Look I just think we deserved to see the War Room covered in scattered toys, Dean humming the Rain Song in the kitchen at 3am trying to rocking Jack back to sleep, Jack playing with playdough at the map table, Cas "chasing" Jack around the bunker while he screams with laughter, a carseat in the Impala, Sam letting Jack "braid" his hair, Cas and Dean holding Jack's hands swinging him back and forth between them, height chart in the kitchen doorway, Jack saying "son of a bitch" one day out of nowhere (wonder who he learned that from, Dean), Sam carrying Jack on his shoulders around the bunker and ducking down low in each doorway while Dean and Cas have a heart attack (You're gonna hit his head Sam!), Jack throwing a tantrum and causing a blackout across the entire midwest, Dean wrestling with a stroller, all of them having to watch Toy Story 2 a million times in a row (it's Jack's favorite), Jack in the Impala screaming along to the children's Sing-A-Long Songs tape Sam found at the thrift store, Cas letting Jack pick out any clothes and toys he likes, Dean holding Jack while dancing to Bob Seger around the bunker, Cas helping Jack learn how control and understand his powers while reminding him that they are good and that he is loved, no matter what anyone says.
What was a.j's reaction hearing about the events in TFAWS next to a disgrace of a copy cat cap? And the hallarious story sam mentions "your uncle buck fell from the plane "
Like Bucky, the kids had some trouble understanding why Sam would want to give up the shield
But their parents told them that it’s none of their business and to trust Sam
That was until the new Captain America was announced
Steve thought John Walker was an okay enough guy
He found his introduction a little over-the-top, but he pegged it as the government wanting to make it as exciting as possible after everything
Y/N, on the other hand, had her reservations
She wasn't sure what to make of him
His introduction and interview about being Captain America didn't sit well with her
No one will ever be Steve Rogers, and she was sure Walker wasn't trying to be like him
But she just wanted to be sure he knew that being Captain America meant more than just fighting for justice and valuing patriotism
They were certainly shocked like everyone else when it was shown what Walker did with the shield
Steve was very disappointed while Y/N couldn't help but be disgusted with the news
Both Sam and Bucky came on separate occasions during that small break when The Flag Smashers were planning their attack.
Steve and Y/N offered as much as they could when it came to advice
Gist of it was just Sam and Bucky needing to trust each other and better understand the other as well as themselves.
They go to Louisiana after the Wilsons invite him when everything is over
That's where Sam tells the kids the story of their Uncle Bucky falling out of the plane, which they love hearing about
When Ella Winchester witnesses her mom with Santa, she seeks comfort from her Uncle Sammy. Y/N and Dean work together to fix this misunderstanding only for Ella to react in a way no one expected.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Platonic Uncle!Sam x Platonic Daughter!Winchester
Word Count: 2446
Warnings: light angst, lots of fluff
Square Filled: I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus @spnchristmasbingo
A/N: here is a cute little fluff one shot! its dean x reader, but also uncle!sam x daughter!winchester fluff!!
Masterlist | SPN Christmas Bingo 2021 Masterlist
A familiar laugh filled the air, pulling Ella Winchester from her slumber. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, a yawn escaping her lips. Moonlight streamed through her window, faintly illuminating the room. Her ears perked up as she heard a laugh that sounded exactly like yours. Ella’s toes curled around the fuzzy rug as her feet hit the ground, and she made her way across the bedroom, pressing her ear against the closed door. A soft melody drifted from underneath her door, along with your voice.
“That’s a lot of presents for one girl, Santa.” Ella gasped. Santa was here? The young girl slowly opened her door, the delicate music no longer muted. She crept out of her room, tiptoeing down the hallway, until she reached the top of the stairs, crouching behind the banister.
The sound of crackling wood filled Ella’s ears, and she spotted you standing by the mantel, looking at the pictures lining the stone top. The lights were dim, the room mostly lit by the roaring fire. Ella’s eyes widened as she saw the stacks of boxes underneath the Christmas tree, excitement filling her heart.
The gentle strums of a guitar floated through the air, and Ella recognized the tune as your favorite Christmas song. There was a light jingle of bells and in all of his jolly glory, Santa walked into the room. His back was to the young girl, but it was hard to not recognize the signature red hat with white trimmings and the thick red coat. Ella’s heart pounded in her chest.
“Santa,” she whispered to herself in awe. She watched as the man embraced you from behind, the two of you swaying to the music, enjoying the warmth of the fire. You turned in Santa’s arms, and Ella’s mouth dropped when she saw you kiss him. Tears quickly gathered in her eyes, blurring her vision. The carpeted floor cushioned her footfalls as she ran back down the hallway.
Sam Winchester was many things, but a deep sleeper was not one of them. The creak of the door was what first awoke him, followed by the bright light from the hallway. Light footsteps tentatively approached his bed and a whisper reached his ears.
“Uncle Sammy?” Although it had been five years, Sam still felt his heart burst with joy whenever he was around his niece. A smile crept onto his face and his eyes opened slowly, focusing on the familiar pair of pine green eyes staring at him. His smile immediately dropped when he realized her eyes were filled with tears.
“Peanut?” He asked gently, and the little girl’s bottom lip trembled.
“Ella? What’s wrong?” He tried again, sitting up in bed. The young girl burst into tears, flinging herself into his arms. He gently pulled her away, wiping at her tears as she sniffled.
“Did something happen? Where’s your mom?” Sam inquired, unsure as to why his niece was so upset. At the mention of her mom, Ella sobbed harder, burying her head into the soft cotton of his grey t-shirt. Fear gripped at his chest. What was going on?
“Peanut, you need to tell me what happened,” he reasoned, dread filling his body. This time, Ella pulled away from him voluntarily, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“I—” she hiccuped, “I saw mommy do something bad!” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What did you see?” Ella sniffled before responding.
“I woke up and I heard mommy laughing and she was talking to Santa!” The young girl explained to her uncle.
“Santa?” He asked, surprised. For years, Ella had been dying to meet Santa. Sam fondly remembered last year when the little girl had insisted on staying up all night, denying her tiredness even through her large yawns and drooping eyelids.
“Why are you crying then? Santa’s here!” Every year since Ella was born, Dean had gone all out on Christmas, from baking cookies with his daughter to helping her with her wish list, but most of all, dressing up as Santa.
Dean wanted to give Ella the childhood he and Sam never had, and so each year, after Ella had gone to bed, he would play some Christmas tunes and wander around the house in his Santa costume in hopes of one day fulfilling his daughter’s dream to meet Santa. Sam had expected there to be tears when she finally met him, but the long-haired man couldn’t understand why she seemed so distraught now.
“Mommy kissed him!” Ella exclaimed, tears falling from her eyes once more. Sam stifled his chuckle out of respect for his clearly heartbroken niece. He held her as she cried, rubbing her back in soothing circles. Soft kisses were placed on top of her head as he rocked the crying girl in his arms gently from side to side. Eventually, Ella’s tears slowed, only an occasional sniffle escaping her.
“Does mommy still love daddy?” She asked, and Sam’s heart broke at the distress in her voice.
“Peanut, there isn’t anyone on this Earth who your mom loves more than your dad,” he reassured his niece.
“Except for you,” he added as an afterthought. Ella sniffled.
“Then why was she kissing Santa?” Her face twisted in confusion. He paused, unsure what he should tell the crestfallen girl.
“I think that’s something you need to talk about with your mom, peanut,” he said, deciding that he was not going to be the one to crush the little girl even more by telling her that Santa wasn’t real.
Content with her uncle’s answer and exhausted from crying, she curled up in Sam’s lap and fell into a deep sleep. When he was sure she was completely out, Sam tucked her into his bed, gazing lovingly at the youngest Winchester. Her lips were slightly parted in a light pout, and Sam almost laughed at how similar she was to his older brother. He smoothed down her soft hair and placed a light kiss to her forehead before creeping out of the room, silently closing the door behind him.
Sam could hear the deep rumbling of his brother’s voice from downstairs accompanied by your light laughter. He smiled at the sound, grateful that after all those years of hunting, you were all finally living the life you had dreamed of. He spotted the two of you on the couch, your legs swung over “Santa’s” lap, one hand holding a glass of red wine and your fingers of the other laced with Dean’s. Your cheeks were slightly flushed and your smile was glowing as Dean spoke to you quietly. The two of you were so lost in your own world, neither of you noticed Sam until he cleared his throat. Your head turned to the base of the stairs at the sound, where your eyes met Sam’s.
“Hiya Sam,” you said, cheerfully. “Come to join the festivities? We were thinking about putting on a movie.”
“Oh no,” Sam said, warily. “The last time you said we were going to watch a movie, you two ended up making out the whole time.” He pulled a face of disgust, causing Dean to chuckle.
“Come on, Sammy. You know it’s impossible for Y/N to resist my handsome face and dazzling charm,” the older Winchester said with a wink. You rolled your eyes, swinging your feet onto the floor, much to Dean’s chagrin. You placed the wine glass on the coffee table and grabbed the TV remote, the wide screen coming to life with the flick of a button.
“I’m thinking The Polar Express,” you suggested. Dean crinkled his face in opposition.
“The animation is creepy. The only person who is kinda okay is Santa, but even he’s pretty weird,” the green-eyed hunter stated.
“Speaking of Santa,” Sam cut in before you could respond to your husband, “I’ve got a little girl curled up in my bed after crying herself to sleep, because she saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.” He looked at you pointedly.
“No,” you said in disbelief, twisting your body to fully face him.
“Oh yeah,” Sam replied, a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes.
“Well, what’d you tell her?” Dean asked, curious as to how his brother got himself out of that sticky situation.
“I told her to talk to Y/N,” Sam informed the two of you. A heavy sigh heaved through you and a warm hand squeezed yours. Your eyes looked down at your intertwined fingers and then met your husband’s affection-filled stare. You gave him a sad smile.
“I thought we would have at least a couple of more years until Elle found out,” you admitted and Dean nodded in understanding.
“Me too, sweetheart,” he agreed, a hint of melancholy present in his words. The room was quiet for a beat, the fire crackling as the three adults thought about how quickly the time had passed.
“If we come clean about Santa,” you pondered out loud, “Do we have to come clean about other things too? Like the tooth fairy? Or the Easter Bunny?” You may be willing to spill one secret, but you still wanted your daughter to enjoy her childhood. After all, she was only five. Dean chuckled at your question.
“Sweetheart, Sammy believed in the Easter Bunny until he was twelve,” Dean commented and Sam pursed his lips.
“I was eleven,” Sam defended.
“And a half,” Dean added, causing his younger brother to roll his eyes.
“And a half,” Sam echoed. Dean smiled, before rising from the couch, pulling you up with him.
“Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got a little girl’s dream to kill,” he said cheekily and you playfully shoved him.
“Alright, De. Let’s go.” You tugged at his hand and the two of you made your way up the stairs. When you reached Sam’s door, you hesitated to open it.
“Let me talk to her first, okay?” You looked at your husband, and he smiled in response. You lightly pushed the door open, a smile growing on your face at the sight of your daughter nestled amongst the thick blanket. As you walked closer, your smile turned to a frown when you spotted her swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The bed dipped as you sat down on the edge and brushed her hair from her face, making her stir. Her bleary eyes met yours.
“Mommy?” She asked softly. You stroked her hair gently, and she leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut.
“Hi baby,” you cooed. You turned on the bedside lamp, warm yellow light brightening the room.
“Uncle Sammy said you had something to ask me,” you murmured, not wanting to upset the young girl. Her eyes opened instantly, and she slightly recoiled from your touch, her eyes filled with hurt and confusion.
“Mommy,” she swallowed, her eyes darting around the room, “Do you love daddy?” There was a pang of guilt in your heart.
“Of course I love daddy, Elle. I love daddy so much,” you reassured her, but her eyes narrowed.
“Then why did you kiss Santa?” Her voice was filled with woe and her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. You reached out to her and grabbed her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull away this time.
“I’m going to tell you a grown-up secret, but you have to promise mommy that even though you’ll know the grown-up secret, you’re still my baby. Okay, Elle?” You asked, and she nodded.
“I promise, mommy,” she said, solemnly, offering you her pinky. With a smile, you linked your pinky with hers and pressed your foreheads together gently, rubbing your noses against each other. Ella giggled.
“Mommy, what’s the secret?” She asked, eager to find out. You looked over to the door and called out to your husband.
“De, can you come in here please?” The doorknob turned slowly, and you heard Ella’s breath hitch as Dean entered the room.
“Daddy? Why are you wearing Santa’s clothes?” She asked, her voice filled with confusion. He gave her a crooked smile.
“Ellie, I am Santa,” he said. With a bated breath, you waited for the girl to respond.
“I don’t get it,” she said, after a moment. Dean walked towards the bed, settling down next to you. He took off the red hat and ran a hand through his hair.
“Now, don’t be mad, okay?” He asked timidly. The last thing he wanted to do was make his daughter cry even more.
“Okay, daddy. I won’t be mad,” she promised. Dean released his breath, his green eyes boring into his daughter’s identical pair.
“I’m sorry Ellie, but Santa isn’t real. Mommy and I wrap all the presents and put them under the tree,” he explained gently. Ella’s eyes darted back and forth, searching for a hint of a lie, but when she found none, she began to smile.
“Santa really isn’t real?” She asked, excited. Dean flashed you a bewildered look. He was expecting tears— lots of tears. He nodded tentatively.
“Yeah, Santa isn’t real.” Ella leaped into her father’s arms, burying her face into the crook of his neck.
“I’m happy it’s you, daddy,” she said, her voice muffled against all of the fabric. He hugged her tightly, his cheek resting against the top of her head. Before you knew it, she wrapped her arms around you in a close hug. You placed a tender kiss on her head. A knock at the door pulled you away from the hug. Sam leaned against the door sill with a smile on his face.
“Do you feel better now, peanut?” He checked in, and she nodded vigorously.
“Mommy loves daddy! She told me!”
“Guess what?” Sam grinned, “I have a big mug of hot chocolate covered in whipped cream waiting for you in the kitchen.” Ella scrambled out of bed, running to the door and grabbing Sam’s hand, tugging him out of the room.
“Come on Uncle Sammy!” She cried, and you laughed at her excitement. Dean’s arm wrapped around your waist, and you turned to face him.
“You love me, huh?” He asked with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes.
“Of course I do, doofus. I married you, didn’t I?” Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips. A squeal of laughter echoed throughout the house followed by Sam’s deep chuckle.
“Come on, Mr. Winchester. Our daughter is consuming enough sugar to keep her up all night, so we might as well open the presents too,” you said, noting that it was already two hours into Christmas.
Taking a break from recording all of Dean and Sam’s injuries, time for some more raising Jack headcanons
----
It takes a village to raise a nephil. Cas, Dean, Sam and Mary manage as best they can, but once Ketch hands Gabriel over and they convince a handful of angels to be on their side, it becomes significantly easier. Mostly everyone, even Gabriel, are still pretty clueless though. No one’s ever really attempted to raise a nephil before. Except maybe the Queen of Sheba, but there’s basically no evidence of how she was raised, and the angels don’t know a thing since she was somehow successfully hidden from them. So, really they just gain additional babysitters who can give only theories on how to raise Jack. But nonetheless, the bunker becomes Raising Jack Central, angels popping in and out, some staying permanently, hunters visiting and pitching in, even some demons wanna check out the child of the devil, though they’re promptly told to fuck off.
--
The angels react to Jack in different ways. Some immediately want to kill him, he’s an abomination and that’s just what they do to nephilim. Some approach him cautiously like he’s a ticking time bomb. Some look like they want to vomit at the sight of him. Some look at him with hope, like he’s their new saviour. Some look at him like they’re just confused, trying to figure out how and why he exists. One of the confused angels held Jack, turned him this way and that before they tipped him upside down and gave him a shake. That resulted in an explosion of sound as Jack started crying, and Dean, Cas and Sam jumped in to snatch Jack from the angel. Dean held Jack closely to his chest while giving the angel the stink eye and Cas fussed over the baby.
--
Jack was kept in and around the bunker for the first 7 years of his life, raised by angels and hunters who are human but sometimes don’t act like they are. He was mostly kept in the bunker and the house because it takes a lot to convince a nephil to not use their true voice when they have a tantrum. By the time Jack reaches 8-years-old, he finally understands that if he wants to scream and cry with his true voice, he has to do it in the safety of the bunker.
--
Being raised in a secluded bunker and a house by angels and hunters is just another cause to how weird Jack is. He either blinks too much or not enough, and he sometimes looks at you like he’s inspecting your soul (which he is). And he just sounds. off. Most of the time he sounds american, but no one can pinpoint where in america. He almost sounds like he’s from everywhere in america. But sometimes he sounds like he’s from england. His teachers can’t tell if he’s pretending or if he really does just sound like that. They become even more confused when they meet Dean and Cas, and Sam, and Mary because they can clearly tell where his guardians are from, so why does he always sound so off??
--
Sometimes he calls Dean and Cas dad or father, but actually he just calls them Dean and Cas a lot of the time. He understands that they’re his dads, but no one else ever calls them dad?? Everyone else refers to them as Dean and Cas, those are their names, so he just. calls them by their names. simple as that. On the same note, he actually refers to Mary as ‘mom’ a lot because Dean and Sam, and sometimes even Cas, call her that all the time. It actually took him a longer time to understand that her name wasn’t mom but Mary, than it did to understand that his dads’ names were Dean and Cas.
Other kids ask him why he doesn’t call his dads ‘dad’ and he just shrugs and goes ‘those are their names’.
--
Jack with his insane dad Cas and his equally insane uncle Sam. Jack, as the first nephil who is being actively raised by hunters and angels alike, is a complete mystery. And Cas and Sam love a mystery. They never do anything that will physically or mentally harm Jack, but they do perform tiny little experiments. Dean comes home one day and finds Cas and Sam lying flat on their stomachs on the floor, a two-year-old Jack between them and they’re all staring at a pencil.
Dean: ... what are you doing?
Sam: trying to see if he’ll move this pencil with his mind
Dean: *flashback to that one time he walked in on Cas jumping off a roof to see if Sam could catch him with his telekinetic powers*
Dean: oohhhh no. no no no no you don’t! you’re not experimenting on my baby!
--
Sam: ... I wonder what would happen if I drank nephil blood?
Cas: ... we’ll wait until Jack’s older for that one
--
Dean: yeah he hit the ball and it just went... it disappeared into the sky. He broke the bat
Sam: you WHAT!?
Cas: how far do you think the ball went?
Jack: personally I think it went into space
Sam, getting up from where he was sitting: we gotta test this right now
--
16-year-old Jack: ... could I escape holy fire?
Cas and Sam: *eyes slowly widening*
Dean: don’t you dare-
Sam: I’ll get the holy oil!
Cas: I’ll get the lighter, Jack go stand outside
Jack: okay!
--
Did you ever have those friends in primary school who were smaller than you but they were so strong they lifted you up and spun you around? Because I did. Anyways Jack lifts Dean up when he’s like 11 because uncle Sam told him to and Dean just screams.
--
Eileen being able to be around baby Jack when he’s throwing a tantrum because she literally can’t hear him. She holds him and smiles and Jack goes quiet and frowns because even though he’s a baby he knows the difference between a human and an angel, and the humans are always either wincing when he cries or wearing things in their ears, but this human is just holding him and smiling? Huh?? So he just becomes quiet around Eileen because he’s so confused as to why she’s not reacting and he starts to become excited whenever he sees her and she’s definitely his favourite aunt.
--
Sam and Eileen’s kids are just as weird as Jack. Maybe a little less so, but look they were also raised around angels and hunters, have an angel as an uncle and a nephil as a cousin. They’re a bit weird.
--
If Sam and Eileen do have multiple kids, Jack definitely holds all of them at once and parades them around like “look! look at my cousins! I have cousins! these are my cousins!!” with a beaming smile. He’s so happy to have cousins because he’s always been the youngest! He’s never been around kids that are younger than him! He’s so curious and when he held his first-born cousin for the first time when he was 5 he just stared in awe because it was the first time he’s seen a baby! Babies are tiny! And their souls are so bright! He couldn’t stop staring and asking questions like “how did they come out?” “what do they do now?” “can they see? they haven’t opened their eyes” “do they know who I am? Do they know who you are? Should I introduce myself!? Have you guys introduced yourselves? What if they don’t know you’re their parents you should probably introduce yourself”
Alright! I said I'd post when I made 25 but I am sleepy so have these! Little Peter galore! Also, I apologize for the quality, the app just wriggles the pixel around without my consent.
Tagging @professional-benaddict @starkeristheendgame @petersmocha and @vanillapeter @puppypeter because you guys are the best and you adore him as a little so tada!
Peter got an instant camera for a holiday and ever since then he is a menace; the team turns round and bam! A flashing light and a bewildered image in Peter's hand appears. Tony loves it as much as he desperately wants the camera to mysteriously vanish. He won't do it, of course. His baby adores the camera. But that doesn't mean the billionaire ain't pulling all the stops to distract Pete with new gadgets and toys. Steve and Carol have, by now, simply accepted it.
While starker is endgame, sometimes starkerstrange or um, is it captainironspider will pop up. I don't really see Peter as actually being a kid, he's a consenting adult that likes to spend time in a little headspace every once in awhile. His boyfriend Tony absolutely adores him as a little and as a lover; it's just a new dynamic to explore within their relationship.
I, at least, tend to think that they express romantic affection as well as platonic affection when Peter's little, but I know some people don't particularly care for that so if I do post a manip or general content that's explicit in that way (say, a little French kissing instead of tiny and cute pecks), I'll warn you guys at the top of the post.
If you, for any reason, dont agree with my headcanons and wanna discuss it, that's alright by me. As long as you're respectful and open to another point of view, I don't mind! However, if you insult me or try to accuse me of anything without even giving me a chance to talk, I'll gladly block you. Ship and let ship / write and let write.
Warnings: Like one swear word
Characters: Uncle!Sam Winchester, Daddy!Dean Winchester, Daughter!Winchester Reader, Bobby Singer (mentioned)
Summary: You get married and Dean has flashbacks as he struggles to accept that you’re growing up.
Reader’s Age: Old enough to get married I guess
Word Count: 2042
Y/N: Your Name
Y/N/N: Your Nickname
A/N: Here’s this week’s fic. I had fun writing this one. It made me a little sad but eh. Flashbacks in italics! Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~
Your life has always been pretty hectic. Ever since you were born, you were a target to anything and everything supernatural related. That's just what came with the Winchester name. You grew up in mangy motel rooms and spent most of your time in bars and diners. You were always the new kid at school, which resulted in not having a ton of friends, but you didn't care about that. Your family was all you needed.
When you moved into the bunker, you finally were able to stay in one place. You went to the nearest school, and you were finally able to make friends. Granted, throughout the years, you lost some of them due to drama or just growing apart, but a few stuck around.
After graduation, your life slowed down. It didn't feel like you were continually running around with friends or studying for upcoming exams; everything just kind of... settled.
Your high school boyfriend managed to stick around despite your father and uncle nearly murdering the poor guy. And now? Now you have a beautiful rock on your finger. And just like that, your life went from nice and calm straight back to hectic and crazy. You had appointments with florists, venues, priests, planners, and everyone in between.
You walked into the library, "Dad?" you called out. Your father hummed but kept his eyes glued to his laptop. "Which tie would you say looks more like turquoise?" you held up two ties that, to anyone but you, looked identical.
Your dad looked up, and his eyes flickered between the two ties. "That one?" He pointed to the one in your left hand.
You huffed heavily, "No! Do you even know what turquoise looks like?" Your hands dropped to your sides.
"Obviously not..." He muttered. You opened your mouth but stopped as Sam stepped into the room. "Sam, run! Go!" Dean started waving frantically.
Sam raised an eyebrow, about to turn around, but you grabbed him. "Uncle Sam, which tie looks like turquoise?" you held the ties up once again.
"That one," Sam pointed to the tie in your right hand.
"Yes! Okay," you sighed happily and looked at the ties. "Oh! I gotta call the chef!" you ran out of the room, hearing the chuckles of your family.
"Conner's gonna have his hands full with her," Sam joked, taking a seat across from his brother.
"Yeah..." Dean sighed.
"Daddy! Daddy!" You ran outside of Bobby's house.
"Hey, baby," Dean swooped you up.
"Look what Bobby got me!" you held out a turquoise hair bow.
"Wow, look at that! It's even in your favorite color," Dean clipped the bow into your hair.
"Dean? Dean? Dean?" Dean's head snapped up, eyes roaming the room until they landed on his brother. "You okay? You zoned out,"
"Yeah, I'm fine." he lied, looking at the ground.
~~~~~~~~
Today was the day. The day you're going to marry the man you love. You sat in a chair, staring at yourself in the mirror as your bridesmaids did your hair and makeup.
A knock sounded at the door, but that didn't stop anyone from doing their jobs. The door opened, and Dean popped his head into the room.
"Hey, dad! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" you started panicking, about the stand up before Dean put his hand on yours.
"Everything's fine, Y/N/N. Just needed to talk to you... alone if that's okay?" Dean looked around at the bridesmaids, a few of whom he's watched grow up alongside his daughter.
As everyone cleared out, you asked, "What's up?"
Your dad pulled a chair to sit across from you. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his hands together, staring at the ground. Dean sighed, "Y'know it's not too late to back out," you laughed, "I mean, Conner's a good guy, and all, but do you really wanna spend your life with someone who chews with his mouth open? It's like, that's the first thing you're taught when growing up; close your mouth when you eat!" your laughter filled the room. Dean looked up at you and smiled.
"Sam! Sam!" Dean ran into the motel room.
"What? What's wrong?" Sam jumped up, frantically looking for injuries.
"Come here!" Dean grabbed his brother and dragged him outside. Sam calmed down a little when he saw you sitting in a baby swing; unharmed. "Watch!" Dean put his thumbs up to his head, resembling antlers, crossed his eyes, and blew a raspberry. Your giggles could've been heard from a mile away. Sam chuckled as he watched his brother make a fool of himself just to see your smile. "It's the first time she's ever smiled; let alone laugh! For a while there I thought we somehow lost her soul," Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "But look! Look how happy she is!" Dean continued to make funny faces, getting you and Sam to laugh.
"Dad," Dean blinked a few times, snapping out of his thoughts. "Why are you really here?"
"What? A dad can't come to see his daughter on her wed-wedding d-day?" Dean sighed, looking down at his hands.
"Dad," you giggled and glanced in the mirror, "Oh, shit!" you noticed one of the strands of your pinned-up hair had fallen. You started to try and fix it, as tears welled up in your eyes, thinking about how this one tiny thing could ruin your whole day.
"Hey, hey," Dean grabbed your hands, "Let me help," you took a deep breath a nodded. Dean started fiddling with the strand and clips.
"How the hell did she do that?" Dean looked down at the jumbled mess of your hair, then back at the video.
"It's not that hard, dad, just do what she does!" you pointed to the video.
"'Just do what she does' oh, geez, it's not like I've thought of that before," Dean went to replay the video.
"Do you want me to find something easier?" you asked, slightly wincing at him pulling on your hair.
"No! I can do it."
"Okay, dad," you shook your head slightly before your dad grabbed it to make you stop.
"There," Dean finished pinning the strand up, "All fixed," you looked in the mirror and sighed in relief, "See? Nothing to worry about,"
You stood up and turned to him, a slight smile present on your face. "Thank you, dad,"
"Anything for you,"
"Dad, are you okay?" you asked, noticing the tears forming in his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm great," your dad looked to the ground.
You chuckled, "You always look at the ground when you lie. I do it, too,"
Dean looked up, "I've never liked lying to you," you watched a tear escape your dad's eye. You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso. Your dad wasted no time in enclosing his arms around you.
"Daddy?" you crept into your dad's room.
Your dad sniffled and glanced over his shoulder on his bed. "Hey, baby girl," you didn't see him wipe his eyes.
"Are you okay?" you shuffled closer to him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he looked at the ground. You walked in front of him; you stared at him when you saw a tear running down his cheek. You lunged forward and wrapped your arms around him. Your dad did the same to you.
"Alright," Dean pulled away from the hug, fighting against every fiber of his being that wanted to hug you again. "Don't wanna ruin your makeup," your dad cupped your cheek for a moment. "I'll let you finish getting ready,"
"Okay, I love you, dad," you told him as he walked to the door.
"Love you, too,"
~~~~~~~
Dean stood in the hallway, waiting for you so he could walk you down the aisle. Dean heard people talking behind him, and as he turned around, time slowed down. He saw you in a pure white, flowing dress that not only sparkled because of the glitter but because his little girl was wearing it. His eyes welled up as he watched you walk towards him.
"Do you want to hold her?" Kristen asked as Dean walked into the room, Sam right behind him. Dean looked to Sam, who nudged him with a smile.
Dean held out his arms, squatting down, making it easier for Kristen to hand the small human to him. "Make sure to support her head. You got her?" she asked before removing her arms. Dean nodded and slowly stood up.
He looked down at the tiny child in his arms. He studied every detail on her face, granted, a lot of those details were blurry due to the tears in his eyes, but he didn't mind. Dean looked up to Sam for a moment, mouth slightly open before returning his gaze to the girl who became his whole world. He didn't know how someone couldn't have a single flaw. "She's perfect," he whispered.
"So? What do you think?" you twirled around, your dress flying out around you.
"Y-you, I-uh... You-you're perfect," he whispered.
Your smile lit up the room. "Are you ready?" you asked.
"I think I should be the one asking you that,"
"Well, I am," you stepped closer. Dean sighed and turned to the doors. He bent his arm, and you took hold of it.
You took a deep breath as the doors opened. You two began walking, seeing friends and family all around. As Dean walked, time slowed once again.
"That's it! You got it!" Dean held his hands out as you took a step, wobbling a little before regaining your balance. "Come on!" you made a few more steps before reaching his hands. "That a girl!" Dean swooped you up and spun you around, planting kisses all over your face.
Dean looked to the ground, not liking all the eyes in his direction.
"Y/N!" Dean ran to the end of the bar, throwing the man off of you. He pounded his face until all that was left was red and blue.
"Dad!" you grabbed his arm, stopping him from continuing. Your dad stood up and looked around.
"What the hell are you all looking at?" Dean grabbed your hand and ran out of the bar.
Dean's eyes went towards the end of the aisle, eyes connecting with Conner's.
"After all that you just decide you like him? Dad, you pressed a knife to his throat."
"What can I say? He's a good guy," your dad plopped a piece of cheese into his mouth.
You stared at him, utterly confused. "Did he pay you? Is this Uncle Sam's doing?"
Dean laughed, "Why are you so upset that I like him?"
"I'm not! I just... What changed?"
"I saw how happy he makes you. I meant it when I said he's a good guy,"
Dean shifted his gaze to Sam.
"What happened?" Dean asked as Sam carried you down the steps.
"Wasn't one werewolf," Sam placed you down on the map table, not risking the trek to your room. Dean took his flannel off and pressed it to the gash on your side. You screamed out in pain, almost causing Dean to let go.
"I know, baby, Sam's getting the first aid kit, hang in there,"
You and your dad stopped in front of the altar, turning towards each other. You stared at each other; you decided not to say anything, knowing your dad needed a moment. "You grew up too fast," he managed to get out.
"Had to grow up sometime," you smiled up at him.
"Yeah..." he paused, "Well, you'll always be my little girl," you leaned in and hugged him.
After a moment, you pulled away, and Dean placed a kiss on your forehead.
Dean moved and sat next to Sam, who patted his shoulder. As Dean watched you exchange your vows, everything around him went silent.
"Tell me! Who's your crush?" Veronica pried.
"No!" you refused.
Your dad stopped in the hallway, interested in the conversation.
"Come on! I told you mine!"
"I don't have one. All I have to say is that my dad and uncle are the only boys I need in my life. If they're around, I'll never need anyone else."
Dean jerked a bit when Sam hit his thigh. He looked up and saw you kissing your now-husband, and he heard clapping and cheering. Dean stood up and started clapping along with the crowd.
He watched you and Conner walk back down the aisle, a tear sliding down his cheek. You looked to your dad, a bright smile on your face.
I hope y’all like this one! I’m open for tips on improving!
Requested by @wegoddessofhell:
“Heeey, can I have a dean x daughter!reader where his daughters getting married and he’s all like reflective of when she was a kid and he’s all sad and doesn’t want to let her go and stuff?”
request - can i request for steve rogers x teen!reader? they have a father daughter relationship ever since he recruited her for team cap. they see each other again back @ the avengers facility after a long time. reader got affected by the snap (they shared a moment before turning to dust like peter & tony in titan) her last words: “i love you dad” and she’s the last one who’ll turn into dust. steve cries, vowing to avenge her and the others. reader has strength, speed, heat vision and flight. thank u!! - @barnes-parker – i’m so sorry it’s taken so long aha but i got so invested in this story and couldn’t stop ahaha <<33
word count - 7679
pairing - dad-figure!steve rogers x teen!reader, uncle!bucky barnes, uncle!sam wilson (btw the uncle figures are so much fun to write i love it omg), pretty much team cap family
a/n - hi! this became a long one and I’m kind of really proud of it so I hope you enjoy!! please let me know if this is the sort of thing you would like to read more!! also this kinda jumps between timelines so the lil ‘—-’ are the same scene just jumps, but the proper ‘——’ are different scenes :::))))))
Stars lit up the sky as you floated above the metropolitan horizon of New York. Your mask covered the bottom half of your face, but you could see your breath cloud as the evening became cold. Landing on a rooftop, you squatted and scanned the area for any disturbances. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw a group of bodies, all crowding around a young woman. The heat signatures they gave off were crazy, deep reds and bright oranges almost hurting your eyes. You jumped across a gap to the next building, trying to get a closer look. Then the woman screamed.
You leapt down from the building, landing in a crouch as the bodies turned to look at you. You stood up quickly, taking in the gasps from the men as they realised who you were. The first man sprinted towards you, throwing a punch at your face. You blocked it with your forearm and jammed your fist into his stomach, doubling him over in pain. You drew your knee up to hit him in the face and jumped over his falling body. Throwing yourself onto the floor, you swung your leg in front of you and tripped up two of the remaining five bodies. As they fell you grabbed their heads, banging them together just hard enough to knock them out for a few hours.
A knife flew by your face, missing you by only a few centimeters. You turned quickly, sprinting towards the attacker and buried your elbow in his face, taking out his legs with your foot. As he fell to the ground, you grabbed his body and threw it against the remaining men, taking them out like bowling pins. Walking towards the young woman, you helped her up and checked her over.
“Thank you,” she stuttered, tears falling on her cheeks. You gave her a smile, hidden by the mask, before sending her on her way. You began lining the bodies up against a wall, ready for the police, when the sounds of footsteps approached you from behind. You spun, holding your hands up in a defensive measure.
“Hello (Y/N),” a man in basic black and purple armor spoke, a quiver strapped across his back. You were taken aback by his use of your name; you had never told anyone of your true identity.
“How do you know my name?” your voice was tense, as were your fists. “Who are you?”
“I’m Clint, this isn’t my normal way of introducing myself,” the man laughed to himself, rubbing a hand against his forehead. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase, we need your help.”
Days later you found yourself in Europe with Captain America, having been recruited for his fight against Tony Stark. The two of you had clicked instantly, him taking the fatherly role that had been missing from your life. You trained together, Wanda helping you with controlling your powers and Steve taking responsibility for your hand-to-hand combat. The progress you saw within yourself in just a few days was outstanding and you found yourself imagining a life with the team, training and becoming friends. But that was a dangerous fantasy.
———–
“Take the new guy, he seems about your age,” Steve didn’t look at you as he spoke, his eyes still focused on Tony as he ran across the airfield. “Save Buck and Sam.”
“Ah, my boys always need me,” you laughed despite your anxieties. Sprinting towards the glass building, you flew into the air and crashed through one of the walls. You landed in a traditional “superhero” pose, looking up to assess the situation. Bucky and Sam lay on the floor, tangled up in some kind of web, as Spiderman crouched against a tall pillar.
“Woah, you can fly?!” the kid spoke, his voice revealing his youth. As you considered, he probably wasn’t much younger than you, a year or two at most. How could Tony bring in someone this young?
“Hey kid, haven’t you got homework or something to be doing?” you cocked him a brow, a smirk hidden beneath your mask. Spiderman’s eyes flicked up to you, widening in shock. You threw yourself towards him, arms outstretched to tackle him to the ground. Landing with a thud, you launched Peter across the room where he hit and slid down the wall. You bolted towards Bucky and Sam, ripping apart the webs that bound them. “What would you boys do without me?”
“Probably not have all of my food stolen,” Sam muttered, standing quickly and bringing his hand to his goggles. You sent him a glare before standing alongside Bucky. Glass shattered behind you, and you turned to see Spiderman caught by one of Sam’s drones, pulled outside.
“That works,” you shrugged your shoulders, leading the pair of men towards the building’s exit. “I can’t believe you got your asses handed to you by a kid.”
————
Deep breaths echoed, bouncing off of the prison cell walls. You sat by the bars, your arms wrapped around them and your hands intertwined. Your head rested against the cold metal, your eyes barely open as exhaustion took over your entire body. You had barely eaten, you couldn’t remember the last time they had given you water and you were sure the fatigue was obvious on your face. A sigh escaped your lips as you forced your head up to look across at Clint in his cell. He was sat on his bed, his head in his hands - as had become his usual position.
The opening of the main door caused you to look up; you half expected Tony to be back to gloat about his victory, to try and weasel any secrets out of you, but the silhouette in the doorway was taller, broader. As he stepped into the light, you heart broke and your lower lip quivered. Steve’s face was rugged, a hint of a beard tickled his jaw as he walked towards Sam’s cell. The two had a brief conversation, Steve glancing around the room at several points. You assumed Sam was explaining what had been going on. Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out a tablet that had hacked into the Raft’s mainframe. With a click of the screen, the cell bars lifted and you lifted yourself from the ground slowly. Your head spun and your legs shook beneath you as you stumbled your way to Wanda’s cell.
Wanda was the weakest of the group, she had been wrapped up in a straitjacket with an electric collar around her neck. Her eyes were sunken, deep bags hanging beneath them. She dragged her eyes up from the wall to look at you. A tear landed on your cheek as you knelt down before her, looking for some way to remove her restraints. Your breathing sped up as you began to panic, unable to find a solution. A hand touched your back, throwing you off balance as you spun around quickly, falling as your head went fuzzy. Large arms wrapped around you as your consciousness began to fade. You forced your eyes open just long enough to see Steve’s face, smiling down at you as you drifted off to sleep.
———–
“She needs to be here, where I- we can look after her.”
“She’s old enough to make this decision herself.”
The steady beeping of medical equipment steadied your breathing as you began to regain consciousness. You tried to lift your hand, but it felt like dead weight. Your fingertips twitched and you let out a soft groan, attempting to communicate with anyone who was in the room.
“Hey kiddo,” Steve’s voice calmed your racing heartbeat as he stepped towards your bed.
“Where are we?” your throat felt as though you had swallowed broken glass and the taste in your mouth was foul.
Steve looked towards the other man in the room, who you could now see was Sam. He sighed, his head hanging before looking back up at you, “A safe house in Sweden, the whole team’s here.”
“How did you- what happened?” your eyebrows furrowed as you coughed, your chest aching with each exhale.
“Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl,” Steve smiled up at you, but his eyes showed his true sadness. “Can’t be part of a team if the rest of the team isn’t there.”
“So, everyone’s staying here? What about Tony?” Steve flinched as you mentioned the name, taking a deep breath before speaking.
“We have to stay under the radar, according to everyone we’re criminals now. Tony isn’t going to try and change that. Nat, Sam and I are going to go underground and Wanda’s gonna be with us most of the time. What you do is up to you,” Steve looked up at you once again, his eyes pleading for you to stay.
“I-I don’t know.”
“I don’t want to interrupt a lovely moment,” Sam stepped forward, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “But you’re young. You can’t be giving up your life before you’ve even had one.”
“Whatever you do,” Steve started, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “We’re always here for you, whatever it is, I’m here.”
In the time after Germany, your physical and mental health took a hit. It took you days to be able to walk again, and weeks beyond that to start training. Natasha and Clint would often find you pottering around the safe house at 3am, a dazed look in your eyes and various weapons in your hands. Not to mention the nightmares, they woke not just you, but Steve who would race through from his room - adjacent to yours - when you began screaming, your lungs crying out for oxygen. It was decided that you would go with Wanda, she was the only one who could fully comprehend what was going on in your head, and you would return when you had fully recovered. Whenever that was.
“I’ll come visit as soon as Wanda thinks it’s okay, kid,” the tears in Steve’s eyes threatened to spill as he held you close to his chest. Your cheeks were already damp with salty tears as you had said your goodbyes to the rest of the team. Your arms were tight around Steve’s waist, and you didn’t want to let go. He pulled back to push loose hairs away from your face and to look into your eyes one last time. “I love you.”
“I love you, and thank you,” you hesitated. “Dad.”
———————————————————————————————————
You kicked your leg out as you leapt into the air, thrusting your foot into the chest of an Outrider and slicing another in half with your blade. As you returned to the ground you drove your foot into the fallen Outrider’s face, leaving the Wakandan dirt splattered with black blood. You wiped your face with the back of your hand, a grimace painted across your expression, before looking up to see Steve struggling against a pack of creatures. You launched yourself into the air before hurtling into the group, sending Outriders flying in all directions.
“Thanks kid,” Steve breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain his momentum.
“You know, maybe you’re getting too old for this,” you joked with a quick salute. Steve simply raised an eyebrow at you in response and the two of you sprinted in seperate directions. You grabbed a pistol from the holster at your thigh and sent bullets flying towards two Outriders, dark gore showering the dusty ground beneath you. You increased your speed as you lifted off the ground, taking an aerial view of the battle. From your viewpoint, you saw Wanda fighting against one of Thanos’ children, and she wasn’t exactly winning. You bolted towards her, your hair flying behind you as you landed on the ground, sending dirt flying from under your feet.
“She’s not alone,” Natasha spoke as Okoye readied her blade. You stood next to the assassin, fists out in a fighting position. Proxima Midnight looked between the three of you before lunging towards Okoye, blades prepared to strike. She dove, striking at Okoye’s chest as you plunged your foot into her lower back, tripping her onto her back. She rolled up easily, landing in a crouch as she kicked out at Natasha’s feet. Wanda, now up from the ground, lifted Proxima into the air and sent her flying into one of Thanos’ large tanks.
“Anyone got eyes on Vision?” Sam’s voice came through your comms and you spun quickly to see Vision fighting another of Thanos’ children. You gave Wanda a quick nod before she used her power to give you a boost into the air. You hurtled through the air to the forest, your landing ruined by the dense trees. You dropped through branches before arriving at the floor, the air sucked out of your lungs. You wheezed, your eyes closed as pain surged through your entire body. Your adrenaline was starting to wear out, and you weren’t unscathed from the fight. Looking down at your body, blood and dirt was caking your armor, skin exposed to show deep wounds. You lifted yourself onto your knees, looking up to see Vision stabbed by Corvus Glaive. You stood quickly, grabbing a dagger from your belt and lunged towards the creature, sinking the blade into his side.
Suddenly, Corvus was tackled to the ground and you whipped around to see Steve getting to his feet, yelling across at you and Vision. Vision was visibly injured and struggling to move. He nodded at you and the message was clear. You sprinted towards Steve and Glaive, landing a punch on Glaive’s cheek and kicking your shin into the back of his knee. As he fell, he grabbed your arm and threw you into a tree, your spine curving around the trunk. You cried out in pain as you landed against the ground. Steve blocked Glaive’s blade with his shield, landing a punch and grabbing the blade and throwing it in the opposite direction. Glaive grabbed Steve by the neck, throwing him onto a fallen tree where Steve rolled, grimacing in pain. Corvus walked towards the tree where you were still shaking with agony, and wrapped his hand around your neck. You gasped for breath, your eyes beginning to go hazy.
As you sucked in a shallow breath, Glaive’s eyes went wide. His body lifted as a blade protruded from his chest, revealing Vision holding the staff behind him. Letting go of the stave, Vision fell to the ground. You gasped for oxygen as Steve sprinted over, blood trickling down his face from a cut on his forehead. You crawled towards the pair as Vision’s eyes began to droop, Steve holding his head.
“Hey, you’re good,” you spoke slowly, breathlessly. “We’ve got to get you out of here, okay? I can take you-”
“There’s no way you’re doing anything,” Steve’s voice was stern. “You’re injured, we can’t risk you any further.”
“Steve, we need to get him out of-”
“I know, but-”
Wanda arrived on the scene, her face painted with worry as her eyes landed on Vision.
“Don’t cut me off!” your voice was raised, filled with urgency. “I can fly him up, get him back into the building. I’ll take out all of the Outriders, I can do it.”
“It’s too danger-”
Steve stopped speaking as dark clouds appeared between the trees, an ominous noise wiping out all cries from the battle field. A large figure stepped through them, a familiar golden glove decorating his left hand. He tensed and flexed his fingers, the stones making beautiful sounds as he glanced around, assessing the area. You looked towards Steve, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood.
“He’s here.”
———————————————————————————————————–
early 2018 - remote europe
The bed creaked beneath you as you sat, the old wooden bed frame groaning at your presence. You pulled the medical kit out from your drawers, opening it to grab the antiseptic and cotton wool, before pulling up your shirt. A grimace crossed your face as you pressed the ointment to your skin, the stinging sensation dancing across your stomach. Grabbing a bandage from the box, you unwound it and wrapped it around your torso, ensuring it was tight enough to stop any bleeding. Then you moved on to the multiple wounds across your arms.
“Got yourself in kind of a bad state, kid,” you turned slowly to see the familiar face of Sam Wilson. “Need a hand?”
An aggravated sigh left your lips as you stood from the bed, “How did you find me?”
“Well, the deal was you were with Wanda. But that’s obviously not how it played out,” Sam gave you a serious look. “She told us the last place you said you were going and we took it from there.”
You rolled up the leg of your suit, cursing under your breath as you saw the bruising that had begun to appear. “Are you alone?” The uneasy tone of your voice didn’t go unnoticed. Sam looked across at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he considered the team.
“We didn’t want to undo anything Wanda might have-” Sam struggled for his next word, thinking carefully of his next word.
“Fixed?” you finished the sentence for him, looking up and giving him a breathy laugh. “Well, don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”
“You don’t have to.”
The words stopped you in your tracks. You took a deep breath, turning to face the man before you.
“You’ve heard about the Infinity Stones?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest.
“Wanda and Vision mentioned them a few times, told me a bit about them. Why?”
“Some big, scary guy is trying to get them all. They went for the Mind Stone, but we got to Vision first.”
“Is he okay?” you spoke, your voice raising slightly with concern.
“He’s fine, he’s back at the compound with Steve and Nat,” Sam stepped towards you. “We need you, (Y/N).”
“Now, where have I heard that before?” you joked with a sigh, rubbing your forehead with your palms.
“He needs you.”
You looked up, pained eyes searing into Sam’s.
“What’s the mission?”
——-
The quinjet landed beside the Avengers facility and your heart jumped the second you reached the floor. You were instantly aware of how you looked, the weight of your backpack, the noises your jacket made as you stepped off of the jet. Sam moved to stand beside you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“You ready, kid?”
You gave a quick nod in response, your eyes fixed on the main doors directly in front of you.
“You’ll be fine,” Sam began to walk, his large strides putting distance between the two of you. Gritting your teeth, you forced one foot in front of the other, counting down the seconds until you were inside. The training hall was the exact same as when you had left. A sense of comfort washed over you, releasing the tightness in your chest as you looked around. A small smile broke onto your face as memories flooded back: training with Bucky, long nights talking with Wanda, Natasha trying to teach you new moves, leading to you on the floor, the breath stolen from your lungs.
Footsteps alerted you to a presence behind you and you spun around to meet Wanda’s kind eyes.
“Hey,” you breathed, a wobble in your voice.
“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to be by yourself bu-” Wanda began to walk towards you, taking your hands in hers.
“It’s okay,” you reassured her, pulling her into a hug. “I understand. Plus, everyone was probably missing me tons. You know, I don’t know how they survived without me.” You feigned a confident front, but you weren’t sure that Wanda was fooled.
She laughed nervously, taking your arm in hers and leading you towards one of the main rooms. You stopped before the door, looking across at your friend. She gave you a comforting smile before opening the doors and walking in. Your body felt like lead as you stepped through the doorway, seeing the same people you had left two years ago.
Nat’s eyes met yours and she rushed over, wrapping you in her arms. Although she rarely showed it, Natasha was one of the most caring people you had ever met. It was an extreme contrast to the act she maintained, but you knew her in a way no-one else did. She pulled back, her hands on your shoulders as she studied your face. You could see the relief on her face as you took in her appearance.
“I like the hair,” you let out a laugh. “You know, it’s hard for a redhead to pull off blonde.”
“Good thing I have the attitude for it,” she smirked, hugging you once again before returning to the large screen in the centre of the room.
You spotted Vision at the other side of the room, talking with Wanda, and gave him a quick wave. He responded with a smile, still growing accustomed to human greetings.
“Where’s Steve?” you spoke softly, to no-one in particular.
Natasha turned to look at you, “He’s in his room. Something about not wanting to make you uncomfortable or nervous.”
“I’m gonna-” you trailed off, leaving the room.
The corridors were hauntingly familiar, the same lights flickering as your shoes moved quietly along the wooden floor. 84. It was still 84 steps from the stairs to your room. Your heart rate increased as your hand stroked the door handle, pressing it lightly to reveal your room. Nothing had been moved, it looked as though you had been there only yesterday. The light streamed in from the closed window, thin, white curtains sitting perfectly still. You walked slowly towards the centre of the room, dropping your backpack onto your bed. It was a weird sensation, being back in a place that held so many mixed emotions.
You were snapped out of your memories as footsteps quickly approached from behind. You spun around and saw Steve standing in the door frame, an apologetic look on his face.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were back already,” Steve diverted his eyes, avoiding meeting yours. “I thought someone was-”
He stopped talking as you walked towards him. Once you were within touching distance, your lower lip began to quiver and you wrapped your arms around him quickly, sobs escaping your lips. He sighed in relief and hugged you back.
“I’m sorry,” you spluttered, pulling away to look up at him. “I shouldn’t have gone off on my own, it was stupid and-”
“Hey, no,” Steve pulled you back into his chest. “I just-, I got scared. But that’s my fault, not yours.”
You stayed in the same position for a few minutes, just taking comfort in his familiar heartbeat. When you pulled away, he wiped the tears from your face before walking you back through to the meeting room. Natasha was now joined by Rhodey and they were deep in discussion, frequently referencing to various sheets of paper that were strewn across the table. They looked up when you entered, Rhodey folding his arms across his chest.
“Welcome back,” you hadn’t met Rhodey before, only briefly encountered him at the airport battle, but you could tell you were going to get along with him pretty well. “You heard of Thanos?”
———————————————————————————————————
“What did you do?” Thor bellowed. The gauntlet was fried, burned into Thanos’ skin. The titan looked around, a smile growing across his face, before summoning a portal and falling through. You looked across at Bucky, who was standing from where he had been thrown. A sense of unease settled across Wakanda and glancing around, it was obvious that everyone felt the same. You launched yourself into the air, trying to see the battlefield, to see if the same dread could be felt across the nation. And that’s where you saw it. Soldiers floating away in the wind, nothing but ashes. Your heart dropped as your mouth opened, your breathing staggering. You crashed back into the forest, looking around at your fellow Avengers.
“Something’s not right, people are-are-” you stuttered, your heart racing faster than it ever had. Steve looked across at you, concerned.
“Steve,” Bucky’s voice came from behind you as you turned. A pile of dust was on the floor, where Bucky’s body would have fallen. Your breath hitched as tears pricked your eyes. Steve staggered over, his heart breaking in his chest. Kneeling down, he ran his fingers through the remains of his best friend, his face obvious with distress. He looked up between you and Thor, the three of you sharing a thought. What the hell is going on?
Something inside of you felt off. Your stomach lurched as you looked up at Steve, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. He stood quickly, racing over to hold you in his arms.
“Steve, I-I don’t know-” you spluttered, tears staining his armor.
“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” Steve’s voice cracked, his facade of strength dissolving before your very eyes. Natasha burst through the trees, her breathing heavy and her face panicked. You had never seen her this way before, the unshakable assassin, shaken. You fell to the floor as your knees gave out, Steve going with you. He held you in his lap, his hands running through your hair.
“What’s going to happen?” your voice wavered as you looked up at your mentor, your face tacky with salty tears.
“I-I don’t know,” Steve could barely look at you, feeling sick to his stomach. “But it’s going to be okay, I’m gonna figure it out, okay?” He nodded, trying to convince himself most of all.
Your legs went numb and you tilted your head to look down, but Steve placed his hand under your chin, lifting your eyes back to his. Your breathing sped up, panic settling in your stomach as you felt like you were going to throw up.
“I love you, Dad.”
Steve fell forward as your body dissolved before him. A tear fell from his eyes onto the ashes on his arms. Natasha walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she chewed on her bottom lip, her anxieties getting the best of her. Steve looked at the floor, his body heating with despair and anger.
“This isn’t over. I will get them back, and I will kill Thanos.”
Your eyelids were heavy as light beamed through the thin layer of skin. Squinting, you lifted a hand to cover your face and sat up slowly. Steve was gone. Looking around you could see Bucky standing up, Sam on the floor and the tree guy next to a log. But no Steve, no Natasha, no Rhodey. You made eye contact with Bucky, and confusion was plastered across his face, as you were sure it was across yours.
“Where’s Steve?” you stuttered, your legs shaking beneath you. Stumbling over to Sam, you took his hand and he gave it a quick squeeze. “Where’s anyone?”
“I don’t know,” Bucky spoke slowly, moving to join the pair of you as T’Challa and Wanda emerged from seperate parts of the forest. You lowered yourself to the ground slowly, your body exhausted from whatever had just happened. Sam rubbed his forehead, desperately trying to hold it together and figure out an answer to the thousands of questions running through his head.
Your breathing was speeding up, your heart pounding in your chest; it felt as though your ribs were about to explode from the pressure. Your worried eyes met Bucky’s and he knelt down beside you, taking your hand in his larger, calloused grip. He gave you a soft smile, exaggerating his breathing to encourage you to fall in sync with his. Due to his past, Bucky was no stranger to anxiety and thus he was the one you always went to when your body started to act against you. He was more than happy to help, seeing you like a little sister and wanting nothing more than to protect you from the big, bad world. Your lip quivered before you took it between your teeth, hard enough to draw blood. Your eyes darted between Bucky and Sam, but as you looked at them you saw them looking in an entirely different direction.
A man stood before a glowing, amber circle, his red cape floating behind him as he strided towards you.
“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange. I was with Tony Stark as we fought Thanos, and I’m assuming you lost as we did,” Stephen’s eyes danced across the group, trying to devise the leader.
Sam stepped forward, “Nah, this is our victory party. You don’t see the balloons?” Despite his jokes, his voice was dark, serious.
“It’s been 5 years since our defeat,” your eyebrows furrowed at Strange’s statement. “And the Avengers need us.”
———————————————————————————————————–
“Avengers, assemble.”
Roars broke out from all around you, an army running and fighting as one. Steve was at the forefront, his shield in one hand and Mjolnir in the other. You could see the grime and dried blood that coated his face from your position, despite being fairly far away. You sprinted forward, a cry escaping your lips in anticipation of the extreme battle that quickly approached. Holding your arms out before you, you launched yourself into the air and thrust your fist into an oncoming Leviathan. The punch reverberated through its entire being and it began to fall as a white horse came flying through the air, the Valkyrie atop it slicing the beast’s spine. You sent her a quick smile before turning to observe the ongoing battle. You bolted into a large group of Outriders, a shockwave exploding beneath your feet and sending creatures flying into the air, where they were quickly taken out by Tony and Pepper. You were moving at an incredible pace, legs and arms flying as you obliterated any Outriders that dared to threaten you.
“What do I do with this thing?” Clint’s voice was familiar over comms, and instantly you knew the object he was referring to. The gauntlet.
“Get it as far away from here as possible,” the sound of Steve’s voice made your heart skip a beat. A smile broke onto your face as you realised, this could be it. This could be the end of Thanos, the end of constantly looking over your shoulder for trouble. You could have a life after this. Your eyes roamed the battlefield, searching for a glimpse of the red glove. Amongst the hoards of creatures, you spotted Clint diving and dodging oncoming attacks and bulleted towards him, your feet leaving the ground and your body becoming streamlined.
“Hey kid, not really an ideal time,” Clint spoke, his breathing heavy as he dodged under a blade that flew towards him.
“Gimme that thing,” you nodded towards the gauntlet.
“Hell no, I’ve already fallen for that once today,” he continued to run, the glove tucked underneath his arm.
“Clint,” you looked at him, your eyes stern. “I can fly. They can’t get it up there.”
The man hesitated a moment, before holding the gauntlet out to you, “Touché.”
With the gauntlet secured in your grip, you bolted into the air, your hair flying out behind you. The roars of battle echoed from below, but your focus remained on getting the glove away from Thanos. A searing pain shot through your abdomen as you were thrown to the ground. Looking down, you saw the hilt of a knife sticking out of your side. You gasped, blood trickling down your side as you brought yourself to stand again, gripping the knife and pulling it out of you. Gritting your teeth, your eyes roaming for the perpetrator as you began to run. Your feet were heavy beneath you, swinging back and forth across the uneven battlefield. Shots rang out around you, but you didn’t flinch. Once again, you jumped into the air, throwing your head back to look at the ships above you.
Bullets flew past you, bolts of energy and weapons you couldn’t recognise skimming your armor. Leather could only hold off so much, and little cuts and digs were becoming bigger and more painful. You could feel your power draining as your body began to give out, failing under the increasing pressure of losing oxygen and blood. Your eyes struggled to remain open as the air became thinner and you felt your grip on the gauntlet loosening. In a panic, you scrambled to hug the glove to your chest and you began to fall. The ground was closing in as you squeezed your eyes shut to prepare for impact.
“Hi, I’ve got you!” a familiar voice rang out as you felt arms catching you. You forced your eyes open and saw the familiar mask of Spiderman. A breathy chuckle escaped your lips as Peter raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile across his face. “I thought you said you could fly.”
You simply nudged him in response, trying to maintain any kind of energy that was left in your exhausted body. “You have spider-legs now?”
“Oh these things?” Peter glanced at his suit as you reached the ground, him letting you down gently. “That’s not even the best bit.” He reached out for the glove, and you gave it to him gladly. You smiled at him before he swung off, gauntlet in hand. You allowed yourself a few moments to catch your breath, glancing around at the battlefield and trying to find your teammates. You spotted Rhodey in the air, thrusters lit up as he attacked a Leviathan, with Sam on his tail, shots firing out at a rapid speed.
Blood rushed through your body as you gathered your strength to stand, muscled legs holding you up. A herd of Outriders watched you rise and sprinted towards you, teeth scratching and drool flying as they ran. You gritted your teeth as your rubbed your hands together, readying your familiar fighting stance. Your fists acted upon muscle memory, driving into chests and faces, legs flying and stomping on fallen creatures. Your armor became covered in Outrider gore, staining your skin with a deep blue tint. You fought until an entire group of monster corpses lay at your feet, your breathing was heavy and sweat droplets coated your forehead. With a quick swipe of your hand, your face was almost cleared of Outrider blood and your eyes focused once again as you looked towards the surrounding creatures.
“I am inevitable,” Thanos’ voice rang out over the battlefield and you spun to see the heavy gauntlet on his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers touched, the sharp snap cutting through the dense air. A confused look appeared across the titan’s face as he turned his hand, revealing the lack of infinity stones. You gasped as your eyes roamed to Tony, who was kneeling with the stones implanting on his suit.
“I. Am. Iron Man.”
A sharp, metallic tone shattered the air. Pain was instantly shown on Tony’s face as his body crumpled to the ground. The hoards of creatures that had begun to charge towards you stopped, all seeming to share a thought. These monsters that you had previously thought incapable of emotion were scared. A quick look around the battlefield showed that their entire race was reacting the same way. The area was almost silent, only heavy breathing could be heard over your comms.
Your feet began to move slowly beneath you, carrying your body towards the familiar presence of Wanda, who was stood near to you. Without turning to look at you, she took your hand in hers, her eyes still glued to the titan knelt in the centre of the fight. Around you, ships fell from the sky, exploding as they met the ground. Fire burst out in the perimeter of the battlefield, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the monster stood before you. His breathing slowed as his eyes dropped to the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. He remained there for a few seconds before looking up towards Tony, and dissolving away with the wind. Your breath hitched in your throat as he turned to ash. You tilted your head up to look at Wanda as a single tear rolled down her face. She dragged her eyes towards you and a relieved smile broke onto her face as she looked at you. You pulled her into a tight hug, sobs escaping both of you as you felt her arms around you.
You pulled away after a few moments, your tearstained face smiling up at her with a mix of relief and heartbreak. You couldn’t imagine the cacophony of emotions whirring through her body. Your heartbeat was steadily increasing as you looked around the battlefield, looking for one person. Steve. Your comms were alight with conversation and celebration, making it impossible to identify individual voices. And then, from across the battlefield, your eyes locked with his. A breathy sob escaped your lips as you began to sprint towards him, your injured legs stumbling as you crossed the uneven terrain.
His arms were around you within an instant, your face pressed into his chest. Tears spilled from both of you, neither in belief of what had actually happened. Steve pulled away to look at your face, and despite being in his old uniform, you could see the weathered effect the past 5 years had had on him. His eyes were swimming as he assessed your face, barely an hour older than when you had disappeared before him. Your mind raced with questions but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
“Hey kid,” Steve’s voice cracked as he looked down at you, his hands on your shoulders.
“Hey,” you stuttered, your voice shaking. “So, it’s not weird that I called you dad right?”
Steve laughed, shaking his head, “It would be an honor.”
He pulled you into him once again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You spent a few moments just relishing in the familiarity of your family. Wanda had approached the pair of you, alongside Bucky and Sam. Steve took Bucky into his arms, patting his back as he pressed his face into Bucky’s soft shoulder. Sam jokingly wrapped his arm around the pair, encasing them in a group hug. You smiled at the action, taking Wanda’s hand once again. Once the group of boys had separated, Steve gave Wanda a quick hug, smiling at his friend. You situated yourself between Steve and Bucky, an arm around each as you settled into the comfort of your family.
Peering around the group, you noticed an empty space, “Where’s Nat?”
Steve’s face dropped as he looked around the group, “She -uh, she didn’t make it.”
Your eyes clouded over as your eyes fell to the ground. The group shared a few minutes of silence, grieving for your fallen sister. You reached to take Steve’s hand in your own, giving it a squeeze and looking up at him through clouded eyes. “She knows we won, and we won for her.”
———————————————————————————————————–
Tony’s lakeside cabin was beautiful during the summer, the rays of sun beaming through the windows. You could have sat out by the lake for hours, not a single thought crossing your mind. It was peaceful, and you felt the most peace in knowing that Tony and Natasha were at peace as well. The funeral had been deeply emotional; you hadn’t known Tony too well yourself, but seeing the effect he had had on people’s lives proved to you how important your job was. You sat on the porch, watching Tony’s young daughter as she played by the lakeshore. An absent-minded smile danced across your face, the cool breeze tickling your face.
“Hey kid,” Steve approached you, his hands in his pockets as he sat next to you. You lifted your eyes to meet his, noticing the nerves he was trying to hide. Your eyebrows furrowed, but you shifted to give him some space.
“Hey,” your voice was soft. “How is everyone?”
Steve took a deep breath, surveying the horizon before you, “As good as they can be, I guess. Bruce is setting everything up, should be ready to go pretty soon. Best to just get it all fixed now.” You nodded up at him, leaning your head on his shoulder. He responded by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, hugging you into his side. “Can we talk?”
“What else were we doing?” you turned to face him, your entire body shifting as you crossed your legs beneath you.
“I mean, a serious talk.”
“Of course, what’s up?” nerves rumbled in your stomach as he looked down at you, his well known “serious face” on display.
“I think I’m going to stay there,” Steve’s eyes dropped to the floor, as though he was trying to look at anything other than you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Where? What are you-” you stopped yourself as realisation vibrated through your body. “As in-?”
Steve nodded, his eyes clouding with tears.
“With Peggy?” Your voice cracked as you felt your throat thicken. Tears threatened to spill, but you focused all of your efforts into staying strong, for him.
“I- I can’t stay here when I could be living the life I truly want.”
You ducked to meet Steve’s eyeline, drawing it back to you. Giving him a reassuring smile, you took a deep breath and composed yourself. “I understand, and I love you. No matter what.”
Steve pulled you towards him, tears falling from his eyes onto your hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head then placed his cheek on top. He could feel your chest rising and falling unevenly as quiet sobs escaped your lips. Your face was pressed into his shirt, taking comfort in being able to hear his heartbeat.
“Say hi to Peggy for me,” you smiled, your lower lip quivering as a tear dropped onto your cheek. Steve pulled away from you, taking your face in his hands. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his eyes alight with emotion as he looked down at you.
“Do you want to come out, stand with Sam and Buck?” You nodded in response, taking his hand gently in yours. “I’ve spoken to Bucky, but we’re not gonna tell Sam. I don’t think he would take it too well.”
“Judging by some of his previous reactions, I would say you’re correct,” you laughed slightly as the two of you left the lodge. The brief walk through the forest was a daze, you barely felt as though your feet were touching the floor. You tried your hardest to take in every moment, knowing it would be some of your last with Steve, but your uncertainty took hold of your consciousness.
You reached the clearing where Bucky and Sam were deep in conversation with Bruce. The pair turned as they heart your footsteps, Bucky giving you a knowing smile as his eyes met yours. Sam jogged over, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
“You okay, kid?” he looked down at you.
You wiped your face quickly, having forgotten about the tears. “Yeah, just allergies.”
“I keep telling you to go outside, instead of stuck in your room all day,” Sam’s eyebrows raised in an “I-told-you-so” manner.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you shoved his chest jokingly, making a beeline towards Bruce. You watched as he pulled a small briefcase out from beneath the table. Steve stepped towards you, unclasping the buckles to ensure that all of the Infinity Stones were counted for.
“Remember, the exact second they were taken, then-”
“Then back, yep. Got it,” you were surprised at how Steve sounded, confident. He closed the case, taking it in one hand and Mjolnir in the other. It still shocked you to see the magnificent hammer in his grip. He climbed the stairs, not looking back at the group of friends behind him. You found yourself moving towards Bucky, wrapping your arm around his.
“Okay, and 3, 2, 1,” Bruce pressed a button on the machine and Steve was gone. You breath faltered and Bucky reached to take your hand, his eyes still fixated on the spot where his best friend had just stood. You remained silent, not wanting to bring Sam’s attention to you, not wanting to let him know anything that was happening.
“And back in 3, 2, 1.”
You turned your head into Bucky’s shoulder, trying to steady your breathing as you began to accept that he was gone.
“Where is he?!” Sam’s voice boomed through the bare clearing as he glared across at Bruce, who was panicking and rushing around his equipment.
Bucky nudged you with his shoulder, causing you to look up and across at the bench by the lake. A small silhouette was outlined in light, white hair sitting atop of a frail, old body.
“Sam,” Bucky’s voice pulled Sam out of his confusion as he turned, following Bucky’s gaze towards the old man. “You go ahead.”
Sam walked over slowly, his hands in his pockets as he looked out to the water. You watched the conversation, too far away to hear any of the words spoken. Bucky remained in silence, your hand still in his. He pulled his eyes from the scene before him and looked down at you, trying to gauge your feelings towards the situation. “You wanna go speak to him?”
You considered for a moment before shaking your head. “We said our goodbyes, I’m okay.” Bucky gave you a soft smile before turning his attention back towards his friends. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before spinning on your heels, your gaze fixed on the cabin through the woods. A tear fell to your cheek as you left, leaving behind the comfort of your father. Thoughts spun through your head as you walked, but you brushed them to the side.
The future is bright, so full of opportunity and possibility. And you have to take it. For Natasha, for Tony, for Steve.
