#i'm looking forward to sam's chapters for so very many reasons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zepskies · 1 year ago

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Hello, my friend!! So excited to read your thoughts on Part 7!! 🥳💕

Oh yeah, we're straight in with the food innuendo. 😂 But I'm so glad that you agree it set the tone! That's exactly what I was aiming for.

There were multiple reasons why she didn't invite him over your house, and you hit the nail on the head lmao. I don't think they would've been able to get it on quite as vivaciously if they knew grandad was right upstairs. 😂

But I’m also glad that Dean was quite blasé about it really, he showed that it wasn’t a big deal for him that she lives with him. I feel not all potential romantic partners would be quite so understanding. And actually, it just goes on deans growing tick list of things he loves about the reader. Double win!

I was hoping someone would make this point, because that's exactly what was on my mind with that part as well. I think Dean's a very mature guy where it matters, especially when it comes to "taking care of your people."

When he told her the story of his mum and the apple pie my heart just hurt for him. Poor boy. It’s so lovely to see him keeping opening up to her though.

Yeah, he almost thought better of saying it, but her being a good listener got it out of him. 😘

I like how you incorporated johns canon obsession here slightly differently. But still dragging his boys through it. I think Sam’s concerns are completely valid but i do look forward to seeing how that whole side of the story pans out. It’s got to be different this time right?

Yes! I've been very conscious of this and how John's obsession ties into the larger narrative with Azazel. It will be similar but different in many ways going forward.

Hmm I do love all the soft touches and build up as they were baking. Kisses to the neck and then when he licked her fingers. It’s clear there’s only one way this is going! I’m all here for it though

It's all about the buildup lol. 😏 (One of many perks indeed!)

I loved this paragraph because I could totally relate. We would all ogle if we had the chance, let’s face it 😂 and I can totally see deans proud smirk at you doing it too haha.

Oh absolutely, that smug MF'er knows he's good looking. 😂

But he stops and checks. That bit really surprised me but I thought it was a great addition! It really shows how serious he is about this relationship.

He's caught feelings fr fr! And he doesn't wanna mess it up. He is serious, even though it's still in that new/scary/exciting phase. ❤️

And then we get to the smut! I know you say you find smut harder to write but girl, you did an amazing job with this 🔥🥵🥵 you did not disappoint in the slightest. The start when she was shocked he even wanted to do that for her and to his cheeky comment “Oh, I’m about to earn it.” His eyes found yours. “You know what my real favorite pie flavor is?” SO. DAMN. HOT.

LOLLL thank you, my love! I really did work extra hard on this whole scene, so I'm very glad that paid off and you enjoyed it lol. And I had to do a "cherry pie" reference. You already know Warrant is on his iTunes playlist. 😂😂

And what impressed me even more is you managed to get in the protection talk/check which is very important but it didn’t take anything away from the smut. Great job!

Thank you!! I appreciate you saying that because I feel like it's a reality most people don't include (it's fanfic to be fair), but I tried to incorporate it in a way that was still sexy. 😘

And after all that there’s going to be some very burnt cake. I think it’s worth it though 😏

I think we'd all let that cake burn to a crisp, let's be honest. 😂 I'm so glad this chapter didn't disappoint, hun!! Thank you so much for your lovely comments, as always. 💞💞

Smoke Eater - Part 7

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥Series Masterlist

AN: So I don't know why it takes me exactly seven chapters to get to the smut, but so far that's three different series where that's happened. 😂 (Never Say Goodbye, Break Me Down, and now Smoke Eater. Go figure! 🤷🏽‍♀️)

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! For smutty smut and baking shenanigans, tinge of angst.

Part 7: “Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle”

You liked Dean’s apartment. It was on the second floor out of three, and a modest, clean, comfortable space.

Though overall it felt very “dude bro” in décor. You supposed that made sense, considering it was just Sam and Dean living here.

And while you still hadn’t met Sam (he was working late tonight), it gave you a chance to do something you’d been very much looking forward to doing with Dean…

“Not for nothin’, this is probably one in three of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” said Dean.

True to his word, his mouth was full. You giggled as a flake of pasta spewed from his mouth.

“Oh really? Makes me curious about the other two,” you said mischievously. And you handed him a napkin to blot his face.

You sat across from him in the small dining room adjacent to the kitchen. The table itself was barely big enough to fit in the space, feeling more like a nook than a room, but it sat three people. That was usually enough for Sam and Dean, and occasionally Eileen when she came over.

Dean chuckled, his brows dancing. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out.”

Your face warmed at that, despite your amusement. You had made dinner, for which Dean had been more than enthusiastic.

“You mean I get an actual chef making me food? Sign me the hell up,” he’d teased.

Never mind that you weren’t an actual chef. You had focused on patisserie in culinary school. He didn’t seem to mind though, as he’d devoured two servings of salmon and fettucine alfredo, even down to the steamed broccoli. You had to admit, it warmed you inside to see him enjoy your food.

You’d promised to cook for him last week, and he hadn’t let it go until both your schedules opened up enough for you to come over.

He now hummed in satisfaction as he finished off the last bite on his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin.

“Thanks for this, sweetheart. I needa have you around here more often,” he said, tossing you a grin.

You smiled back. “It’s my pleasure.”

It wasn’t the first time Dean had invited you over to his apartment, but for the life of you, you didn’t know why it had taken you so long to accept.

…Well, okay, you did know why. You were reluctant to leave your grandfather alone, potentially all night. But George had been adamant about you going out for as long as you wanted, on the promise that he’d check in every few hours until he went to bed.

“Okay, ready for dessert?” you asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. He still thought about those cookies you brought to the firehouse, almost a month ago already.

Damn, has it really been that long? he thought as he helped you collect the dishes from dinner. He followed you into the kitchen, where you already knew the lay of his land.

Sam couldn’t cook for shit, so it usually fell on Dean to be the figure of culinary expertise. But he had no problem making way for you, especially if you were going to look over your shoulder and wink at him like that.

“Good, because you’re going to help me,” you informed him.

Dean’s smile grew. “All right…what did you have in mind?”

While he started on the dishes in the sink, you hauled out even more ingredients from a big grocery bag you’d brought and stored in the refrigerator. He watched you out of the corner of his eye and spotted lemons, among other things.

“Lemon drizzle cake,” you replied. “One of my grandma’s recipes. I just need a mixing bowl and a cake tin.”

“Good, because we’re not very Betty Crocker in this place. Let’s just say my kitchen tools are limited,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know, if you wanted to bake, I’m sure you’ve got all the proper bells and whistles at your house. We could’ve done this over there.”

You paused to consider the question he wasn’t quite asking, because he had a point. You could’ve invited him over your house instead. You joined him near the sink and leaned against the counter, tapping your nails on the tile surface.

“Well, as you know, I live with my grandpa,” you said.

“Good ol’ George,” Dean grinned. “That guy’s hilarious. Like the fourth Stooge.”

He particularly liked the story you’d told him about the time George had bought you your first makeup palette when you turned fifteen, but hadn’t told you it was face paint…the kind that clowns used.

“And I’d love for you two to get to know each other better. Don’t get me wrong. But barring the fact that we probably wouldn’t have much…privacy,” you pointed out with a subtle smile, trying to ignore Dean’s resulting smirk. Never mind that you two hadn’t needed “privacy” just yet.

“I guess I’m just not used to inviting people over. I’ve been trying to limit the exposure to germs in the house,” you admitted. At Dean’s quizzical look, you had to explain.

“My grandfather had cancer last year,” you said. “He had surgery to remove the mass, and did well, considering his age. He’s in remission now…but I’m still looking after him.”

You’d gone with him to see his primary doctor a couple of weeks ago for that persistent cough. While the doctor seemed to think it was George’s asthma acting up, you’d still scheduled an appointment with his oncologist.

And while your thoughts led you down an all-too familiar path, Dean processed this with a nod of his head. He shut off the sink. After drying his hands, he looked over at you and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m glad he’s doing better now,” he said. His brows furrowed. “And your grandma passed just a few years before that?”

You nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s been a long few years.”

So, Dean took an inventory in his mind as he rested a comforting hand on your back. You took care of your family. You could cook. You were beautiful. And still, you kicked ass at your job and seemed to have the rest of your shit together.

He had to admit. The more he learned about you, the more he liked you.

“Anyway,” you shook your head with a smile. “Sorry. Ready to bake?”

Dean’s lips quirked as he followed you to the other side of the kitchen. He stepped behind you and letting his hands fall to your waist. His lips skimmed the side of your head, pressing a kiss there.

“Okay, Rachael Ray,” he teased. “Teach me your ways.”

You were trying to measure out some sugar in the bowl first, but you giggled with a warm blush as he kissed his way down your neck.

“Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to distract me?” you volleyed back.

Dean hummed against the crook of your neck. “Can’t I do both?”

You picked up and egg and raised it level with his face.

“Hmm, should I try cracking this against your forehead?” you pondered.

His teeth playfully nipped your skin in retaliation, making you flinch with a yelp. The egg actually cracked in your hand.

“Shit,” you laughed, and you quickly dropped as much of it in the bowl as possible. But getting fractals of the shell in the bowl disturbed your anal sense of meticulousness. When it came to cracking eggs, you typically had nothing if not precision.

You shot Dean an accusatory look over your shoulder. He just grinned back at you.

“Am I helping yet?” he joked.

You chuckled dryly in response. “Just you wait.”

A few more minutes and “helpful” distractions from Dean later, you successfully had a cake batter in the bowl. You were hand mixing up a storm and sorely missing your Kitchen Aid mixer. Dean was right though; his cupboards had little more than one cake pan, one mixing bowl, and one wooden spoon.

At home, you had a modest collection of cookware and bakeware that rivaled Williams & Sonoma. Though that had been a gift from your grandparents, when you graduated from culinary school. (Your grandma had picked them out before she passed.)

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you asked Dean. You were pretending not to catch him sampling the batter with a finger while you buttered the cake tin.

“Ever?” he asked, rubbing a licked finger on his jeans.

“Yeah. Number one top favorite.”

“Hmm,” he contemplated with a cross of his arms. “Pie, I guess.”

You smirked. That explained his little man-child display a few weeks ago, when you’d tried to share his blueberry pie on your second date.

“What flavor?” you asked.

“I dunno. I’m not real picky,” he said.

“Come on. Everyone has a favorite flavor,” you reasoned. “I’m more of a cake girl myself, but even I love a blueberry pie.”

Dean eyed your teasing grin with a growing smirk of his own. He remembered that day in your office just as well as you.

“Okay, fine. Apple, I guess,” he replied. You gave him a mocking look.

“Really, the most basic of them all?” You tsked at him, shaking your head. “What happened to Mr. Rocky Road?”

Dean chuckled, but he leaned against the counter next to you. Instead of giving it to you right back, as usual, he looked more thoughtful. A gentler look grew on his face. It caught your attention.

“You know, one of my earliest memories…” He looked up at you then, more self-deprecating.

You realized he was about to admit to something, maybe embarrassing, or maybe just vulnerable. Your smile softened too as you paused in what you were doing.

“You can’t leave me hanging on that one,” you said. And you drew closer with a hand soothing up his arm.

He glanced over at you. “I remember being…four, probably. My mom made pies during Christmastime. Cherry, pecan, whatever. But my favorite was her apple pie. I still remember it, because I haven’t had a pie since that tasted like that one.”

Your heart clenched, but your insides also warmed. Not just at the story of his mother, but the way Dean told it, his voice softer, steady, and deep. It told you a lot about him without him having to explain; just like you, he knew what loss was.

You curled your hands around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then your gaze drew back up to his.

“Have you talked to your dad since the last time?” you asked, a bit cautiously. “About his investigation of the fire?”

Dean sighed deep through his nose. “No.”

But despite his father’s warning, he had spoken to Sam.

“It’s different this time, Sam. The brand marks are the same,” Dean argued with his brother, this time in the living room. He sat on the couch while Sam stood, trying to process everything Dean had just told him about Mary’s potential murder.

“You saw the pictures yourself?” Sam asked.

Dean frowned. “No, but Dad—”

“Dean,” Sam cut him off as he gripped at his temples in frustration. “This is what he does. He sees evidence where he wants to see evidence. I’ve been down this road with him too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean gritted out. John had roped Sam into helping him a few times, using his ADA status to look into different leads that ultimately hadn’t panned out.

“They always look like connections to him, but they never end up being anything more than his obsession,” Sam said.

He was firm, and Dean understood why, but his gut was telling him that it was different this time…

Still, he had no choice but to let it go. For now.

Dean shook his head of that memory. Instead, he tried to focus on being here with you. He liked this little yellow sundress you had on, despite the fall chill starting to set in outside. As usual, your hair was clipped up away from your neck while you got ready to put the now full cake tin into the oven.

He came over behind you and freed your hair from the clip, letting it all tumble down. You yelped and glanced over at him.

“Dean,” you chided, even though you were smiling. “My hair’s going to get in the batter.”

“I’ll keep it away, don’t worry,” he said lightly. He curled some of your hair around his hand so he could once again press a tantalizing kiss to the back of your neck. He felt you shiver.

You subtly leaned back against him, even as you whined in protest.

“Can you just let me get this in the oven?” you asked on a laugh. He smirked against your skin. You did manage to get the cake in the oven, but his lips and teasing hands were unrelenting as you tried to start cleaning up.

So you felt you had to take matters into your own hands. A mischievous idea had you smiling. You reached out for some flour that had spilled on the counter.

You turned, and before he realized what you were up to, you marked his forehead with an arch of white against his skin.

“Simba,” you said in a deeper voice, trying to mimic Mufasa from The Lion King.

Dean’s brows rose along with his widening eyes. He’d never seen you do something that childish, but it sparked his competitiveness as he blinked a bit of flour out of his eyes.

“You’re real proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked.

Your little smirk was answer enough. You flicked a bit more flour onto his shirt.

Dean chuckled darkly. “Okay, you asked for it.”

Both a gasp and a giggle caught in your throat.

“Oh, no.”

He reached past you for some flour off the counter and flicked it down at you, into your hair, across your face. He grabbed your flailing wrist and marked your cheeks. All the while, his grin grew ever deeper at your shrieking protests.

But you grew devious. You stuck two fingers into the bowl and scraped out a gob of raw, yellow batter. You were fully prepared to fling it into his face, but Dean grabbed your wrist.

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

He soon released you with a soft pop, before he did the same to the second finger.

Your breath hitched, and your blush was a living thing spreading down your neck, even as warmth pooled between your legs. By the time your second finger slid out of his mouth, you had to reach back to grip the counter just to steady yourself.

His arm slipped around your waist, and you reached for his face with both hands, bringing him down for the hottest kiss you’d ever had in your life. Teeth clicking, lips and tongues warring and devouring. Your fingers slipped roughly through his hair, while he gripped your hips and ass with a passion just shy of bruising.

You almost didn’t register the way his hands slipped under your thighs, to then heft you up onto the counter. You gasped into his mouth and clung tightly to his shoulders. He chuckled and positioned himself to stand between your legs.

“What, need a little warning?” he teased. Though he was breathless as your soft lips veered away from his, starting a burning path across his jaw and down his neck. You left the remnants of your lipstick all along the way, but it was the occasional graze of your teeth that had him moaning for you.

“Maybe,” you whispered coarsely against his skin, uttering a small laugh, “Sometimes I forget how damn strong you are.”

He scoffed. “Sweetheart, if I can heft a grown man on my shoulders up a flight of stairs, I can get you up on a little counter.”

You snorted in response. Perks of dating a firefighter.

And you shoved off his plaid shirt from his shoulders. Dean helped you by letting it drop the rest of the way to the floor, followed by his black undershirt.

You couldn’t believe this was the first time you were seeing him with his shirt off. It was a damn shame, really. But you caught the bit of smugness curving his lips at the way you were ogling, first with your eyes, then with your exploring hands over his toned arms and chest, and the solid plane of his abs, all the way down to his belt. You started undoing the clasp.

Dean couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he stopped you with his hands gently curling around your wrists. You looked up at him in confusion. To him, you looked unbelievably sexy then. Thoroughly kissed, hair tousled, a strap of your dress fallen to one shoulder while your lacey black bra peeked through.

Just the memory of having your curves in his hands had his dick hardening in his jeans, but he blew out a breath.

“Dean?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

His hands tightened on yours as he peered down at you. “Are you sure?”

You blinked incredulously. “Did I look not sure?”

He paused, licking his lips. He raised a hand to hold your cheek.

“I just…you know I’m trying to do this right with you,” he said. “I just want to know…”

He couldn’t seem to finish what he was trying to say, but you thought you understood. You smiled up at him warmly. You leaned up for a kiss, softer this time.

“Dean, I trust you,” you said. And you could finally say it with no reservations. “I think this feels real. More real than anything I’ve had in a long time… What about you?”

When Dean smiled, it was warm, melting away the doubt in his eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

He seemed sincere. Maybe this man spared few words when it came to how he felt, but you’d seen a glimpse of the deeper parts. He felt things deeply, down to his bones.

His fingers sunk into your hair, and he guided you into a kiss. It was slower, but no less heady and wanting than the first. Your arms wrapped around his middle, letting you flatten your palms against the muscles in his back. But just as you were getting comfortable, Dean broke the kiss. He flashed you a smirk.

Before you could ask what the hell he was about to do, he’d hefted you back into his arms and over his shoulder. You squawked in protest as your whole world tipped over. Your face thudded on his back with a soft oof, your hair loose and falling like a curtain. Your hands accidentally fell against his ass.

“Ooh, someone’s handsy,” Dean teased.

“Dean!” you exclaimed, despite your peals of laughter. “Is this really necessary? I think I can find your room just fine.”

“Call it an officer’s escort,” he supplied.

“That’s for policemen!” you argued.

You couldn’t see it, but you could imagine the way he was grinning from ear to ear as he carried you through the apartment. You never noticed just how long his bowed legs were as he strode onward. But it felt like his shoulder was digging into your appendix.

Grunting in frustration, you slapped his ass again for good measure.

Dean laughed. “Hey, you’re only fueling my fire, baby.”

He slapped your ass right back, since he had an even better vantage point. He even slipped a hand underneath your little sundress and squeezed the inside of your thigh teasingly.

Your answering yelp, and the futile kick of your feet, had him laughing harder. His cheeks were aching.

Finally he reached his room, where he shut the door with his foot. He was gentle as he eased you off his shoulder and laid you down on his bed. You let out a breathless huff once your head hit the pillows. Your face was all red from being suspended upside-down, your hair a mess, and your dress pooling over your folded legs.

You gave Dean a playful glare. “Get over here.”

His smirk deepened, but he obliged you. He chucked his shoes off first, just like you let your sandals slip off the side of the bed.

He soon made his way up the bed, until he was hovering over you with his arms braced on either side of your head. He liked the way you were all laid out for him over his sheets, your wild hair spread over his pillows. He’d pictured something like this before, but nothing came close to having you for real.

He just didn’t know you’d been dreaming of the same thing.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly fall for someone, not in a long time. You’d been too focused on pivoting after school, on building your career, on taking care of your family. You’d dated here and there, but nothing had stuck for more than a few months. Even then, you’d never felt half of what you felt right now.

It scared you a little, but it also made you feel alive. Being with Dean made you feel that way.

So you took his face between your hands. His stubble rasped against your palms and the pads of your fingers. You didn’t mind that though. He’d left it a bit long for a shave last week. When you’d mentioned off-hand that you liked the thicker scruff (thinking it made him all the more handsome), he’d kept it for you.

Now, he seemed like he was waiting on your cue.

You guided him down to you. He kissed you hot and slow, while a hand moved to your waist and clenched in the material of your dress. He slipped a heavy thigh between both of yours. The pressure was welcome, but you wanted friction.

You bunched up the skirt of your dress and aimed to slip it off, but Dean stopped your hands.

“That’s my job,” he teased.

“Then how about you get to it?” you countered with a smile. He rose a brow at you.

“A bit bossy, but I can dig that,” he smirked.

His kisses dropped against your neck, down your exposed neckline, and he peeled down the straps of your dress one by one. Your breathing became more labored as he touched you, squeezing a breast over the bra as he exposed more inches of your body.

Your fingers carded through his hair on a sigh as he made his way further down. Though he finally got impatient enough to work your dress off all the way, followed by his jeans and your bra and matching lacey panties. He lavished attention what felt like all over your body.

Really, he was just strategic. He stopped in places where you lost breath, moaning his name. Like the spot just under your ear, where he sucked hard enough to make you see stars. Or over your breasts, taking a pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling with his tongue like he had the cake batter off your fingers.

His hands mapped out the soft planes and curves of your body for the first time, sometimes smooth and grazing, sometimes adding pressure that made warmth continue to pool between your legs.

He went further still, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing nipping kisses along the inside. All the while his mouth drew closer to the place you wanted him the most. Even though you still raised up on your elbow and gave him a questioning look.

“Really? You want to…” Your voice came out in a whisper.

Dean looked up at you with puzzled brows. “Why not?”

You shook your head, your eyes widening marginally.

“No reason, I guess. I, um…I’ve never had someone do this for me first.” And certainly not on the first time having sex.

Dean frowned.

“Really?” he asked. “A guy’s never gone down on you first?”

You blushed. “Well, maybe with his fingers, but not…”

He shook his head and let out a breath. You felt it between your thighs, and your core clenched in anticipation.

“Okay, baby. I gotcha,” he said. He guided you back down with a gentle hand. “Just lie back and relax.”

You smiled, despite your lingering blush, and you stroked the hand that rested above your stomach. That hand soon slid down as he once again kissed and licked down your thighs. They quivered a bit as his fingers slipped between your folds.

“So fucking wet for me already,” he said in approval. You peered down at him, unable to help a smile.

“You want a medal?” you quipped.

Dean’s brows rose.

“Oh, I’m about to earn it.” His eyes found yours. “You know what my real favorite pie flavor is?”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

A familiar smirk crossed his lips. “Cherry.”

Before your choked surprise could be broken with a laugh, he began.

And he wasn’t lying, about any of it. The pads of his fingers began toying with your clit, and that alone had your breath hitching and your hips squirming.

He held you down with one hand on your lower belly while his tongue joined his fingers, seeking your heat and finding the hot channel where you craved to be filled. You gasped.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. Once his warm tongue began rolling inside you, you almost couldn’t breathe.

He worked you over with fingers, lips and tongue until you were arching off the bed, fists clenched in his hair and in the sheets, releasing broken gasps of his name. He didn’t relent until your thighs stopped shaking around his head. Your knees were damn near pinning him there.

He eventually withdrew, wiping his mouth and nose with the back of his hand. He moved smoothly back up your body and heeded the pull of your hands on his arms, and then his face. You tugged him down for a sloppy kiss.

“How’s that for a first?” he asked breathlessly. His tone was teasing, but he was half-serious you thought, by the look in his eyes.

You were honest, without a hint of a joke. “Fucking incredible. Just like you.”

Dean wouldn’t admit it then, but what you said warmed him. He looked down on you with a smile.

Your hands caressed his face, down his neck and firm chest, and further still to caress his straining length over his boxer briefs. Dean let out a halting moan at your gentle touch.

“What if I want to return the favor?” you asked with a smile. He made a sound deep in his throat when you cupped him more firmly, letting your thumb brush over the head.

Well hello, you thought. He was thick, and a bit longer than your first thought. Your already sensitive core tightened at the thought.

Meanwhile, Dean squeezed your arm. His hot gaze bore into yours.

“Very, very tempting.” His thumb brushed your lower lip. “I’ve no doubt you’ve got some talents yourself.”

You smiled under the pad of his thumb. Part of you was contemplating some retribution, sucking it into your mouth the way he’d done to your fingers in the kitchen.

“But I’m thinkin’ I want to skip to the part where I have you coming apart all over again,” said Dean. His head bowed near your ear, though his lips skimmed the side of your face. “This time, from the inside.”

His voice was deep and threaded with grit. You bit your lip on a giddy laugh. You managed to nod, sweeping your shaky fingers through his hair.

“Okay, next time then,” you promised and gave him a sensuous kiss. “But first, just want to make sure you’re ready for me…”

You leaned down to slide his underwear for him, down to his knees. He helped you the rest of the way, kicking them off his legs. When he came back, you were sitting up.

You soothed warm hands along his thighs and took his cock into your hands. Dean dropped his forehead onto your shoulder with a grunt, again squeezing your arms as you touched him properly for the first time.

Dean had a habit of impressing you, and this was no different. You liked the feel of him in your hands, warm and thick and heavy.

After licking your hand to coat it with some wetness, you experimented for a moment in how you stroked him, trying to get a feel for what he liked just as he had for you. He gasped and jolted on one particular twist, and he finally stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“Okay, baby. Keep that up and we’re not gonna get much farther for a while,” he said coarsely.

It was satisfying to know you’d made him feel even a fraction of how he’d made you feel.

You pressed a purposeful kiss into his neck. “I told you, next time I’ll take care of you for real.”

He chuckled, cupping the side of your face.

“Oh, you’re about to. Believe me,” he said.

He kissed you long and deep, until you were once again breathless. The two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed like you had all the time in the world. And yet, you wanted him more than ever.

“I’m on birth control,” you told him between more fervent kisses, hands drifting, feeling skin to warm, dewy skin, breaths mingling.

“And I’m clean,” he said. You nodded, hesitating…

“It’s our first time,” you said. “Condom, just to be safe.”

He hesitated only a beat before he nodded back, agreeing to your request. “Yes, ma’am.”

He broke from you briefly. He turned and dug into his nightstand while your nails drew light patterns down his back. It was distracting in the best of ways. A trill of excitement had his hands moving quickly, ripping the foil packet open and fitting himself with the condom.

When he was ready for you, he turned and hooked an arm around your waist. You twined your arms around his neck, and once again, you let him lay you down. His kiss came first, and then his fingers between your legs, past your folds to stroke you back to life.

You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his hips. Though he surprised you again by hooking your legs over his shoulders. Your brows raised at him, and he shot you a wink.

“Trust me, you’ll like it this way,” he said.

You did trust him. Your hands caressed down his neck, down his chest, and you subtly urged him with your heels on his back, encouraging him where you both knew he needed to be.

And with one slow push, his cock was stretching your inner walls with slow, delicious friction. You both groaned at the feeling. His forehead pressed against yours. His hand trembled slightly, brushing your hair away from your face. And he began moving inside you in steady strokes.

Dean was putting his all into this tonight. He thought your promises to take care of him next time were as endearing as they were sexy as hell. Even now, you were touching him wherever you could reach, occasionally moaning his name in his ear, encouraging him with every thrust inside you.

Fuck, he was right, you thought. He was reaching places deep inside you, filling you to the very brim. And you were already on the edge of pleasure, brows furrowed, biting your lower lip so hard that your teeth nearly broke the skin…

Your fingers slipped down between you to further part your folds and rub your already sensitive clit. Dean caught the hint and moved your hand to do it himself, as in time with his thrusts as he could. Finally, you unraveled for the second time that night. Your gasp gave way to a moan.

Your tightening walls gripped him like a vice. His release hit him with the same force, choking a near shout out of him. His hand was a bit too tight in your hair, he realized, so he forced himself to ease up.

He petted over your hair instead as he came down with ragged breaths. After he released your shaky legs back to the bed, he leaned mostly on his elbow and thigh instead of sinking all his weight onto you.

You appreciated that. You soothed up and down his back while you panted for breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say.

Dean’s chuckle took him by surprise too.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He turned his head to press a sloppy kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

Just then, a distant-sounding jingle reached your ears. It was familiar…and you remembered it was the alarm on your phone, which was probably in the kitchen.

“Oh shit,” you gasped. “The cake’s still in the oven.”

He blinked. “Well, I don’t smell burning, so we’re good.”

“Dean! You’re a firefighter, remember?” you laughed, but you still tapped his shoulder so he’d roll over. Reluctantly he did, but he still took you with him, even after he’d slid out of you.

You yelped and clung to his shoulders to balance yourself. “I gotta get the cake!”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled into your neck. He also liked the way your breasts were pressed against his chest.

“It’s going to be so…damn…burnt!” You punctuated each of those syllables with a playful smack on his arm, until he finally released you with a lazy smirk.

You shook your head and huffed in amusement. Sliding out of bed, you searched around your dress. The first thing you found was his discarded undershirt. You slipped it on real quick and cautiously padded out of Dean’s room. You didn’t know if Sam was back from work, but this was not how you wanted to meet him.

The halls were quiet, so you didn’t think he was home yet. You managed to get to the kitchen unscathed, where you turned off your timer and grabbed some oven mitts. You opened the oven and pulled out the cake, setting it down on the counter. Your eyes narrowed at the almost perfect dome on top.

“What’s the verdict, Chef Ramsay?”

Dean leaned in the doorway, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. The view was delectable, but you sighed and gestured at the cake with a shake of your head.

“It’s burnt.”

“What? No, it’s not,” he refuted. He joined your side and stared down at the top of the cake, which was half browned. “Looks all right to me.”

“Trust me, it’s going to be dry,” you said, “even with the lemon drizzle on it.”

It was the perfectionist in you that smarted with disappointment. You didn’t want to serve anyone something you weren’t proud of, especially Dean. But he just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “I’m still gonna eat the crap out of it.”

You glanced at him, unable to help a small smile. He grinned back.

“Anyway, I think it was worth it. Don’t you?” Dean said. He pulled you in towards him by your waist, and you went willingly, resting your hands against his bare chest. You let your nails drag against his skin a little as you contemplated.

You looked up at him with a grin of your own.

“Yeah. Definitely worth it.”

Dean later sat with you again at the table, this time with your chairs closer together as you each ate large slices of delicious cake (even if it was a bit dry). Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the copious number of dishes still left in the sink and the flour and batter sprinkled across the counter.

He knew Sam was going to have a conniption when he got home (in the morning at this rate). He was probably crashing at Eileen’s apartment tonight.

Good, Dean thought. That meant he’d have the place all to himself, with you.

“You know, I just realized something,” he said.

You knew that look in his eyes. He was about to say something smartass.

“What’s that?” you asked. He reached out and thumbed at your chin.

“I just got my dessert twice in one sitting,” he remarked. “That’s pretty damn good, if you ask me.”

You snorted in laughter. You also blushed, but you were unable to stop smiling either.

You set down your fork and eased back from the table. Your hand on Dean’s shoulder encouraged him to do the same, so you could sit across his lap. He welcomed you with a warm hand on your bare thigh. Already it was creeping under the shirt you borrowed.

You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand and gave him a mischievous smile.

“Think you could handle another serving?”

AN: 🫣 Was it everything you wanted it to be? lol I love me some baking innuendo. What did you like more: eating the cherry pie or making the lemon drizzle? 😏❤️‍🔥

In Part 8, Dean's past comes a knockin'...

Next Time:

While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.

You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps of your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.

From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘

Keep Reading: PART 8

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #smoke eater feedback

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bluebird990 · 2 years ago

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Wolf Keum character analysis!! And some speculation on why Wolf hates Sam so much.

WARNING: This a long discussion and might end up being an utter waste of ur time so read at your own risk!!!😅

So personally Wolf is the character whose backstory I really look forward to seeing the most right now.

Here's some speculation based off of the things we do know about him.

Some stuff I noticed while re-reading:

1) Wolf hates when people play tricks while fighting. -This can be seen when Wolf is fighting gray, he keeps repeating how much Gray's tricks piss him off.

-The second time is when Donald beats him up. He says something like "I'm done with you and Jared playing your little tricks".

2) The type of people that Wolf hates the most are the ones that tremble in fear in front of a stronger enemy (Sam and Gray in the beginning of their fight).

So this could be the reason why Wolf hates Sam so much. Now this is me just shooting in the dark and assuming that Sam is the kind of person who would act all tough in front of people who are weaker than him but when he has to face someone stronger, he starts trembling in fear (no hate to Sam's character).

In Wolf vs Gray, Wolf also states that Gray is pissing him off a lot and that he is the kind of person that wolf hates the most.

In chapter 84 Wolf says this while seeing Gray (have a panic attack):

"Now that I think about it, you're pissing me off. Did you always get away with it like this? By trembling in fear with that pretty face of yours? Is that what you're trying to pull off right now?" Now while Wolf is saying the next line, a panel of Sam is shown ....."But sorry, I don't fall for that shit. In fact, I DESPISE bastards who do that."

Conclusion:

I think that wolf (due to some incident that happened in his past) hates people who act all tough and great infront of weaker people and then they freeze when facing a stronger opponent.

Because from Wolf's perspective this white mamba was a guy who beat some small fries and became famous and when he had to face someone strong (like himself) he froze and tried to get out of the situation by trembling in fear (something similar might have happened with Sam). Little did he (wolf) know that Gray was actually afraid of rooftops and not him.

After his fight with Gray, the only comments he ever makes about Gray are, "What a funny bastard". So I'm assuming that wolf has just a tiny smudge of respect for Gray after that fight.

Wolf also doesn't back out of a fight against a stronger opponent (donald). Like he knows he can't win against Donald but he would still atleast TRY, unlike Sam??

Or maybe Wolf sees his past self in Sam??? I don't know!! It's a possibility??

But then there's also the question of why does wolf hate specifically Sam so much and not anyone else because surely many people freeze in front of stronger opponents?? So again taking a shot in the dark I would say that maybe Sam bullied someone who was maybe kind of close(?) with wolf?? I don't really know about this part so let me know what you think.

So I have a very far fetched theory on what might have happened for wolf to hate people like Sam so much but I'm not gonna share it cuz it's, well, too far fetched.

So yeah tell me what you think about this? Do you think there's some stuff in here that might not align within Wolf or Sam's character??

Edit:-

There could be two ways his story could be (1) they were frnds and Sam acted all cool and stuff but then when Wolf needed help he pussied out. (2) they weren't friends and just didn't care about each other's existence but then maybe Sam bullied someone who Wolf kind of cared about? Something like Gray's backstory but then it would be repetitive. So the other way it could go is that maybe Sam bullied Wolf when Wolf just didn't care about all this shit and one day he just snapped and became the bully he is today?? And then just got addicted to fighting eventually. Because when Eugene talked about him he said, "Wolf keum. A dark horse that made a sudden debut this year and took over Ganghak" this implies that he didn't really fight many people before that??

#wolf keum #Sam lee #gray yeon #grape #weak hero #speculation #donald na

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crqstalite · 3 years ago

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Happy Year In Review 2021!!

I've certainly lived in interesting times and here's my eventual result of that. (Can't believe it's already been a year -- 2020)

WORD COUNT:

This year I wrote a total of 127,820 words (92,789 published, 35,031 unpublished). Honestly I'm a little disappointed, I thought I did more than that. Given, it's 2021, the year of crises left and right, but...yeesh. That's less than I did back in 2019. In like, two or three months.

Most of the year was out of my control though, and I'm still standing. I count it as a win.

The Breakdown:

My Mass Effect works took up about 3/4s of the actual word count, at 112,020 words written (and 22,934 unpublished, along with most of what I haven't released for Redamancy yet). My goal this year was to finish Redamancy but it had other ideas, so I'm maybe halfway through actually finishing it? That could be another year.

My Arcane works (what a surprise), are all still unpublished with posting dates being sometime in early 2021. However, they're 12,097 words by themselves so far, so it's okay. I didn't expect to end up writing for League anytime soon, but here we are.

My singular Dragon Age work this year was Bones, which was 1,879 words. Not surprised I didn't have more, it's Dragon Age. That and I lost all of the games when my account was hacked earlier in the year. Not a lot of motivation to write for this fandom.

My singular Mind Blind work this year was "Do It For Them", which was 1,824 words. It's been a while since I've really interacted with the IF fandom, so that's pretty unsurprising.

New Things I Tried:

Not much I don't think? Redamancy has actually been beta'd, every single chapter currently published has had a second pair of eyes over it (which is such a big help, you'd never notice how many misspellings you miss yourself), but beyond that I didn't really have the time or mental energy to do much else. EXCEPT for starting to write for Arcane. Never thought I'd do anything relating to League.

(God I hate the culture around League so much.)

Favorite Thing I Wrote This Year:

Probably Letters Home? Not super sure why but it is one of the few times I've genuinely liked something I wrote mainly in a non-OC's perspective. It's a working point for Joker and Citlali, which are two characters I hesitate to write together for whatever reason.

(That and it's criminal how Tiptree and Joker's feelings related to it are just swept under the rug -- it's criminal!)

Favorite Fic I Read This Year:

@ljandersen's Sideways. Easily one of my favorites (even if I'm still behind a handful of chapters -- and mentioned it last year), just for the characterization alone. I absolutely love how their Kaidan(s) and Shepard(s) interact with each other, and the little details that turn out to be bigger than anyone would've guessed. I absolutely adore the ever-growing future that they've weaved into the story, as well as how they expanded the Mass Effect universe into something all their own. I'm really looking forward to seeing where the rest of the story goes.

@shockdowndefiance's A Momentary Lapse In Judgement. Though I really loved just about every work in their library (Allison Shepard my beloved) this one really stuck with me because it really examined the coup for what it was logically and what Bioware couldn't quite do, especially for a Kaidanmancing Shepard. Allison's universe extends Mass Effect something emotionally compelling, and this fic is probably one of the best examples of that. I still absolutely love how they resolved it, as well as how Allison's character really shines through here, both as Commander Shepard as well as -- well, a regular human being. It's painful at times, but also terribly comforting.

@swaps55's Sonata. I'm such a sucker for in-between moment Mass Effect stories, especially Shenko centered ones. Sam Shepard is such a compelling character, and his relationship with Kaidan is certainly one that makes you so very mushy on the inside. Swaps' writing style is something that'll suck you in and never quite let you go, and their attention to detail is something to be admired. (Which is why I was up until the middle of the night finishing it -- definitely worth the read!)

& (last but definitely not least)

@lyrishadow's Between Times. I still read it time to time just because it makes me happy and amuses me greatly. It was a birthday gift from them to me and it still makes me really happy. I really love how they weaved both of our Shepards together to write something so nice, and how they took the time out of their life to do it.

Writing Goals For 2022

Be less on myself about writing. I was genuinely feeling so guilty and completely paralyzed out of having any fun the entire months of October, November and December just because I hadn't gotten any substantial writing done. Which shouldn't be how I feel, writing is a hobby of mine. Just because I was more likely to reach for my stylus or even one of my games than I was my bookmark for my longfic doesn't mean I'm a failure, even if I would've liked to see more progress. I mean, hell I'm a high school student who's about to graduate in a couple months -- you'd think I'd be able to afford myself the same grace I give my peers.

(It's the validation. I live off of it. I shouldn't, but I do.)

Word Of Thanks

Thanking the lovely Lock + Key writers because you guys are lovely people, (@delinquest , @glyndwrwrites , @lnewmanwrites , @tayareum , @thesupremepuff + @colonelpknight [can't tag you]) thank you for going on such a wild ride with me this year, its been so freaking fun working with you all!

The lovely @mallaidhsomo for their contributions to Redamancy and all of the useful advice they've provided me with. Along with the rest of the Bioware Fanfiction server, I might not interact much but its a very comforting place to be. <3

@that-wasnt-so-bad + @kaidans-alenkos + @mariaalenkoshepard + @actualanxiousswampwitch + @oakstar519 for being the people I always love seeing in my notifs and inbox, and the people who always have the best headcanons for the canon characters and their own.

@sheyshen + @greencrusader13 + @anchanted-one + @naaklasolus for always being there to listen to my rambly nonsense in our development channel. And responding with your own OCs because I love them very much.

@asianshep + @tali-zorahs + @metzlishepard + @dickeybbqpit + the rest of the A.G.U discord because the lot of you have been so kind to me since I popped in just for fun a while ago. Y'all are fun, and are the absolute sweetest <3 (I will track down the rest of your tumblrs eventually).

Tentatively go forth and prosper into 2022!

#2021 wrap up #year in review #long post

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 2 years ago

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Thanks for linking the reddit post here! GRRM's writing process is truly fascinating, and one day I'd love to go to the Texas A&M library to have a look through the manuscripts. (Actually, one day I'm sure there will be a book analyzing ASOIAF's creation, like Tolkien's History of Middle Earth, though no idea who'd be putting it together.)

Anyway, though that prologue excerpt might make people sigh at its lost potential -- I'd say it's a good thing that Rosey didn't get to be the POV for the AFFC prologue? Because if she had, she'd've died like all prologue POVs do, and talk about your lost potential then.

As it is now, Rosey still exists as a character in the Oldtown plot, and she's alive (unlike Pate... well, that is, unlike the real Pate and not the dude going around with his name and face), and she might still wish to be a maester, and she might still have a crush on Alleras... Maybe we'll see some of that in Sam's upcoming TWOW chapters? I can barely wait, tbh.

someone found several different wip drafts of the affc prologue in grrm's collection at the cushing library and in one of them rosey is the POV and she's in love with alleras and wants to be a maester too im going insane we could have had it all????????

#grrm #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #a feast for crows #rosey #alleras #sarella sand #the quill and tankard #oldtown #asoiaf speculation #i'm looking forward to sam's chapters for so very many reasons

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tthael · 4 years ago

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I really admire so many things about your writing - the introspection and deep meaning, the realistic and sensitive way that you handle topics. Do you have any recs for fav media/books/tv shows/fanfics ? I guess I'm curious if there are any you think might have similar qualities/themes?

This is a tough one because basically everything I consume gets picked apart and reused in some way. However, I’ll give it a shot:

The Book Thief and I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak. There’s quite a lot I like about Zusak’s use of language and have since 2007 when I read The Book Thief for the first time, and there’s something very cinematic and magical about I Am the Messenger (particularly in the chapter with the young track runner).

The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell. He’s most commonly known for Cloud Atlas, but he has an ongoing theme of vampires and cannibalism reappearing in his work (I just read Slade House for the first time while I was in quarantine) and there’s something deeply satisfying about the way that all of the disparate pieces come to fruition at the climax of The Bone Clocks. Not a perfect book, but deeply satisfying.

The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. Again, she’s most commonly known for The Poisonwood Bible, but I liked that well enough to read The Lacuna in 2013, and I completely hated it for the first half of the book until finally something clicked in my brain and I activated the literary critic within, who doesn’t care so much about whether they enjoy something and more cares about how well something is done. The description of US American rationing during World War II really got me onto the novel’s side, if that makes sense; and I do love a good family epic, and while this only focuses on one protagonist instead of generations of them, it’s interesting in a similar way to The Bone Clocks where you see everything start to snowball together.

Literally anything by Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher. I particularly recommend The Raven and The Reindeer, which I read shortly after being diagnosed with my chronic illness and really helped me to understand the irrelevance of shame. There’s something very satisfying about saying “a reindeer doesn’t care if it smells bad, so I’m going to lean into that particular apathy and not allow a bully to take me down over it.” Something comforting about taking shelter in the animal and in survival, when you and your body are in one place and working on the same side, and it’s your brain that’s ready to give up first but your body will keep dragging you through because that’s what it does. Certain lines in Indelicate were inspired by her adaptation of Tam Lin in Jackalope Wives and other Stories (https://www.amazon.com/Jackalope-Wives-Other-Stories-Kingfisher-ebook/dp/B071946RLN). Lots of her short stories are available at this link for free: http://www.redwombatstudio.com/portfolio/writing/short-stories/

TV’s a little harder to unpack, since I don’t always think in terms of visual media, I tend to default to words first. Recently I’ve been enjoying New Amsterdam on NBC--it’s nice to see the radical socialist doctor doing his damnedest to secure the right thing--and Call the Midwife--similar reasons. There’s a lot about meeting someone where they are in both shows that I appreciate.

There’s also a lot of music that inspires my writing so I’ll have to dedicate a post specifically to that in my methods and materials.

Fanfic, though! Lots of my favorites, lots of genres. Here we go:

we are all stardust by synergenic (Losseflame) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682496) Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, pairing Finn/Poe Dameron. Sexually explicit, but also leans a lot into physicality. You can probably see the influence on the very first chapter of Indelicate when Eddie’s waking up in pain and Richie’s at his bedside. It’s very much inspired by a similar sickbed scene here.

If They Haven’t Learned Your Name by silentwalrus (https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329503) Captain America/Marvel Cinematic Universe Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes. The holy grail of Steve/Bucky fanfiction. If you want independent character exploration, this is the place to go. Natasha shaving her head? Yes. Sam pleading with Steve to keep his shit together while thirty Koren grandmothers assume they are American celebrities? Yes. Bucky defiantly hunting down his sense of self while bingeing romance novels in a space ship? Yes. Pay particular attention to the Sam chapters, because they’re a beautiful way of defining Steve’s characterization from an outside perspective, and I’m trying to do the same with Eddie looking at Richie in Indelicate.

An Ever-Fixed Mark by AMarguerite (https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523001) Pride & Prejudice (Jane Austen) Elizabeth Bennet/Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy. Soulmark AU. This is one of my longtime favorite fanfictions and what it taught me was cause and effect. The characters move the plot forward based on their assumptions and decisions. Definitely very helpful when I was writing TTHAEL by the seat of my pants.

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233709) Supernatural Dean Winchester/Castiel. Sexually explicit. A lot of the summary I can give here is spoilers, but if you read this one through, you’ll be able to see the inspiration for the “Can you tell me where I can get another Eddie Kaspbrak?” scene in Indelicate.

Work of All Saints by antistar_e (kaikamahine) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006644) Coco (2017) Imelda Rivera/Héctor Rivera/Ernesto de la Cruz. Sexually mature. Oh my GOD this is a beautiful coming-of-age story set in turn-of-the-century Oaxaca, this is the best complete expansion of canon that I’ve ever seen; the author takes the pieces and runs with them and it is WONDERFUL.

Lycanthropic Studies by Eiiri (https://archiveofourown.org/series/575263) Harry Potter, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black canon-divergence AU. I very much enjoy the meditation on lycanthropy as a chronic illness and I sometimes reread this for comfort. Particularly early on Remus has a rant about how he’s sick and he’s always sick and his life doesn’t stop for it, despite holidays and birthdays he still has to deal with the consequences of his illness and take the devastating medication, and there’s a lot about that that speaks to me. I haven’t kept up with the series for some time, though.

Careful Truths by SassySnowperson (https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111966) Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, Bodhi Rook/Luke Skywalker canon-divergence AU. Sexually explicit. Honestly identity p!rn fics are a good inspiration for that third-person limited perspective I’ve been working on in Indelicate. Also I love love LOVE Bodhi Rook. It’s fun watching him run in circles trying to conceal his identity from Luke while completely oblivious to Luke doing exactly the same thing.

Stammtisch by chaya (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060152) Critical Role: Season 2, Caleb Widogast/Mollymauk Tealeaf, AU. Sexually explicit. Long before Caleb actually leveled up enough to cast Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion, chaya speculated about what kind of spaces he might create for each of his friends. I think it’s a very good resource for really condensing characterization down into lots of images and concepts and deciding what other characters know about them. The idea of making space for someone else is something that I lean into a lot when I write Ben, who’s the kind of man who will set himself on fire to keep those he loves warm, and even though Critical Role has far more material than even IT for determining characterization, and even though this particular moment has already occurred in canon--it’s just a wonderful homey story, and has the kind of found family vibes I like for the Losers as well.

I know that’s a lot to unpack there, but all of those fics are very good and I recommend reading any assortment that appeals to you. (Work of All Saints in particular you don’t have to be familiar with the source material beyond the basic premise; it stands on its own.) Thank you for asking, and thank you for reading!

#nocturnalpinkcat #my fic #indelicate #now what i'm gonna say may sound indelicate #nwigsmsi #things that happen after eddie lives #tthael #fic recs #book recs

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marveloushiddleston · 4 years ago

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The Monster Within

English German

Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Plot: After the last fight against Thanos, the task of the remaining Avengers was done. And a new team of Avengers must now protect the Earth from a new unknown force. Together with SWORD, Wanda, Vision, Doctor Strange, Carol, Bucky, Sam and Loki, who must first prove himself on Midgard as a team and face unknown enemies.

Chapter 2

Loki unexpectedly appears behind the Black Order and seems cheerful, "If I could interject ... if you are going to Earth, you may need a guide. I have a little experience in that terrain."

"If you mean mistake experience.", Thanos explains unimpressed.

"I consider experience to be experience. Almighty Thanos, I ... Loki ... Prince of Asgard ...", Loki looks meaningfully at Thor, "Odinson ... the rightful King of Jotunheim ... God of Mischief ... do hereby swear my undying fidelity."

Thor blinks in confusion and notices a dagger appear in Loki's hand. Loki readies himself, thrusts upward with lightning speed, and attempts to stab Thanos, but is frozen by the power of the Space Stone before the dagger could strike Thanos.

"Undying? You should choose your words more carefully.", Thanos twists the dagger out of Loki's hand with his right hand, then grabs Loki's neck with his glove and lifts him to eye level. Loki struggles and kicks as his throat is compressed. Thanos makes eye contact with Thor before increasing his force on Loki's neck.

Finally Loki gives up the fight against Thanos, "You will ... never ... be a god." Thanos broke Loki's neck and killing him.

"NO!" screams Thor in a muffled voice.

Thanos walks over to Thor and drops Loki's lifeless body in front of Thor.

"No resurrection this time.", Thanos raises his glove, sends purple force fire through the remains of the spaceship and uses the space stone to teleport away with the Black Order.

"No ... Loki ...", Thor is released from his bonds. He crawls to Loki's body and rests his head on Loki's chest, shedding tears for all he has lost. The ship explodes along with Loki and Thor....

Loki wakes up startled and sits up in bed in one swift movement. The haze of sleep is still heavy on him. He rubbed the sleep from his face. The sky was turning yellow-gold, slowly chasing away the dark night as Loki looked to his window. He realized it was still very early in the morning. After returning from the dead, like so many millions in the universe, nightmares had become commonplace for Loki. He wondered if the people who had shared his fate of returning from the dead shared the same torment. But perhaps it was just his punishment, the price only he had to pay to be alive. After a while Loki managed to push aside the tormenting thoughts that occupied him and pulled aside the velvet green bedspread. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold black floor, and if he weren't an ice giant, the cold would bother him. Loki let his gaze wander around his room. It may be that this room did not remotely resemble his chambers in Asgard, but even Loki had to admit that living in Avengers Tower was not as bad as he had first feared. Loki turned his gaze down to his left hand and closed his eyes for a moment. As he let the semblance of his appearance, imposed on him by Odin as a newborn, fade, he took a deep breath. Loki, after a moment's hesitation, opened his eyes and studied his blue hand closely, markings running along his hand. He got up from his bed and walked across the room to the dark wooden mirror that stood in the right corner in his room next to the door. His eye color was ruby red instead of the usual green of his eyes and blue markings ran along his face. Markings that showed his origin. The blue markings on his blue skin ran across his neck, his arms, and all over his chest. Loki cautiously walked closer to the mirror. He raised his hand up to the mirror and pressed his flat palm against it. The mirror began to freeze in a few seconds and when it was completely covered with ice, he removed his hand from the mirror surface. Loki waited until the mirror was completely thawed before hiding his ice giant form, his true appearance, again. With a quick flick of his wrist, he made a dark green short-sleeved T-shirt appear over his muscular torso. Loki knew that he would probably not find any kind of peaceful sleep after the nightmare. Training would not hurt him and perhaps will help him against the thoughts that occupied his mind. He remembered that during the tour of the Tower with Thor, he had noticed an internal gym.

Loki snaps his fingers as he enters the studio, thereby turning on the lights with his seidr. He looks around the studio at the various sports equipment. Loki spots a punching bag hanging in the corner and walked across the studio to it. He punched the punching bag, first one punch, then harder, faster, and more often, as if he were repressing memories by doing so. Loki's punches get harder. With one powerful punch, he hits the punching bag and flings it from its moorings across the gym floor.

"How do you feel about fighting with something alive.", Loki turns around and saw Bucky standing behind him in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Why are you up so early?", Loki asks as he tries to catch his breath.

"I think the reason that keeps us both from sleeping is one and the same."

"Are you sure you can keep up with me?" asks Loki, smiling.

"With you? All the time."

🐍

Bucky struck unexpectedly as Loki caught Bucky's clenched fist. Bucky and Loki continue to fight. Loki grabs Bucky's right arm and tucks it behind him.

"Who's winning?" asks Sam as he sits down next to Stephan on the bench. Wanda offered him some of the popcorn from the bowl. Sam ate some of the popcorn and watched the fight intently.

"I'll bet on Bucky," Stephan says.

Loki pushes Bucky back. The two continue to fight. Loki punches Bucky in the face, causing him to fall backward. Bucky jumped up before sweeping his leg under Loki's legs, causing Loki to lose his balance. Bucky tried to kick Loki, who was on the ground, but he rolled out from under him and got up behind Bucky in a quick leap. Loki punched him in the back, sending him stumbling forward.

"I'm Team Loki." said Wanda, continuing to eat popcorn.

"Alright, I'm on Loki's team too.", Sam explains, leaning back as he watches the fight.

"Vis?" asks Wanda, the hitherto silent Vision.

"Although I don't really participate in this sort of thing, I have to disagree with you, Wanda. Bucky clearly seems to have the advantage," Vision states matter-of-factly. Bucky lands a kick to Loki's side. Punches went back and forth between the two.

"What does the losing team have to do?" asks Stephen, crossing his arms in front of his chest."

"Take over the cleaning schedule for two weeks," Wanda says without taking her eyes off the fight.

"Sounds fair to me. Deal.", Stephan agrees. Bucky's foot connects with Loki's face, nearly dropping him to the floor. Loki's hands twisted Barnes' wrists and arms, keeping him from moving for a moment. With a kick to the back, Bucky gets Loki to loosen his grip and is able to break free.

"Since when they do that?" asked Carol, confused, as she joined them in the gym. Sam looked at his watch.

"About an hour and a half now."

"And neither of you are intervening? ", Danvers asked.

"Nope." said Sam, Wanda and Stephen in unison, only Vision doesn't answer as he continues to watch the fight intently. Bucky tries to hit Loki's head with his metal arm, but Loki ducks and kicks Barnes in the right side, this made him stagger back a little. Unexpectedly, an orange protonblast hit the two during their fight, knocking them off their feet and sending Loki and Bucky backwards across the studio onto their backs. Loki strained to lift his head to see what happened and looked in the direction from where the protonblast was shot. Carol smiled triumphantly at the two as her fists returned to normal.

"Now if you're done with your...little comparison. We have a mission.", Danvers explained. She took some of popcorn from Wanda before walking out of the room.

"So no team is the winner." declared Sam, disappointed. He stood up and walked behind Carol.

"According to my calculations, we'll have plenty of that to watch," Vision explained matter-of-factly. As Vision left the room with Wanda and Stephan. Loki and Bucky, meanwhile, still didn't get up from the floor.

A/N: My tag list is open, post in the comments if you want in it. And please also write me in the comments what you think of the chapter!

Tag-List: @silvers-hero-vault

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 4 years ago

Text

Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.

Chapter 18

Thor, Steve, and Bruce joined the rest of us on the couches. Steve sat on the other side of me squishing me between him and Sam. Thor laid his heavy-looking hammer on the table instantly sparking chatter among the group.

"It's a trick!" Clint shouted over everyone else.

Thor laughed as he shook his head.

"No, no, it's much more than that." The god said with an amused smile.

"Who shall ever be, he, worthy shall haveth the power." Clint said in a mocking accented voice.

I had to laugh at that.

"Whatever man, it's a trick," Clint said dismissively.

Thor laughed again.

"Please be my guest." Thor said with a smile as he gestured to the hammer.

"Really?" Clint asked as he stopped twirling the drum stick in his hand.

"Yea" Thor nodded.

"Oh, this is going to be beautiful." Rhodey chuckled.

"Clint, you've had a tough week. We won't hold it against you if you can't get it up." Tony teased.

The group laughed as Clint stopped in front of the hammer.

"You know I've seen this before." Clint said as he wrapped his hands around the handle.

He started to pull but the hammer didn't budge. His face started to turn red from the strain. He let go then chuckled as he shook his head.

"I still don't know how you do it." Clint laughed as he looked at the hammer curiously.

"Smell the silent judgment." Tony teased.

I leaned my head on Sam's shoulder as I watched the group of superheroes.

"Please, Stark, by all means." Clint said gesturing to the hammer then going back to his seat.

"Never one to shrink from an honest challenge. It's physics. So what, if I lift it I then rule Asgard?" Tony questioned as he stepped over to the table.

"Yes, of course" Thor nodded.

"I will be reinstating prima nocta.” Tony said nonchalantly as he pulled at the hammer.

He let go with a grunt then stared at the object for a moment.

“I’ll be right back.” He said holding a finger up.

Maybe a minute passed when Tony came speed walking back into the room. One of his hands was now covered in a metal glove from his suit. He grabbed the hilt once more then tugged. Before I knew it both Tony and his friend Rhodey each had a gloved hand pulling at the hammer together. The group around me was laughing and cheering them on.

“Are you even pulling?” Rhodey asked Tony harshly.

“Are you on my team?” Tony asked his friend.

“Just represent! Pull!” Rhodey ordered.

“Alright, let’s go” Tony said as the two of them tried pulling the hammer together.

Once more the thing didn’t even budge. I laughed with everyone else.

“Now this is some good entertainment.” I chuckled softly to Sam.

He laughed then nodded in agreement. Next up to try for the hammer was Bruce Banner. He grabbed the hilt tugging on it as the others did. He pulled off it then pretended, very badly, to turn into the hulk. Steve stood up then stepped over to the hammer. He looked it over for a moment then wrapped his hands around it. Not even super soldier Captain America could move the thing. Steve chuckled as he stepped back from it.

“Nat?” Steve asked gesturing to the hammer.

“Oh no, that’s not a question I need answered.” Nat laughed and shook her head.

“All difference to the man who wouldn’t be king but it’s rigged.” Tony stated.

“You bet your ass.” Clint nodded.

“Steve, he said a bad language word.” Hill said pointing at Clint.

I laughed as Steve sighed.

“Did you tell everyone about that?” Steve asked Tony.

Tony wasn’t paying him any mind. He was staring at the hammer looking completely lost in thought.

“The handle’s imprinted, right? Like a security code. Who so ever is carrying Thor’s finger print is, I think, the literal translation.” Tony said keeping his eyes on the hammer.

It must really bug him not being able to figure this out.

“Yea, it’s uh, a very very interesting theory. I have a simpler one. You’re all not worthy.” Thor shrugged and laughed.

“I think we are going to head out.” I told Steve quietly.

Steve nodded then hugged me tightly. He kissed the top of my head then turned to give Sam a bro hug.

“I’ll be in touch soon.” Steve said with a nod.

Sam and I got back to his apartment in record time. We were both exhausted from our hunt in Mexico. It was nice to meet everyone tonight and have a bit of fun but really all I wanted to do was sleep. I cuddle under the blankets wrapping myself around Sam. He was always so warm.

A few days later I had woken up to a cold and empty bed. Sam was no where in the apartment. Where the hell did he go?

As I waited for everything I needed to be sent to me I started to pack a bag. Once I was done and finally dressed I pulled up my email to find the file Steve had sent me. I pulled on my leather jacket as I opened the file. This was infuriating. Steve would rather me hunt down these ridiculous and always cold leads than help him with whatever SOS he has going on. I'm a super soldier. I could help him better where ever he is. I hugged shoving my phone into my pocket then throwing my bag over my shoulder. Looks like I'm going to England. Alone.

I had never been to England before but I was a little surprised by the place. So many things were the same but different. I felt like a stood out compared to everyone else. It wasn't until late in the evening that I got to where I needed to be. I got a hotel room then left my bag so I could talk to some of the residents. My first stop of a small pub down the street from my hotel. I walked inside straight to the bar where an older man was standing.

"Excuse me" I said to get his attention.

"What can I get ya young lady?" The man asked with a polite smile.

"I wanted to ask if you've seen this man." I said pulling the photo of James out then laying it on the bar.

The older man picked it up. He squinted as he looked it over. He handed it back to me.

"I sure have miss but the man made it clear he didn't want anyone to find him." The man said slowly.

"Please, I'm a very old friend of his. I promise he won't mind if it's me finding him." I tried to sound as genuine as possible.

The man looked me over as he chewed his lip.

"Alright but I wasn't the one who sent ya. He's been hiding out in the old abandoned factory at the end of the road." The man told me.

"Thank you" I said quickly then ran out of the bar.

I jogged down the street not stopping until I saw an old run down building. That had to be the one. I was slow and cautious to go inside. I pushed the large door open letting it close behind me. The room was open and dark. I couldn't hear anything and I could barely see.

"Hello? James?" I asked threw the darkness.

I took two steps forwards when a large arm wrapped around my neck then pulled me backward. My back slammed into a hard chest as something cold and sharp pressed against my cheek.

"It's Willow" I choked out in a panic.

The person holding me let go then grabbed my arm turning me to face them. Cold metal grabbed each of my cheeks holding my head in place. The man stepped forward as he pushed me backwards. He only stopped when he got me into the moonlight streaming in from a broken window. He let go of me face then stepped into the light so I could see him. It was him. It was really him. He looked tired and scruffy. His hair was much longer and unkept.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked harshly.

"Looking for you." I said breathlessly.

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Why?" He asked slowly.

"Steve has had us searching the world for you. It's all been cold leads until now. I honestly didn't think I'd find you." I explained quickly.

James sighed then fell into a chair by the broken window. I moved to stand in front of him. He rubbed his eyes then leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

“What do you want?” He asked looking up to meet my eyes.

“I guess Steve wants me to bring you back. Your his childhood best friend after all.” I chuckled softly.

“No, I asked what you wanted.” He repeated.

I was taken back by that. What I want? I never thought about it. I’ve only been doing this for Steve. I didn’t think I had a reason for it. Not a personal one.

“I’m just doing this for Steve.” I said softly.

James stood to tower over me. He brushed a piece of hair out of his face.

“Still no memories of me I see.” He said quietly.

I shook my head. For some reason I felt bad about it. I felt sorry for not knowing him like he apparently knew me. His eyes seemed to fix themselves on my jacket. A small smile rugged at his lips.

“If I could remember I would but whatever they did to me it seems permanent.” I shrugged.

James chuckled darkly as he stepped closer to me.

“I thought the same thing about myself but I was wrong. So are you. All you need is a little spark to get those memories started again.” He explained in a menacing voice.

I knew he was trying to intimidate me for whatever reason. I didn’t move from my spot. I wouldn’t back away. I wouldn’t flinch. His face moved closer to mine until his lips were hovering less then a inch from mine.

“Let me help you.” He whispered.

Before I could reply he pressed his lips softly to mine. It was such a small simple kiss yet everything in me roared to life. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. As James pulled away a sharp pain went threw my skull. What seemed like a million images flashed before me. It was like a true ‘my life flashed before my eyes’ moment. It was so incredibly overwhelming. I felt myself be overcome by whatever was happening as my body went limp and fell to the floor.

I woke up the next morning in my hotel room. I was safely and comfortably tucked into the bed. I sat up slowly trying to recall what had happened. The last thing I remember was talking to James. I found him! I jumped out of bed then quickly pulled on my shoes. Without thinking I ran as fast as I could out of the hotel all the way to the end of the street where that old building was. I pushed my way inside to find absolutely nothing. He was gone. Just like that. I had him. Steve is not going to be happy.

—

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #the girl out of time #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #tony stark #thor #agent hill #bruce banner #rhodey #sam wilson #sam wilson fanfiction #sam x reader

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thiswreckageivebecome · 4 years ago

Text

The Winter Soldier is Still Here (Part 27- “Kiss Me Deadly”) (Bucky/Winter Soldier x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 4474

Warnings: Violence

Author’s Note: I did a bit of a rewrite and repost on this chapter.

Masterlist

BUCKY POV

————————

"What has he taken from you?" I ventured asking T'Challa after an extended period of silence, my eyes still on (Y/n). He acted as though he didn't want to answer and I could see the pain he held.

"It's a long story."

"Well, I don't recall Africa being that close to D.C. so I'd think we'd have some time. But hey, if you don't want to ta-"

"My father and the love of my life. He is responsible for their deaths. He is the reason I now hold the mantle of king."

"I'm sorry to hear that. How did it happen?" T'Challa took a visible deep breath before continuing.

"He has been working with a man named Klaue. You see, in Wakanda we hold a very precious element and there are multitudes of it. Many in the world search after it. It's called Vibranium."

"Isn't that what Steve's sh-" I began to ask and he nodded.

"Captain America's shield, yes. Your arm, also. It's a powerful element as you well know. It's power can be harnessed for many purposes and used in a large quantity of ways. Some, like Klaue and Charscovsky, want to steal it to use it for weapons that will only bring more harm to the world than there already is. As you can imagine, we don't want this and are attempting to defend it in the best ways we know how."

"I'm sorry for your losses."

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. When the explosion first occurred, I couldn't even comprehend what was happening. One of my sister's labs contained a new experiment that would not only strengthen the vibranium but turn it into a transparent liquid, as well as giving it the opportunity to turn it into a gaseous form. My sister was working on this so that they could be utilized for medicinal and manufacturing purposes, however, Klaue and HYDRA want it to make new weapons."

"That sounds like HYDRA," I looked over at (Y/n). She was still unconscious but she seemed as though she was resting. I recalled what my resting was like while in cryostasis, though, and that thought almost dropped me to my knees, thinking of what could be going through (Y/n)'s mind. I placed my hand on the wall of the aircraft for support. T'Challa noticed.

"She's the love of your life, yes?" I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Yes, yes I think she is."

NATASHA POV

________________

As the craft moved quickly away, I made it a point to run as quick as my legs would carry me to the vehicle Bucky and I had brought. As soon as I was in, I stepped on it, maneuvering the traffic with quick and aggressive movements. It was at times like these that my driving became less cautious despite all of my training to be cautious in all situations. I had to get back to the tower to inform the rest of the team and get the jet fueled up so we could be ready to move as soon as we got the Wakandan coordinates. I didn't completely mistrust these newcomers, but I didn't fully trust them either. I had no idea what they'd do to them or how they'd help them. Hell, if Tony couldn't help him, what could these strangers do? As soon as I got back into the tower, I ran to the common room and pressed the intercom button on the wall beside the glass floor-to-ceiling window.

"I need anyone and everyone here to report to the common room for an emergency meeting. Now, people!"

It only took a moment for Peter, always gung-ho to get in on any potential action instead of thinking through the dangers involved. As the newest member of the Avenger team, he also was ready and desiring to please in any way, shape, or form. Steve was next to arrive, Sam trailing behind. Wanda showed up, followed by Vision, fingers intertwined. Tony was the last to show up as I already had frantically begun explaining to them what had ocurred.

"Wait, so you're telling me Barnes willingly jumped right back into the arms of Hydra after we've been fighting to get him out from under their grasp?"

"Yes, and no, Tony. God, if you weren't so fucking arrogant and slow-moving, you wouldn't have missed the important bit that (Y/n) was captured by them. That's why he went!"

"So where are they now? How and why are you back without them," Steve's voiced matched mine decimal for decimal with emotion.

"That's what I'm trying to say! They're in Wakanda! I'm waiting now for coordinates and as soon as we get them, we have to go to them. We have to be ready in case it was all a setup. They offered to help her so of course, he went. He wouldn't listen to me." The phone buzzed. Coordinates appeared with instructions to make contact when we were a hundred miles out. I handed the phone to let him read, waiting for his reaction. He looked up, jaw tight, and looked every one of us in the eyes before he said,

"Suit up."

READER POV

___________

Flashes of memories that weren't my own shone throughout my mind. I felt cold but I could not awaken. I felt as though there was a transparent, yet impenetrable cloud covering my entire body as I lay and watch as if it was the projection screen of someone else's life. I watched as people were murdered in the most horrid of ways. I watched, attempting to scream but no sound escaped my throat. I saw police cars and ambulances blow by as I, or who ever's eyes I was viewing this through, sat in wait and patience, and I could feel conflicted pleasure flood my veins. I could feel success but there was something else nagging at that success. It felt like regret, disgusting regret and sorrow. I could see myself move from the window and across the bare room of what seemed an empty apartment to get a better view. I could see medical services and camera crews, running after the Continental. I could feel the smile spread across my lips and the threatening regret bubbling inside attempting to pull those lips down.

The scene changed. I saw flashes of a man one who seemed a friend one who seemed to be by my side. He smiled over at me, grabbed me on the shoulder encouragingly. This man had strong cheekbones and medium bronze-brown hair. His jaw tightened in a flash and his eyes grew vile and all signs of life left them. The surrounding light flickered off and when the light resumed, I watched as he was tossed into a vertical tube and he went under Cryostasis. I felt someone grab the back of my arm and guide me to my own tube. Everything went black.

I sat in darkness for what seemed an eternity. I attempted to scream. I couldn't see where I was but I felt as though I was in a coffin. I attempted to scream, to kick, to fight my way out of the darkness but it was as if none of my efforts were making any difference. I couldn't sleep. Adrenaline pulsed through my system at lightening speeds and while my efforts seemingly did nothing, I could feel the strength of my own hands, arms, and legs reinforcing and growing stronger throughout the fight.

Out of nowhere came a burst of light and I found myself standing under a lampost. I felt the same conflict but this time, it was anxiety and determination. I was waiting for someone, someone I would do irreprable harm to, but I couldn't recall who or why; I suppose because these weren't my own memories, but someone else's, and I couldn't figure out who just yet. I began to walk forward, at a gradual pace so that I could take in the sight of the bar, yet walk by undetected. I saw him and he appeared familiar yet sick. I continued to walk forward once he was in my sights. I positioned myself just inside the opening of the dark alley so that I could be hidden yet I could still observe what I needed to. I waited and the tension inside my chest continued to build. As I waited, the street was quiet and all but empty, except the few drunken strangers leaving the bar and the addicts doing business. Those who were lucky enough to stay off drugs while on the street steered clear of places like this, I practically heard this person say in their mind, so I won't have to worry about sober witnesses. The man I was waiting for stumbled out of the bar. I stepped out of the darkness by only a few inches so that my identity would remain unknown to my incognizent victim. I heard myself say:

"Hey, Jack."

The man turned, apparently whose name was Jack. Across his face was surprise and just a hint of recognition before he collapsed from the bullet I put in his chest. I felt the dull pain in my own chest as I opened Jack's vehicle trunk and stuffed his body inside. I got in the vehicle and drove off before once again, everything went black.

I laid there in the opaque nothing-ness. I felt tears stream down my cheeks. That Jack was the same man who had appeared in the prior vision. I may not have the memories to go with, but I could feel it in the very depths of my soul that this man, this Jack person, had been a friend, a confidante, someone whom this person had been proud of, someone who was like a kid-brother to them. I saw the bleakness in his eyes that mirrored my own pain and self-destruction, whoever's eyes I was seeing through. I saw the desolation in his eyes as he exited that bar and I knew we had suffered similar demons both in our imagination and out in the world. As I felt a sob beginning to crawl its way out of my chest, an explosion of black smoke, orange sparks, and flying debris dashed across my eyes and threw shadows across my face.

After the smoke cleared, I, myself, not the memories of the person I was watching, saw a person I knew standing in front of me with blood across their face, as well as blood stains from bullet wounds I could sense this person's memories I was watching had inflicted. I recognized him immediately. Steve, Steve was standing in front of me, in front of this person, and with the sorrow in Steve's eyes, I knew immediately whose memories I had been living: Bucky's. My sweet Bucky, I was watching the deeds that haunted him. My vision jumped as did my body. I heard Bucky, myself seemingly, say "You're my mission," and I could feel the tension inside his chest, in my own, grow until I thought my own chest would erupt and gush forth the ripping and contradicting emotions filling it. I could feel the pressure of the metal hitting skin, cheekbone and skull. I could feel splatters of blood hitting my face as I raised my arm multiple times until I felt something stop me and I heard Steve's words.

"Then finish it. 'Cause I'm with you 'til the end of the line."

Traversing across my vision there were quick-paced scenes of Steve and myself as Bucky, walking up steps and I could feel the anguish in his chest, unsure how exactly to help Steve in whatever was going on. Then I discovered from the discussion that it must have been when Steve's mom passed and he had no one left. I came back to the present with Bucky. I could sense the recognition set in. Bucky finally knew him. He knew his best friend, Steven Rogers.

BUCKY POV

___________

I could sense an immediate halt in conversation and for it, I was grateful. I walked to the other end of the aircraft and sat beside the table (Y/n) lay upon. I watched her for a few moments until I knew the tears would overflow and be seen by watchful eyes. I chose instead to drop my head and let the tears fall to the floor.

"Shit," I thought. " Now I'll have to wipe them up somehow or someone could fall. (Y/n) could fall if something happened and she awoke before we exited the aircraft. I attempted to wipe my eyes as I brushed back my hair, lifting my head. I decided what I would do would be to sit on the floor of the craft in hopes that no one would realize why and they'd only think I was slightly more odd than they originally thought.

I began to shift to the floor but just as I was about to sit and slide over the petite puddle it seemed to disappear. What kind of place were these people from? I retuned to where I had been sitting and it wasn't long before I heard Okoye announce:

"We're here."

I saw a holographic shield open that wouldn't be seen by the naked eye and soon enough we were landing inside a mounain. It reminded me just slightly of the way Hydra had hidden themselves within the mountains in the Alps. I pushed the thought from my mind quickly. These people had done nothing but help me, help us, thus far. I would remain aware, but I would not object to their assistance for (Y/n)'s sake. When we landed and the door opened, a young woman approached us in white garb that looked like a youthful twist on a doctor's coat and uniform.

"Mr. Barnes," it is a pleasure to meet you. She stretched forth her hand in a friendly notion. I took it and shook lightly. Her petite frame appeared fragile.

"This is my sister, Shuri," T'Challa introduced her. "She is the one who will be assisting in the process of reversing what both you and (Y/n) are victim of."

"But (Y/n), first," I couldn't help but interrupt, my breathing accelerating to a pace it hadn't reached in quite some time, teeming with worry and anxiety. "I don't care about me, but she has to be better. She didn't deserve this. She has-" T'Challa placed a light hand on my shoulder to halt my words.

"Yes, will do all that we can for her, Mr. Barnes. You have my word. We will help her."

Once they saw that I was calming down again, Shuri turned to Okoye.

"Will you escort Mr. Charscovsky to the prisoner's quarters? However, before you do," she pulled a syringe out of the beads on her wrist. "Did you want to question him now, brother?" T'Challa shook his head no. The syringe disappeared once again.

"Okay, well he will remain under for another few days if you do not wish me to dose him with the antidote."

"We will help Ms. (Y/L/n) first. We will give it to him later."

"Where did that come from and where did it go?" I asked, jarred from the technology, something that seemed more like magic, that was being operated before my very eyes. Shuri ignored my question, motioning to Charscovsky to be taken away and then for T'Challa and myself to follow her. She led the way down the corridor to wherever the next step awaited in this mission I was on to save the woman I loved. I tried not to think of how she would probably never be mine again after this, but I would forever love her and do everything in my power to save her from this hell I had inadvertently put her in.

STEVE POV

____________

I couldn't believe Buck left without telling anyone and had walked right into the hands of Hydra. After everything he'd been through, he just walked, ran actually according to Natasha, well within their reach. This girl...she meant even more than I thought possible. God...(Y/n), I can't believe she had to get caught up in all of this. I can't believe she's been turned. I don't know if Buck will make it through this one if these strangers can't help her. We're going to have to-

"Have I mentioned that I fucking hate this," Natasha's biting, yet quiet and anxious tone, broke into my stream of consciousness.

"No, but I didn't imagine you felt much differently." I paused. "For what it's worth, I hate it too." A memory came into my mind, rendering me nervous to broach the subject but there hadn't been a chance before now.

"So, I want to ask, possibly discuss, something that may not be the most comfortable, and if you don't want to talk about it just tell me to shut up, okay?" She side-eyed me.

"Okay."

"I learned something new, at least as long as (Y/n) was telling the truth." I swallowed hard before continuing. "You and Buck?"

"Shit," was all she responded for a moment. "How did that come up? And when?"

"Right before they saw each other in the park. She thought you two had rekindled something. She tried to be happy about it. She said how y'all were better suited for each other." I waited but Nat didn't respond. After a few moments, I continued. "Like I said, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Basically I wanted to apologize for being an idiot. I've probably not made things easier for you when I-"

"Shut up, Steve," she said bluntly. I looked away but happened to see her turn towards me and smirk. "I accept and appreciate your unnecessary apology." She hesitated but then seemed to exhale so much more than words. "I've loved him for years, of course. I thought I had lost him for quite some time, but I still held him in my heart, no matter how much it hurt. Then he came back, he appeared out of nowhere just like he did then and my heart...I didn't think I could take it. I'll be honest, I loathed (Y/n) with all of my being even bef-"

"Oh trust me, we were all aware," I couldn't stop myself from interrupting playfully, to which she only mock gawked before rolling her eyes but persisted with her story.

"Well as I as saying, I loathed her before I knew her, when I met her, even when she left, but when she left, I loathed her less. It didn't have anything to do with her attempting to fight back against the Winter Soldier to save my life-I don't want that to be mistaken as to why- but when Jam-Barnes came back to her...I knew. I knew it was over for us. I can't lie and say that the time she was gone from him, that I didn't hope that I could persuade him to love me once again...to remember me like he remembered her." She trailed off again, her eyes growing glassy. She cleared her throat. "But when she came back, when she was changed...in that warehouse before he accepted that he had to knock her unconcious, I knew-finally knew and accepted- that it would never again come to pass. I had my time with him, but that time is over. Even if she comes out of this unscathed and wants nothing to do with him, I won't pursue him any further. I can't do it. He loves her too much."

"We're about to hit the radius spot," Sam called over his shoulder.

"I'll make contact." Before she could finish the message, however, a voice came back through the jet's PA system.

"Ms. Romanoff, we are presuming." Okoye's voice flooded everyone's nerves, amping them up even more.

"Yes, it's Natasha and the team. Where are Barnes and (Y/n)?"

"They are together, but (Y/n) is still under." T'Challa's voice came through in answer. "We have not yet begun to work on her condition in depth. Charscovsky will be under until we are ready to question him. If you are willing to put your jet on autopilot, we will steer you in. If you prefer, we will send the flight patterns and coordinates to your system." Sam answered without waiting.

"I think I can handle it if you'll send me the positions."

"As you wish," T'Challa paused and spoke to some of his people. "Do as they request. Mr. Wilson, they have just been sent. Do you have them?"

Sam looked at the screens and saw the match. "Got them. We will be there in nine minutes."

"We look forward to greeting you all, and welcome to Wakanda."

All of us were shocked when we looked up and without much notice, everything around us changed. The scenery went from being what you saw on television to a thriving metropolis surrounded by African nature and wildlife. It was a beautiful sight. As Sam made his way toward the landing zone, I could tell he was getting nervous.

"I hope they're right about this. Or we're gonna land a lot faster than you guys want to." The mountain in front of us opened and it was almost reminicent of Hydra which only increased my nerves more. I was more on edge of what this sight may have brought Buck back to, memory-wise. I tried to physically shake the worry from my mind in a slight shiver. Once we landed, the door opened and there were a few waiting on us. I let Nat take the lead since she had supposedly met them prior.

"Ms. Romanoff," T'Challa said, sticking out his hand to shake hers.

"King," she responded without familiarity but with enough respect to get away with it. She introduced each of us to T'Challa and Okoye, his guard, and then came forward another young woman, in different garb.

"This is my sister, Shuri. She is the one who will be running the treatments on (Y/n) and Mr. Barnes."

"Wait, what?"

"I didn't mention that part," Natasha explained. "They intend to reverse what Hydra did to Barnes. I figured if I included that bit of information Tony may not come, too offended that someone else claimed they could do more than him." We both looked at him where he only scoffed in response.

"Mr. Barnes is this way with Ms. (Y/l/n), if you'd like to see them." She turned and led the way, the team following close, still slightly on edge, taking in the wonders of underground Wakanda.

READER POV

____________

Everything faded to black. I felt the remorse in my own chest and I began screaming for Bucky, not for him to rescue me, but for his pain. I never had any true clue as to what he had gone through. These glimpses into parts of his past affected me more than any concept I thought I had previously had of him. After some time of screaming for him, screaming "BUCKY! NO! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry," I realized that I could hear my voice. It wasn't a scream like it was in my mind, but I could hear. I was no longer silenced. I didn't know what had changed. Everything was still pitch black, but I could scream and that made me stop in my tracks, puzzled. The memories flooded back in the silence and I began again, like a looped track: "Bucky. I'm so sorry. I know. I know now. I love you. I know. I'm so sorry." I began to hear something outside of the silence...the faintest of voices.

"(Y/n), (Y/n)? Can you hear me? It's Bucky. I'm here. You're okay. I'm right here." I heard him say seemingly aside. "Oh my God, where is Shuri? Shuri!!"

Who was Shuri? Where were we? I heard the beeping of monitors and I realized it was probably some horrid trick of Hydra. Shuri must be one of theirs. I began to struggle and I could feel my strength compiling and making a difference in my restraints. The grips were loosening.

"LET ME GO! I'll kill every one of you for what you did," I heard my growl. I began struggling and finally my eyes opened. I saw him. My blood ran cold. My target, his face horror-stricken. Good, he should be frightened. I was able to break through the straps then.

BUCKY POV

___________

"It's okay, (Y/n), it's okay. I'm here. Bucky, remember me? I know. Do you hear me? Please, this isn't you. Don't do this. Come back to me!" Her words were echoed in my memory as I spit them back out in her direction, backing away only slightly so that she had room to stand. They seemed to only intensify her anger. In that moment I decided whatever happened, I wouldn't fight back. If she beat me until my death, I would deserve it and if I died because of her touch, I'd die okay with that.

READER POV

___________

I leapt from the table, iv's and chords ripping out of machines and I charged him. He was a traitor. He deserved death. I'd be the one who brought that about. My superiors would be pleased. I pushed him against the far wall and began throwing everything I had at him. A thought occurred to me. Why is he not fighting back? I hit him again, but slower. He was bleeding from the side of his eye, his nose and mouth. He remained conscious. I hit him again.

"FIGHT BACK!" I yelled, sticking my knee into his throat attempting to give him reason to fight for his life. "This makes for much less entertainment if you don't put up a fight." Still he did not do as I suspected. He tapped my thigh lightly, beckoning me to give him the power to speak. I pinned his arms down with my legs, letting go of his throat, feeling the cold metal on my skin. Something pricked in my mind, but I didn't know what it was. It made me angrier.

"I love you, (Y/n). Do it. Kill me. I won't fight you."

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sanity-is-overratedxp · 7 years ago

Text

A Universe Apart.

A/N: Hello my Lovelies! This is a soulmate series that I am really looking forward to writing. It's an idea that the lovely @sebastianshoe helped me out with. Feel free to send me your thoughts and opinions!

Summary: Two universes, two lovers from very different lives. What will happen when the Daughter of a Winchester finds her soulmate, The King of New Orleans. What happens when they find out that they truly are a universe apart?

Pairings: Dad!Dean x reader/ Dad!Cas x reader/ Destiel/ Uncle!Sam x reader/ Uncle!Crowley x reader/ Uncle!Adam x reader/ Grandma!Mary x reader/ Uncle!Gabriel x reader/ Grandpa!Bobby x reader/ Future Mikaelsons x reader

Warnings: Canon!Divergence/Canon!Violence Some language. Fluff but be prepared for future angst and a lot of it.

Word count: 1600

Nicknames: Dean=Pops, Castiel=Dad, Sam=Moose, Adam=Twiggy, Crowley=Short Stack, Gabriel=Loki, Charlie=Red, Kevin=Psych, Mary=Gran, Bobby=Gramps, Jack=J

A Universe Apart.

Chapter 1

((Reader's P.O.))

I'd never been normal. When your dad's are Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak normal is kinda out of the equation I guess...

I was raised in the life of a hunter, just done Winchester style. I grew up with a family of good angels and demons, fighting the evil in the world. Me and my family were the main reason the world was still standing.

I guess I should say how I came about huh? I was the product of one of my dad Dean's many one night stands before he stayed with my other father Castiel, my mom was some waitress who dad was with for a bit. My dad never thought that I would end up in the world, neither did my mom and I guess that was why she left me in front of my dad's motel room. Pops had been out working on a case with uncle Sammy and Dad when they heard me crying outside the door.

Uncle Sammy was the one who opened the door, and there I was in all my adorable baby glory... Screaming my lungs out because I was cold. Pops came to ask Uncle Sammy what was up when he saw me. They tried to find my mom but she was long gone, everyone was obviously wondering how mom found them after so long but I guess we'll never know that. I never saw her or anything and I'm kinda glad for that because the only parents I ever knew were the ones who were there for everything.

After the initial shock had settled down my Pops took me, and my Dad says he had never seen my dad truly let down his walls before that. Uncle Sammy went on a supply run to get everything I would end up needing and when he got back Dad took me and went back to the bunker. It was hard to get me away from Pops but he knew that I needed to be away from the hunt. When Dad got home with me he looked for my Grandma Mary so he could get back and help Pops.

((Castiel’s P.O. ))

I walked into the library looking for Dean's mother Mary calling out for her as I entered. “Mary we have a situation.” I couldn't seem to find her so I kept walking. Just as I was about to give up hope I turned around and saw Crowley. “What are you doing here? Dean and Sam aren't home right now.” I asked. I was slightly suspicious but we had made peace with Crowley a few years ago after the incident with Lucifer.

“I know that Cas. I sensed you were here without them and that piqued my interest. Now can I ask you a quick question?” I nodded my assent. “Why the bloody hell are you holding a child?” he asked rather loudly. All of a sudden the child started crying, I tried to calm her but she was still crying. “Oh give her here.” He said as he held out his hands. I was apprehensive as I didn't know how Dean would feel about the matter. “I know how to hold a child Cas. I can handle this and I can calm them down while you tell me what's going on.” I handed her over with care. I trusted that Crowley would be gentle with her. “Now. What the bloody hell is going on?”

“I know very little but it seems she is Dean's daughter and her mother has left her for Dean to take care of. I came here to leave her with Mary so I can go back and help Dean finish the hunt faster so he can come back home to her sooner.” after I finished Crowley just stood there. The child had calmed down and he was just looking at me and then the child.

“Go ahead and go. I'll stay here with her.” I tilted my head. I was surprised, Crowley had never seemed like the type to like kids. I opened my mouth to ask him if he was sure. “Yes Cas. I'm sure I want to stay with her. Do you have everything she needs or do I need to go get formula for her?” I held out the bag. “Sam said everything was in there and that it should last at least two weeks. We should be back by then.” He nodded at me and took the bag. “Alright then, run along and tell Dean I've got this. I'll be sure to tell Mary and Bobby when they get back. If I need help I'm sure Charlie will be more than willing.” I nodded at him and went back to Dean and Sam to tell them.

((Reader's P.O.))

So that's the story of how they got me. I could go into detail about how I made Crowley’s first night with me a fresh hell he'd never known, or my Gran’s reaction to m, or the time I scared the King of Hell into finding my Uncle Adam and bringing him home. But that's a story for another time I guess. I think I'll skip to today. Today was two days before my 21 birthday. Big deal right? You have no idea. See in my house even though pretty much everybody is an alcoholic I was not allowed to have a drink till I turned 21. It didn't mean you didn't try to sneak a glass every now and then. But with a family the size of yours that had an archangel, a nifelheim, the King of Hell, a prophet and your angelic father it never worked and you usually ended up grounded.

Your Pops had promised to take you out for your first drink. You'd been to your fair share of bars growing up, it had always been after your dad's came back from their hunts. You were never allowed to go on hunts because it was too dangerous but you had been trained in all forms of fighting your family could think of. You tended to train with your uncle Adam because he was closer to your size. Though you had trained with them all in order to be prepared for anything.

You were walking around the bunker trying to find a certain someone. You'd just finished your workout and had just gotten out of the shower and you wanted to find your Uncle Gabe because while you were at the shooting range you had gotten the best idea for a prank that the two of you could pull on your Uncle Adam. Just as you were starting to give up hope and go try it yourself you saw him walking toward you. “Hey there Loki! Where have you been?” he saw you and flashed that signature smirk.

“Where else? Causing mischief of course! Piece of advice… avoid Crowley today.” He said ambiguously, “So what have you been doing munchkin?” he messed with your hair.

“I swear Loki, one of these days I'm gonna detach that hand from your arm. I was just trying to find you so I could tell you about my idea to prank Uncle Adam but… if you're too busy I'll just do it myself…” you said while turning away.

“Stop right there munchkin, I'm listening.” his eyes had lit up in a way that would scare most people but you knew that you had this man wrapped around your finger.

“As funny as that would be...” a voice said behind you. “You need to go pack for your trip tomorrow.” You turned around to your Pops standing there looking at you expectantly.

“What trip Pops?” you hadn't planned a trip. And the only place you went anyways was to see your Aunt Jody. “Aunt Jody always comes here for the weekend with the girls.”

“Not just yet. She'll be coming down next weekend to see you because me and your dad are taking you on a little road-trip with us.” He said with a smile. “We'll be heading down to New Orleans because they're gonna be having a big festival in a couple days that we wanted to take you to. So you need to go pack so we can leave bright and early in the morning.” You couldn't hold in your obvious delight. You had never been to New Orleans and you always wanted to go to the city that never rests. You had always felt a pull to it and you couldn't wait to see it.

“Oh my Chuck. Thank you Pops!” you ran and hugged him your arms around his waist. You felt him chuckle, the deep rumble in his chest making you smile. “I'll go start packing right away!” you started running as your Pops watched you with a happy light in his eyes. “Wait!” you heard Gabe yell. “What was the prank? Ow!” you turned around just in time to see your dad slap him behind the head.

As you packed everything you would need you couldn't help but think, “I wonder what awaits me in New Orleans?” little did you know that in a few short days you would find out.

#klaus mikaelson x reader #dean winchester #dad!dean #dad!cas #uncle!sam #uncle!adam #uncle!crowley #uncle!gabe #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #castiel novak imagine #adam milligan imagine #Soulmates #soulmate #soulmate au

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