#this is for my bingo square 'changed into an animal' and at first i had no idea what to do with it

[kairennart]

The Swan Queen

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Kicking - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @fleureeee @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @skyesthebomb @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @@lora21 @kmc1989 @jp1019 @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-throw-away @kabloswrld

Can be read as stand alone or a companion piece to:

Black Satin (NSFW) - Bishop discovers a surprise Christmas gift.

Gingerbread - Bishop comes home to a problem.

Snow - Bishop talks to you about something that's been on his mind.

Miracle - You and Bishop get an extra Christmas gift this year.

Hitting the Slow Dance Bingo Square

The first time Bishop feels his baby kick is during Coco and Stitche’s wedding reception. The two of you are swaying together on the dance floor, his grizzled cheek pressed against yours, eyes closed as the music serenades you. There’s no better feeling in the world than this, having you pressed up against him, the baby residing in the space between you.

You’re five months pregnant at this point, just starting to show. He spends his evenings singing lullabies to his daughter in Spanish, his lips ghosting over your skin before he gets distracted by other things.

It’s when the song changes that the baby starts to react. The band switches to something with a faster pace and he feels a tiny dig against his navel.

“Oh.” You say as you tilt your head to look up at him. “I think she’s kicking.”

You take his hand in yours, pressing his palm flat against the baby bump and he laughs when he feels the small nudge. He spends the next few minutes following his daughter’s movements before the song changes and the baby goes quiet.

“She’s strong.” He says fondly as he draws you into his arms once more. “She’s going to be exactly like you.”

“She could end up a hellion like you.” You counter and Bishop grumbles.

“I hope not.”

The last thing he wants for his daughter is for her to adopt his personality traits, he was wild as a teenager and his biggest fear is that his daughter will follow in his footsteps.

“You turned out alright in the end.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing over that sensitive little spot at the nape of his neck, the one that releases all his tension.

“With a little help.” He smiles, his forehead coming to rest upon yours.

Bishop has always been convinced that you saved him. He was a functioning alcoholic when he met you, smoking forty a day and running drugs and guns up and down the country. He’d expected to be dead before sixty, through a bullet or bike accident. He was careless with his own life, there hadn’t been much to live for after Aiden had died. He’d been in a state of depression for over eight years before he started to see the sun again.

Now he’s on the board of the community centre, he has a home, a partner, a baby on the way. He doesn’t drink anymore, he’s cut his smoking right down, he’s trying to quit before Luna arrives. The job is less risky because the club has gone legit. He’s happier than he’s ever been and he has you to thank for that.

“You saved my life.” He tells you as he cradles you close. “You saved my god damned life.”

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[nekoannie-chan]

Affectionate gesture

Title: Affectionate gesture.

Ship: Brock Rumlow X Sinthea Schmidt (Love).

Word count: 636 words.

Rating: Teen.

Square: B2 “Weird Affectionate Gesture”.

Summary: Brock wants to show Sinthea how much he loves her.

Warnings/Tags: Weird present, guns, Brock tries to being romantic.

A/N: This is my entry to @marvelrarepairbingo​  @marvelrarepairs​ MarvelRarePair Bingo Round 2 2023. Annie MRP-066.

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou​  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight​ @shield-agent78​ @charmed-asylum @caplanbuckybarnes​  @sapphire-rogers @nana1000night​ @talia-rumlow​ @writingshae​ @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga​ @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare​ @endlesstwanted​  @chemtrails-club​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @here4thefanfics​ @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989

Brock was thoughtful; in fact, he had not stopped thinking about the same thing the last few days. He had heard that Sinthea complained that he was not affectionate or romantic enough with her.

However, he had already tried several "common" things like giving her jewelry, flowers, chocolates, and stuffed animals, among other things, and nothing seemed to please her.

He had to think of something. A romantic dinner?

"A romantic dinner," Brock said aloud, not realizing he was not alone.

"I'm not interested," Steve replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you idiot, I'm not inviting you; it's for Sin," Brock explained, crossing his arms.

"She probably won't like it."

"I have an idea; of course, she's going to love it." Brock signaled for Steve not to continue; he felt his brain was working too fast. He needed to start working on the surprise right then and there, and maybe it would be ready by the end of the week.

"Maybe a necklace; he really likes her," Steve commented, not that he really wanted to help him, but he needed to talk to him, and probably then Brock could finish his rant and pay attention to him.

"Yeah, also, but my idea is fantastic," Brock said.

"Hey... " Steve was supposed to say something to him, but Brock ignored him and walked out of the office. He took off.

Brock headed to his car. He was to go visit the place first, then make some calls, and then take care of getting the gift personally.

Jack's expression changed when he started to listen to what Brock was saying; it sounded too strange and different, and although it wasn't the first time he said something like that, it was always uncomfortable when Brock asked him for help when it was about love.

"Are you sure he's going to like it?" Jack asked skeptically, arching his eyebrows.

"Sure, you must admit that for the first time, I've come up with something that will be successful." Brock's voice sounded animated.

"But it's all too red."

"It has touches of black, just the way she likes it, so take care of the decorations; I have to go get the main gift. I trust you. " Brock hurried to his car.

It had taken him a lot of work to get that gift, and as soon as he arrived at the meeting point, he began to move his foot with desperation, although when he saw his watch, he stopped. He had arrived a few minutes earlier.

"She's going to love it," Brock commented when he saw it, and then put it away again.

Now the hard part would be to convince Sin to go to the place where everything was ready. So he basically had to cover her eyes and tie her to the seat so he could take her.

"Brock, just tell me where we're going." Sin demanded, grumpily.

Just a few more minutes, and we’ll arrive," Brock said, trying to contain his excitement.

Sinthea grimaced; she didn't look happy, so Brock felt he should hurry before it turned into a fight.

After he walked her around a bit, he was pleased with her reaction to seeing the place.

After chatting and eating a bit, Brock offered her the box with the gift.

"Really, Brock? It's the best token of affection you've been able to give me in all this time." Sin began to weigh the weapon in her hands. "It’s beautiful; it seemed like a dream come true. I already want it to be the next mission."

"Did you really give her a gun?" Bucky asked incredulously.

"Sinthea has never been like the rest of the girls," Steve pointed out.

"All I care about is that she's happy now and I've had a good week," Brock commented.

[lilareviewsbooks]

Dallergut Dream Department Store: 2.5/5

2.5/5 stars 243 pages contains: cozy vibes and dream magic!!

As some of you may know, I make the São Paulo – Boston trip quite frequently! I'm a college student in the US but live in Brazil, and so that makes for very long plane rides. We're talking 14 hours here. So, to keep sane, I usually download a couple books into my Kindle, pray they're interesting enough to keep me interested, buckle down, and read. 

I've just made the trek once more to spend the summer holidays at home, and I decided to download some books I'm reading for r/Fantasy's Bingo Challenge. One of them was The Dallergut Dream Department Store, by Lee Mi-ye, which clears my "alliterative title" square! Of course, because I can't make anything easy on myself, I read this Korean book in its French translation. Because of this, I feel like it's fully possible I didn't grasp the story in all of its complexity. I'm kind of bad at French. And I might have also been high on sleeping pills for half the book. So, take this review with a grain of salt.

In general, I thought this was a 2.5 star read. For me, that means it's decent. Like getting a C in school — you passed, but your work is far from stellar. What I did enjoy was the concept: the story follows Penny as she begins to work at a magical store people visit in their sleep, and where they "buy" their dreams for the night. And for the most part, the book is a world-building exercise in the concept of the store. It researches how every situation would work, from nightmares to people who day-dream, to animal dreams. Personally, I love a good deep dive into a world, so I was having fun, especially during the first half.

But after a while, it gets repetitive. The chapters are mostly loose stories that don't circle back to a particular theme or event. Penny is almost always there, though, I guess, but I'll get to my problems with Penny later. Although the stories are well-written, very easy to read and can sometimes be quite compelling, they don't make a novel when they're put together. They make up a collection of episodes with the same vague amalgamation of characters. The gimmick gets old pretty fast, and I was quickly looking for some emotional stakes, an overarching plot, anything. And although I am a fan of a good plotless, vibes-only fantasy, the lack of connection I felt with our main character and the fact that she and her friends do not change at all throughout the stories made it a very stale reading experience.

And Penny? Oh, Penny. My question became, quite simply, why are we following her? She's not a particularly interesting character, with no defining traits, nothing she needs or wants (besides working at the store, which she achieves in chapter 1)... Meanwhile, other characters in the novel have more personality, more interesting backgrounds, and they barely get to shine. They're buried behind an overabundance of Penny doing not much of anything, and being a self-insert/audience for Mr. Dallagoot's sermons. I kept wondering if it wouldn't be more interesting to follow any one of them. 

And I think Ms. Lee wondered this too, since she includes two epilogues which are, in my opinion, completely unnecessary, and are told entirely from the perspectives of two other characters. They just prove to the audience that Penny is a dreadful character by abandoning her at the end, leaving two random anecdotes about side-characters, which could've been anywhere in the book, to finish the novel off.

Although the vibes are good, the world is interesting and the book reads very cozy, there's a lot that you're left wanting, here. I think what this book needed was an editor, or a workshop session. It has so much potential, and if some crucial changes had been made, then I think Ms. Lee would have a wonderful final product on her hands.

[polizwrites]

PoliZ's WIP Update: 7 Feb 2024

A busy IRL week, which cut into my writing time/energy.   I  touched  4 fics (1 new works & 3 WIPs) for a total of 1525 words.  

On Ao3, I posted: 

NamNori -  Tony from another dimension sparks some revelations - eventual Stony.    

Ringing In the New - newly established Stony ficlet with some mature content.

On the Edge of Disaster -  CA:CW fix-it, but just barely. 

The Secrets That We Keep -  Stony secret identity & FWB ficlet

On Tumblr I posted: 

Finding a Partner -  Steve & Natasha go dancing (potential pre-slash) 

I’m juggling  19  😬 active/semi-active WIPs with my current  deadlines being the Tony Stark Bingo & Stony AU Bingo which both wrap in mid-February.    

See  below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc.  As always, feel free to send me   prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding  any of these projects  or any other WIPs I’ve got out there.   Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Bucky Barnes Bingo  - [BBB_R5]   (Ends 10 31 Jan 2024)

Ended up with twenty-six fills  and  an assisted blackout!   Masterpost coming some time this week. 

Tony Stark Bingo Round 7  - [TSB_R7]   (ends 15 Feb)

Twenty-six  fills and two WIPs as of the moment  - getting an assisted blackout, thanks to a couple of adopted squares! 

* A2 - KINK: Concubine -  This will get filled with Chapter Two of  The Sultan’s Gifts  whic will also fills my SAUB Gentle Dom square and the Build a Bucky Bingo February prompt Fingering.  It’s coming in at 1065 words and will post on Friday.  A third smutty chapter (filling my SRB Multiple Submissives squares) is  currently sitting at 441 words.  

* K5 - AU: Anime - I had Vague Ideas of doing a “Battle of the Planets” (my first anime and a childhood favorite)  fusion, with Tony as Princess, Steve as Mark and Bucky as Jason - but wasn’t sure who to put in as  Tiny (Happy? Thor?) or  Keyop (Vision?) -  JARVIS would have been their 7-Zark- 7 of course….  if I have time/spoons/inspiration - I may do something with this.   

* Jan Adoptable: Enemies to Lovers -  working to fit this into another Flash Fiction Friday-inspired fic -  To Earn the Dragon’s Heart  was written for prompt  [#FFF237 A Fool’s Quest] and will also fill my SAUB AU: Fantasy square.  The fic is inspired by CoffeeOwl’s really cool dragon!Steve/ indebted!Tony prompt in the STB Discord server.  The expansion is up to 1045 words and will hopefully be posted on the 14th.  

Stony AUniverse Bingo  [SAUB_R1] (ends 15 Feb)

Another brand-new bingo I’m helping co-mod!   I’m up to fourteen  fills, four  WIPs and several  crossover ideas in play.  Not sure I’m going to get a blackout - but I’ll do my best!  

* S1 - Edging - Posted  Ringing In the New to Ao3 on Monday -  where Tony makes a suggestion to Steve improve/change up their love life. It crossed over with a Flash Fiction Friday prompt: How Do You Use ‘It’? and came in at 335 words.

* S3 - AU: Wings -  think I need to pivot on this - maybe I’ll be self-indulgent and do a second remix of some part of Take What Was Wrong (And Make it Right) from Steve’s POV - since  the first remix  is Bucky POV (and therefore tricky to make Stony-focused) 

* S5 - Accidental Baby Acquisition - see BBB Yelena Belova  - this may have to come off the table/pivot to something else.  

* T1 - AU: Fantasy -  see TSB  Enemies to Lovers. 

* T2 - Adopting a Cat - combined this with a Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF236 Fight or Flight]  for  Feline Fight and Flight  - which will probably get a better title before I post it to Ao3.😁 This No Powers established Stony ficlet - where Tony’s rescuing a stray cat and Steve helps out -  came in at  390 words. 

* T4 - AU: Canon Divergence -  Filled this with  On the Edge of Disaster -  a  CA:CW last-minute partial fix-it from Steve’s POV that also filled a Flash Friday Fic fill   [#FFF209 On the Edge] as well as my SRB Fix-It square.  I’ve gotten one cranky comment on it already.  🙄🙄🙄

* O2 - Omegaverse - I have a Vague Idea inspired by  @kandisheek’s lovely art piece.  

* O3 - FREE - used this in combination with a previous  Flash Fiction Friday prompt:   [#FFF235 Little Pink Houses]  to come up with  Those Old Crazy Dreams (Just Kind of Came and Went) which was posted to Tumblr and came in at 461 words.  I may tweak it a bit before posting to Ao3 before this event is over.   

* N2 - Mutual Pining - crossover with CABB Royal Knight?

* N3 - Gentle Dom - see TSB KINK: Concubine above

* N5 - AU: Multiple Identities - Posted  The Secrets That We Keep  to Ao3 this morning.  It’s a first person present tense alternating POV ficlet with mutual pining (and secret identity) Stony. Inspired by the  Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF225 I Can't Tell], the ficlet came in at 340 words.

Captain (America) Bottom Bingo - Round 2 [CABB] (ends 28 Feb 2024)

I signed up for a 3x3 card for this bingo and have six fills, two WIPs and a couple of crossover ideas.

* B3 - Royal Knight - see SAUB Mutual Pining.

Post July Break Bingo  [JBB_23p] (Ends Apr 2024)

One fill on my  2x3 non-fandom-specific card - still working on  potential crossovers.

* A1 - “It’s you. It’s always been you.” - I may be including this in a Canon Divergence prompt I have on one of these cards 😁

* B2 - Character’s personality is split into two different beings – I’ve never played with Bucky & the Soldier being two different people, but this seems like the perfect opportunity! Will see what might be a good crossover on one of my open cards.

*  C1 - Touch Starved – another good fit for a Bucky-centric fic. (Steve or Tony or Clint).

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 3 [SRB_R3] (ends  15 Jun 2024)

Seven  fills and one WIP - need to ponder possible crossovers, especially with  CABB.  

* A1 - Steve can actually dance just fine - Matched this up with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF238 Take My Hand]  for   Finding a Partner -  where Steve & Natasha go dancing (potential pre-slash). It came in at  239 words and will post to Ao3 before the event is over.    

* B4 - Fix it  - See SAUB AU: Canon Divergence

* C5 - Exes to Lovers  - crossover with  CABB - "B1 - "All I wanted was for you to be happy."  – Bucky or Tony as the Ex?   SAUB S4 - Arranged Marriage  might be an additional crossover  

* D1 - Multiple Submissives -  see  TSB  KINK: Concubine

Bucky Barnes Connect Four - Alt Jun-iverse [BBC4_R2]  {Ends June 2024}

The good folks over at @buckybarnesevents  have opened this event up early!  You sign up for a single row card of four squares and the challenge is to see if you can combine any/all into a single Bucky-centric AU fanwork - although you can also create 2-4 separate fanworks if you want.  

The combo of prompts on my first card [Reality Show,  Omegaverse, Talent/Manager, Royalty] sparked an idea that I’m about 230 words + misc notes into already -  Alpha!Bucky as a technical prince   who gets talked into joining a reality show that is supposed to match him up with an omega… but there’s a twist!   I’m torn between striking while the iron is hot vs spending time on the fics that have a looming deadline…  🙃

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] {Ends TBD] 

Just signed up for this fun Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and want to swap out one square, but otherwise am looking forward to creating more  Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of  Kate Bishop fic as well!    

*A1 - Werewolf AU -  possible inspiration to continue A Hairy Situation? 

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?    

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] {Ends Oct 2024}

Another fun year-long  event from the folks at  @buckybarnesevents!  Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one  each month for your card!

* November:  Crackfic - DONE  

* December: Wingman  - DONE

* January: Wingfic  - DONE

*January: Polyamory - DONE

* February -  Fingering -  see TSB KINK: Concubine 

Warm and Fluffy   Bingo  [WFB]   (no end date)

Four  fills on my card, courtesy of   @warmandfluffybingocards  - need to try for another crossover or two! 

————

On  other creative fronts:  I am working on a Taylor Swift figure as a commission;  I still have one figure to go for one of my Marvel Trumps Hate  auction winners:  Captain Rambeau aka Photon. If  you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check  out Stuffed With Character    over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!).   These soft stuffed figures are  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design   requests  for any fandom!

[stuckybingo]

Stucky Bingo Round-Up #27 (April 16th - 22nd)

Don’t forget to fill out the submission form to be a part of the round-ups and to get your bingo badges! Sign-ups for a bingo card end on April 30th!

Stucky Bingo April 2023 Round Robin by Dogsled, buckybarnesdeservestobehappy, Sivan325, Trinity Day, PoliZ Square filled: Clint Barton, “Rappin’ with Cap” PSAs, “I think I’m friends with him too.”, Unrequited Love, Music Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: University AU, Pining, Meddling Friends, dramatic!Bucky, Bucky POV Summary: Bucky loved his friends, and he didn’t really blame them for interfering. How could he? Clint was right; in the two years since they’d come here together for uni, Bucky’s ladykiller days had spontaneously ended. It was always about Steve, now. Steve this, Steve that. Nevermind that in all that time Bucky had probably said maybe 20 words to the man. Format: Round Robin

Only Human by DeathRaeBeam Square filled: O3 - First Kiss Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply, No warnings needed Major tags: Past hurt/current comfort Summary: A quick glimpse into Steve and Bucky's lives after Bucky comes to live with Steve. Not Civil War compliant Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

Chapter 2 of You Fondue, Too? by DeathRaeBeam Square filled: I5 - Technology Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Howard Stark sees more than he says, Bucky Barnes is too smart for his own good, Summary: Howard and Bucky have created a working prototype using the shard power. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

On This Universe Too by endlesstwanted Square filled: B1 - America Chavez Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Established Relationship, Avengers Compound, First Meetings Summary: Bucky and Steve meet América in a sleepless night, but it's not the first time she's met them. Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

Waking Next To Him by endlesstwanted Square filled: G3 - Huddling for Warmth Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Violence Major tags: Snippets, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: As far as he can remember, Bucky has always hugged Steve searching for warmth and having his own feelings reciprocated. Sometimes they would cuddle to sleep, but Steve rarely woke up next to him. Until he did. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

of practical jokes and secret admirers by SomeSortofItalianRoast Square filled: B1 - Secret Admirer Ao3 rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Pre-Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Secret Admirer Summary: Commander Steve Rogers has a crush on SI employee Bucky Barnes, but hasn't gotten up the courage to tell him yet. So he leaves a package and a note on Bucky's desk. Assuming it to be a prank, Bucky throws it away. This is what happens after Natasha Romanov gets involved. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

the white wolf of wall street by sparkagrace Square filled: N5 - au: changed into an animal Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: werewolf au, wolf of wall street inspired, mild dub con, recreational drug use Summary: Bucky Barnes. The White Wolf of Wall Street. That’s what people call him. He has an acute ability for the stock market, seemingly able to know exactly where to put his client’s money, how to get the most returns, and a nose for risk. His razor-sharp prowess has led him to rise to the top of their company and curate a specialist team that turns everything they touch into gold. Steve meets his steely eyes and tries not to flinch when Bucky smiles; his sharp white teeth flashing as he passes, and Steve swears he sees Bucky’s tongue run across his teeth in appreciation. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

I'll always find my way back (to you) by galks Square filled: B4 - Rogers: the Musical Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: post endgame, de-serumed Steve Rogers, established relationship, angst, happy ending Summary: When Steve reappears on the platform after returning the Stones, he can tell something went wrong. Not only is he alone in the woods, he's also back in his old body. He has many questions, but the only thing he really wants is to make his way back to Bucky. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

A Boatload of Problems by Cherriontop Square filled: O4 - Sarah Wilson Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: disabled bucky, survivor's guilt, veterans steve and bucky, PTSD, meddling sarah Summary: “I think Steve and Bucky might get along,” Sarah says, tone nonchalant, but the gleam in her eyes tells Sam that she’s clearly been thinking about this for some time now. Sam pauses, knife hovering over the half chopped carrots on the cutting board in front of him, eyes flicking suspiciously over to his sister. She gives him an innocent smile and pushes an unopened bag of baby carrots towards him. “Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes,” Sam asks, but it doesn’t come out as a question. His brow furrows, thinking it over. “What makes you think that?” Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

The Captain and the Soldier by PoliZ Square filled: N1 - Fairytale AU Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Double Drabble, Fairy Tale Style, Prose Poem, Outsider POV Summary: Once upon a time, there were two men -- one dark-haired, one light, one strong and one sickly. These two men had loved each other since before they knew what love meant. Format: double drabble

Making All Things New - Chapter 1 by PoliZ Square filled: N3 - FREE Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply, Sex work Major tags: A/B/O dynamics, Cap!Steve/Modern!Bucky, Sex Worker!Bucky, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Bucky, Summary: As an employee of the Omega Hospitality Foundation, it's Bucky's job to assist alphas with their ruts in a discreet and professional manner. But he never expected to have Captain America as one of his clients. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

Surrender (But Don’t Give Yourself Away) by PoliZ Square filled: O1 - Identity Porn Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Cap!Steve/modern!Bucky/civilian!Tony, Rich!Tony, Identity Porn, Praise Kink, mild Dom/sub, Hookups, M/M/M Threesome, Summary: Steve was tired of playing the big, strong hero, the one who had to make hard choices. He needed someone who had no idea who he was telling him what to do … and that he was a good boy for doing it. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

The Cure by andrea1717 Square filled: O2 - Hunter Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Blood and Violence, Zombie Apokalypse, mention of a dead pet Major tags: Alternative Universe- Zombie Apokalypse, Action, Getting to know each other Summary: In a world destroyed by a zombie virus Steve Rogers will do everything to find a cure. Even kidnap a doctor to get into a hidden part of a hospital laboratory. Format: Long oneshot (over 5000 words)

Fic by Jimothy Square filled: G5 - Artist/Muse Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Fluff Summary: It’s just a coincidence that Steve’s new boyfriend and the old classmate he modeled his comic book character after, look somewhat alike. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

Thunderclap by smutconnoisseur Square filled: B1 - Hurt/Comfort Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, blood, open ending, dark!fic, Major tags: Whump, Open ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Summary: Bucky finishes checking storm precautions at Barnes Bed & Breakfast, but is startled by a sudden knocking at the door. With no guests due to flooding, he investigates the noise with growing apprehension. Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

Daddy’s Little Honey Bear (Chapter 3: Buck-Buck Arrives) by Otpcutie Square filled: N3 - Free square Ao3 rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply, Nonsexual ageplay, Daddy kink Major tags: Nonsexual ageplay, found family, little space, polyamory, Caregiver/little Summary: Tony has been working too hard, so his Daddy (Steve) ensures he takes a break and enjoys some little time. Bucky comes home early to spend time with them as well. In this fic Steve, Bucky and Tony are in a polyamorous V relationship with Steve as the hinge. (Steve and Bucky are married, while Tony is in a QPR and nonsexual Cg/l dynamic with Steve.) Format: Part of a multichapter fic

[stuckylibrary]

Hey guys! I was just curious if you had any recommendations for any Cinderella AU's. I just read a beauty and the beast one and now I want to read a Cinderella one. Thanks!!!

Found you these:

Fairytale of New York by themortalartist (WIP | 9,728 | M)

Once Upon a Time Steve Rogers was a slave in the house of Hydra. His mother’s death leaving him behind to face a life of violence and torment alone until one night, when everything changes. This is a story of triumph, letters, blood, magic, and most of all - love.

Or: A Cinderella Story: Avengers Edition where Steve is Cinderella, Bucky is a Prince, Hydra mob vs. Avengers mob, and there is definitely a happy ending because my ship deserves the effing world.

The Risk of Being Seen by Brumeier (oneshot | 2,617 | T)

Bucky had been against the party from the start, but then he met Steve. When Steve runs off, Bucky is determined to find him.

Part 3 of Fairly Marvelous Tales

Please, Not Another Cinderella Story* by Brixildleon (WIP | 16,782 | T) *chose not to warn

Bucky just wants to finish his senoir year to go to Berklee and finally get out of the life of his horrible Stepdad and Stepbrothers. it is just one more year. however what he doesnt expect is to meet in the Halloween party a misterious and charming guy who turns out to be Steve Rogers, one of the most famous youg actors of hollywood.

or bucky is cinderella, Steve is prince charming. there is music fluff some angst. is the au no one asked for.

Part 3 of No Words to Say I Love You

A Distance Erased with the Greatest of Ease* by dragongirlG (complete | 12,514 | E) *chose not to warn, heed the tags

It's been six years since Bucky lost his title, his wealth, and his freedom in an ill-fated bandit attack that left his family and friends dead. Now, he works in his old family estate as a slave to Lord Alexander Pierce and his two retainers, Sir Brock and Sir Jack, who treat Bucky as little more than an animal due to his omega designation.

When word comes that Crown Prince Steven is hosting a ball to choose a mate, Lord Pierce seizes his chance to pay off his debts by making Bucky seduce the Prince and bear his child. Unbeknownst to Lord Pierce, Prince Steven is actually Bucky's childhood friend, Steven Grant Rogers, who took on a new name after recovering from the bandit attack. Steve spots Bucky at the ball and escorts him outside to talk privately, setting off a chain of events that changes all their lives forever.

A Stucky A/B/O Cinderella AU featuring omega Bucky who's got a stronger will than anyone knows, gentle and righteous alpha Steve, scheming bastard Alexander Pierce, and a well-deserved happy ending. Cross-fill for Stucky Bingo 2019 (square: "A/B/O") and Hurt/Comfort Bingo Round 10 (square: "scars").

A stucky Cinderella tale* by Awritinghufflepuff (oneshot | 2,799 | G) *graphic violence

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Bucky He lived in a big house , with his stephmother and stephsisters, who used him as their work Force.

-The prince smiled at him, and his eyes were such a vibrant blue that Bucky was shook for a moment. "Will you do me the honour of having your first dance tonight?" The prince asked him. "It would be my pleasure." Bucky breathed. That earned him a sweet smile from the prince and after they said goodbye for now, Bucky hurried to the balcony to get some fresh air and calm his beating heart. A grin breaking out on his face as he whispered to himself. "He wants to dance with me."

All I Need is a Miracle by ClaraxBarton (WIP | 18,305 | E)

So maybe Bucky has a shit job, and a bad apartment, and no real prospects for better versions of either of those. But he's alive and he's...the point is, he's alive. But then his best friend sets him up on a blind date with a hot, bearded asshole and being alive isn't good enough anymore.

A riff on the Cinderella fairy tale. And a gift fic for a very special someone and their birthday.

Magic and Endurance* by duh_stiel (complete | 22,372 | G) *chose not to warn

"Hear ye! Hear ye! Know that on this day our new king here by declares his love For the mysterious blonde bachelor as wore white satin gloves and who called himself Steven. And requests that he presents himself at the palace immediately, Whereupon, if he be willing, his royal majesty shall forthwith marry him."

--

Trigger warnings include slow beginnings and cliches. ;)

The Perfect Fit by HeartzKittens (oneshot | 4,035 | T) *chose not to warn

Stucky Cinderella AU

Soon As I Held You* by morrezela (oneshot | 15,211 | not rated) *graphic violence

The only certainty that Bucky felt about his life was that it was horrible. Memories failed him and whatever he had was quickly stripped away by his stepfather and brothers. But he was a person once, and King Steven Rogers had never forgotten him. A Cinderella AU

Trials* by kateodinson (oneshot | 6,329 | T) *chose not to warn

“Bucky brought his face closer to Steve’s, cupping his face in his hand, oblivious to the rain pouring over both of them.” Pre-serum Steve and Bucky in New York AU. Loosely based on Cinderella.

a dream is a wish your heart makes* by liionne (WIP | 1,905 | T) *chose not to warn

James finds, suddenly, that they’re rather close. He doesn’t know when Stevie’s horse settled beside his, but it has, and James finds himself looking into this sky blue eyes and losing himself, for just a second. His heart is heavy with loss and anguish, his stomach roiling with anger and discontent, but he feels almost lighter. How long the affect will last, he does not know. He’ll just have to hope it stays for long after their meeting.

Magic follows courage by mtothedestiel (complete | 27,053 | E)

A Cinderella AU. Steve is as kind and brave as his body is frail and sickly, which is to say very. Meanwhile, Prince Bucky must marry for the good of his kingdom, but he knows he will never find love with a princess. Can courage, and a little magic, help Steve attend a ball, and Prince Bucky find his True Love?

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes by anger_ieJ9 (oneshot | 8,550 | G)

The first in a line of Disney AUs: Cinderella. Rogerella, if you will. Steve's mother dies, leaving him with a stepfather that's waiting for his pathetic body to do itself in so he can claim the inheritance. There's a ball, a fairy godfather, and a handsome prince.

Part 1 of Not the Stories you Remember

[barnesandco]

Little Hands (II)

Series Masterlist

You, Bucky, and Anastasia pay Bruce Banner a visit. 

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 1836. Square filled: “You don’t wanna know.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Sad Child. Needles, fear of. So much overthinking.

A/N: Gosh, I’m so glad I got this chapter edited in time. I hope you like it and I’m sorry for skipping out on y’all last week! To make up for it, there’ll be two updates this weekend, so look out for the next chapter tomorrow! Lmk what you thinkkkk

The Avengers Compound is every bit as spectacular as you could have possibly hoped, and yet you’re unable to fully appreciate it because of the sheer absurdity of the situation. Your hand is in the vice-tight grip of the supposed daughter of your neighbor, who happens to be an Avenger.

Said neighbor is pacing back and forth in front of you as you sit in Bruce Banner’s laboratory, with Anastasia beside you while you wait for Bruce to arrive. Ana is remarkably calm, her young features – the round cheeks, still-wet eyes – made mature by her abnormal silence. Something about her makes you think she’s used to this kind of tension. Something about her screams war-child. Perhaps this grip she has on you is the first demand she has made in a long time, the only tantrum she has ever been allowed to throw.

While you aren’t particularly experienced with children, you think you want her to feel safe with you, because it seems she hasn’t been elsewhere. Ana’s eyes flit around the room in the only behavioral indication of her youth – a childlike curiosity, shining in the face of this fancy, new place that gleams like a toy store. Every now and then, her gaze jumps back from the alien appearance of the lab to her father (?) who seems intent on wearing a hole in the tiles with his pacing.

It is beginning to wear on you: both Bucky’s pacing and Ana’s steadily increasing anxiety. He hasn’t said a word to her since he opened the envelope, only asked that you accompany him to the Compound seeing as Ana won’t go alone with him (You would have gone with him even if that hadn’t been so. Though the nature of your relationship is ambiguous at times, the strength of your friendship is not. You’ll figure this out. You won’t leave him alone). Clearly, there is some unspoken memory that has him convinced the claim in the letter is plausible. Neither of you would be here if it wasn’t.

Bucky doesn’t talk too much about his past. He has offered a few of the shattered shards of his past reflection to you in the few night-caped moments you have hammered on his door upon hearing shouts across the hall. Between that, and what you know thanks to Black Widow’s file dump, the big Avengers’ in-fight in Europe last summer, the consequent resolution to the Accords, and Bucky’s publicized pardon, you can guess at the traumas that lurk in the depths of him.

They’re traumas that are closer to the surface of his eyes now, pulled forth by this new life, this little soul that has no business with such dark things, and the implication that this holds. Ana, innocent as she may be, is an insinuation of what else might have been unwillingly torn from Bucky.

You don’t want to think about it, because it hurts to do so, because you care for him, in many, many ways. It seems that Anastasia is also starting to tire of it. With every step Bucky takes, her hand tightens on yours. Fortunately, soon, the door to your left opens, and Bruce Banner enters his lab.

He's appropriately disheveled for this hour in the morning. Under his pristine lab coat, one of his shirt buttons is done into the wrong buttonhole, but his eyes are alert, frantic even, though you get the feeling that this is a man always on the edge of escape.

Bucky lets out a breath he seems to have been holding at the same time as his shoulders tense. “Thanks for coming so early, Doctor Banner. I wouldn’t have called if—”

“You never call, so I know it must have been important. But it looks like I’ve kept you waiting anyways,” Banner says, his eyes widening as they move from Bucky, to you, to the little girl at your side. “What’s the matter? You know I’m not a medical doctor, right?” He asks, putting a work bench between himself and his visitors.

Bucky clears his throat, and doesn’t quite know how to say what he needs to. After a few more seconds of hesitation, in which Banner waits patiently, Bucky extracts the envelope containing the fateful letter from his pocket, and hands it over.

The furrows in Doctor Banner’s brow multiply spontaneously, and when he looks up, Bucky gestures with a subtle nod of his head to Ana. He has yet to explain your presence, but you think Doctor Banner is a smart man. It won’t take more than Anastasia’s tight hold on you for him to put two and two together. Sometimes, a scared child is just that, no matter how unusual.

Most of their ensuing conversation is held at a lowered volume, set by Bucky, probably out of courtesy for Ana. You can hear snatches and phrases, most of them confirmations of things you had expected and some, not so much. Lobby security cam footage… fingerprints… paternity test… serum… blood sample…

By the end of it, some facsimile of a plan seems to have evolved between the two men, because Doctor Banner turns away with a smile and you, taking it as a welcome, stand and approach him. He rounds his desk and shakes your hand, exchange introductions though he hardly needs one, and then, he crouches, the way Bucky had, and offers Ana his hand.

“Hi, I’m Bruce.”

“Ana.”

Bucky steps forward. “Anastasia—” the name is clumsy on his tongue, because he’s scared. You can see it, and you hope he knows you are, too, but you’ll stand with him regardless, “—Bruce is going to check that you aren’t sick.”

“I’m okay.”

“We need to be sure.”

“Okay.”

Banner pulls out a chair, and you’re about to sit Ana down on it, when she pushes you gently into it, and sits on your lap. You can do nothing but wrap your arms gently around her, so she doesn’t fall. The apology in Bucky’s eyes is melted with a sympathetic smile. It’s alright. A child developing an inexplicable affection for you is not the worst thing to ever happen to you.

Ana is warm and a comfortable weight on you, and you hold her as loosely as you can, feel the movement of her chest against your arms with each breath. Her hair is a mix of wool-thick and silk-soft against your chin, smelling faintly of the sugar-sweet strawberry scent found in children’s shampoos. Someone took care of her.

Someone she isn’t asking for. What kind of child doesn’t ask for their mother, past the initial, momentary heartbreak? How has she come to terms with the apparent change in custody, when the new custodian hasn’t?

Whether Bucky is to be the new guardian has yet to be determined. You can see Bruce pulling out a syringe and preparing a vial. You wonder if she’s scared of needles. Bucky flinches at the sight of them, even now. He’s said that his disdain for the cold clinicism of medicine dates back to long before Hydra. Medical equipment reminds him of worrying that his best friend was going to die. It’s the fear he has harbored longest, longer than his fear of war, of gunshots in the dark, of blood on his hands.

Ana shares it. When she sees the needle, she screams, and Bucky lunges forward to help you hold her in place. She’s so, so much stronger than you thought and while you can hold her limbs, her head thrashes about, and so does her torso, making it impossible for Bruce to get to the inside of her elbow.

In the chaos, your eye lands on a trinket on a nearby desk, sitting there like a peace offering, literally beckoning to you. “Hey, Ana,” you whisper-yell, trying not to get hit in the jaw by her head. “Do you like animals? Cats? I have a friend who has lots and lots of cats, and I could take you to see them.” It’s working. You’re out of breath, but she’s quieting. Most little kids love cats. You love cats. “I think Bruce has a toy cat. See, over there?” You dare to lift an arm to point at the maneki-neko on the table. Ana stills. Her eyes follow the hypnotic movement, and the syringe at Ana’s elbow does its job.

When the bandage is put on, you and Bucky let go with twin nervous chuckles of relief and disbelief, and Bruce puts the vial in a machine. Ana hops off to approach the desk, and bats at the paw waving at her like a mirror of it.

“We should have the results soon. I think the others are starting to wake up, if you want to say hi,” Bruce says, taking off his glasses and wiping them on the corner of his lab coat.

“Maybe later,” you say, seeing that Bucky is hardly in any position to converse casually with his teammates right now. Not to mention, it’d be a lot of work to explain Ana, especially before having any sort of confirmation of who she is.

Bucky pulls out a chair next to you while Bruce opens a laptop a few counters away, and an x-ray machine lifts its head behind Ana, who has moved on from the lucky cat, and is stroking the leaves of a flowering plant.

“Peace lily,” Bucky says, startling you. You look at him, the bags under his eyes, the way he almost looks his age right now, and fight the urge to hold his hand. “It’s the first flower I bought for my apartment. I put it in a community garden after a nightmare about the war. Didn’t feel right for me to have it.”

He's talking about the Second World War. The war always refers to his first war. You think he’s talking about peace, and not the lily, after what he’s done. After what he was forced to do.

“It’s not your fault,” is an automatic response, and never enough, especially for the war, because at least he was in his own senses, even if he was drafted. It always elicits a self-deprecating laugh, but right now, he’s too tired for even that.

Right now, he can only watch as the x-ray camera follows Ana around the room, from the peace lilies, to an Amazon elephant’s ear, to a strange sculpture made from Coca-Cola cans glued together by what looks like spider-webs.

Too soon, Bruce calls you over to his work station. You follow Bucky, one eye on Ana.

“She’s yours,” Bruce says, and Bucky inhales sharply. Now, you do take his hand, stroke the metal ridges with your calloused thumb. “But she has disproportionately more of your DNA than her mother’s.”

“What does that mean?”

Bruce wrings his hands. “She’s not a complete clone, but nearly a genetic copy. 80% of a clone, if you will.”

Bucky is growing increasingly uncomfortable, shifting next to you. “How’s that possible?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

[reidgraygubler]

going in blind (luke alvez/reader)

{image id: gif of luke alvez holding two long sleeved button ups, the one on the left is gray and the one on the right is blue. A german shepard is in the foreground. the caption reads “the blue or the grey? hmm?” end image id}

Title: Going In Blind

Request: No

Couple: Luke Alvez with Visually Impaired Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), mentions of service/guide animals, mentions of serving in the army, brief mentions of PTSD, blind/visually impared!reader, if I missed anything or something else needs to be tagged, please message me and I will fix that! 

Word Count: 2,885

Summary: Penelope sets Luke up on a blind date with one of her friends… What could possibly go wrong…?

Author’s Note: Welcome to day two of my 7 fics in 7 days event! We have more firsts with this piece of work. I tried my hardest to make this be screen reader-friendly, if this has any problems with that, please let me know. This also blocks off a square on my third (i know) bingo card. It’s for the blind date square on the @cmbingo​ card! Thank you all so much for the love and support!  Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Are you on tinder?” Penelope asked, looking over Luke’s shoulder. Luke was quick, jumping as he put his phone face down on his desk. 

“What? No!” He looked over at his friend and colleague. He swallowed roughly, knowing that there was no way out of this one. Penelope already had the tools to find the truth. There was really no use hiding that from a woman like Penelope. Even if she wasn’t one of the best hackers he knew, Penelope would have worked it out of him no matter what. 

“It looked like you were on tinder, Newbie,” she glared at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. Luke looked down at his phone for a brief moment, before looking up at his friend.

“He’s definitely doing something,” Spencer chimed in, looking away from his book. “He’s been picking up his phone and looking at it every other minute. That’s not an exaggeration,” he spoke looking back down at his book. Penelope looked back down at Luke with an excited smile. 

“Yes, fine, I was on Tinder. It’s been awhile since things ended with Lisa and I wanted to… put myself out there, as some would say,” Luke spoke as he gestured towards his phone, “and, tinder is a viable way of doing that,” he looked up at his friend and shrugged. 

“What if I set you up on a blind date?" Penelope smiled as she looked down at her co-worker. 

“I… I guess… you can do that," he replied, furrowing his eyebrows. He wasn't too sure what to expect from Penelope when it came to a blind date. 

“Oh sweetness! I know the perfect person!” Penelope clapped her hands together as she looked back at Luke. "I'll give them your number! And then you guys can plan a date or something!" she looked down at her friend with excitement. 

{***}

"Roxy, blue or gray?" Luke looked at the German Shepard that was sitting on his bed. Roxy tilted her head to the side as she looked at her owner. Luke groaned as he looked at his pet, tossing both the shirts to his bed. He looked at the two clothing items before picking up the navy blue shirt and holding it to his chest. 

“Blue might be best. Who doesn’t love blue?” he looked over at Roxxy with a smile before changing into the shirt. “Alright, Roxxy, wish me luck,” Luke whispered as he rubbed the dog’s head. With one last look at the animal, Luke left, hoping to make it there on time. 

Unfortunately for him, time was not on his side and traffic ended up being his new friend. And when he did finally make it to the restaurant, he was a few minutes late. He rushed to the table, hoping they’d still be there.

“So sorry I’m late, I was trying to pick what color of shirt to wear and then traffic was a nightmare on the way here,” Luke chuckled as he sat down at the table across from them. They smiled and nodded, folding their hands over the table.

“Oh, oh it’s okay, really. I was a little nervous myself,” they laughed as they lifted a hand to their chest as they spoke. Luke looked at them and smiled. He silently prayed that this date wouldn’t crash and burn like previous dates he had been on.

But, little did he know, they were doing the same thing. They couldn’t even count how many dates they had gone on that failed harder than a teen who didn’t study for a test. They went into this date expecting it to have a bad outcome.

“Which color did you pick?” they asked like it was no big deal, like maybe he already knew the biggest, most obvious fact about them. They would have assumed that Penelope told him.

“Well, I, uh, I wore the blue shirt… I wasn’t sure which color to wear,” Luke laughed, watching as they started playing with their hands. 

“So that’s what color it is,” they laughed lightly before blinking. The smile they had on their lips was very genuine. They were excited. Of course they were excited, someone was going on a date with them. And, so far so good, right?

Or, so they thought...

“I don’t… I don’t get it… Am I missing something,” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at them. They had their hands resting in their lap. As a certain nervousness took over, they began pulling at their fingers, popping each knuckle. 

“Did Penelope not tell you,” they nervously chuckled, blinking slowly as they shifted in their seat. 

“Tell me…? Tell me what?” 

“I’m blind,” they chuckled again. The silence that fell between both of them was tense. It was obvious that Luke had no clue that they were blind. Of course, they went into this blind date knowing whoever it was might not have known it was a literal blind date. It wouldn’t have been the first, or last, time Penelope left that detail out. 

“Oh… Oh… I’m… I’m so sorry,” Luke muttered as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They laughed and shook their head.

“It’s okay. Really, it’s fine. I knew Penelope probably didn’t tell you,” they chuckled lightly before shrugging.

“I don’t know why Penelope didn’t mention that you… you’re blind,” Luke laughed as he brought his glass to his lips. They laughed and shook their head.

“I honestly wouldn’t put it past her… Wouldn’t be the first time she’s done that to me,” they smiled, reaching their hand out to feel for their glass of water. “Well, I’m not totally blind. I can see shapes if they’re being backlit. So, like if someone was standing in front of the sun,” their smiled and nodded before bringing the glass to their lips. After taking a sip, they carefully placed the cup back on the table. “Does that make sense?” they cocked their head to the side.

“Yeah, yeah it makes sense,” Luke nodded as he looked at them, “So, I picked a pretty good spot then, huh?” he asked as he realized that he was facing away from the sun. 

“Well, I was the one who picked the spot, silly,” they couldn’t help but laugh. Luke felt somewhat comforted by their laughter, laughing lightly in return. “I knew the window seat would help me in that. It’s nice having the shape of my date,” they kept laughing. In their head that made sense, but thinking back about it now, they weren’t too sure if it made sense out loud. 

“How… How did you go blind? If you don’t mind me asking,” Luke asked, his voice soft as he spoke. He wasn’t too sure if it was insensitive to ask that, but he was genuinely curious. If he didn’t find out through them, he would have just asked Penelope. 

“Oh, uh, yeah you can ask,” they laughed again. Luke smiled, it was clear he really liked their laughter. Part of him was happy they couldn’t see how he looked at them. But the other part of him was upset that he couldn’t share the same things he saw with them. “I went blind when I was really young. I was like 5. If it wasn’t a million dollar word that you probably didn’t understand, I’d say it. But, I basically went blind because of an illness,” they smiled and nodded. 

“Wow, I… I can’t even imagine…” Luke started but let his words trail off. Of course, how would anyone ever imagine being blind at such a young age? But they’ve heard that from so many people, and not just people they went on dates with, but friends, nurses, strangers on the street, and even family. They didn’t let it bother them though. 

“Yeah, the number of times I’ve heard that,” they shrugged as they reached out for their glass of water again, ���Trust me, it’s fine. I’ve been blind all my life, basically. I’m like a professional at it or something,” a small snicker came from them. 

“Do you have a service animal?” Luke asked, watching as they expertly placed their water back down. 

“His name is Pickles,” they smiled as they dropped their head down, “He’s a Labradoodle,” they felt happiness spread through their body as they talked more about their pet. Although, he was more than just a pet, than just a dog to them. Pickles was basically their best friend and family. 

“I bet your Pickles and my Roxxy would be great friends,” Luke enthused with a laugh. Their head jerked up as if they looked at him the second he mentioned having a dog. 

“Is Roxy a service animal?” they asked, resting their hands on the table. Luke smiled and nodded.

“Roxy helps with my PTSS…” he supplied a proper answer when he realized they didn’t see the nod. 

“Oh my goodness,” they whispered, a sudden anxiety grew in their stomach as they thought of what to say next. But, they didn’t really know what to say. 

“It’s all good now. Roxy’s my best friend. I’d be lost without her,” Luke swallowed roughly before nodding again.

“When did you serve? Where did you serve?” they asked, cocking their head to their shoulder. 

“Uh, several years ago now. I served as part of the 75th Rangers  in Iraq… with the U.S. Army,” his words got quiet as he spoke, but they were just loud enough for them to hear. They smiled and nodded.

“Thank you for your service, Luke,” the date whispered with a soft smile, “And now you work for the FBI."

“Yep! And now I work for the FBI,” Luke laughed and nodded, “Wouldn’t trade it for anything. My team is like my family,” 

“You know, that wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard somebody say that. Penelope speaks so fondly of you,” his companion smiled as they ran their hand across the tablecloth. Their shoulders relaxed as they felt the fabric beneath their fingertips. “Well, she speaks fondly of everyone she knows, so I suppose it’s hard to judge that. But, she does talk about you and your team a lot. More often than anything else. Other than Sergio, of course,” they laughed, which in turn caused Luke to laugh. 

“You’re not wrong. She really does talk about everyone she meets like they’ve done no wrong,” he agreed with a soft laugh. 

“Which is impressive in her line of work, because of everything she sees. But I think that’s something Penelope and I have in common. I think too good of people. I think it would be too hard to work in the FBI, though,” they wrinkled their nose. “I’ve met some pretty shitty people but not serial killers… Not that bad,” they shrugged and dropped their shoulders. 

Thankfully the moment was saved when the waitress came up to the table and took Luke and his date’s order. Playing it safe, they got spaghetti with sauce and cheese. Where as Luke ordered steak with vegetables. 

“That sounds yummy. Hopefully it’s as good as it sounds,” they smiled and nodded. “Sorry I was intense about talking nice about other people. I don’t know. Working for the FBI sounds like it’d be cool, but very exhausting.” 

“It is… It can be mentally and emotionally draining,” Luke nodded as he leaned over the table, resting his elbows on the edge to keep himself up. “But, it makes up for itself… See people be reunited with their families… It’s worth it then,” he nodded as he thought about previous cases he worked on. 

“I’d never be able to do that,” they blinked before shaking their head, “I don’t know how Penelope does it,” 

“A lot of courage. She surprises me everyday,” he laughed. This time it was their turn to appreciate his laughter. Though they couldn’t exactly see his face, they could imagine what was in front of them. The happiness and love he had for a friend. Luke’s date loved that he loved his friends like they were family. 

“Anyways, enough about me and my work…” Luke cleared his throat as he watched his date rest their elbows on the table. “Tell me about you. Like, uh… What kind of music do you listen to?” he raised an eyebrow.

{***}{***}{***}

“You should have taken her seriously when she said blind date," Luke’s date chuckled lightly as the two of them walked down a cobblestone path. Their arm carefully rested on Luke's as they walked. Their other hand held their cane, tapping it across the ground in front of them. 

"I agree, wasn't expecting it to be a literal blind date," Luke returned the chuckle, "But I had fun," he added as he looked down at his date.

"I did too. I'm kinda glad Penelope didn't tell you I'm blind," they laughed nervously. Truth be told, they were scared Luke would have ditched them. It’s happened before, what's not stopping it from happening again? They couldn't count how many times it has happened.

Luke abruptly stopped in his tracks as he looked down at his date. It caught them off guard, forcing them to turn and face him.

"What? Why'd we stop? Did something happen?" As the grip they had on his arm softened a little bit, the grip on their cane tightened. A certain fear filled their body, not sure what was happening at the moment.

"You know…” Luke started, pausing for a moment to find his words. The date pulled their hand from Luke’s arm as they turned to face him more. “I would have come whether Penelope told me you were blind or not," he continued, lifting a hand and resting it on their shoulder. They jumped slightly, not expecting the friendly gesture. 

“I know… Well, actually, I don’t know. Because you wouldn’t be the first person to say that to me,” they swallowed roughly before dropping their head to the ground, “The number of failed dates I’ve gone on… Is a little embarrassing… And, the number of people who knew I was blind before the date and ditched… Is even worse,” they whispered as they stepped back away from Luke. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his date. He couldn’t figure out why someone would ditch someone as cool as them. So what if they couldn’t see as well as others, or at all? They still deserved to be treated like a normal human. 

“You don’t deserve that,” he muttered as he stared at his date. They smiled and nodded, already knowing that. “And, frankly, this is the best date I’ve been on in a long time,” 

“I’m glad to hear that. It was a pretty good date for me too,” they smiled, as their hand returned to his arm. “Where are we anyways?” they took a deep breath and shuffled closer to his body. 

“Down the street from your apartment,” he replied, looking down the street. 

“Did Penelope give you my address?” they tilted their head up to him as they spoke. Luke’s date wouldn’t put it past Penelope, honestly. They expected it. 

“Yeah, she said I should pick you up. But you said you would take an Uber…” he replied with a nod, “When we left the restaurant, I parked a few blocks away from your apartment, so we could walk… And so this date wouldn’t end,” he laughed lightly. His date couldn’t stop the large smile growing on their lips, feeling their heart pitter-pattering quickly in their chest. 

“You really mean that,” they stopped tapping their cane across the ground as they began trusting Luke. 

“We'll have to do this again,” his date laughed as they turned to face Luke, “I had a lot of fun tonight,”  

“Of course I mean that. I told you...This is the best date I’ve been on in a while,” Luke laughed as he sensed their new level of trust in him.

“I wish this night didn’t have to end,” they said with a bubbly smile. Luke enjoyed the excitement of his date and hummed in agreement. Even though they both wished the night could keep going, the two walked in a comfortable and warm silence to their apartment.

“Yes! We will. Maybe we can walk Pickles and Roxy in the park,” Luke smiled as he looked down at them. 

And just as he got to the bottom step of the small staircase, he stopped for a brief moment before turning to his date. “I’ll see you later,” Luke smiled at them. 

“I won’t,” the blind date smiled as they rested their hand on the railing beside them. Luke froze when he realized his verbal mistake. His mouth opening slightly as he looked up at them with shock in his eyes.

“Aw man, I totally fudged that, didn’t I?” he pointed at the date before shoving his hands in his pockets. They laughed and shook their head.

“No, no, don’t worry. It’s fine. I thought it was funny. It happens all the time, actually,” them smiled and nodded, “I better let you go. It was nice meeting you, Luke,” they grasped their cane with both their hands as they turned to face him more.

“I’ll definitely call you,” 

“I’ll definitely text you,” the date grinned before turning and entering their apartment. 

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @mggsprettygirl​ , @thebluetint​

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Pink - Connor Rhodes x Reader

Tagging: @lapricot @stxrryswvrld @cosmic-psychickitty @rosaliedepp @mrspeacem1nusone @sowrongitslottie @crazy4chickennuggets @shepgurl @upsteadlogic @cixrosie @burningpeachpuppy @i-spaced-sorry @handsupforamiracle @slytherqueen14 @queenslandlover-93 @thebejeweledwatercat @voidsteffy @shakespeareanwannabe @cerealreblogger @aaronhtchnrs @mysoulisasunflower @vermillionwinter @thebaileybugle @kotlclover2021 @neapolitantoebeans @joyfulfxckery @wnbweasley @evee87 @celilice1 @one-sweet-gubler @wooshwastaken @anime-weeb-4-life @99-reasons-to-live @legit9thlunaticwarrior @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @witches-unruly-heart @infinity-mars @telepathay @iworldlywriter @nu1freakshow @nothinbtannika @whovianwholikesgirls @@angelicbxtch @altsvu @olymosity @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @district447 @sarahedwards16 @stelacole @abby-splace @kabloswrld @rawremodino

Hitting the Wearing Pink Bingo Square

When Connor first meets you, it’s in the Emergency Room on Valentine’s Day. You’re wearing a pink mini dress that barely covers your assets and fuck me heels. The left side of your face is smeared with blood, the vessels in your left eye an eruption of tiny starbursts. His heart sinks because there’s been a spate of attacks on working girls recently and he thinks he’s looking at a fresh victim.

He’s both right and wrong.

“Look after her alright?” Antonio Dawson tells him as you’re escorted into the medical bay. “She’s my partner.”

A cop then.

It doesn’t take a genius to work out that you were part of a sting to catch the guy whose been beating the hell out of those women.

“Did you get him?” Connor asks, pulling on a fresh set of latex gloves as you sit on the edge of the hospital bed.

Now that he’s up close, he realises it’s not as bad as he once thought. The blood seems to be coming from a cut above your eyebrow, it’s starting to slow at this point. It’s a big gash, he’ll have to have to stitch it. His work is neat, careful but you’re still going to have a scar, he thinks.

“He was in the ambulance behind me.” You inform him as he tilts your head up towards the light and begins to clean the crimson from your skin. “Trust me, he’s worse off than I am.”

He believes you. He can see the grazes across your knuckles as you flex and unflex your hand. Once he’s finished with the mop up he continues with the rest of his examination. He’s as gentle as he can be, his fingers poking and prodding the bones under and around your eye.

“Nothing’s broken.” He tells you as he draws away and busies himself removing the stitch kit from one of the stainless steel drawers in the corner of the bay. “ I’ll get you stitched up and then grab you something else to get changed into.”

It’s a professional courtesy and a human one. He knows that your night doesn’t end when you leave the hospital, you’ll be heading back to the precinct in order to complete your reports on the assault. He assumes you’d rather not do it in a blood stained mini dress.

“I’d appreciate that.” You tell him softly, looking down at the burgundy stains soaked into the fabric. “Antonio’s probably already waiting with the evidence bags.”

“I’m guessing this all came from the perp.” Connor says gesturing at your clothing.  

“I had a push knife.” You say by way of explanation, your gaze straying to the gap in the curtain. There’s a flurry of activity on the opposite side of the glass, you can see Choi barking orders as they angle the stretcher into the bay beside yours.  “I don’t think he’s coming back from that.”

“It depends where you got him.” Connor remarks as he begins the process of stitching your wound together.

“Neck.” You say quietly. “More than once.”

Connor doesn’t speak, his dark eyebrows furrow in concentration. You both know the guy in the next room probably isn’t going to make it.

“You must think I’m cold, the way I’m talking about killing a man.” You say softly, your gaze lowering to the cuts across your knuckles.

“No.” He says honestly as he finishes up his work, snipping the thread carefully. “I treated some of the other girls he hurt...”

He trails off, his mouth fixing into a grim line. You’re not the only one haunted by those girls, you can tell. You’ve seen the pictures, read the reports. He’s been up close with their pain, endured their suffering, their agony.

“I think you’re incredibly brave putting yourself out there like that, not a lot of people would.” He tells you, stripping off the gloves before tossing them into the medical waste bin.

You can read between the lines, you know what he’s not saying. These victims, they’re on the fringes of society, the people that others don’t give a shit about. He’ll be the first to admit he’s jaded, he didn’t expect the police to actually do anything about the problem, a waste of resources he had overheard one cop saying when he was working on the last girl.

“These women.” You say, shaking your head. “They’re just trying to put food on the table, support their families. They don’t deserve what happened to them.”

When he looks back he realises it’s your compassion that he fell in love with, your ability to see the person underneath all the noise. He sees it over and over again throughout the course of your relationship.

He isn’t sure why he’s replaying the day he met you, he thinks it’s because the fleece pyjamas you’re wearing are the same colour as the dress you were clad in that night. The two of you are tucked up in bed together, your body draped across his like a weighted blanket. His palms smooth over your clothing as he holds you close, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. He had never envisioned that it would end up like this, that the woman he met that night would become the one that devoted himself to, the one that he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[justnerdthings]

New Beginnings Ch. 13

F!Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao

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@ancientowlgirl @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @shang-hung

Lao was right. You were a badass. No one had ever said that to you before. You had never even considered it. But, he was right. Finally realizing it, it gave you a much needed boost of confidence. A smile had been plastered to your face as you walked with Lao through the halls.

He’d decided to cut the Tai Chi lesson short. He didn’t want to push you too hard. He’d never hear the end of it if he did. Liu would never let that go. The first day back to training you, and he’d hurt you again? No. Liu would be absolutely livid if that happened. Instead, Lao had decided to walk you to the bathhouse. His eyes watched you as you walked with him, making notes of how you rolled your shoulders and neck every so often. You must have still been stiff. Hopefully the hot water would help relax you.

Thankfully, the awkwardness of his feelings for you had faded. You seemed comfortable with him--a welcomed change from last week. He smiled as you told him about New York, but couldn’t help the confusion that came over him when you began talking about your favorite fast food.

“So you’re telling me, that people actually pay to eat food that makes them sick?” Lao asked, laughing.

You nodded with a grin. “Taco Bell really does taste that good.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t make everyone sick though. Never made me sick.”

“Maybe you have an iron stomach.”

“Or an iron ass,” you jested with a chuckle.

Lao laughed in his disgust. “If we’re ever around a Taco Bell, remind me not to eat there.”

“Okay, but I’m eating there. It’s my favorite.”

Lao shook his head, grinning. “Any other favorites that don’t make people sick?”

“Wendy’s.”

“Who?”

You laughed and shook your head. “It’s another fast food place. It’s literally called Wendy’s.”

“Oh. What are they like?”

“You’ve heard of Burger King and McDonalds, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Kinda like them. But better.”

He laughed. “Better how?”

You struggled to find the words. “It’s just… better. It’s different. Different atmosphere. Their burgers are square.”

“Do square burgers taste better?”

“Theirs do.”

He laughed again and shook his head.

“That reminds me. Why don’t you guys eat meat?”

“Hm?” He turned his head to look at you. He shrugged. “Just never did, I guess. Liu did before he joined the temple. I was raised in it, so I never really had the opportunity growing up.”

“What about when you get out of here to do something for Raiden?”

He shrugged again. “Just don’t feel like it, I guess.”

“Would you though?”

Lao thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why don’t monks eat meat?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It has to do with Buddhism.”

“What? Like how Muslims don’t eat pork?”

He nodded and pointed at you. “Bingo.”

“Huh…” You could see that. Buddhism was about respecting all life. Animals were alive.

“What about you? Anything you won’t eat?” He asked.

“Tripe.”

“Tripe?”

“Tripe.” You nodded.

“What’s that?”

“Sheep’s stomach, or something like that.”

Lao showed his disgust. “What?”

“It’s gross.”

“Noted,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Mangos.”

“Mangos?” he laughed. “Why? They’re delicious.”

“Oh, I know. I love them.”

“Then why wont you eat them?”

“I’m allergic.”

Lao was silent as he stared at you, as if expecting you to say it was a joke. But when you didn’t laugh, or even smirk, he frowned. “Wait. Really?”

You nodded.

“But you said you love them.”

You nodded again and glanced to him with a slight grimace.

It clicked. He sighed and shook his head as he looked forward. “You eat them anyway, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Won't you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah. My throat swells up if I eat too much.”

Lao looked up at the ceiling and couldn’t help the disbelieving chuckle that escaped him. “You’d eat something that could kill you just because it tastes good?”

“Only a little.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“And yet, you believe me.” You grinned and stopped at the entrance to the bath house. You turned to look at him, but he’d turned and walked past you into the bath house. You stared after him.

Unfortunately, the temple was the home of The Order Of Light. Which was an order of monks. Monks. Not monks and nuns. Monks. There was no female section of the bath house. It wasn’t usually a problem because ever since your first visit to the bath house, any monks present would quickly leave to give you your privacy… But Kung Lao was going right in.

“You coming?” Lao called back, stopping to look back to you.

“Um… No. It’s okay. You can go first.”

Lao raised a brow. “What? C’mon, it’ll be fine.” But when you didn’t move, he sighed. “It’s big enough for the both of us to not see each other. You take one side, I’ll take the other.”

You thought about it for a bit before stepping forward to follow him in.

The bath house was a huge curved cavern. It had a large hot spring spanning the cavern, and a few smaller ones surrounding it. There were older lockers here and there for everyone to use. And there were baskets placed strategically around, filled with clean towels. Monks that were already bathing had noticed you walk in, and just as each time before, quickly climbed out of the pools and changed. You’d turned your back and stepped into a corner to avoid looking and give them their privacy. The last one to leave had told you he was, and you gave him a minute longer to leave before finally turning around.

Kung Lao was grinning at you.

“I really hate having to interrupt them,” you admitted.

He shrugged. “Their loss.”

You flushed and back handed his shoulder. He just laughed then nodded to the cavern’s bend. “You take the other side. I’ll take this one and stop any monks that come in.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Monks had walked in on you before. It wasn’t their fault. You were the only woman in this temple. Of course they’d occasionally forget about you. You nodded to Lao and walked off to the other end of the spring, hidden behind the corner… still, knowing Kung Lao was just on the other side made you nervous. He was mischievous. What if he snuck a peak?!

No. No, he wasn’t that much of a jerk. He wasn’t even much of a jerk now that he wasn’t testing you anymore. He was still a handful, and probably too confident for his own good, but you two hadn’t fought all day. A first.

You dragged in a deep breath, taking in the salty air. That was one thing you couldn’t help but ask a couple baths ago. A monk had told you that the ravine was in a salt desert, and the water in the springs was saltwater. But not like the ocean. Cleaner. And warm like a hot tub. You slipped out of your shoes and gi… And off came your underwear after staring at the corner for a while, making sure the coast was clear before you stepped into the pool.

You stayed near the edge and lowered yourself until the water came up to your neck. God, that felt so good. The hot water melted tension from your back and shoulders in the most welcoming way. You sighed in relaxation as you rested your head back against the rocks. The dense saltwater made you feel weightless and you let your arms float just below the surface. This was easily your favorite place in the temple. You woke to water burning your nose. Splashing, sitting up, you choked and coughed up water. Oh god, your sinuses were on fire. You’d sunk a bit too far in the water. You must have dozed off.

“You okay?!” Lao’s voice called over.

You tried to answer, but choked again.

“Y/N!”

You gasped and called out a strained, “Yeah!”

“What happened?” His voice sounded closer, as if he was just around the bend.

You hacked some saltwater up. “Nothing!” You choked again and blew out your nose hard, trying to clear the water from your sinuses. “Just almost drowning!”

Lao was quiet for a bit. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked cautiously.

You nodded, then quickly remembered he couldn’t see it. Duh. “Yeah. Fine.” You blew out your nose again and winced. It burned so bad.

“Alright…”

“Sorry. I’m good.”

You could hear him chuckle. It echoed through the cavern.

“Of all the things that could take me out…” You set up the coming joke. You always joked when you were nervous. You could hear him chuckle again. “Here lies Y/N, taken out by a punk ass hot spring…”

He laughed openly. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself with him.

“You clean enough?” You asked. It was probably a good idea for you to get out before you actually did drown.

“Yeah, hold on.” He was still chuckling. You heard the splashing of what you assumed was him climbing out of the pool. You did the same and grabbed a towel to dry yourself off. It was a few minutes before he called over, “I’m good.”

You were as well by then. You walked to the corner and peaked around it. He had his pants on, but that was it. It was enough… right? He was rubbing a towel over his hair when you stepped into his view, and you did your best not to stare at him. Lao was cut. You assumed he was before, but now you knew. Now you could see it. He didn’t have an ounce of body fat on him. Just rock hard muscles. Did Liu have abs like that too?

Oh boy…

“You okay?” He broke the silence, noticing your vacant expression.

“Yeah. Great,” you answered quickly, walking past him. If he was behind you, you wouldn’t be able to see him… See those washboard abs. And he wouldn’t be able to see the red hue that absolutely covered your face. Even your ears were burning.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about those abs and how the edges of his obliques were practically an arrow right to his—

NO!

You clenched your eyes shut and quickly left the bathhouse.

Okay. You could do this. You could do this. You were a nurse. It wasn’t like you’d never seen muscles like that… No you hadn’t. Why did you lie to yourself?

“You sure you’re okay?” Lao asked as he rejoined you, thankfully with his tunic back on. You sucked in a deep breath and nodded. But he didn’t seem convinced. “Your face is all red,” he pointed out, his brows sinking in concern.

You turned your face away and felt it grow hotter now that he’d noticed. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just wanted to get out of there…”

He grinned and offered you a small chuckle. “Don’t tell me that you’re afraid of water now?”

“No!”

He held his hands up defensively and laughed a bit more openly. “Just kidding!”

You frowned and sighed. “I just--”

Should you tell him? Or should you lie?

[yeojaa]

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween.  What he loves more than that?  You.

pairing.  gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating.   idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded.  it’s just that fluffy.  (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings.  established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower. 

wc.  9.7k

beta reader(s).  the lovely @kerikaaria​​​ read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy.  tysm!  💛  i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif​ gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly.  oops... 

author note.  this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo​‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves.  while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside.  i hope you enjoy it!   

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened.  You remember, faintly, the mention of a party.  Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc.  He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought.  If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway.  Win-win or whatever.  

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge.  Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean. 

“Zarya’s one!  Zarya’s one—“  You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen.  You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too.  There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch.  “Zarya’s actually one!” 

No one cares.  She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map. 

“Jesus—“  Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue.  You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.  

I need healing!  I need healing! 

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way.  Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though.  There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point.  Stupid.  You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support. 

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked.  So infuriating and yet— nope.  Just infuriating. 

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise.  Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise.  He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face.  You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru.  He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team.  A silver lining, you suppose.  

Your second round starts well enough.  Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta.  Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana.  You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn.  Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost.  (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado.  The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong.  Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter. 

“You winning?” 

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction.  You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.  

(It’s not your own fault.  He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!”  You want to be more mad.  Really, you do.  You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long.  Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn. 

“What?”  Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime. 

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves.  All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.  

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder.  You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days.  You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery. 

It’s a little distracting;  he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual.  You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck.  Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see;  it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over.  You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication.  (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.) 

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so.  You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words). 

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet. 

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya?  She has grav.”  Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon.  Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock.  If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game. 

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void.  Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces.  Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next.  Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,”  says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head.  He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match.  It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.  

“Rip is right,”  you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map.  If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms.  Jungkook chuckles at that.  

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well.  There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested.  Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”  

You don’t turn your head.  Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you.  Sometimes, you love it;  other times, you hate it.  Most times, though, he’s right.  He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame). 

“Can we go top left?”  You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main.  Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team.  Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited.  “You should be back right by the stairs.  You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point.  Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav.  She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you.  As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen. 

“Told you,”  he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore. 

“I was going to say thank you.”  Just not right now.  You can’t multitask quite like he can. 

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display.  “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock.  Thank freaking god.  You can win this, you think.  Easy.  No problem. 

“Go Ana on defense.”  At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth.  You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin. 

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time.  He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Do you just want to play?”  You don’t mean it seriously.  You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you.  It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship. 

“Nah, I’m snacking.”  He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.  You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon. 

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions.  He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do.  He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do.  He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t. 

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.  

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair.  You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears. 

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game.  There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back. 

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie.  “We won,”  you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug. 

“Of course you did.”  He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you.  He’d been a great coach. 

“What’re you doing here?”  It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest.  He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair.  (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines.  You don’t care.) 

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.  

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.”  You remember, because you’d been disappointed.  Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,”  he states, like he’s talking to a moron.  You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.  

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen.  Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena.  It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it. 

“Yeah, we,”  Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker.  “Halloween party, baby.  Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises:  (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party?  You didn’t think idols had those.  Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no.  Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.”  It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach.  It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day. 

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face.  It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way.  Why’s he looking at you like that?  Why’s your memory so bad?  Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions? 

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance.  It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage.  A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns. 

“I— don’t remember that.”  You’re lying through your damn teeth.  Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass. 

“But you did!”  He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal.  It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me!  You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate. 

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here.  It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia.  “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular.  You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish. 

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs.  (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs.  You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.)  It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing.  The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames.  Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them;  Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.  

“I don’t think I can pull this off,”  you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious.  (You were, once.  Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.) 

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places.  Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest.  You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it.  (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention.  Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you.  You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp.  A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue.  “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance.  It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway.  “You have to say that.  You’re my boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have to say anything,”  he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten.  It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot.  It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart.  “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then.  He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened.  He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom.  How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure.  All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up;  yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug.  You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.  

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson.  They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay—  that was scary.  I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.”  A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees.  It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?”  You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there.  He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms;  he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh.  His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised;  Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer.  (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.”  Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end.  It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature.  You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee.  Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact.  A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious.  You look—”  You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose.  A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon.  “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it.  Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders.  You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!”  You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself.  All part of his plan, you suppose.  “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.  

“Okay!  Sorry!”  Except he doesn’t look very sorry.  More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you.  You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”  

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie.  You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment.  (Not that you really mind.)  

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip.  It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting.  Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks.  It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love. 

Today, it comes after the fourth count. 

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.”  Well, of course you will.  As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas.  It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams. 

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times.  “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins.  It’s unfairly adorable.  Still, you push.  Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you.  From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted. 

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot.  You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum.  A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to.  You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you;  rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.”  By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful.  The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday. 

It turns out to be the opposite:  one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend.  He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger.  You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another.  For tonight, they’re one and the same. 

“Joker?  Seriously?”  You can’t hide the delight.  It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction.  Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask.  “Don’t sound so excited.”  It’s an actual concern of his.  He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.  

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more.  He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting. 

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky.  You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises.  It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently.  You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared;  you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.”  You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes.  It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes.  It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling.  Bastard.  “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker.  You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter.  He’s dressed this way because you like the character.  

“Oh,”  you say, because there’s not much more to say.  Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it. 

“Yeah,”  he parrots back, a little smug.  

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life.  He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set.  You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better.  (You suppose he is.)  

“Angel, come here!”  He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side.  Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love.  There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).   

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.  

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball.  You don’t mind.  You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.  

“I’m winning,”  he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.  

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh.  Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst.  Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.  

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.”  You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element.  He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some.  It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is).  “How many games have you won?”  Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.”  God, his ego.  You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best.  Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck.  He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you.  To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.  

“Can we play?”  Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks.  You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.  

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs.  Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend.  (How fitting.)  “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch.  “No, you’re just bad at games!”  He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes.  Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink.  In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus.  (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?)  You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily.  Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.”  And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.  

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond.  He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life. 

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”  

“Ahhhhhh, stop!”  It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own.  Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads.  “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!”  You know it isn’t true.  Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines).  But together?  It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.  

You absolutely loved it. 

“Sure, sure,”  the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot.  One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins.  A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour.  You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one.  Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour.  “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.  

“Drink this!”  

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?”  You’re incredulous.  Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl.  It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless.  Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!”  The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too.  “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy?  It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?). 

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it.  Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body.  “Don’t die!”  He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”  

“No, you’re fine.”  He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up.  You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement.  “Your face, oh—  Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane.  You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together.  It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor.  Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms.  You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?”  It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies.  He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile.  “What’re you doing down there?”  

“Just hanging out,”  you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft.  A modern day olive branch.  “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close.  Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like.  It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like.  Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away.  You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness.  “You sound drunk, angel,”  he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek.  It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin.  It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves.  “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,”  comes Jimin from beside you.  There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.  

“That’s the plan,”  Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment.  It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him.  He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation.  When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case.  “Want to head home?”

You do.  You really, really do.   

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are.  Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—”  There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet.  “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway.  “Sorry,”  you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused.  It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.”  He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh.  Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away.  “Here, let me.”  

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time.  (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,”  you tease, clinging to him like a koala.  You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven.  “Or are you the court jester?  That’s what Joker is, right?”  It’s a joke and a bad one at that.  Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.  

“You’re drunk.”  He says it more kindly than you expect.  Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve.  You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded.  There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare.  It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought.  You have to tell him.  Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it.  “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down.  As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands.  (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.)  “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?”  You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon.  You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.”  It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that.  You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style.  You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression.  “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does.  You pout, as you so often do. 

“Okay,”  you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder.  You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings.  “Will you wash my hair?”  You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.”  Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).  

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck.  When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips.  You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat.  Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.”  As if that’s meant to stop you.  He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention.  He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,”  you mumble into the expanse of his chest.  He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable.  You think you could live in the feeling of his arms.  (You’re lucky you get to.)  You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most.  “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation.  You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless.  It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.  

He’d explained it to you once.  Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first.  Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t.  JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm.  Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that.  You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.”  You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon.  You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure.  “Gotta get undressed to shower,”  he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises?  It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”  

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.  

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care.  Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow.  You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep.  He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle.  His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck.  You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight.  You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits.  There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest.  He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.”  The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. 

“We are, angel,”  Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back.  It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame.  “Just need to get you warmed up first.”    

“The shower’ll be warm,”  you say - or think you say, anyway.  It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).  

“Do you want me to stop?”  It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off.  Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat.  “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.”  Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern.  You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.  

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise.  “I never want you to stop.”  

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair.  He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted.  “I love you,”  he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.  

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment.  He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off.  You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders.  You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.  

“Start the shower.”  

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that.  You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away.  The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,”  he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream.  He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip.  You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does.  You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside.  It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you.  You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.  

“Hair?”  You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder.  It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.  

“Patience, baby.”  It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess.  He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue.  (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—”  The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand.  Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it.  It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips.  A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit.  The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump.  Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.  

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair.  “Patience,”  he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist.  He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue. 

“Kook,”  you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess.  There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest.  A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.  

“Relax for me.”  You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.  

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more.  You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish.  (You wish you could see him.) 

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him.  (It was.)  He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense.  Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.  

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures.  With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,”  comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care.  Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls.  He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.  

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard.  Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot;  it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.  

“K-Kook.”  It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.  

“I’ve got you.”  And he does - hook, line, and sinker.  He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave.  It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go.  He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn.  See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service.  Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him.  You should recognise the look on his face.  “Kook?”

“My turn.”  It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward.  There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you.  It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in.  “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.  (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed.  In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine.  It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat.  His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear.  It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure.  “Oh fuck,”  he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.  

“Always so good for me.”  Another thing he says, often and without prompting.  It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet.  “Always so perfect for me.”  

“Because I love you,”  you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.  

“Love you too, angel.”  He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway.  He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted.  He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart.  Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust.  An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision;  it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard.  He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high.  You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings. 

“Kook,”  you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower.  The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm.  You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing.  It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.  

“P-please, Kook.  Please.”  You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his.  He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation.  “Come for me, Kook.  Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars.  Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you.  It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs.  You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.  

“I love you,”  he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.  

“I love you,”  you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours.  “But I still need you to wash my hair.”  It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days.  “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.”  Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements.  He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery.  Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.  

“I thought I was an angel.”  You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks.  Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline.  Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice.  “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”  

You can’t argue with that. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Turn

[Gif credit to @rainbow-motors​]

Square: A/B/O ( @supernatural-jackles​ tell me a story bingo)

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Human!reader (soon Omega!Reader)

Summary: A hunt goes sideways for the reader and she’s bitten by a rare alpha, not all alphas have this ability and she is turned into a wolf. She tries adjusting to being a wolf and a hunter with Dean Winchester, an alpha of his own pack.

Warnings: ABO Dynamics, angst, suspense, language, SMUT (18+, Knotting, mating, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up boys)), fluff and crack.

Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 3,962

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: Trying something new with this one. I realize I left a major hole, but maybe it could make for another part. We’ll see.

~

She ran down the halls, frantically.

Shit, shit, shit. She thought.

When she thought she was possibly hunting one rogue werewolf, she ran into the whole pack of them in the fancy mansion.

She frantically turned down the end of the hall finding the winding staircase. Running fast down the stairs her feet practically slid and glided down them.

Once on the ground floor she could hear the distant growls above her on the upper floor. Seeing the double door leading outside she ran for it.

When a large hand emerged from no where when she passed the foyer. Lifting her up high, she struggled to gain a breath as she grabbed onto the strong arm that held her up. Punching, hitting it as hard as she could finding some sort of weak spot to get him to let go of her.

“You damn hunters think you run the show.” He growled.

She choked as she tried to speak, only making him chuckle.

“Not so much of a hunter when cornered.”

She pulled her hand down, forcing a silver hidden blade down to her hand. In one slicing motion she cut his arm. Not severing it from his body but giving a deep and deadly gash at the bend of his arm.

“ARGH!” he shouted in pain as he dropped her.

Gasping for air quickly, she took off as fast as she could.

She burst from the doors, just a few more feet and she’ll be in her car and home free.

All of that went out the window when he pounced on her back, forcing her to the ground. She hit the ground hard with a grunt, nearly face planting the dirt.

And she felt sharp needles of teeth as he bit into her shoulder.

She screamed at the sudden pain.

Before he could rip out the muscle, something yanked him up off of the ground.

She felt a sudden burning pain take her body over, her muscles felt like they were melting, it felt as if she was being burned alive.

Blind by the pains she didn’t hear that the strange person that ripped the alpha wolf off of her had killed him.

Crippled by the pain she didn’t feel or notice the strange person lifted her up in his arms and rushed her to his car and took her some place safe.

 She had no idea how long she was out, but she was still to weak to even stay awake for what was going on.

“Sam, she’s been out for far too long.”

“Dean, she was bit by one of the alpha pure breeds. The process for turning is different than other breeds of wolf. You’re typical werewolf the transformation is barely noticeable until the full moon. This, is different. Her dynamic is changing before our eyes. She’ll either make it or she’ll die.”

There was a low growl.

“Hey, don’t growl at me, that’s the truth and that’s what she’s faced with.”

“Her eyes are opening, look Sammy!”

She saw two tall blond men standing before her at her bedside. But she was too tired and weak to fully awaken.

“She’s looking weak Dean but she’s alive.”

“Did she present yet?”

“Not yet, and that’s where I’m afraid she might die seeing as how she’s really weak now.”

“Fuck!”

“You can’t save them all Dean.”

“I nearly wiped out the pack, they target all kinds of humans to build their army. I didn’t want her to become one of them.”

“We’re like them too Dean, just…more human.”

“I know what you mean…”

“Where…” she managed to stutter out.

“You’re safe in our bunker in Lebanon Kansas. You should rest, your transformation isn’t over yet.”

Letting herself slip back to a deep sleep she nods at him.

“Now, we wait and pray.” Sam says.

Dean looking down at her worried and concerned.

He didn’t notice Sam giving a side glance. Why was he so concerned for a stranger. For a human he’d never met before.

 The presentation process was a quick one, turns out she survived it all only coming out weak and tired.

Waking up where she woke before she let out a tired groan before sitting up. Her arms trembling at the effort it took to do so.

The first thing that hit her were the smells. There were so many smells it gave her a headache. Sounds, some louder than some. She heard voices in the halls. She recognized the voices.

She got up quickly only to fall on the floor with a thud. “Oghf.”

Pushing her upper body off of the ground so she could sit up more she felt forming bruises on her knees and hip for how she hit the ground.

“Ow.” She whined rubbing her knees.

“Sam, did you hear that?” she heard Dean ask.

“Sounds like she’s up.”

She tried to hurry up to her feet.

Once up on her feet her knees wobbled. She held onto the bed before she fell again.

“You’re up.” Dean says entering the infirmary.

“What happened to me?”

“You transformed into a wolf.” Sam says simply.

“But I still look human.”

“My brother and I are wolves as well. We’re both Alphas.”

“Oh, kay?” she looked confused.

“Show her.” Sam asks of Dean.

With total concentration Dean closed his eyes, cast his gaze down and his body morphed from human to a large black wolf. A large, black, four legged wolf.

Her eyes bugged out of her head; she was shocked yet amazed. “Pretty.”

Dean’s ears went down, as did his head when he turned to walk out.

“Did he not like that comment?”

“Not really.”

“Its just, wolves are my favorite animal. I really like wolves; he just was a really pretty wolf.”

“Nothing about this is pretty.” Dean grumbled back into the room in his robe.

“Look on the bright side of things man, you get to change into a wolf, you’re faster than your enemies, and you’re much stronger…” she trailed.

“Whatever.” Dean grumbled, leaving again.

“Is he always like that?”

“Yes, he’s not one for being positive about anything.”

She looked on after Dean, wonder what can she do the help cheer him up.

“But lets get you to a more suitable room.” Sam says, snapping her out of her gaze.

Taking her arm he helped her through the bunker. Slowly regaining her strength.

 “Okay!” they heard a scream from her room.

The brothers ran into her room to investigate.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

Seeing a half-naked Y/N, they see a tail emerge from her bottom. A pure, white, fluffy tail.

“Why do I have this tail?”

“Were you trying to transform?”

“How do I do that?”

“It’s hard to explain but it takes a lot of concentration.”

“Dean, what do I got to do?”

“What I do is close my eyes, so nothing distracts me. Then concentrate on one thing. Wolf or human, concentrate on that.”

She saw her do as he told her. Seeing her face scrunch up in a slight discomfort her tail shrunk into nothing.

“Is it supposed to be uncomfortable?”

“Yes, going full wolf is even weirder than having just the tail part.”

“It just felt like my spine just expanded.”

“It’s something to get used to.” Sam says before exiting.

She nods, and finishes getting dressed.

“How’d that happen anyway?” Dean asked.

“I don’t…I guess I was trying to do what you did…and it felt like something just popped out of my ass.”

Dean stifled a snorted chuckle.

“It’s not funny! It scared me.”

“Sorry, sorry, just…the delivery…Look, like Sam said, it’s something to get used to. And if you need anything, Sam and I are here. Just let us know, okay.”

“Okay.”

 “So get this…” Sam says entering the kitchen.

“I’ve found those wolves you missed Dean. They’re not far from here.”

“They could be after me, I mean I did wipe out their pack.”

They hear a whine down the hall. Deans ears practically perked up towards the noise. And he was up in a heartbeat.

Knocking hard on the door, Dean entered before she could acknowledge him to let him in.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, what is this?” she whined as she writhed in pain on her bed, holding her abdomen.

Dean could smell it.

“Oh, it’s your first heat, Omega.”

She let out a groan. Dean taken aback at the sound she made.

“You…you liked that I called you that.”

“What, no…I…I don’t know. What’s a heat?”

“It’s your period basically. And you get super, super horny.”

“And I’m gone.” Sam leaves abruptly.

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Do normal pain meds help this pain?”

“No, unfortunately being a wolf you have a different body chemistry when it comes to medication. Let’s head to a special doctor that helps our kind and he can give you some meds.”

“Okay, but favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Can you carry me?” she whines.

“Sure thing sweetheart.” He says with a sweet smile.

Once the appointment was done and out of the way Dean takes her back to the bunker.

“So you need sex just to help with the pain as well? Don’t you have toys?”

“Well, my toys aren’t for girls, I might have one that maybe you can use.”

“But what’s this I hear about the wolves…”

“You’re not going, not only are you still new to being a wolf, you’re in the middle of your first heat. Besides, Sam and I we got this. just hang back at the bunker, ride out your heat and we should be back soon.”

“Fine, I guess you’re right with the whole heat thing.”

“Trust me, you want to stay in. Some Alphas can get feral if they discover an new, unclaimed omega in heat.”

She shrunk in her seat at that fact.

“But don’t worry, I won’t let anyone touch you.” He adds quickly, seeing her relax again.

 She paced the library anxiously. Something told her gut something was wrong.

Why was she so worked up? She barely knew them; she only knew them for a few months.

She heard the bunker doors open, hearing heavy breathing at the top of the stairs, and the door closing. She hurries out of the library and into the war room. She sees Sam holding Dean over his shoulder. The color of his face pale and sickly. And she could smell it.

Silver.

“What happened?”

“They had a hunter with them, I never heard of a hunter allying with wolves before.”

“I have. It usually helps them on finding someone or something. But I was told to avoid that because it’s a scam. A scam where you can get dead quick.”

“Well, they sniped Dean with something, it’s released a poison into his system.”

“I think I know how to help. Lets get him into the infirmary.”

Sam had laid him down on one of the beds gently. Until he started convulsing.

Sam trying to hold him down.

“Don’t you’ll pull a muscle.” She advices.

“How can we help?”

“I called one of my hunting friends, he’s on his way down with the antidote. It’s simple, marigold, Echinacea roots, and calendula officinalis, not only will it treat the poison but other ailments as well. The burning, itching, to start.” She says holding up a needle that has the fluid form of all those ingredients inside the syringe.

Dean finally calmed down, falling into a deep comatose state.

Making a tourniquet, she injects the medicine into his arm. Pulling the tourniquet away while still injecting.

“Now we wait.” She says, pulling the needle out and placing a bandage on the injection site.

 Hours pass and his complexion looks better.

“He’s looking better,” Sam mentioned.

She looked at the injury site, seeing the inflammation going down.

“It’s working.”

“How’d you know?”

“My dad made the poison. I just so happen to know the antidote.”

“How do you think he’ll react when he finds out?”

“He won’t.”

“Why not?”

“He died a few years ago on a hunt. Vamp drained him dry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, he died saving people. The kids got out of there safe. I just couldn’t get to him in time.”

“You know it’s not your fault he’s dead, you know that right.”

“I know dr. Phil.”

Sam giving her a bitch face. Only making her giggle.

Dean moaned as he began to stir awake.

“Hey, take it easy Dean, you’re gonna feel shitty for a bit.”

“Great.” He grumbled.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“Awesome. I feel like I was being pulled apart and squished.”

“Joys of being poisoned.”

“How am I still here?”

“Y/N knew the antidote; she had a friend of hers bring it up.”

“How did she pull that off?”

“I told him the truth. He’s my childhood friend. He’s looked after me a lot growing up. He’s also older than me, he’s like my big brother.”

“Nice.” Dean says.

Sam and Y/N nodded.

Dean began to get up, only wincing in pain as he moved.

“Easy, just take it slow.” She advised.

“It all hurts.” Dean whined.

“Want us to help you to your bed?” she asked.

“No, I got it.” he says as he toughened through the pain. Getting up out of the bed and limping to his room.

“He’s just acting tough,” Sam mentions. “Anyway, I’m gonna head to bed. I suggest helping him.”

“I’ll try again. Alright, night Sam.”

Sam had walked the opposite direction of Dean down the hall heading to his room, Dean slowly walking to his room. Leaning against the wall now.

“Dean.”

“Okay, I might need help. This hurts.” Dean says, breathing hard and labored.

“Just lean against me, I’ll help you.” She says taking his arm around her shoulders. Taking half of his weight as he limped against her.

“How long am I gonna be like this?”

“I’d give it a few days. My dad made the poison to slow down a wolf and he’d capture them for questioning. Then he’d make the antidote, so he’d keep them alive for the questioning.”

“Ever since you changed, I keep forgetting you were a hunter.”

“Yeah, well, just be glad my friend was one, able to the help and B, that I even made large batches of the antidote to begin with.”

They finally made it to his room, room 11. She helped him get to his bed. Dean landing on the bed on his side with a huff.

“You plan on sleeping in all those clothes?”

“No, I’ll sleep naked, I ain’t getting up to change, fuck that.” He grumbled, laying there, his eyes close. His face scrunched up in pain.

“Dean, I want to help.”

“I get that you do. But I barely know you. I’m not gonna have you strip me down.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll be fine. Go get some sleep.”

“Okay, just, holler if you need help.” she says turning to leave. “Night Dean.”

She heads to her room. And she can hear him grunting and groaning as he took his clothes off all while laying down. Only making her chuckle. Shaking her head.

 Sam and Dean had left the bunker on a hunt for the wolves again.

It had been months and they have resurfaced again.

She found herself pacing again. Just like last time.

No, not again. she thought.

She calls up her hunter friend telling him where to meet her.

Once out of the bunker she transforms into her wolf form for the first time.

Oh wow, that was…yep, definitely weird. She thought.

She ran, following Dean and Sam’s scent.

The scent took her to a forest, and she smelled something off.

Blood.

But who’s blood is that? She wondered.

Just outside of the forest she sees her friend.

Turning into her human form to be able to communicate.

“Did you bring them?”

“Wow, you’re very naked!”

“FOCUS!”

“Yes, I brought the poison darts and the antidote in case any of you get hit by theirs.”

“Stay alert, these wolves are like me, Sam and Dean.”

“Winchester?”

She nodded. “Why? You heard of them?”

“Yeah, they were humans once. But that was a while ago.”

“What?!”

“Focus Y/N, your friends need you.”

“Right, I’ll talk to them later about that.”

“Now go get them pipsqueak.”

Turning back into wolf form she runs into the forest, keeping a nose out for Dean or Sam.

Hearing feral growls and snarls caught her attention.

She saw golden wolf with white patters hurt, and laying under a tree. And a solid black wolf attacking two wolves all his own.

Dean. She thought.

But when one wolf gets on top of him, she jumps into action.

“Dean!” though words didn’t escape her mouth.

She pounced on the dog pile, going after the wolf she spotted on top of Dean.

“Hey, watch it!” Dean shouted.

She can hear him? How’s that? She wondered.

“Sorry!”

“Oh, how cute, his little omega friend coming to his rescue.” The opposing wolf said.

The two wolves were alphas, but not the alpha that changed her.

One wolf, all black with few white patterns. And the other grey with white patterns. They stood in front of them. Dean next to her.

He was larger than her form, but she felt safe next to him. And also willing to protect him even if he didn’t want it.

“This is too pathetic.” The grey wolf says.

“Can it Balto!” Dean barked.

“Let’s end this. Now.” Said the black and white wolf.

As they stood there, ready to pounce one another. She smelled it. Another hunter, it’s not her friend. And he had his sights on Dean.

“Dean!” she shouted, getting between him and the hunter.

The hunter fired. A dart hitting her the back of her shoulder.

A shot rang out.

Y/N’s hunter friend had his regular gun, he in defense of his friends, killed the hunter before he could take another shot at his friend. Or Dean.

“They brought a hunter!” the grey wolf panicked.

The hunter taking two quick shots, hitting the wolves with poison darts.

“Lets get out of here!” The black and white wolf shouted as they ran off.

They ran only a few feet, allowing the poison to pump quickly through their system.

“Shit, I don’t feel good.” The grey wolf stated, slowing down.

“We just got to get to the hunters stash and find this antidote.” The black and white wolf pushed.

The grey wolf collapsed with a whine.

“No, not now.” The black and white wolf panted.

Collapsing as well. They died quickly, after a moment after their bodies landed on the ground.

Dean hurried to her.

She had transformed back to her human form. Panting hard and labored she laid on the forest floor.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Dean says. Taking her into his arms. Making her cry out.

He looked around panicked. Seeing her hunter friend coming through the woods.

“Oh, you both are very naked.” He comments.

“Do you have the antidote?”

“I do, here, let me.” He says.

Cleaning her arm, making a quick tourniquet, he injects the needle in her vein hoping for quick work of the antidote.

“Sam’s hurt,”

“I know, I got him in my car, where do you want me to take him?”

“The bunker, where you gave her the antidote for me.”

“Okay.” He says, running for his car.

“Hang in there Y/N, you’re gonna be okay.” Dean says as he picks her up, getting up on his own two feet he runs to his impala. Speeding all the way back to the bunker.

 She woke up in Dean’s room, feeling sore and weak.

She stirred awake, sitting up feeling her muscles achy, stiff, and sore.

“Easy sweetheart.” She heard next to her.

She saw Dean on a couch by his bed. Getting up to sit by her on his bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Did you get them?”

“Yeah, your hunter friend did. He went back to clean up the mess before anyone saw.”

“I just had a gut feeling something bad was gonna happen if I didn’t come to help.”

“Deep down I’m glad you did, but this is why I wish you didn’t. You almost died out there.” Dean’s voice wavered.

“I’m aware of that, but I didn’t want you going through that again.”

Dean took her hand in his, putting it to his cheek, taking in her scent.

“Dean, I’m okay.” She assures him.

He bends down, kissing her forehead. “Don’t scare me like that again.” he whispers.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Oh would you two please, make out already!” Sam says from the door.

“Sam,” Dean snapped.

Sam just rolling his eyes and leaving. Making Y/N giggle.

When Dean turned his head back towards her, he found her lips on hers.

Shocked at first for a brief second, he quickly returned the kiss.

What started as a sweet kiss quickly turned hungry and needy.

Not before long they shed their clothes, lips always staying attached in the heated kiss.

Dean pulling away, noticing a scent.

“Oh, of course your heat is starting soon isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is, now alpha, please,” she whined.

“Such a needy omega.”

Dean ground his hips against hers, letting his hardening member brush between her folds, glistening with her slick.

“Making slick like no one’s business too.”

“Fuck me alpha, I need your knot.”

“Do you want that? You want me to mate you?”

“I want you Dean; I think we both knew what was happening as time went on.”

“You’re my omega.”

“And you’re my alpha.”

She felt the tip of his member entering, slowly stretching her along his girthy cock.

She felt his balls hit against her ass, he was fully seated with in her, he pulls out then thrusts back in without resistance.

Her jaw drops in the pleasure that shot through her body.

He began a rough and fast pace with each heavy thrust. The sound of wet sex filling the room aside from their moans.

She could feel Dean’s knot getting bigger and bigger, and with one thrust he locks in throwing her into a dizzying orgasm, making her see stars as he fills her up full of his seed.

In that moment of their orgasms hitting, she felt his teeth bite into her shoulder, her doing the same a second later.

He releases her after his knot calmed down after what seemed like hours. He continued a slow thrust as he kissed and licked the mark he made on her neck and shoulder. He could feel her doing the same. Humming against his skin.

“My ‘mega.” He says against her.

“My alpha.” She purrs into his ear, kissing at the base of it.

 She woke up in Dean’s arms, feeling the remanence of last nights activities dripping down her thigh as she adjusted herself. Making Dean stir awake.

“Morning Omega.”

She purrs at her title.

“Morning Alpha.”

They heard a pair of footsteps stopping by the door.

“You know, I’m glad you guys took my advice and made out, but you could have shut the door.”

“Sorry Sammy.”

“Yeah, well, it spurred me into my rut, so thanks a lot.”

“You’ve got your toys Sam; my omega is off limits!” Dean growled.

“I know Dean, and I wasn’t even thinking about doing your omega!” Sam argues as he walks to the kitchen.

“Be nice Dean, we did trigger his rut after all.”

“Yeah well, if he’s in his rut, that means mine’s not far off.”

“Well, I’m here for you Alpha.” She says curling into him, snuggling close.

He holds her close, purring in acknowledgment.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Dean.”

~

a/n: Part 2

a/n #2: What’d you think? I know I left out a major portion of some story maybe it could be for another part, who knows. Feedback is always appreciated. :3

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @mlovesstories​, @akshi8278​, @flamencodiva​, @megzdoodle​, @shawnie74​, @misfit0118​, @anotherspnfanfic​, @lyarr24​, @missmemoire09​, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/17/2021

[lillywillow]

Puppy Love

Summary: When Bucky finds a group of abandoned puppies, it changes his life in a way he didn’t think was possible.

 Word Count: 1178

 Square Filled: Vet Clinic AU

 Pairings: Bucky x Reader

 Warnings: Slight medical themes, someone being a thoughtless jerk

 Author’s Note: Every day, hundreds of animals die needlessly in shelters. If you are thinking of getting a pet, consider adopting one from a shelter and help an animal find their forever home.

This is written for @star-spangled-bingo

 Running a low cost vet clinic wasn’t easy but at times, it could be very rewarding. Sometimes, it made things difficult on the dating front but that started to change when your cute neighbour Bucky asked you out. He was shy at first but after going on a few dates you bonded over your love of animals. Bucky had confessed to you that he preferred animals to people to which you had to agree. Sure there the occasional date that was cut short due to an emergency at the clinic but there was a real connection between the two of you.

One day at the clinic, you were getting ready for your lunch break when you heard a great commotion coming from the reception area.

 “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait in line-”

 “But they need help now!” You saw Bucky standing at the desk holding what looked to be his shirt in his hands and close to his well toned chest. His long hair had been pulled back and he was sweaty as if he had been running.

 “Bucky?” The man locked eyes with you.

 “Y/N! You have to help them! Please!” he begged. As you moved closer, you could see in the fabric five tiny puppies, barely old enough to be away from their mother.

 “Follow me...” You showed Bucky to one of the examination rooms.

 “I was out jogging and I passed a trash can when I heard them whimpering... someone had stuffed them in there,” he said bitterly. “I couldn’t just leave them alone in the trash...”

 It boiled your blood to hear stories of people being so thoughtless towards something so helpless but it melted your heart to see how much Bucky cared.

 “Put them on the table.” Bucky leant forward and carefully placed the precious contents of his shirt onto the stainless steel surface. One by one, you checked the health of each small, squirming puppy. As you picked up the last one, it let out a painful yelp.

 “Oh! I’m sorry, baby. That’s sore, huh?” you cooed, noticing the deep, smelly wound on the puppy’s front left leg. Now that you had found it, you were even more careful examining the pup.

 “I don’t like the look of this injury,” you muttered.

 “Will it be okay?” Bucky asked, picking up a female puppy that you had already checked to pat. The little girl squirmed happily and licked his hand. For the first time, you saw his left arm was made of onyx metal, possibly a Stark Industries prosthetic. Bucky had told you he had lost his arm in the war but it was something he was very private about. He only ever wore long sleeved shirts and gloves whenever he was out in public.

 “It will depend on how badly the infection has set in. We’ll do what we can but the leg might have to be amputated.” Bucky looked down at the puppy in his hands.

 “Dogs can live a normal happy life with three legs. They’re very resilient. They’re all dehydrated and malnourished but seem okay. We’ll run some tests to make sure there are no other underlying health issues... you did the right thing by bringing them in,” you assured him. Bucky smiled softly then promptly grumbled as one of the puppies peed on his shirt. You fought back the playful laugh that bubbled up in your throat.

 “I can find you a spare scrubs top,” you offered.

 “I don’t want to put anyone out,” he mumbled.

 “You wouldn’t be. That’s why they’re called spare.” Bucky shifted a little before nodding.

 “Alright... would it be okay if I hang around here for a while? I’m not ready to go out in public yet...” Bucky was still very self conscious about his arm. No matter how many times his friends tried to tell him not to worry about it, it just wasn’t enough. He had taken a big step in asking you out and for now, that was sufficient for him. Bucky hadn’t wanted you to see his arm but this was an emergency. He had nothing other than the shirt on his back to carry the litter of puppies in and he ran to your clinic as fast as he could, trying to ignore the stares of passersby.

 “I’m sure we could find something around here to keep you busy,” you smiled.

...

 The hours ticked by and eventually it was time to go home. All day, Bucky had worked diligently, cleaning out kennels and assisting with moving heavy objects. When you went to collect him, he was standing in front of the adoption board.

 “Hey, Bucky...”

 “Hey,” he replied, never taking his eyes from the board covered in pictures of animals ready to find their forever homes.

 “Are you thinking of getting a pet?” you asked.

 “My friend suggested getting a therapy dog... do you have any dogs like that?”

 “We don’t have any dogs currently trained to be therapy dogs in our shelter. I could get in touch with someone...” Bucky was silent for a few moments.

 “What about the puppies I found today? Could they be trained?” You couldn’t help but smile.

 “It would take some time but they should definitely be trainable. They’ll need to pass all their health checks and puppy obedience training but, yes, they certainly would be able to learn. As soon as they’re ready, I’ll take you through the adoption process.” It was now Bucky’s turn to smile.

 “Thanks...”

...

 The weeks went by and Bucky was finally able to adopt one of the puppies he had found in the trash. He had chosen the little one who needed its leg amputated (who had been named T-Rex) as he felt a great sense of connection with it. Bucky often came to you for advice on the best way to care for the pup and even started coming to the clinic to volunteer, of course, bringing T-Rex with him. He strictly followed the obedience training which T-Rex passed with flying colours. Since that went so well, T-Rex could be trained to become a fully fledged service dog.

 As time passed, Bucky started to come out of his shell, not only with the help of T-Rex but you as well. You brought out the best in him. Bucky went as far to go on rescue drives to help dogs in need and even went as far as to become an advocate for dogs with disabilities. You couldn’t be prouder of both Bucky and the puppy he had saved. In a way, they had rescued each other.

[fictionalabyss]

I’m the only Alpha here.

Pairings : Alpha!Winchesters x Rogue!Reader, Gadreel x Reader (hinted at)

Word count : 1,082

Written for : @spnabobingo​​

Square : Pet play

Warning : Pack style. being help prisoner mentioned, death mentioned, threats, animal forms, pet play (non-sexual in the fic but hinted at more behind the scenes)​

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

He doesn’t know how it happened. How he lost. He was one of the strongest Alpha’s, his pack one of the largest, his members disciplined. How the fuck had he lost to rogues? Their leader had to be big, strong, and very smart to have managed this. He’s glaring down at the stone floor, wracking his brain, trying to figure out a way out of this, not just for him but for his whole pack. How many were dead? Had word gotten to his brother in time?

The door opens and he squints as light floods in. He can just barely make out the shape of a man in the doorway, his build taking up the whole frame before he steps in, reaches down and yanks Sam to his feet. Sam growls at him, baring his teeth ready to fight, but gets a face full of metal door for his efforts, before being yanked back and dragged along. The man pulling him is almost as big as he is, maybe an inch shorter at the most, and almost just as built. Maybe he was the man in charge. “Where are we going?” He spits out the blood in his mouth onto the floor without missing a step. No answer comes, his journey just gets a little rougher as he gets banged against frames he passed through. If this asshole isn’t in charge, Sam’s about to meet someone bigger and meaner. He’s sure of it now, because he’s being brought up towards his office.

The door opened, and Sam was roughly shoved inside. “Watch it.” he growled, once he got his footing steady again.

“Fuck you.” came the response from behind him, the first words Sam’s heard since he was shoved down into his own dungeon and left there for hours.

Based on a cursory glance, and what he could smell, the room was empty other than him and this asshole. Sam had to stop himself from baring his teeth again. He couldn’t let his anger take over, not yet. “Where’s Gabriel?” he demanded. He hadn’t smelt him down in the dungeons, which told him he hadn’t been put down there like Sam. And he’d never believe Gabriel to be working with the enemy. “Where’s-”

“Dead.” Sam’s head snapped around towards the voice. His large leather chair turned so the back was no longer facing him. “I had no use for a Beta.”  Sam growled, eyes going dark with rage as his lip curled and his fangs elongated. “Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Samuel.” you wagged a finger at him. “Unless you want me breaking more of your nice things.”

“It’s Sam.” he spat. “Alpha, to the likes of you.”

You laughed at that, head going back. “Oh honey, don’t you see?” you smiled, biting your bottom lip lightly for a moment as your head came back down to meet his glare. “I’m the only Alpha here.”

“You’re just a piece of shit rogue.” he spat.

“Funny, I don’t smell like shit. I smell pretty nice, actually. Oh, right, you can’t smell me right now.” you smiled at him. “Would you like me to change that? I hear it's a good scent, drives all the boys crazy. Doesn’t it, Gadreel?” You looked at the man behind Sam with a seductive smirk.

“Why can’t I scent you?” The fact that he hadn’t known you were in the room when he entered unnerved him.  No one had been able to surprise him yet, not until now.

“Couldn’t have you smelling me coming, could I?” Your eyes were back on him as you kicked your feet up onto his desk. “Not until I was ready for you to know.”

“Magic?” You just continued to smile almost sweetly at him. “Doesn’t fucking matter. Whatever you think you have here, it won’t last.”

“Oh, no? Why not?” You watched as he almost smirked at the confused and anxious look you gave him. “Oh! Right! Big brother.” you smiled and his smirk fell. “Gadreel. Bring me my latest pet, please.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Gadreel bowed to you before shooting the back of Sam’s head a glare, then left the room, door shutting behind him. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he kept his eyes on you, trying to figure out what you were pulling. There was a few minutes of silence, him glaring at you while you looked around his office as if you had not a care or worry in the world. Then the door opened again. “Alpha, your pet.”

“Thank you, Gadreel.” You smiled, feet coming down off the desk before standing. You waved him closer as you made your way around his large oak desk.

Sam turned his head, to see what Gadreel had brought, but before he even laid eyes on his brother’s wolf, he smelt him. “Dean?” he couldn’t stop the panic from hitting his voice.

“You see, Sammy,” you smiled at the pet name his brother had given him as a child as you reached out for the leash in Gadreel’s hand, “I paid big brother a visit before I came here. Sit.” At the command, Dean stopped and sat back on his haunches.

“Let him go.” Your eyes left Dean and came up to see Sam moving forward, his muscles tense like he was ready to shift any second. “LET HIM GO!”

“Ah” you put a finger up to stop him, but it was your grip tightening on the leash that Sam felt was the real threat. “No.” Your eyes stayed on Sam, but your next command was for Dean again. “Shift.”

He felt helpless as he heard Dean’s bones crack and snap, golden brown fur fading away to soft light brown hair and scarred skin. “How did I not hear about it?”

“The same way no one heard about the others, and no one will hear about what happened here. I don’t let anyone leave. No messages, no runners. You submit or you get broken.”

“M-my brother?”

You smiled, and cupped Dean’s chin, making him look up at you. “He was happy to submit. Weren’t you, my pet.” Dean nodded. “Speak.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“What a good boy.” you smiled, your hand leaving his chin to run through his hair. Dean’s eyes closed as he reveled in the touch. “You see, Sam, every pack I take over, I make the Alpha my pet.” your eyes came up to meet his. “Will you submit, Samuel? Or will I be forced to break you?”

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Tagging :  Sam -  @evyiione​  @hoboal87​

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SPN -  @sandlee44​  @just-another-busy-fangirl​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @deanandsamsbitch​  @deans-baby-momma​  @thebescht​ @67-chevy-baby​ @supraveng​   @musiclovinchic93​ @holyfuckloueh​  @ksgeekgirl​   @hobby27​ @maddiepants​  @roxyspearing​ @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​   @thoughts-and-funnies​

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[holylulusworld]

Welcome back

Title: Welcome back

Square Filled: A/B/O AU

Ship: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Meg 2.0

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, ABO, ABO dynamics, smut, unprotected sex, scenting, psychic!reader, true mates, language

Summary: Back from Purgatory you and your alpha need to find his brother.

Word Count: 2k+

Written/Created for @spnaubingo​​

2020 SPN AU BINGO Masterlist

Sequel to Purgatory

“It’s not that far, sweetheart,” Dean stops in his tracks, checking on you once again. “We will rest when we reached the clearing over there,” pointing toward a place far away Dean wraps one arm around your waist. 

“No monsters around, only a few animals, harmless.” While Dean looks at the makeshift weapon he brought with him from Purgatory you interlink your fingers with his, smiling when he brings your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“We can make it, Y/N. Only a bit longer. If we find a car, I know where to go. First, we need to find a phone, though,” you can hear the tremble in Dean’s voice but remain silent.

“Your brother, he’ll be happy to hear you are back.” Dean presses his forehead to yours, inhaling your scent for a moment. “I hope he likes me, alpha.”

“Sammy will love you, Y/N. He is the best. I bet he tried anything to find me and Cas. God, he must be so worried.” You nod, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s scruffy cheek.

“Let’s go, alpha. I want to meet your brother…”

“Dead too,” Dean grumbles, dialing another number. “I don’t get it,” your alpha sighs, ending another unanswered call.

“What’s wrong? Did he change his number?” Worriedly watching your alpha rummage in the gloves department of the car he stole you feel he is getting nervous. “I bet he’s alright, Dean. Maybe he lost his phone, happened to me more than once.”

“Problem is, we’ve got two numbers for emergencies like this, okay. Whenever we got parted or didn’t know if the other is still alive, we call the first number, let it ring thrice, and hang up to call the other number,” impressed you nod, smiling as Dean dials the next number. “Sammy does not answer at all, sweetheart.”

“Do you have a hideout? A place you would use to stay safe?” Dean starts the engine, giving you a sad look. “He’ll be okay, Dean. Nothing happened to your brother, promised. We will find him and you can tell him anything happening over the last year.”

“We hid in a hunting cabin before I ended up in Purgatory. If we find Sammy anywhere it is there. Maybe his battery is low or crap,” Dean’s hands tremble when he speeds off while you pray his brother is safe.

Whitefish, Montana

“I don’t understand,” looking around the cabin you blink in confusion. “Why should your brother leave all his things behind?”

“I got no clue, sweetheart. Dad’s journal, Bobby’s too, we never leave this behind, not even on the run.” Dean feels his throat tightening, as fear takes over and he believes something must have happened to his baby brother. “I can’t believe he left everything.��

Tossing and turning on the mattress you cannot find sleep. Used to sleeping on the ground or in a cave you fail to find rest. 

You slowly sit up, rubbing your tired eyes hearing voices coming from the other side of the cabin. Instinct kicking in you use your powers, but all you can sense are your mate and another human.

Dean talks about spending a whole year in purgatory, running for his life, and losing his friend, the angel. You can hear the sadness in his voice and decide to introduce yourself to his brother.

“I can’t believe you are here,” Dean walks toward the refrigerator taking out two beers when you step out of the small bedroom. “Most of your numbers are out of service, Sammy. I had the feeling you tried to ghost me.”

“I didn't get your messages, Dean,” you walk into the room, standing behind Dean’s tall brother as Sam starts explaining he ditched his phones and your breath hitches in your throat feeling Dean’s anger.

Whilst Sam exclaims he is not hunting anymore and that he quit the family business you step further into the room, looking at your alpha who needs all his strength to tame his anger.

“Dean,” whispering your alpha’s name you look at Dean who balls his hands into fists when his brother admits he did not look for him. Instead of trying to get Dean back, he dropped everything and ran to live a normal life.

“I am still the same guy, Dean,” Sam looks at his big brother, hoping he will not be too disappointed. He only kept his promise and now, he feels the pit in his stomach grows.

“Great for you, I am not,” Dean walks away, opening the door to leave the hut, slamming the door shut, making the wood vibrate.

Blindly running after your alpha, you call his name, scared he will do something stupid, like hurting his brother or himself.

Dean is pacing behind the cabin, slowly losing his patience he’s balling his hands into fists, murmuring curses.

“Alpha,” you whisper, slowly walking toward your mate. “You need to calm, Dean. Let me help you.”

Dean is on you in a blink, burying his face into your neck to inhale your scent to calm his raging anger.

“Need you, omega, need you so much,” he purrs, softly pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “I feel calm with you.”

“Have me, alpha, let me help you,” you move your fingers through his hair, gently playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck while your alpha just holds you against him, scenting you.

“Y/N,” Dean murmurs, feeling your hand palm his cock. “I need my omega, need my mate.”

At the same time as you press soft kisses to his neck, nibbling at his skin Dean is impatiently freeing his cock, whining when you press your face into his neck.

“Need you too, Dean,” pressing your lips to your alpha’s you feel his hands on your ass, groping it roughly. Without hesitation you jump into his arms, hold tight onto his shoulders whilst he shoves your panties aside to carefully line up with your entrance.

“Dean,” you whimper, feeling full only seconds later, savoring the burning sensation of the wide stretch.

Dean is purring in response, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You cling to your alpha, loop your arms under Dean’s to let your hands grasp for his shoulders. All you can do is hold tight onto your mate when he starts to move inside of you.

“Alpha,” Dean holds your gaze, smiling when your face contorts in pleasure. “You feel so good, Dean.” He moans at your words, burying his face into your neck, desperately clinging to your body as the pressure builds in your core with every quick thrust he gives you.

“Need you, Y/N,” he whines now, wetting your neck with his tears and you instinctively move one hand to his head, gently stroking his hair to calm the alpha. “My omega, mine.”

“I am here and will not leave you, Dean. Please, I need you,” he is panting now, arms wrapped tightly around your trembling body, desperate to push you both over the edge.

“You’re my ray of hope,” he mumbles when you tighten around him, gripping his cock tightly. “Next time, I’ll knot you good.” Laughing you nod, feeling his cum run down your thighs.

Dean does not pull out for a heartbeat or ten, rather holds you in his arms, pressed against his body. He is panting heavily, hating he showed weakness after being a fierce warrior for all his life.

“You know, you’re damn scary. Those monsters at the Purgatory whispered your name in fear,” you press your lips to his forehead, hoping Dean will calm now. “I have the strongest mate I could wish for.”

Sam still sits on the couch, waiting for his brother to return when you walk back into the cabin, squeezing your mates’ hand tightly. “Hi, I am Y/N, your brother saved me at the Purgatory.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam’s eyes land on your claiming mark and he knows, his brother did more than saving you. “Can I have a moment with my brother, please?”

“Of course,” you peck Dean’s cheek, letting your touch linger before you break contact to move toward the small bedroom. “I’ll be waiting in our room, alpha. Goodnight, Sam.”

“Did you bring a monster back here, Dean? You changed,” Sam frantically moves his fingers through his hair, glaring at Dean. “You mated with her too!”

“She’s not a monster, Sam. Y/N is human, just like us, but hanks to Crowley she ended up in Purgatory,” Dean talks back, gritting his teeth. “So, yes Sam. I mated with her as Y/N is my true mate. If you do not want to be a hunter any longer or my brother, go back to that woman and leave me alone. I got a mate to take care of.”

Dean walks toward the bedroom, grasping for the door handle. He hesitates, taking a deep breath before he looks over his shoulder at Sam who looks like a kicked puppy. “We see each other in the morning, or not. Your decision, Sam.”

Curled in Dean’s side, one arm draped over his waist you nuzzle your face into his chest.

Dean is wide awake. His instinct, the warrior will not let him sleep. He is used to almost no sleep and being awake for days so he can barely find it in him to close his eyes.

“You need to sleep, Dean,” murmuring the words you snuggle into his chest. “You’re so warm and comfy. I never felt safer, alpha. Nothing will happen to me with you by my side.”

A smile crosses Dean’s face when you pat his back, insisting he needs sleep too. “Sleep, alpha, or you can’t protect me. I cannot sense any monster. There are none out there, not even close.”

“My little monster detector,” Dean pecks your hair, humming when you hook one leg over his thigh. “You’re warm too, soft and caring. If anything good came out of my time at that place, it’s you and our bond. No matter what, we belong together,” whispering the words Dean softly kisses your hair.

“Together, I like it,” sleepily mumbling the words, eyes fluttering close you slowly drift into sleep. “You and I, Dean.”

“I am sorry our first time was rough and pretty public. Next time, I’ll be gentle and take my time, omega. I will show you I can be the mate you deserve,” you are fast asleep, but Dean keeps on whispering promises before he allows himself to fall asleep.

“Morning,” you chirp, offering Sam a cup of coffee, “I am glad you stayed Sam. Dean, he’s not completely back. A part of him is still at that place, mourning the loss of his friend. He’ll need us both to come back.”

“Did he force you?” Sam looks at the healing mark at your neck, waiting for your answer. “I mean, it must’ve been hell being trapped in that world. I would understand if you let him,” Sam gasp when you backhand the tall hunter.

“Dean did not force me to do anything,” you purse your lips. “This place was hell, rough, deadly, and bloody, but your brother is a good man, a good alpha. Don’t you dare to talk about my Dean like that again.”

“Whoa, already at each other’s throat?” Dean snickers watching you point the butter knife at his brother. Dean’s heart swells as he heard every word, but Sam was not completely wrong – Dean thought the same.

“I clarified I defend my mate at all cost, and,” you feel the air shift, “someone’s coming, a strong being.”

“Sammy,” Dean grasps for his gun while Sam grabs the demon knife, ready to attack anyone coming through the door. “Stay behind, sweetheart.” Your alpha shoves you behind his back when the door flings open.

“You are hard to find,” Meg smirks, winking at the brothers who glare at the demon. “What? Aren’t we friends, boys? You know, I had to free myself. Not nice to keep me hanging. Now, are you ready to get the boy back and kick Crowley’s ass or not?”

“She’s strong, but needs a rest,” you whisper, fisting Dean’s plaid. “I can sense more demons coming closer. At least five, maybe more.”

“Well then, let’s hit the road,” Meg exclaims. “We find Kevin, beat Crowley into a pulp and have a nice manicure later.”

“I guess we are back in the game,” Sam nods at his elder brother. “Meg is right, we should leave before they run us over.”

“Ready if you are Sammy,” Dean grasps for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Y/N and me are close behind.”

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