#youre so sweet you bitch its giving me cavities | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-geek-librarian · 10 months ago

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Alright, I said I was gonna drop the Pokemon Au fic a d here you go! But before that disclaimer, the Oc's who's games you don't recognize belong to @t-f-t and @funky-sea-cryptid!! From their work blood of both is my limbo on Ao3 I highly recommend you read it!! Now with that put the way enjoy!

A crater, Lolopechka thought.

A large bowl-shaped cavity in the ground or on a celestial object, typically caused by an explosion. Or the impact of a meteorite. A hole that’s so deep it can swallow anything, both people and Pokémon alike. Looking through the Uva academy window her head crooked leaning on the palm of her hand she observed the Paldea region's most distinct feature which was surrounded by a ring of mounts “The Great Crater Of Paldea”, or Area Zero. Right now she was- or rather was ignoring her Battle Studies class, her eyes fixated on the crater whose top was covered by clouds almost like a pot. All the noises surrounding her were like a murmur She could tell that people were talking but she couldn't be bothered to make out what their saying.

Although she can guess that the two main people talking are: Professor Sarado and some other girl with a bit of a deep voice…. But it's rich in some way… kind of like a sweet with a tingle of bitterness, does that even make any sense? Ugh, she really really wants to go home right about now. A hard Smack fell on her shoulders which beyond scaring the shit out of Lolopechka almost made her glasses fall off her face (it hurt like a bitch too..). Turning to the right she saw Professor Sarado looking forward at the rest of the class before turning to face Lolopechka with a smile “Tho what Stella told us was correct, how about Lolopechka gives us some examples?” Sarado said with her hand still on Lolopechka's shoulder.

Oh boy…

“Come on Lolopechka how about you name me, 3 to 4 Pokemon that can do that, It's not that hard” Yeah it's not… but that can do what??? “Uhh..” she muttered looking around the classroom. All eyes were on her and she swore her Heart stopped, She curled her hand into a ball and swallowed hard against her throat. Looking a bit more to the right she noticed a girl, with freckles and long pink hair with some green accents that were tied up in braids, who was sitting at the front of the class waving at her. They made eye contact. The pink-haired girl then presided to put her hands in front of her then quickly spread them apart the same way a kid would to represent an explosion or something big with their arms.

An explosion or something big….. Before anything else, Lolopechka heard the sound of freedom. The bell, as its rings fills the halls and classrooms with the sound of chairs being pulled back accompanying it, Lolopechka breathed a sigh of relief. Looking up at her Professor who simply observed the class, removed her hand from Lolopechka’s shoulder, and walked back up to her desk. Lolopechka watched for a moment before leaning over to her left to grab her bag. Standing up with her bag over her shoulders she quietly and slowly tried to make her way to the classroom door. Lolopechka was about 90% sure she had managed to get a good 2 or 3 feet away from Professor Sarado’s desk. “ Lolopechka come here a moment please’’ she tensed up like she had been stabbed, before sighing in defeat and walking up to her professor's desk not daring to make eye contact.

Sarado breathed out heavily as she crossed her arms and looked at her student “So care to explain what that was?’’ she asked. Lolopechka turned her gaze to the billed board at the other side of the class “What was what?...” she replied sheepishly Sarado narrowed her eyes “Don’t answer my question with another question. And you know what I mean! You were out of it today Lolopechka more than usual too, I called your name like, 3 times before I went up to you…”

Lolopechka's eyes widened for a moment “Oh…” she said simply before scratching the back of her neck “Again Lolopechka are you sure your doing ok? Something going on at home?” Sarado questioned and put her hand on the student's shoulder. “If only there was someone at home for something to happen” Lolpechka murmured “Oh-“ Sarado exclaimed “Your mom still hasn’t come back from Sinnho?” Lolopechka just nodded. Sarado let out a small sigh “I see… well I shouldn't keep you here any longer. Just, do me a favor and focus as much as you can ok?” Sarado gave Lolopechka a smile. Really she’d like to know what possessed Miss Alexandria to leave her teen kid alone for such a long time but all Sarado could do in the meantime was just let the kid go and watch her walk out of her classroom. Both She and the director have tried to offer her to stay at the academy while her Mom is away for work but she denied them every single time. Sarado’s only guess was that she just preferred her privacy.

☆

-Click Clack-

Lolopechka turned the key to her house door and pushed it open. Moving to the side parallel to the door she let Umbreon walk in ahead of her. As it made its way inside Lolopechka closed the door behind her not bothering to say I’m home as there was no one to greet her. “You think I should have grabbed the Violet book?” It was at the library she had checked, she even held it in her arms... The only thing, the only piece of info that there is revolving around Area Zero though its contents are considered fantastical by many… But it’s the only thing Lolopechka has to go off of so that she can maybe have an idea as to what her poor Mother went through down there. Because she was going to go there herself be it through high or low waters. Umbreon turned to look at her with an ‘I told you so’ face and shouted at her in agreement. “Jezz Yeah I know you don’t have to shout at me about it” Lolopechka whined and sighed.

Walking over to the kitchen with Umbreon right behind her “I didn’t even get to thank that pretty girl for helping me in class Damn it” Over on the counter next to some other things there was Umbreon’s bag of food. Having spotted it among the several other things Lolopechka grabbed it and poured some on its bowl. Before pulling out a chair and sitting on it she watched Umbreon eat.

“…”

“Hey, Umbreon?”

“Brey?”

“Tomorrow wanna go get the Violet book and tell the Director that we are going to find our own treasure?” Lolopechka asked raising her eyebrow. Umbreon’s eyes lit up, its ears raised and it wagged its tail “Umbrey!!”. Lolopechka sat up “Ok then it's decided!!” she shouted raising her arm up. Students are forbidden from going to Area Zero she knows that but she needs to get away from things even for a little bit. Maybe she can have a chance to see that cute pink-haired girl again and properly thank her for trying to help her in class today. But first, she really should get herself something to eat looking over at the covers she is like…. 50% sure that she still has some instant Roman from her latest trip to the supermarket. Walking over to them she noticed Umbreon look at her with a deadpan stare with its ears slightly lowered “What?? It’s the only thing I have plus I ate out yesterday! You can't let good store food go to waste”

Umbreon looked up at its human and sighted knowing full well that one day she would regret what they just said

☆

Stella yawned as she stretched her back on the chair she had been sitting on for…. Gods, how long has she been doing this fucking biology work? Damn you to the pit Mr. Patorof Stella thought, as much of a nice guy as he is he should double down on the work he puts honestly. “Oi Stell watcha doing?” a scraggly voice called from behind her. Stella turned her head to be greeted by Futhark in all their messy-haired, tired-eyed, and baggy pants glory “Bio work, you look like shit by the way” Stella said laughing a bit “Hahaha how funny are you?” Futhark replied with an unamused tone “Im a fucking comedian” Stella proclaimed as she watched her sibling put their bag down to the side and walk over to where she was sitting “Where are the others?” Futhark asked as they put one hand on the table to lean on it, looking over their sister's work “Dolly is in their room, Ari left a hot minute ago with Ru, Magan, and Luck-“

“Gay ass” Futhark laughed

“True, Duckie is taking a bath, and well… Veasta isn’t back yet” she explained with some worry in her voice “They’re on their way. Perently there was a problem with the corviknight taxes today” Futhark simply said, “They called you?” Stella asked “No I hit them up like 5 minutes ago” They turned to look at Stella “Why?” Futhark asked “Well… I called them, got no reply, and got a lil worried” The Only thing Stella heard was Futhark laughing “Hell’s so funny??” She shouted blushing a bit “Oh- Nothing just Hahaha, I feel a bit stupid right now that’s all” Futhark said rubbing the bridge of their nose. Looking up at the brown ceiling above them

“Hey Futhark?? You ok?” Stella asked looking up at her sibling “Yeah, Yeah I'm fine don’t worry about it “ Futhark sighed turning their head to look at their sister taking note of the circles under her eyes, was she tired? Sad? Or perhaps both. They know Stella and what that Garbodor of a man meant to her despite everything. But he was gone now… lost in a hole of his own creation. It was for the better, though, for their siblings and all their Pokemon. “Hey Stella? At the Uva Academy isn’t there something students can do to ya’ know get out there for a bit??” Futhark questioned

Stella narrowed her eyes perplexed by her siblings' question “You mean the treasure hunt? Yeah, you go out for a bit and ‘find your own treasure’ or some shit” She replied raising her eyebrow “Why?” she asked leaning forward a bit “You interested or somthn’?”

“I'm thinking maybe it would be a good idea for you to do that get out there for a hot sec. Clare your head” Futhark proclaimed. They had just moved a month ago after all it…was a big change so it may do her some good. Stella widened her eyes for a moment before looking down at her work. Going out on her own “What about stuff here?? I’d feel bad leaving you to handle things alone-”. Before she could finish Futhakr placed their hand on her head and started messing with her hair “Don’t be stupid Stell, I'm not alone I've got Vasta too, and besides it won't be too long we can handle ourselves for a couple of days without you” they grinned

“Hey!!!” Stella shouted in protest grabbing Futhark's hand and pulling it off her head giggling. “I- I'll think about it.” She said trying to fix her now messy hair. Futhark sighed scratching the back of their neck “Alright, just tell us when you made ya decision ok?”.

“Yeah, Yeah I will you ass”

“Oi watch your mouth you lil shit” Futhark teased walking over to the staircase Stella just laugh and looked out the window to see a flock of Pidgeotto flying by,

"I don't care if you are my children or not!"

"All that I want is my precious beast! I don't care about any of the rest of you!"

Maybe going out there would do her some good…

☆

Glaseado Mountain, Lolopechka read on her Rotom phone the tallest mountain in the Paldea region, located in the region's North Province, It is covered by snow constantly all year round. Walking with hard steps on the snow-covered ground she sighed. She really should have taken Gajah up on the offer to take his old snow boots but Nooooo it would be fine she said and now she can't feel her feet which is just lovely and to think she is only in the Southern Mountain and the snow is so much…. “Umrey, Brey brey?” Umbreon called next to Lolopechka with some worry in its voice. Lolopechka turned her attention to her dear partner and gave it a small smile “Yeah don’t worry Umbreon I’m fine”. Moving her eyes to the left she looked over at the crater- at Area Zero and she felt a knot form in her stomach. Beating her bottom lip she sensed Umbreon clawing at her pants “Umrey!! Umrey!! Eon!!” Umbeon shouted at her trying to get her to focus. Lolopechka looked back down to her partner and patted it on top of the blue ring on its head “Right yeah I hear you bud” she sighed One day… one day damn it all.

°˖✧+✧˖°

Stella traded through the snow playfully and carefully, hoping around in a zigzag pattern. Minior floating right behind her in its core from the noise it let out sounding like an array of bells “ Hahaha yeah I hear you Minior!! There was no place like this in Alola! Differently not in Dad’s shitty island!” Stella giggled. It felt nice getting a breath of air. She stopped, taking a deep breath and exhaling, It felt different, like… something that had been clogging her throat had just been removed.

Glaseado Mountains' southern side of mountain rings, heck you even have a pretty good view of the Paldean crater too!! It's nice. “Hey Minior you think a house would be nice here? Like a private lil get-away” Stella looked over at her friend- her partner since she was a kid. Minior jingled with delight floating around Stella’s head spinning in circles “Hehe glad you agree bud Now let's get-“Looking forward she saw not too far from her a pair of footprints in the snow. Moving closer to them Stella grinned they weren’t fresh but not that old either “You think we got company up here bud?” she commented staring up at Minior. It jingled a bit slower this time “Come on, I don’t think it’s the bad kind… could be another student, could be that pretty blue-eyed girl with the glasses from class I tolled ya’ ‘bout” she said winking at her partner. Minior only gave her a disagreeing jingle, Stella standing up scoffed “Well I guess you have a point… what are the odds?” she sighed “Let's keep going k’?” she said, motioning for Minior to fowl her.

°˖✧+✧˖°

“ok… Let's see here” Lolopechka said, Umbreon sitting next to her quietly watching. She had managed to find a good spot to set up for the night. A nice clear field without too many ridges or lumps, she had spent a good half hour clearing up the snow to make some space for her tent, but setting that up had proved to be a difficult task all on its own. Laying out the footprint was not hard she just had to put it on the spot she (somehow) cleared up, then just put the body of the tent on top of the footprint matching up the corners and making sure the door was in the right direction. Up to this point, it was easy, but inserting the metal pols into the tent and locking them into place was…. Not as easy to say the least of it.

With hard steps, Stella pushed up to her knees making her way up a snowy little hill Minior right next to her. She had been wandering for a good half hour looking for a good place to set up camp, the sun was just about to set too… She had managed to lose track of time wandering around the Paldean mountain she even saw some cute little baby Cubchoo and the Mama Beartic playing around in the snow… It's nice knowing those little guys will have a better relationship with their parents than she or her siblings did with theirs… but she can't help the tingle of jealousy in her stomach.

Umbreon’s ears flinched for a moment as it turned its head to the right. Having heard the sound of someone or something walking in the snow making a distinctive crunching sound. “Umrey!! Umrey!!” Umbreon called out trying to get Lolopechka’s attention “Yes, I hear you Umbreon. What?” Lolopechka replied looking down at her partner

Having made almost it to the top of the little hill Stella heard Minior who was a bit ahead of her jingle in surprise “Huh? What’s up bud?” she asked looking up at it.

Umbreon motioned its head to the right Lolopechka raised her eyebrow but didn’t bother to argue and looked to her right

Giving one final push to her keen Stella made it up the hill and turned her gaze up.

Pink and green hair

Blue eyes and glasses

”You’re that girl from class”, both girls said in unison.

Stella smiled wide, turning to Minior, and laughed “Ahhahaha!! Told you so dumbass” she shouted whizzing a bit. Putting her hand up to her chest trying to catch her breath, Minior jingled at her in annoyance, floating up close to her face pushing itself on her as Stella tried to grab it and push it away. Lolopechka blinked a couple of times in surprise. She wasn’t expecting herself to find another person up here, not a student no less… especially not a classmate. She looked on as the pink and green-haired girl turned her head looked at her and smiled at her “Hey ya’! I wasn’t expecting to see another person up here ‘specially not a classmate” Now that was an idea Lolopechka and her classmate shared.

Walking up to the raven-haired girl, Stella looked behind her, noticing the not-made tent. Guess she was having a hard time with it. “Anywho, I'm Stella, Stella Tridentarius and this is Minior. You are? “ she asked gesturing to Minior who jingled happily. Having one hand on her side and raising the other one for a handshake. It took Lolopechka a moment to properly process the question before answering “Oh! Uhh, I’m Lolopechka Leviathan This here is Umbreon. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stella!” She laughed nervously shaking Stella’s hand as Umbreon just watched as she gave Stella a crooked smile. “Lo-lo-pech-ka huh? that’s a pretty name” Stella smiled and winked, Lolopechka felt heat rising to her cheeks “OH- um, T-thank you I think your name is nice too!”.

Stella lightly giggled and took a small step to the left looking behind Lolopechka “Thank you too. Having problems with that tent over there?” She asked turning her gaze to her busing classmate. “oh That…” Lolopechka looked behind her to the mess of fabrics and pols. She let out a heavy sigh and put her hand on her neck “Yeah… I’m not the best with this kind of thing” Gods this is so embarrassing, she’s so much prettier up close, she has freckles too I didn’t notice that before and she thinks my name is pretty??? Me?? Oh- I didn’t plan for- “I can help if you want ya’ know” Stella proclaimed with a smirk “ I know a thing or two about making this thing” Lolopechka blinked having just come back to reality “I- seriously? would really appreciate that Stella!”

“Sure no prob’ but this usually takes two people so I’ll need a hand” Stella replied taking off her backpack and putting it on the snowy ground beneath her “And then maybe you could help me with my tent too, if you would be so kind” Lolopechka nodded with delight “Of course!!” now she can finally make the damn thing and rest a bit. It feels better though… it not just being Lolopechka and Umbreon alone maybe this unexpected turn of events could be for the better. Night had already fallen when they managed to put up both tents side by side. Now they were sitting just outside of their respective tents sitting on the ground. Umbreon had fallen fast asleep on Lolopechka’s lap and Minior was in Stella's tent ‘hogging all the blankets’ as she put it.

“Hey Lolopechka, I've got two questions for you,” Stella said not turning her gaze away from the night stars. Lolopechka turned her head to look at her… friend? Classmate? Or were they just acuteness… “Yeah sure go ahead” she replied with a smile “Ok so, A) can I call you Lolo? And B) why did you come up here? ‘cause I got a feeling that it's not to ‘find your own treasure’ or shit like that” Lolopechka’s eyes widened for a second before looking down at her sleeping partner in her lap… Was she selfish to come here for such a small and stupid reason? She’d been wondering that all day. “Well… A) Yes I have no problem with that so go ahead and… B) Hehe, it is for a very selfish reason, you were right” she giggled as she rubbed her eyes, gods she was so tired. The only thing she heard as Stella laughed in response “Nah don’t worry too much about it… Everyone is a lil selfish at times, and it's ok. You just need to keep it in check and make sure you're not selfish all the time… ‘cause that's a 100% granted way to push everyone away from you”

Stella sighed, so much for trying not to overthink things again “Move aside Stella, you wouldn't understand the importance of this-“.

“Personal experience?” Lolopechka asked with a gentle voice. Stella looked at her for a moment, before looking back up at the stars “I'd rather not talk about it…” she whispered, Lolopechka just nodded they had just met after all. She wasn’t expecting her to spill her heart out to Lolopechka on their first proper conversion. “I understand, so a change of subject then. Where are you from? I haven't seen you around the academy for the first part of the semester” They were in the middle of it now, so unless she was stupid as hell Stella had to be a new student at the academy, from Alola maybe? She has a Minior you can't find them outside of the Alolen Islands. Stella looked over at her classmate and smiled “Yeah, you got that right I'm not from here. I moved here from Alola with my siblings” so Lolopechka was right “Oh! You have siblings? That sounds nice” Lolopechka said, the closest thing she had was her cousins but even then they weren’t so close and didn’t get to see each other often despite living in Paldea “Yeah it really is, I have 5 siblings” Stella remarked. Lolopechka felt her jaw drop 5?? She thought as she looked down at her hand trying to do the math around that, Stella whizzed hard at her classmate's response “Hahahaha! Oh my god your face- oh my stomach hurts… Ya’ never heard of a family that big huh?” she grinned.

“No- I can't say I have” That means there are 6 people living under one roof… and if you include their parents… 8 good gods how does she manage? Lolopechka lives alone most of the time and she can hardly look after herself. “And I can't really blame you, I have two older siblings Vesta and Futhark along with them I have three younger siblings Doleur, Aries, and Kelpie with me being the middle child” Stella explained “What about your parents?” Lolopechka asked curiously it was a stupid question, she was expecting Stella to say something like Oh of course who doesn’t live with their parents? But instead, Stella's eyes widened for a second before looking down at her boots with sad eyes. Lolopechka looked at her for a moment and starched her arm out to pat her back “AH- oh I’m sorry!! You don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable! I didn’t mean to-“

“Nah, don’t beat yourself up about it” Stella replied, gently moving Lolopechka’s hand off her back “It's just- me and my sibling we… live alone, we don’t have a good relationship with our dad” Stella sighed looking back up at the stars “Tho I don’t expect you to-“

“I get it” Lolopechka intubated making Stella turn to her with so surprise “I- My Mom died when I was 10 and me and my Ma haven’t been so close ever since…” she said looking down at the sleeping Umbrepn in her lap. “… Lolo I-“ Stella tried to say something anything for a matter a fact… but how was she supposed to reply to this? To help? “Its ok Stella. Don’t worry too much about it” It was along time ago anyway so it wouldn't matter to most people “You sure?” Stella insisted and Lolopechka just nodded. Ok so they both have a bad relationship with their parents… really not what Stella was expecting them to bond over but shit now she needs to find a way to make this covo less sad- “Your Minior if you don’t mind me asking what color is it?” looks like Lolopechka beat her to it. “Oh! Uhh it’s a shiny actually so its black” Stella said laughing a bit. “Isn't your Umbreon a shiny too?” she wanted to ask but they got so caught up in their sad lil convo that she forgot

“Yeah they are me and Umbreon have been together since I was a baby so were very close” Lolopechka explend rubbing her eyes trying not to yawn “Huh that sounds nice” Stella said taking note of the almost-yawn that escaped her classmate “It’s gotten late so I think I’ll be heading off” Stella proclaimed standing up. Lolopechka smiled and picked up Umbreon into a hug before mustering the strength to get up “Yeah agreed”

“Goodnight Lolo”

“Goodnight Stella”

#black clover #Pokemon Au #THIS MF IS BIG DAMN #God this was so fun to make i forgot

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channoticedmeuwu · 4 years ago

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hi kai 💕 dropping in to say hello, i love you, i think you're older than me but oof mwah you're so tinie and cute and just. what a lovely moot bean and how blessed i am and how absolutely wonderful it is to know you. ily ily ily ily xhowever many times you need to hear it. ily, eat a bowl of ramen, i'm here if you want to talk to me!! a fun song lyric: 😤 AYYY 🤑 WE 😎 BALLIN ⚾ WE 😤 FIGHT 🤪 TOGETHER 🤬 THAT 😌 PUNCH 👊

storm. I am currently very much dyING this is adorable ;; I love you so mUCH TOO AND OH NY GOOOD YOU DID NOT JUST CALL ME A BEAN don't touch me like yOURE SO MF CUTE and I actually enjoy it alot whenever we interact yoURE SO FUN AND I LOVE YOU TOOOOOO :((((((

and bitch, were ballin, neos could nEVER

#ask kai #storm ☄️#youre so sweet you bitch its giving me cavities #actually no? i think im younger than you?

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tea-stained-notes · 3 years ago

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Bucky Barnes x Reader - Sugar

Just a quick drabble cause this bitch was doing a lip scrub and her mind went ooohhh lol

Warnings: the purest of fluffs, might give you cavities

Word Count: ~700

“Y/N, you’re staring,” Bucky smirked without looking up from his book. We were lounging on my bed for one of our regular reading nights. I had proposed them months ago when he had confessed that he used to love reading but couldn’t find the ease to really sink into a story anymore. I on the other hand had never considered reading a solitary activity. In fact I found silence distracting, thus always ending up around the other Avengers in the kitchen or common room, curling up on the couch while they chatted away. It was silent during nights like these, but Bucky’s soft breathing, turning of the pages and occasional gasp or chuckle created an entire symphony of its own. I had always liked him, crushed on him a little even, but only when we started spending these quiet hours together did I find myself truly falling for him. Sometimes we would read each other particularly funny or beautiful passages, spiral into deep discussions or even have movie nights with adaptations of books we had both read — usually bitching about everything wrong with them the entire time. He had become my best friend. My best friend that I wanted to kiss. Constantly. Which is how we had wound up like this, Bucky seemingly lost in a story while I was staring at his lips. “Yeah, I’m staring cause your lips are chapped as hell,” I said quickly. It wasn’t a lie either. Though I was still desperate for his touch, rough lips be damned. “It’s winter, of course they’re dry. And chapstick isn’t working.” “Chapsticks are a scam, have I taught you nothing? They’re literally designed to dry your lips out even further so that you keep buying them. You should try shea butter instead. And do lip scrubs.” “What the fuck is a lip scrub?” Bucky laughed, finally putting down his novel. “You’ve never done one? They’re the best!” I jumped off the bed, pulling him up by the hand. “Come on, we’ll do one.” “Now?” he groaned but let himself be dragged into the ensuite. I rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out a small bowl, a bottle of olive oil and a jar of sugar. “You keep oil and sugar in your bathroom? Are you hiding an oven in here as well?” I smacked him in the chest. “Don’t be an ass. Homemade cosmetics are awesome.” I mixed a little oil and sugar in the bowl, dipped my finger in and scrubbed my lips over the sink. Bucky was watching me in confusion. I suppressed a grin and rinsed off the sugar, then licked off the sweet residue. “See, good as new.” “They looked fine to me before.” “True, with you we’ll have a proper before and after. Come on.” He gave me another quizzical look, then copied my behaviour. Afterwards he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his face morphing into utter surprise. “What the hell? They feel so fucking nice, feel this,” he said, bringing my fingers to his mouth. My heart stuttered as I gently ran my thumb over the soft pink skin. Bucky stilled, a blush forming on his cheeks as he realised what kind of position he had brought us into. Our eyes locked and I wondered if I imagined his pupils dilating. But before I could be sure, my gaze was pulled back down to his lips. “They’re perfect.” Goosebumps swept up my arms and neck. He was so close. He smelled so intoxicating. And his mouth looked so damn kissable. I forced my eyes back up but found him staring at my own lips. “Y/N…” “Please,” I whispered. The space between us collapsed into nothingness until we finally met in an impossibly gentle kiss. Stars exploded in my chest as I breathed in deeply, trying to soak up everything about him. He tasted sweet and warm and I wanted to live in this moment forever. After a while Bucky pulled back slightly, his bright gaze finding mine. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he mumbled. “Me too.” “Really?” I nodded as I caressed his stubbly jaw. “And what if I told you that I wanted to keep doing it?” he smiled. “I would tell you that you’d have to keep your lips this goddamn soft.” We both grinned. “Anything for you, sugar.”

_____________

MASTERLIST

#bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky friends to lovers #bucky imagine #soft bucky #fluff #bucky

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akatsukinojutsu · 4 years ago

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ringing in the new year -- pain (repost)

You spend a mission with Pain scouting out the Jinchuuriki and it’s New Year’s Eve. You complain about never having a New Year’s kiss…

(not the winner of my Holiday 2020 but I just have to post more Pain as this is from my oc’s story! i’m a dirty bitch so – NSFW content below – enjoy) (tumblr really wants to make me angry)

The night dragged on as you followed Pain in the shadows of Konohagakure. He wanted to get close to the Uzumaki boy to get some observations for himself. Because the man is who he is, he never tired or felt sluggish. You on the other hand were on your last stretch, ready to collapse in exhaustion if given the opportunity.

“Please, Pain – can we stop for a moment?” you huffed out and leaned on a tall rock. The two of you were on the outskirts of the village and the moonlight was the only thing that lit the dark woods. This moonlight reflected off of his ringed, purple eyes and it was as if they had light coming from within them.

“I suppose,” he gave a small smile then proceeded to climb on top of another tall stone and took a seat. “I believe we got enough done for the day,” he added. You shuffled towards him and crawled your way up to join him on the rock.

You placed your hand on his thigh and gave him a small smile. “You know, it’s almost New Year’s,” you paused, “As in, it is tomorrow.” Pain looked up to the stars in the sky and hummed, “I believe that you’re correct.”

Loud sounds from the village in the leaves echoed through the trees which validated the eve of the holiday was today. Soon bright, colorful streams of light shot up from behind the mountain that surrounded the village. Followed not long after the streams of lights were colors exploding in the sky in a variety of designs. Your eyes lit up in a childlike wonder as you had never seen this explosive display in your years. A wow escaped your lips as a small smile tweaked the corners of your mouth.

Pain observed your reaction over the fireworks that were continuously erupting in the horizon. They were so bright that their color shined through the trees and lit up the area around the two criminal shinobi.

With your eyes not leaving the skyline, you sighed a breath. “You know, I’ve never got one of those kisses that I’ve heard of before. The one that you’re supposed to get tonight,” your bottom lip pouted a bit and you propped your chin up with a closed fist.

The God among men pondered on your words and his body seemed to move on its own as he grabbed your wrist from under your chin; which he then proceeded to place his lips on yours. His cool lower lip piercings cause the skin on your face to tingle. You obviously were shocked by his actions but quickly fell into him. Your tongues wrestled with one another and the metal ball that pierced the muscle in his mouth clicked against your teeth.

He stopped kissing you and proceeded to pinch your cheeks with his thump and index finger. Pain pulled away with your bottom lip clenched lightly between his teeth. Warmth rushed from your head all the way to between your legs. Your appendages felt numb as the erotic feelings caused your head to swim.

“How was that?” he whispered, his warm breath burned your numbed skin. Your lips parted to speak but only a small squeak was able to voice. His lips curled to a smirk, “I take that as a compliment.”

However, the knot in your stomach did not go away once Pain removed his tongue from your mouth. It grew in intensity and you wadded the fabric of your cloak in your fingers. Your legs cross tightly as your ankles lock around each other in an ironclad lock.

It was Pain’s turn to be caught off guard because you quickly threw yourself on him. Your lips locked with his quickly and the kisses that you exchanged were desperate as well as sloppy. The two of you tumbled off the rock and slammed into the ground, Pain was beneath you and insisted that he was okay through breaks in his heavy breathing.

The orange haired shinobi took no patience in unbuttoning your cloak but instead tore the fabric away with his hands. He ripped the fabric away with ease and discarded it to the side, “Kakuzu can order a new one,” he commented as he placed his lips to your neck. His mouth formed around your supple skin and sucked which left behind bright red circles. “Just marking you – you’re mine, [Y/N].” You wiggled under his hold but his strength far surpassed yours.

Pain gripped your right thigh tightly and wrapped it around his waist. He pressed himself harshly against your pelvis and you could feel the hard member in his trousers twitch wildly. His mouth ravaged the space between your breasts as he bit and sucked. Your hands quickly made their way to his fiery mane where you tugged and ruffled his spikey locks.

Soon the clothes that you were wearing under the Akatsuki’s uniformed cloak were quickly discarded by Pain’s hands freeing them from your body. You laid on the cold ground nude and stared up to him. His purple eyes examined your body hungerly and he licked his lips as he pondered what step to take next. Pain proceeded to remove his cloak and top, his strong muscles gleamed in the moonlight as the moon’s rays shined off his sweat stained skin.

Your palms explored his chiseled form and your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the thought of how they’ll feel pressed up against your frame.

“Are you ready to feel the cock of a god?” he asked in almost a hiss. You were speechless and simply nodded your head slowly as your teeth bit into your lower lip. Pain stood up and beamed down at you, his body blocking the moonlight which casted a shadow over your body.

He loved seeing you like this – naked and just aching for him. Pain pondered if he should tease you more – watch you writhe around in bliss as he broke down your will even more by tasting your sweet. The man decided to act on this sinful thought, teasing you even more while giving you some pleasure.

Pain quickly removed his trousers and his erect member sprung the instant that it was free from its fabric trap. You took note of the black chakra rods which decorated the underside of his shaft - the entire length down to where it met his balls. There was excitement yet fear as to how they would feel being pounded into your being.

“But before we get to that, I want to taste you,” he dropped to his knees then grabbed hold of the back of yours. He threw your legs over his broad shoulders and proceeded to yank you toward him. He pulled up on your body which positioned you into an almost upside down orientation.

Pain quickly made his way to your clit and went to town on the sensitive bud. You tasted like honey to him and he wanted to be the only source of this dripping sweetness. It was as if you were struck by lightening, the sensation that his oral stimulation was doing to you left you a blubbering mess. You cried his name out, having to place your hands behind your head to keep you propped up correctly (but Pain would never let you fall). You weren’t sure if it was the blood pooling in your cranium or the cool touch of his pierced flicking tongue but you were seeing stars.

“Ugh, I’m gonna–,” you huffed out, gnawing on your tongue in frustration. Once Pain heard this, he immediately stopped. “What the fuck?” you cursed as you were angry at your orgasm denial. Your leader harshly grabbed the cheeks of your face again between his first two digits and squeezed, “You are only to cum around my cock, the cock of an all powerful god.” he held onto the syllables of the last words.

Pain drops you to the ground lightly and quickly he picks you up by your ass cheeks. He holds you tightly against his body. His member taps itself on your lower half as if it were reminding you of the pounding it will be delivering to your insides. Pain nearly slams you up against the tall rock that the two of you were perched on earlier.

He kissed you with force and proceeded to suck on your tongue. You complied but when he finally thrusted himself into you, your teeth bit down onto his tongue at the shock of it. Pain paid no attention to it as a matter of fact it actually sent ripples of erotic warmth throughout his body. He also did not give you time to adjust to his girth; he wasn’t abnormally long but it was quite wide and enough to stretch your pelvic muscles.

Instinctually, you wrapped your arms around his torso and your legs around his waist.

Pain thrust upward into your body with all his strength, the bottom of his shaft was firmly pressed against your entrance. His ringed eyes never closed nor moved from their rested fixation on your face. He watched as your expressions contorted in a variety of different emotions, ranging from ecstasy to exhaustion. The sound of his balls slapping harshly against your skin echoed through the trees and you stifled your moans and gasps. “Open your mouth,” he insisted, the man wanted to hear your full vocals. He wanted to hear you scream his name and hoped that anyone who might be around would hear it as well.

Your lips parted slightly but it wasn’t good enough for him. Pain thrusted his fingers into your mouth which caused you to gag slightly. “Suck and scream, I wanna hear it,” he huffed out between thrusts. You obeyed and sucked on the several digits that were pressed into your oral cavity. You croaked out his name in between loud gasps, “P-Pain!”

Pain could feel his climax approaching and decided that he wanted to dominate you completely before the end arrived. With his cock still fully inserted in between your slick walls, he moved you from the rock’s wall to the ground once again. You thought he wanted missionary but that was not the case. He removed himself from you and instructed you to sit on your hands and knees.

His fingers gripped onto your hair as you turned your body away from him. Your ass was now facing him and he grabbed hold of your ass cheeks. He slapped each one harshly with the same hand which caused you to coo out in lust.

Pain dug his painted nails into your flesh and yanked you toward him. He heaved himself backward and with one quick motion, thrust himself back into his cock’s new home. You called out his name and pressed yourself back on him which each pump that he delivered. With each syllable that you were able to croak out, it fueled his drive even more. You hung your head over your arms that were keeping your upper half propped up and you mouth was agape due to your heavy breathing. Pain could hear your heavy breaths and proceeded to stick the fingers of both of his hands into your mouth.

His fingers explored the area again before the index finger of each hand gripped the corners of your cheeks and pulled. Your mouth was pried open from either side and Pain used this as a sort of handle on you. He moaned your name for the first time during this whole fucking, “[Y/N]…,” he hummed as his climax came to a boil. With one final hard smack of his cock, he held himself against you with one hand still grasping your cheek and the other now around your throat.

The cum erupted from his member and coated your insides in thick ropes. You could feel the warmth from within and could feel his appendage jerk around as it spilled his load. Pain did not remove himself until he was sure that his seed was completely emptied. Once he did pull out, he spread your ass cheeks to observe the white fluid barely peeking out from your body; he was satisfied.

You collapsed onto the ground and felt your heartbeat in your throat, your chest heaved heavily as your breaths burned your chest. You had never felt such a rush of ecstasy in your life, your orgasm didn’t arrive until after Pain was finished with his. You laid there as the tingling feeling in your lower region spread out and reached your toes. Pain stuck a finger inside of your hole and wiggled it around before removing it; then placed the digit into your mouth.

“Happy New Year’s, [Y/N].”

#naruto imagines #pain imagines #pein imagines #pain x reader #naruto x reader #naruto #pain naruto #pein naruto #pein #pls tumblr be nice to me

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jangofctts · 5 years ago

Text

Madness (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Smut, handjobs, language, sex, creampies, Poe Dameron is a warning in its self, slight description of blood/injury

A/N: sorry that this is a day late y’all. I'm v sick and high on nyquill yehaww brothers

This is not your fault.

Oh, Stars, but it is.

You bury your fingers, blackened with motor oil, into your hair and fold into yourself. You wish you could disappear. Wouldn't that be a fucking miracle and a half? You spare another glance at the destroyed droid and with a despaired wail, you bury your face into your knees again.

What the fuck were you thinking?

See, it started out fine, like most things do. But of course, like always, it turned out to be a real garbage fire. No, not even that. It was worse than a garbage fire. All you wanted to do was help out, and with the slowly dwindling amount of pilots available, you are pushed to the side. No pilots, no mechanics.

Droid maintenance is not your forte, but Kaydel Ko had specifically asked for your help and of course being the blubbering mess you are, you couldn't say no. All it took was a sweet, helpless smile and then boom! Here you are, stuck with a First Order droid with a processing chip all but fucking obliterated.

You thought it'd be easy to rewire the little BB unit, but the spunky little thing had its very own arsenal of weapons. Your legs and hands are a mess of electrical burns and tiny slashes that sting much worse than a papercut and steadily ooze blood. It would absolutely not stay still, so you resorted to a makeshift prison made out of duct tape and bungee chords until you could sort of pry into the droid's mainframe. You toyed with one wire at most and the droid spun its little head around, knocked the tweezers clean out of your hand, tore three more wires and with a disheartening woop; exploded in your face.

You aren't really thinking straight the moment you decide that hiding the blasted thing would be a grand idea. So, with your face covered in black soot and your hands bordering being numb, you scoop the destroyed droid up and sprint out of the base. You do have some luck, you figure. You run into nobody in the hallways leading outside; no one to see your absolute disaster that you plan on chucking into the dense forest.

You beeline towards the X-Wings and just as you think that you'd finally, finally be done with this whole mess, your worst nightmare appears.

Poe Dameron in all his neon orange jumpsuited glory steps out behind the body of his X-Wing. Right in your path of destruction. It's inevitable, really. The first syllable of watch out is barely out of your mouth before he even comprehends you're there and then you're crashing into him, faster than fucking lightspeed.

The resounding 'oof' as you barrel into him will no doubt haunt your dreams, and you have just enough time to watch as the droid bounces on the ground, spraying sparks everywhere, then disappear into the underbrush, before Poe collapses on you. At least one of your problems is solved.

"What the hell?"

You would ask the same thing, but the entirety of Poe's weight focused on your back is doing a splendid job of crushing your lungs. Your hand shoots back and slaps at whatever it can. "P-poe! Can't breath!"

"Aw, shit. Sorry, kid."

You heave in precious air once he unravels himself out of the pickle you've put yourself in and before you know it, he hooks an arm underneath your armpit and hauls you up. He takes one good look at you, up and down, and has to bite his lip to keep his smile away. Not like it does much good.

"You—uh—ok, kid?" He coughs, trying real hard.

You throw your hands up. "Oh! Go ahead and laugh! That's all I'm good for anyway!"

What little pride you have left rapidly dwindles but as his shoulders shake in uncontrollable laughter that morphs into one of those laughs where you can't breathe, you can't help but smile yourself. Poe's glee is contagious (even if you are the butt of it) and you're glad you can give him some comedic relief. The days are getting darker, more friends are dying, and it's harder to put on a smile, even for Poe. It's a rare and special moment to provide some momentary happiness.

Eventually his chuckles taper off. He's folded over, clutching his stomach as tears shine at the corners of his eyes. "You—you!"

Another fit of giggles consume him after taking another peek at your face. "Wha—what ha-happened?"

You huff and cross you arms over your chest. Try as you might to appear irked, a lopsided grin still lines your face. "That is none of your business."

Poe wipes at his eyes and stands, his chest still heaving. "You're the one who tackled me. The least you could do is tell me."

"I did not tackle you," you scoff. "You were in the way!"

He's still smiling as he shakes his head. "Yeah, whatever. Kaydel Ko asked you to rewire that FO droid, right?"

You grimace. "No."

He raises a brow and ruffles your unruly hair. "Sure, kid."

Poe takes a glance at where the droid launched into the trees and points. "C'mon, I think it went over there."

To your horror he seizes your upper arm and drags you forward. Oh. nonononono. You dig your heels in but Poe is persistent and you're quickly coming to terms with your impeding doom and ridicule, so you let him take you.

It's easy to find. The droid is still smoking and sparking, looking oh so sad nestled between a tree and a large fern. Poe starts laughing again.

"The hell d'you do to the poor thing? Run it over with a pod-racer?"

"Something like that," you mumble.

Poe scoops it up and the damage looks even more devastating when he's holding it. You chew your lip and sigh as he hands it back. "Thanks, I guess."

With an amused 'mhm' he once again places a hand on your shoulder and wheels you out of the forest. You don't mean to tense up (a force of habit really) as his thumb whispers over your shoulder blade, but the damage is done and his hand drops. You want to wack yourself with a stick.

You pause by his X-Wing. "Hey, I'm sorry for, y'know tackling you. Also, th-thank you..."

He flashes you a smile and shrugs. "No biggie, Sparky."

You scowl. "Don't call me that."

That pulls out another laugh and then he's staring at you. Those big brown eyes, so warm and deep like the richness of the soil, capture yours as if they have their own gravitational pull. All grasp on words slip your mind and you're left to wrestle with your tongue into saying something. Why is he looking at you like that?

"I can help."

You blink. "What?"

"With the droid, I mean," he offers. You swear you can see the skin underneath his collar flush red. Poe Dameron blushing. Hm.

You have absolutely no clue why you agree, but his bright smile is enough to launch your heart against your ribcage.

"Great. I'll let Kaydel know we'll have it done by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" You squeak. Fat chance.

Before you can argue, he ruffles your hair again and shoots off. "Meet you at 1900 in maintenance!"

You glance down at the droid. The hole in its head sparks. "Oh, Stars."

=-=-=-=

You're pacing by the time 1850 rolls around, your stomach a mess of knots and twists. You don't want Poe Dameron to help you. In fact, you don't want him here at all!

You're clean at least. The black soot covering your face was a bitch to scrub off and there's still some of it hiding in the lines of your skin, but it's the best you can do. Not that you care. Well, you shouldn't care what Poe thinks. You know each other—scratch that. You know him from the years spent in the Resistance, because, well, he's Poe Dameron. As for yourself, you're 99.9 percent positive the only reason he happens to know your name is because there's only fifteen of you still alive following the aftermath of Crait. Kinda hard not to know your fellow survivors.

You never minded it. You're used to being alone, pushed to the side where you could blend in like a shadow. Really, it's the only reason why you managed to escape the First Order. No one paid you half a mind when you slipped inside that ship and piloted away. Well...you were shot at shortly after, but that's not important.

You're not paying attention--lost inside your head again when the blast doors swoosh open. You don't even fucking see him until you collide head on for the second time today. With a strangled yelp, you both stumble and trip over a flailing limb here and a hidden wire there. The whole debacle ends up with you smacking the back of your head devastatingly hard on the duracrete floor and with Poe's entire weight once again crushing down on your chest cavity.

"Holy shit, Sparky," he groans. His head is nestled in the crook of your neck and if you weren't seeing stars spinning in your fucking orbit, you'd have the decency to be embarrassed. "You trying to kill me?"

"Un-Unsuc-successfully," you wheeze. "How-how m'I doing?"

He pulls away just a fraction, hovering so close that you feel his nose brush against yours. "A for effort. Though, I don't think you're really cut out to be an assassin. Might wanna reconsider that career path."

"Agreed."

Fuck. Your head is pounding. You don't even get to enjoy the way Poe feels pressed against you, or how good he smells. Maker, he smells good, something warm and woodsy, but fuck, you are in so much pain. Are you bleeding? You're pretty sure you're bleeding.

"Did you hit your head?" He asks, his plush lips twitching into a frown. He still hasn't moved from the current position of lying between your legs and it makes everything worse.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he huffs. "I heard your head smack the ground, Sparky. Lemme see it."

Poe peels himself off of you and tugs you into a sitting position. You reel and squeeze your eyes shut as nausea punches through your gut and the edges of your vision go a bit fuzzy. Damn, you really did not plan on getting a concussion today, nor have Poe Dameron be the one to patch you up.

He sits behind you and as his calloused fingers sweep across the back of your neck, you tense up. Poe hesitates then, his fingertips ghost above the skin, barely there and you try to relax. Years spent in an organization where corporal punishment is encouraged will surely make one hesitant of touch and try as you might, it's a hard habit to curve.

"I'm just checking to see if you're bleeding," Poe says softly noting your tension. "Is that ok?"

You nod and wave his concerns away. "Yeah, s'fine."

He cradles the back of your neck in one calloused palm while the other gently cards through your hair. He sucks in an audible wince and icy panic floods your veins. He must sense your apprehension because his thumb unconsciously begins to rub tiny circles onto your skin.

"Don't freak out... But you have a teeny, tiny cut," he tells you. "Microscopic, really."

You're gonna die. Maker, you're gonna die because of that stupid fucking droid. You're going to smash that fucker into smithereens even if it's the last thing you do. You try and move, eyes locked on the piece of junk across the room, but Poe is hurriedly pushing you back down.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!" His hands are like metal clamps on your shoulders and you grunt in irritation. "Just sit. I'll go get a medkit. Nothing a little bacta won't fix."

He's right. You're overreacting, but that droid's beady little eye seems to sparkle with smug satisfaction at your demise. You glare and swear revenge.

Behind you, Poe runs to the wall where the kit hangs and hurries back with the spray on bacta canister. You barely feel it coat the back of your skull and then he's done. "See, I told you. It's already healing."

"Wow, thank the Maker that the joke of the Resistance is saved," you sigh. You reach up to touch the dully throbbing area but Poe smacks your hand away. "Ow!"

"Don't touch it." He chides.

You roll your eyes and turn your head to face him and jut a thumb over your shoulder, "How long do I have to wait until we get to fixing that piece of shit over there."

Poe blinks, glances at the droid then back to you. "I dunno, half an hour?"

"Half—Poe! Are you serious?" You hiss. "We're going to be here all night!"

The pilot has the audacity to shrug. You want to throttle him. "It's not like we have anywhere to be."

You open your mouth to protest, but once again he's right. You scowl and glare at the frayed laces of your boot. This is officially, the worst day you've ever had.

A prolonged silence, a bit awkward and filled with your obvious irritation, blankets the room. Poe has enough sense not to prod at your buttons and settles down to your right. Your head is starting to feel much better at least.

It continues like this. Neither of you speak for the better part of ten minutes and then, quietly, almost to too quiet, he says;

"You're not a joke, y'know."

Your brows furrow together and you pause. You look up and he's got that warm, familiar look again and it only brings a dull ache that eats away inside your chest. Part of you wants to agree, but that dark and nasty other part that lurks deep in your chest lashes it's claws out at the thought. He doesn't know you—doesn't know the pain you've been through. You don't want his pity.

You look away. "I...I don't think you know who I am, Poe."

Your teeth bite the inside of your cheek as you pick at the skin along your fingernails. You can feel his eyes crawl over your face and you do everything in your power not to catch his eye because tears are starting to prick at your eyes. Maker, why are you crying? This situation, in its entirety, is beyond stupid.

He says your name, your full name and the air in your lungs seizes. "I know you. You were a Lieutenant in the First Order before you came to us. I remember the day you arrived too."

You spare him a glance and he smiles.

"I remember 'cause that janky Xi-class you were piloting was blasted to hell and you somehow managed to park it without killing anyone. And then—this is my favorite part—you walk out, still in your uniform and you go 'I do hope I don't have to pay for parking'. And then you collapse face first onto the ground." Poe's chuckling as a blush flushes up to your ears. You recall. Vividly.

You snort and rub at your chin. "It wasn't all that amazing."

"Sparky, you stole a First Order ship and flew to a Rebel base. That's pretty ballsy."

You shrug.

"I also remember that time you tricked out Jess's rig with those mods. Me and Snap were jealous for weeks. And that time you spilled caf all over Leia's datapac. Remember that?" Poe says. His hand inches closer your knee. "And when you gave her that replacement one, all those ads about male enhancement pills and 'hot Twi'leks near YOU' kept popping up?"

"Arhg!" You cry, burying your face into your hands. You're pretty sure at this point you could fry an egg on your face from how hot your skin feels. "That was so fucking embarrassing. I-I can't—why would—ahg!"

"Kid, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen."

"That still makes me the butt of every joke! And I still can't even fix a droid properly!" You wail. "Or how about that time I dropped a crate of explosives? I might as well throw myself in a trash compactor."

Before you can even fucking blink, Poe's hands snatch up yours and hold them so firmly you have no choice but to look at him. "Sparky, listen to me."

You quite like the color of his eyes you come to find. A honeyed caramel, so rich that it'd take years to explore the countless layers. There's no malice, no hidden motives you can detect. Just pure, unrefined kindness and hope and—Stars, he's gorgeous.

His thumbs run across the slopes of your knuckles and it's electrifying. "You are one of the only people keeping the Resistance together."

"Bu-"

"Shut up. I'm not done."

You mouth zips shut

"You focus so much on the bad that you don't realize how much you contribute," he says with a gentle smile. "You maybe aren't the best with droids, but people? Sparky, so many of us look to you for hope. I know it's cheesy, but you really do brighten a room with your smile."

A tear trails down the curve of your cheek and he's quick to cradle your jaw and swipe it away with the pad of his thumb. "I don't know what we would—what I would do without you."

"Poe," his name comes out shaky and soft and you know he can feel your blush under his palm, "I—I...thank you."

His eyes flicker down to your parted mouth and then he brushes his thumb across the seam of your bottom lip. He leans in close enough that you can feel his lips just graze yours, warm breath fanning over your chin, and your eyes flutter shut.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers against your lips. Fuck, he is so infuriatingly perfect, isn't he?

"Yes." Maker, yes, yes, yes. That shouldn't even be a question.

The first kiss is fleeting. An innocent peck that flings open the gaping maw of your desire. Your hand shoots up, tangles in the thick curls atop his head and you drag him closer. He groans into your mouth, grabs at your neck and tilts your head, deepening the kiss. His tongue, hot and wet sweeps over your bottom lip and you readily open your mouth and let your tongue glide over his.

He's playful; breaking away to catch your bottom lip between his teeth, then releasing to hook the tip of his tongue into your top lip then swoop in for a lingering kiss. It's impossible to keep up—he dances to his own tune while you stumble along. There's no lack of enthusiasm on your part however and he isn't bothered in the slightest by the occasional bump of your nose or when the hard enamel of your teeth click together. Your whole juxtaposition changes, and you suddenly want to thank that dumb droid. You'd break a thousand of them if it meant you could continue forever on like this.

Poe eventually leans away, the hand tangled in your hair firm so that you're still only a hairsbreadth apart, carefully lowering himself down until you hover above him. His warm hand that leaves a burning trail down your waist, hooks around your thigh and helps tug your leg over his hips. You pull back to suck in air that's suddenly so difficult to inhale and Stars—he's a sight to see. Those lovely black curls are wild and untamed, his plush lips swollen and pouty because you won't give him another taste of your mouth. His chest heaves and your breath stutters as he plants his hands on the swell of your hips, thumb pressing lightly against the outcrop of bone there.

"Maker, you're gorgeous..." You murmur. You lean down and nestle your head in the crook of his neck, lips seeking out the soft skin above his collar. You trail your lips across the curve of his throat and as your teeth catch his earlobe then lick at the small divot behind his ear, a soft groan leaves his mouth.

"Are-aren't I the one—fuck," his hips twitch as you mouth beneath his stubbled jaw, "s'posed to say that?"

You grin and pull him into an opened mouth kiss. His tongue pulls yours into the wet heat of his mouth and sucks lightly. With a whine, your hips stutter forward as fiery heat trickles into your belly. You can feel the growing bulge in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh and shit—you need him.

Your hips rock forward on their own volition and Poe is quickly there to support as his hands grip you tighter and drag you down harder. He props his knees up and with a sharp moan and digs his clothed cock into the apex of your thighs. The fabric of your pants catches on your clit and it's good. Dry fucking Poe Dameron is a wish come fucking true, but it's not enough.

Poe's smirking as his fingers toy with the buckle of his belt. "You wanna take a ride, Sparky?"

You punch him in the arm.

"Ow!" he pouts. "What was that for?"

"Don't say that shit to me ever again."

His warm chuckle echoes through the room and sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "What if I ask if you wanna ride my cock reeeal nice and slow? Feel how hot and tight your cunt is when you sink down onto me. You wan't me to say that?"

Paired with his voice, his strong hands grab your ass and roll his hips up into you and you're done for. You melt into his chest, whining out your affirmations and you don't care how he's already got you wrapped so tightly around his fucking finger.

"Take these off." He purrs, skimming his fingertips over the waistband of your trousers.

Somehow you manage to escape your boots and shuck your pants off through the haze of your arousal. When you return, he's got his pants halfway over his knees, pristine white shirt haphazardly torn open revealing the beautiful expanse of tan skin peppered with dark hair. You straddle his thighs, eyeing the tent in his boxers that leaves little to the imagination and the heat in the pit of your stomach swells.

Poe shoots you a coy grin and sweeps a hand down. He grips his cock, still hidden beneath the confines of his boxers, and gives it a teasing stroke. "You want me?"

"Poe," You whine. Stars, he's making this difficult.

He's smug as he slowly, to the point of teasing, tugs down his boxers with his other hand and eases out his cock. It's gorgeous like the rest of him, deliciously thick and curving towards his navel. Precum shines at the head that's flushed a deep maroon, darker than the rest of his sunkissed skin. You're mesmerized with the way he strokes himself; lazy and gentle, focusing on the head then dipping down to squeeze at the base.

His cock bounces as he lets go and snatches your hand that's lying limp over his hip. He guides it over the searing flesh and it feels like velvet covering reinforced durasteel. He swears as your thumb rubs over the head of his cock, wiping away the bead of liquid that pools there. You circle your fingers around his length and stroke down to cup his balls and he juts his hips into your hand.

Fuck. You want to suck him off. Feel him shake and twitch under your tongue and cum down your throat. Yet, as his fingers trail up your inner thigh and pass through the slick folds of your cunt, you are vividly reminded where else you want him.

"Shit," he breaths, circling your clit with the tip of his forefinger. "You're dripping."

Poe probes further, curling his fingers into your cunt, juuust pushing into your entrance until his fingers are shiny and slick with your arousal. He pulls back and you groan at the loss.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth and moans. Fuck, why is that so hot? It shouldn't be. "Can I eat you out, Sparky?"

He's digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass, tempting you closer and Maker it sounds good, but—"Later. Fuck me instead."

Poe's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Are you sure?"

His fingers return to your the soaking flesh between your legs and thumb at your swollen clit. You shudder, quickly catching his wrist. "Please."

"Fine," he grumbles. "Later."

Finally, you think as you hold his cock loosely and grind your slick folds against it. He makes a punched out sound when you raise your hips and move the blunt tip to your entrance. You slowly let him sink in, a long stuttered groan falling past his lips at the feel of your hot, tight walls stretching around his cock. Your own breath catches in your chest and you dig your nails into chest, leaving behind tiny crescent shaped dents.

—oh—shit—holy fucking shit.

His cock is catching every ridge and curve until the back of your thighs are seated on his. His eyes are squeezed shut and little gasps, as if he were in pain, are tumbling out every time you twitch around him. He's thick—deliciously so, and when you raise your hips and slide back down, his cock drags against your walls and presses in deep. You grind your hips down, catching your clit on his pubic bone and wildfire spreads throughout your whole frame.

"Ah, fuck," he moans. He gives your hips a squeeze and pulls you against him harder, guiding you into a slow, steady pace. "You fe-feel good. Knew-knew you would."

At this point you're hardly doing any work despite being on top; he has his knees propped up behind you and thrusts up into you then drags you back down by your hips. You're loosing your fucking mind like this. One of his hands drifts down and reaches for your clit, his middle finger stroking against the slick bundle of nerves and the fire in your belly quickly spreads down all the way to your toes. You're shaking, panting sharply, and Poe continues to toy with your clit paired with the even rolling of his hips.

"You gonna cum on my cock, Sparky?" Poe huffs out, grabbing a handful of your asscheek. "Yeah, just...just like that. Cum for me."

Your back arches and everything seizes up tighter than a fucking clamp, and with another pass along your aching clit, you burst hot and wet around his cock. With a hoarse cry, your core clenches and spasms through each one of his thrusts, stretching out your pleasure.

In one smooth, fluid move, Poe sits up and pushes you forward until your back hits the ground and he's towering over you. His hand is buried in your hair, cradling the sensitive area but you're still riding your high to notice the pain. With his free hand he hooks the back of your knee and folds it over his shoulder. Stars, you didn't even know your leg went up this far and when he roughly thrusts into you, the air in your lungs is sucked out and replaced with a strangled wheeze.

"You like that?"

You claw at his bicep as he kneels up and pounds down into you, hitting that heavenly spot within you. Your eyes roll back and Poe curls over you to nuzzle into your damp skin, teeth digging into the exposed skin above the collar of your shirt you never bothered taking off. His thrusts are slowly reaching the pace you need him to go and you bury your fingers in his hair and pull. His moan vibrates over your skin.

"Harder." You order. "P-Poe. I-I n-need—"

Poe digs his teeth in between the junction of your shoulder, slips his cock nearly all the way out of your cunt, then slams it back in deep. It's fast and brutal, and you can hear your flesh slap together, hear the obscene squelching noice your cunt makes from how wet you are. Your face burns in embarrassment, but he's hitting something so devastatingly wonderful that you don't really give a shit.

He's grunting in your ear, whispering praise—how wet you are and how perfect you whine and beg for him. He's plowing into you and you're close. So close to the edge again.

"Fuck," he growls, "m'gonna cum. Where—where do—"

"Anywhere," you gasp, arching into him. "In-in me. Cum inside."

Poe's hips stutter. The fist in your hair tightens and he rocks his hips into three—maybe four times before the muscles in your back stiffen and everything blurs and goes out of focus. White hot pleasure rips you apart, floods each cell with razor sharp heat as your body convulses in ecstasy.

He's hissing out swears between his clenched teeth, as his hips jolt and grinds himself balls deep inside you. Poe captures your lips and feel him pulse and throb, chest heaving, as his load, thick and hot, spurts into you and coats your walls.

Poe keeps you pinned there as his hips shallowly rock into you, savoring the last dregs of his orgasm as you catch your breath. He stills and you two lay there, filling the room with your gentle pants. Your knee slips off his shoulder and he moves to plant a lazy kiss on the corner of your mouth and pulls out. His cum trickles out after and drips down your slit but you're too spent to care right now.

He lifts his head that's resting on your sternum. "How's your head, Sparky?"

"Wha—oh." Truth is you hardly feel it now. The bacta truly does work wonders. "S'fine. Never better."

He shoots you a dashing smile, the gap in his teeth and his boyish air makes your head spin. "Wanna take me out for another spin, then?"

"Poe!"

And the droid never did get fixed...Oh well...

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #star wars #the rise of skywalker #fanfic #itsspacecowboys #this is disgusTANG beware #probably doesn't make sense cuz I'm sick af but eh #smut

1K notes · View notes

widowsofchaos · 4 years ago

Note

98,101,66 please. 👉👈

❝Kindred Spirits

98. “Can you just…hold me? Just for tonight.”

101. “(Name), please…you’re scaring me.”

66. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black!reader

soulmate au // requested from this prompt list

A/N: angst and smut, what else is new? After this one, there would be a mix bag of light and dark fics of the 200 ways to say masterlist will be filled with dark fics, for dark fics is why I created this blog in the first place. I’m just trying to get my lighter ones out first. Requested from this prompt.

Oof anon, you one angsty bitch, aren’t you?

Do Not Repost My Works!

It’s okay, I’m here for you.

That’s how it started. Sweet whispers, warm on his clammy skin -- a balm rash. On his flesh forearm, words of adoration carving, itching, and burning -- kismet.

A moment’s breath of happiness reared its head a 180, unveiling a twisted putrid beast; foaming at the fangs shouting “You don’t deserve her.”

Legend has been told for generations that if you reject your destined soulmate, physical illness overwhelms the body. An heart-wrenching pain injects itself into the soul — as if death itself manifests within you.

Those sadden eyes when Bucky shifted away from you that night made him want to bite down on his fist, and scream till his throat went raw. You slightly flinched when he curled in himself, snagging his flesh arm away from you.

It was another restless night for Bucky, waking up screaming bloody murder from an intense nightmare -- images of Hydra murdering you sent him into a spiraling panic attack.

Shouts of your name laced in despair echoed throughout the floor, fists clenching the bed sheets. Knuckles ghosted white, nearly ripping the fabric at the stitched seams. Hot tears stream down his red cheeks like waterfalls. Like a guardian angel, you flew to his aid.

Trembling hands seek a tender soul -- a better soul. Aching bones, and aching heart grasping for your touch, despite the gnawing guilt of how undeserving he felt of your presence.

To breathe the same air as you, there’s nothing tender in his jagged edges, or in his filthy hands. Bitter clouds brew and storm above him -- not fit to feel your pure flesh.

The light in your eyes, the feathery pads of your fingers soothing him -- it reminds him of his mother. Lately, he’s been missing her even more these days; the more deeper he wallows within him, serene memories of himself being dumb and fourteen.

The sly slip of ale on the tip of his tongue, fumbling apologies, she just shushed him, and tucked him into bed. Told him he was a good boy, and that he could never do anything bad. Taught him how to be tough, and yet connected with his sensitivity -- how to be a man.

He clung onto his mother’s sweet words, wise advice -- even a century later.

“Did I do something wrong?” Those words burned in his brain, how your chin wobbles a bit. Shifting on his side, his back facing you, he mumbled, “No. Just leave.” Bucky bit back a sob, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His face contorting in a pitiful display.

A hiss escaped through his teeth, “Bucky, what’s wrong?” You whimpered. That tug -- all too familiar in your heart to scoop him up, and tend to his wounds. On instinct, you hugged him, your chest squeezed onto the muscular planes of his slick back.

Shivers crawled through the crevices of his spine at the feel of your skin.

Bucky wiggled in your grasp, the heat of your engraved words began throbbing as Bucky refused to accept the tie between you two.

Bucky slithered out of your hands as if it pained him to be near you. Tears brimmed at your eyes -- never once -- has he ever refused a hug from you.

The closest of the Avengers; Bucky was timid in your presence. You didn’t force yourself in his bubble, a comfortable distance. Friendly approach of kind greetings, inviting him to movie nights of just you two or suggesting reading material to him.

Helping Bucky adjust to modern culture through advanced technology. Spoiling him with your cooking -- no longer does tube-fed mush, or boiled food lingers on his palate.

It was easy to trust you, it was -- second nature to ingrain yourselves in each other’s bubbles.

Eventually -- Bucky sought out your company, and kind words. Old language of affection -- fluttering lashes, and tiny grazes of her knuckles. Soft hugs at night, his ear laid against your beating heart to tame his late-night terrors.

Now a year later, finally the acknowledgement of deeper layers of love that were sunk in each other now surfaces from the soul to the skin -- a permanent tattoo.

“Bucky, what’s wrong with your arm?” You asked, terrified that he might be in unbearable pain, your strong hands grab his forearm. Tumbling to see what’s eating at him, Bucky jolted with a pained yelp, eyes shut; tears now soaking his face, clutching his arm.

A burning rash simmers on your chest, like a hot blade. A hidden promise prickling above your heart.

A quick graze of your fingers against his skin, sore skin incised. The carving sent electric zaps, the tug in your chest pulling harder and harder; breathless.

You gasped, “Bucky, let me see.” Your words hushed, uncertain.

Hopeful, if it’s finally time. The universe has connected you two together. It’s meant to be.

“No.” Stern, and hardened. “Now leave.” Watery eyes cloud his vision, the taste of anger lingers on his tongue -- rage at himself. His chest cavity felt as if it shattered, “Don’t do this.” You pleaded, it felt as if God himself stabbed your soul.

“Don’t push me away. Not after this.” Your voice trailed into silence, and a sniffle; wiping your wet nose with the back of your hand. “Please, show me your arm.” You begged again.

Fresh tears trail down your cheeks, Bucky remained silent -- the only cadence was his heavy breathing, curling into a fetal position at near the edge of the bed. “Bucky, please don’t do this. Don’t you know what this means? Don’t deny your -- our fate.”

A beat of silence, Bucky refusing to meet your eyes. Your weak fists pounded on Bucky’s back. A few seconds past, even at the brink of offense, and rejection bubbling, you just couldn't bear to physically hurt him. You love that steel-eyed bastard too much.

“Is this what you want?! To end this?!” You shrill, hiding your face against his bicep, softly weeping on his arm, but with every contact -- the words itched even more. Eventually, you stopped, slumping on his body, full bodily sobbing; Bucky kept his metal hand on his arm.

Dying, and yearning to cradle you as droplets flood his eyes, nose scrunching. Losing you will surely kill him.

His words, void of any emotion, “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Gingerly, his teeth sinking into his lip, gripping onto the metal tray in both his hands. On the tray, was a bowl of tomato soup, crackers, and a bottle of water. It’s been three days since Bucky sent you away, rejecting you -- despite the universe’s revelation.

Standing at your door, sighing as he peers at Bucky’s door -- shut closed away. Steve dropped off a platter of food, but he doubts Bucky even acknowledged it. Three days, fearing that it would tip into a week of radio silence, and festering ill in your own respective rooms.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you please open Y/n’s door?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

The lock clicked, a faint groan can be heard. A humorless laugh exhaled through his nose, maneuvering the tray on his hand, the other twisting the handle. Steve entered the room, the stuffy atmosphere almost made him cough.

The blinds and windows were shut -- pitch black darkness shrouding, causing Steve to nearly squint. The lightning emitting from the hallway, revealing the thrashed living space.

Furniture throttled across the room, the sofa up-turned, the glass table nearly shattered; no doubt, your fist colliding against the coffee table, visible blood splatter are still drying on the cracks. Steve shakes his head, sighing.

Strolling quietly towards your bedroom, Steve’s chest tightens at the sight of you crumbling into a ball, surrounded by wrinkled sheets.

“Please, Steve … I’m tired.” You mumbled, too exhausted, too sick to open your eyes -- too lethargic to send a glare in Steve’s direction.

“This needs to end.” Steve murmured under his breath, hesitant to ask the question that it is just edging at the tip of his tongue, but how else is he going to address the rabid elephant in the room?

“Have you talked to Bucky?” Steve whispered, his words dying into silence. Brows pinched sorrowfully, hurt that not only is he witnessing the deterioration of a close friendship -- the only person Bucky fully heatedly trusts besides Steve -- along with the distress in not only you, but Bucky as well.

“No -- he doesn’t want me. So why should I?” You weakly snarled, but it was a pitiful attempt to mask your heart-ache, and yearning for him.

Barely glancing at Steve, as you sat solemnly on the edge of your bed; staring out at the window. Limbs aching deeply, muscles tensing as you clung onto the blanket. Slowly, your body is going to give out.

“This can’t keep going on. You’re getting sick and so is he.” Steve walked to the dresser, placing the tray down.

“And who’s fault is that?” You choked back a sob,

“I’ve been sick my whole life. Sick and fucking tired. All my years, everyone rejected me. My parents, being bullied as a kid -- and now the very soul that the universe connected me with doesn’t even fucking want me! My existence is a fucking joke.” Your arms failing, sloppily crawling under your bed sheets to hide away once again, and pray to finally die.

“You’re not a joke. We all were born for a reason, and destined for the right one.” Steve sat beside your sniffling form, balled into an infant position. His palm cups your shoulder, rubbing it through the stitched cloth.

Pity swells in his cavity. “Oh Stevie --”, you sighed. What a romantic he was, still the old soul of the hopeful bird-boned boy under the shield of a praised golden god; ever so the gentleman clinging onto fantasies of true love.

“--Bless your heart. With your sweet soul, I hope you find the one meant for you.” You croaked, a bit hesitant at first, mixture of regret -- Steve stills hold onto the mourning of Peggy.

Muffled in the back of his mind, insistent that she was the one; but never got the chance to find out if his skin would be graced with her serene words.

Steve silently clung onto your hand through the blanket, squeezing a bit tightly. Grounding himself so he won’t slip into the painful nostalgic haze once again.

“You both need to address this. I’m worried about yours and Bucky’s health. I’m scared.” Steve whimpered, shell-shocked to hear him crumble -- you peer over the blanket.

Steve’s face is pinched, pruning into a pitiful kicked puppy, his chin leaning against his chest -- eyes shut, failing to prevent tears from falling.

Caving in you crawl out of the sheets, hugging onto his muscular back -- a picture worthy of a laugh, how much you resemble a koala bear clinging onto a teddy bear.

“Please -- just talk. Please.” Steve’s stuttering over water-logged words, sniffling as his eyes leveled with yours; never once have you thought ever in your life-time that you would see the mighty Captain America shrivel into a shaking boy.

Petrified that Steve can lose two great friends -- due to years deep of insecurities, and lack of communication.

“Okay --” Defeated, you sink your chin on his shoulder, “--I’ll talk to him.”

Your knuckles grazed his cheek, “Don’t cry, Stevie.” Wiping his fallen tears gently, Steve twisted his body to engulf you in his arms.

Steve’s rubs your back soothingly, “Now, please eat.” You huffed a chuckle, you mumbled a low sweet okay.

- Guts churning, as if the devil himself was playing jump-rope with your intestines. Nausea bile rising at the back of your esophagus.

Why will I say to him? What if he turns me away again?

The possibility of once more rejection will kill you. Trapping your lip between the cages of your teeth, the hesitant fist hovering over the door finally rains down.

Unanswered knocks engulfed in silence rings in your ears. It’s well past midnight, the entire compound is fast asleep, but you know Bucky -- like the back of your hand. Insomnia is a tricky bastard that haunts Bucky, you sighed.

Thankfully, Steve permitted you access in FRIDAY’s system to unlock his door despite Bucky’s request to remain locked in.

Timid steps waltz inside, the air thick, and stuffy -- like your room, barren, and shut out from the outside world. Hovering fingers mindlessly fiddle in the air, trying to grasp any solid surface; cautious from bumping, and falling.

Gliding open-palms against the wall pavements, walking in the correct direction in darkness due to muscle memory; your chest heaving slightly from unbridled anxiety.

Shaky fingers clutch the knob, twisting it carefully -- although, you have a hunch, Bucky is aware of your presence.

“I thought I told you to stay away.” A hoarse, harsh disembodied voice looms from the beyond the door, simmering rage now rises in fiery flames at the pit of your stomach. You push the hinges of the door wide open, your eyes swirl from soft brown to carmine fury.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, chestnut tresses cling against his cheeks -- tear soaked strands sticky against his stubble cheeks.

Hunched over, eyes stuck on the carpeting -- as if the blue rug was so damn fucking interesting. He doesn’t have the nerve to look you in the eyes -- how could he?

“Look at me.” You demanded, tone hardened; despite your congestive throat. “I said fucking look at me.” You stomped your foot on the floor, emphasizing your hurt.

Watery blues peek through brown strands, wincing at your nose flaring, fists coiled, “Stay away?!” You shouted.

Bucky grimaced, shutting his eyes, his face pruning -- resembling a pitiful baby. “Stay away? Like I don’t mean anything to you! Like I’m trash?!” Your voice cracked, tears pooling in your eyes.

“I’m not like everybody else -- it’s you and me. I -- I don’t understand -- these past days, I’ve been having these dreams -- whenever I do get some sleep!” Your eyes zero on him, daggers into his soul; your arms flailing.

Your heart is beating wildly against your chest, tight fists weakly beating onto your cavity. Twirling like an unhinged rag-doll, Bucky crying slightly, his body shaking a bit, from small tremors of sobs.

“Y/n, please … you’re scaring me.” Bucky scared you’re going to hurt yourself, itching to cease your hands hitting yourself. Fingers clinging onto the sewed fabric, “Dreams of you --” breathless, eyes hazy. Bucky gasped a bit, dreams of him?

You quietened down, glaring at him, “I’ve never got to show you.”

You quickly unbutton your blouse, frustrated fingers fumbling over the stitched buttons, “Y/n, what are you doing?” A pained whimper laced with curiosity, Bucky’s hands reached out to halt you. “No!” You shouted -- a watery bite -- he flinched.

Gripping the flap of your shirt, you tugged it down -- a soft gasp left Bucky, harshly swallowing back a sob. Imprinted above your heart is his own words, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, doll.” Cerulean lettering gleaming against scarred sepia.

You scoffed, then a sniffle, “Funny, when it’s you who ended up hurting me, instead.” Irkingly you released your snag, hugging your torso with your arms, a weak attempt to distance yourself -- succumb into your shell.

‘I won’t let anyone hurt you, doll.’ Those words weigh so heavily, creamy bronze snicked on brown skin back three months past.

It was a mission gone hay-wire, five Hydra agents bombarding you -- Bucky heard your screams in his comms; screams that would haunt him forever.

As a speeding bullet, Bucky ran like a mad-man for you -- slaughtering agents, snarling as his knife punctured clean through the necks; gliding his blades slicing down the spines. No mercy. If you ever get hurt, it would be the end of him.

Drenched in blood, ichor coating his strands -- sticking against his maw, and neck. Sitting on the floor, crazed eyes, black cat-suit shines with splotches of red, curls now limp with plasma, plump brown cheeks now covered in a blood mask.

Big doe eyes beam underneath coated heavy droplets -- Bucky sweet strawberry kiss upon your hairline, his lips printing against the red sheen-- his blood-splattered angel.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, doll.” Forehead pinned against forehead, Bucky’s palm gripping the nape of your neck. Passive eyes with a small smile masking a burning hot-white sensation right above your heart plate.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, tiny droplets of tears falling down his bearded cheeks. “You deserve the world.” His chin fell to his chest, little sobs huffing.

“You need someone who isn’t broken.” Bucky cried, sniveling — staring at his trembling hands in his lap.

“Not someone who’s going to wake up screaming in the middle of the night from fucking night terrors!” His hands harshly gripping his sweatpants.

“Who’s clingy, and needy cause doll –” Bucky lifted his wet gaze to you, “I miss you when you leave to the next room. I need you all the time.” He croaked. You cautiously stepped to him, cupping his puffy face.

Bucky instinctively leaned into your touch, tranquility washing over him. A calm sigh slipped from him, “Bucky, I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

Bucky’s eyes opened, “I’ve needed you before I was born.” You bent forward, the tip of your nose flick against his, he solemnly chuckled.

His timid smile fell just a tad bit, “For so many years, I thought the universe was playing a cruel joke on me. For decades I saw you in my dreams – I thought maybe it was a hallucination.” Bucky’s released the bundled fabric, his hands finding its home on your body. Bucky pulled you to his lap, grasping onto your thighs like a life-line.

“I thought you were a figment of my imagination—it gave me peace knowing that you didn’t leave me even when I was getting my brains fried.” You choked back a sob, kissing his forehead. A lingering kiss; you lips were so soft— soft soft soft— like a feather grazing him.

“You see, I was always there with you.” You mumbled against his hairline, nimble kisses in your wake.

Littering kisses on his tear-soaked face: on his fluttering eye-lids, between his brows, the creases on the edge of his eyes, and his chin.

Bucky reciprocated, emotional sloppy kisses. Limbs entangled like a pretzel. On your temples, a trail of pecks on the slope of your nose, your eye-lids, and your chin too. A little nibble like a sappy puppy.

“For decades, I’ve dreamt of you. Didn’t know if you were real or not — soulmates are destined, right? Everything happens for a reason.” You tearfully nodded at his words.

“If I have to go through years of brain-washing to be with you again, I would do it in a heartbeat.” You cried, furiously smashing your lips on his, cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“I love you in a place, where there is no space or time.” At that moment, you felt like your heart would stop at Bucky’s words, glassy eyes meet each other.

Foreheads connect, Bucky’s hands slowly graze your smooth skin, glossy oceanic hues never waver from yours, his calloused fingers slither underneath your shirt, rubbing circles at the nape of your back.

Keening leisure desperate touches, your fingers intertwining, and soft tugs of his tresses. Lips hairs-away from each other, a bit hesitant at first, hitched breaths fanning; a quick flick of your upper lip against his.

“Can you just ...hold me? Just for tonight.” Bucky asked, his voice on the cusp of shy, still paranoia hovers in his mind that you may be gone tomorrow.

“I want to hold you every night.” You mewl, a feather-light kiss. Open palms travel the muscular planes of blood, bone, and metal -- nails lightly scrape his skin. Bucky’s lips smashes against yours.

Decades ago -- what feels like a distant lifetime ago -- dim mere of his own past, Bucky would’ve cupped your face in the warm curve of his hands; once soft, now calloused with bitter memories.

He would press his lips to yours, tenderly. Like a poem, simple but yet passionate.

Taste of smeared lipstick, sticky like honey, and faint mint -- now, it’s fumbling. Sloppy, desperate. But it’s all the same; he’s no longer the fresh baby-face of his past. Eyes sparkle with wonder, he’s older -- wise beyond his years.

Years of hurtful baggage weighs on his heart, but -- you. You remind him how to feel alive again, he feels like the care-free pubescent misfit he once was running around Brooklyn, saving Stevie from another fight, and chasing skirts, being a heartbreaker.

But the only skirt he wants to chase is yours only; and keep your heart in his safe grasp.

His heart unfettered, you came to him bare -- as if you peeled your skin inch by inch, no secrets barricading your love.

Soaking in your essence, unfiltered groans against molding mouths -- coveting pink lips slip from your swollen lips to your jaw to your weak-spot; you squeal as Bucky suckles on your pulse-point.

Marking what is his -- the gift that the universe personally bestowed for him, and him only. From an outside party, you’re younger than him, but not in flesh and not in soul.

A vision that followed him everywhere in his mind, even in the darkest years, you were the light.

Kindred spirits before birth.

Bucky grunts, his palm tenderly clutches the nape of your neck -- steadying your shakiness, eyes blissfully closed as he devoured you.

“I love you. God -- I love you.” Mumbling against your flushed skin, his warm tongue licks against his love-bites, parted lips fanning tantalizing pants.

Your eyelids fluttered, pupils rolling in the back of your skull, “I love you too.” A declaration, the truth. Spidery brown fingers rubbing against his scalp, he gasps, it’s a cooling sensation soothing his senses.

“Make love to me.” You coo, you relish the way Bucky squirms underneath you.

Desperate, inpatient -- Bucky grabs your waist, lifts you off his lap momentarily. Seated with Bucky nestled between your legs, thick tone thighs ripple a bit underneath your soft plush.

Choppy pants exuding from both of you, Bucky tugs the hem of your shirt upward -- braless, breasts heave free, ready to be explored with his mouth.

His teeth caging your nipple, nibbling, and pulling -- you hiss, ensnaring Bucky’s head in your arms. Cradling his dome against your chest, as he suckled upon your breasts.

Muffled groans, and moans -- grinding your clothed pussy against his bulging crotch. Leisure thrusts, dry-humping -- your lavender panties turning into a wet silky grape.

“I need to feel you.” You mumble lowly, a whining lover. Bucky’s hands glide down the slope of your spine, sweetly rubbing the nape of your back to then cupping your soft globes.

Squeezing, molding into his palms, you lean into his neck, and lick a long stride. He mewls, his fingers sneak beneath the hem of your panties, calloused against smooth flesh.

Sneaky fingers travel between your cheeks, as if it’s muscle memory, toying with your gaping asshole to your clenching cunt. A raw groan vibrates in your throat, “Bucky --” He shushes you, lips trailing your jaw. “You’re so fucking wet.” Back and forth glides in your velvet folds, to your supple cheeks.

“Nhhh -- uh--” Stunned stuttering, your entire body vibrating in shivers as the cooling metal infiltrates your blazing heat. “Hmm … needs a little bit more.” Bucky removed his fingers ever so slowly, a quick spat on his fingers; diving right back in.

His thumb plunging and curving inside your glistening ass, and his two fingers pistoning in your moist pussy.

“I need you dripping … so I can slide nice and deep.” Like a feline, you mewl and your back arches in his grasp, manhandling you by the clutch of your holes.

Untying his sweatpants strings, in a frenzy as your ass jiggles in his unrelenting metal appendage. With his flesh hand, with ease and precision, Bucky snaps your underwear off.

Your thighs shake as if an earthquake was erupting within your body. Harsh tugs at his pants -- God, you can tap-dance if you could -- he goes commando. Slapping against his abs, his cock swollen -- gleeful fingers wrap around his cock like a vice. Tight, and ruthless.

“Fuck doll --” Bucky’s voice is cracked, he growls lowly, “Don’t stop. Never fucking stop.” Swiveling fist from the base to the tip, twirling around his tip -- Bucky’s swallows thickly, “You fucking minx.”

It’s all too much yet liberating. Cheekily you twirl the tip of his cock against your throbbing clit, you shudder against his lips, “You’re mine.” You spoke in a hush, maneuvering his dick upward, skidding against your humming labia.

Bucky releases your holes, “Enough! I need you.” Bruising grip on your waist, lifting you upward, hovering over his dick, and swift fall of grace -- you scream, so thick, so full.

“Shit, you’re so big. So damn big.” Eyes shut close, “Wait Bucky --” A frail hand lays flat on his abdomen, “Wait nothing!” A guttural noise leaves his throat, like a beast. And fucks you like one.

Your head leaning backwards, curls bouncing and yourself jolting up and down in his hold as he snaps his hips against. A menace.

Time ceases to exist, gravity crushing, bones aching yet it’s a pleasure burn -- no longer pains of despair, but delicious pain as Bucky thrusts in you.

He’s selfish -- and with every right, his heart thumping against his cavity, he thinks it would stop. Can you hear it? How it beats like a hummingbird for you?

Fast, and snarling, “No -- no -- no.” Latching on your jaw with his thick fingers, “Look at us.” Aiding your head downward, you groaned at the sight of his cock hurtling like a mad man. How perfectly you clench him -- a perfect fit.

“So perfect, like a warm wet hug.” A hoist of his hips off the bed, a curve of his dick, you shriek, “Ah -- there it is. The sweet spot.” Your fingernails create craters in his bicep, and scrape against metal.

Squelching skin on skin pounds in your ears, abrupt jerk down on him, balls deep -- it was brutal. Swirling his hips, along with you following his teasing motions, muffled sticky cadence of your juices coating him.

Slow fall, asterning with your hands on his knees. Skull hanging, raspy small fucks, and yes Bucky leave your lips.

With the support of his hand on your back, short but hard thrusts, and his flesh hand slapping your tits. Bent forward, Bucky sucks on your breast, his hair tickling your bare breasts -- the one with his imprintment. Gawking at it as he sucks, it brings tears to his eyes.

“I’m --- uggnh -- I’m gonna cum.” A broken whisper, Bucky pulls back to him, nearly his bare back colliding to the bed, “Do it, doll. Soak me. Cum with me.” Possessively, you wanna coat his flushed pink skin with your cum, have your scent on him -- like an omega for her Alpha.

It’s divine will. A burst of an eruption of the milky way in his eyes. Unwavering brown meets cosmic blue. Space dust clouding your visions, satellites whirling -- Bucky and yourself nourishing your needs’; crawling in each other's fibers, and sinews, make-shifting into a womb.

As one.

The horizon of the galaxy is painted in glittering pinks, neon green, and blues. Stars shine like uncut diamonds, the hand of God commemorates the two soulmates.

Time and space disoriented, shouts of the other’s name bounce against the walls, but speaking each other’s names is like a prayer, salvation. Hot waves of fluid paint your wet walls, spurts of your essence sprays his flexing abs, and groin. Droplets falling from his happy trail.

It's blinding -- cumming so hard has Bucky and yourself levitating at the toes, then begin collapsing and twisting in each other’s limbs, clinging onto each other, shattered breaths, chests heaving. Loss for words.

Bucky came hard, yet gentle and sweet deep inside of you, his words dying in a slurring breathy whisper. It’s so much -- suffocating, but both of you don’t mind drowning. To lose only a sense of the world; just feel each other. In body, and soul.

The smell of him -- hot musk, flushed warm skin, sweaty skin on skin. Love-bites litter his neck like on yours. Bucky’s ego flares, you smell of him. Branded by every sense of the word.

Lust still lingering in the air, on yours and his flesh. Sepia melanin coated in a sheen, candied with saliva and sweat. He smells like a natural aroma of lavender. How Bucky internally gushes at how your baby hairs cling on your forehead, your kind hands sway the chestnut ringlets that curtain your favorite burning blues.

Shy lips dance a bashful tango. Barely touching, but sensual. Tempering with aching pining, ever-lasting yearning that can be only satiated with touch. Always, always, always, always starving, and everlasting.

“I want more.” A crooked grin forms at Bucky’s face, so insatiable he mutters under his breath. His smirk falters a bit, “All of me?” Depth to a simple question with a complicated meaning. A double-edged sword wielding in the distance, but you know both ends are worth it.

So you’ll take it straight to the heart -- the journey will be sweet -- dear God, yes sweet sweet agony. “All of you. For all eternity. Even in the after-life.”

A kiss soft, and slow. Not sure to rush in, can feel his heart. Bucky grips your curls to look you in the eye, a quick glare, his eyes glistening, Are you sure?

You smirk, grabbing the nape of his neck, smashing your lips, forehead to forehead. Nose to nose, face closer, searching for any shadow of doubt but he only saw a twinkle of pouring affection.

A short chuckle, Bucky leans in for a kiss but you tease him with only a second of it, pulling your face away. A huff of a laugh at his darkening eyes. Grumbling, by the power of his metal fingers, forces you on his lips.

The echo of the smooch is wet, and enticing. Flinging you on the bed , trapping you under his weight -- a giggle, and a low timbre of a raspy snicker.

“I want those legs high on my shoulders, doll.”

Smack.

“Hmph --” Biting down on your lip, reveling in his dominance. “-- And you call me insatiable.” You jabbed, a shit-eating grin.

Crack.

And another brisk one, heat blooming on your cheeks.

A high-pitched moan is Bucky’s only answer.

- Pungent fragrance of coitus thickens the air. It’s delicious. Hours of non-stop love making. The sunset is sneaking from the distance, a soft tangerine hue illuminating the room.

Bucky’s fingers rubbing circles on your shoulders, lulling you to a blissful freshly fucked state.

Hazy eye-lids, you want him -- he’s still in disbelief, how can someone like you -- a goddess incarnate -- love someone like him. Is the universe really forgiving him for his sins?

Your small frame engulfed in his massive frame, legs entangled, his arms hugging you tightly. His fingers finding refuge in your hair, his water-logged eyes trail to your chest.

It’s okay, I’m here for you.

A beautiful reminder of your dying commitment. The pads of his fingers trace his marking above your breast, ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you, doll.’

Savoring your small sleepy pout that edges into a smile. A smile curls at the corner of his mouth, leaning forward to peck the letters -- and he’ll always be there for you too.

Forever and always.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader smut

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spnfanficpond · 4 years ago

Text

June 2020 Angel Fish Awards

(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JUNE’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nonimated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

I Thought You Were Going To Die (oneshot) by @fun-and-fandoms

My nominations for the month wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of angst. Though this one isn’t just that. If you’re easily triggered by mentions of depression and its symptoms, this one’s not for you. But it’s an important topic and I will always encourage any creator who uses their art to remind people it’s okay to talk about it. (Note from Kale, this was actually submitted in May but I missed it.)

More to Me (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

No spoilers, but I’m so glad this ended the way it did. So sweet <3

Help (oneshot) by @blushingjared

I came across this fic and was immediately intrigued. Then I started reading and I was captivated from the first sentence until the very last. The author did such a good job with setting the scene and painting the right picture.

Talking Bodies (oneshot) by @ne-gans

This AU-Sam is such a huge weakness of mine. That, in combination with this dangerously filthy masterpiece, is nothing short of perfection.

Nominated by @focusonspn

Into The Woods (series) by @amanda-teaches

So well written, interesting plot and great development. The chemistry between Y/N and Dean is also amazing, and I loved how this mini-series could be so easily part of the show. Totally worth reading.

Nominated by @thoughtslikeamindfield

Stranger Than FanFiction (series) by @cherry3point14

The premise is similar to the film Stranger Than Fiction – a story about a story being written about you – and it’s just as hilarious. Also, Cherry Pie is still one of the funniest writers in this corner of SPN fandom.

“You’re not supposed to move your head if there’s someone trying to murder you, probably…”

No, I wouldn’t think so, but lollllll

“You’re being insane, out loud.”

Omgggg

“It tried, oh, how the door tried to divert her attention from the unknown men who could be terrible, rule-breaking influences on her. However the door was only wood and she was a stubborn woman made of free will and limbs—a woman who refused to be deceived.”

“Your hand is on the doorknob before the mention of your limbs has finished rattling around your head. Realistically you don’t want to encourage the voice by doing what it says. After all, the voice’s ultimate goal seems to be killing you.”

BAHAHAHAH omfg you guys

I need to stop quoting from this bc I probably seem insane to those of you who haven’t read this, so stop being judgy buttheads and go read!

Nominated by @flamencodiva

The Choice (series) by @superfanficnatural

A couple of things. 1) this is an amazing fic that highlights Dean unwillingness to let himself go until it’s almost too late. and 2) the smut in this is hot hot hot hot! not for anyone under 18 years of age.

Mert has a way with words and can literally pluck you into one and make you see it as it comes to life in your head.

Mine (series) by @holylulusworld

Lulu has an abundance of different stories she tells and this one is my favorite of her ABO’s at the moment. (although I love all of them) I think this one deserved a mention. I am glad she joined to Pond so I could help nominate and spread her amazing work!

One Night at a Time (series) by @crashdevlin

Another great fic by Cassie! This one shot full of Angst, Smut, and if you squint just the right amount of Dean fluff. She has a way of capturing your attention and putting you in the world as you read.

What He Lost (oneshot) by @jensengirl83

This short story by Brandy is sure to rip your heart out. she leaves just a bit of hope where you think there is a chance only to crush it completely with the ending. This one is sure to bring you to tears if you are looking for the most delicious angsty story to read.

Nominated by @risingpheonix761

Down The Rabbit Hole (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

So, this was hysterical. XD I love crack fics, and bad smut in particular, and this one hits the spot. (I’ve also learned several new horrible euphemisms lol). The ending, though? Golden!

Nominated by @myinconnelly1

The Affair (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I love how well all the characters are portrayed I truly hate everyone except the reader! Well done!!

Red Riding Hood - or how you ran into a wolf... (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I have nothing to say about this. I will simply allow the puddle I have become to speak for me.

Last Omega On Earth (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This was a great entry in the ABO world. and we need more of this and more like !!!!! Great work!

My Beta (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I am a greedy little bitch with this fic. I think I've read it 3-4 since i first read it this month!!!!!! READ THIS FIC!

Third Period (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Some truly inspiring smut. Inspiring to change my panties.

Gods of Twilight (series) by @thecleverdame

I think i posted this fic in my rec before, but it is so amazing and intricate that i can't stop gushing about it. Fucking awesome.

Apple Pie (oneshot) by @bad268

The amazingness of this is great, check this guppy out!

Deal (oneshot) by @bad268

Comedy at some of its's finest!!!

Confession (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

THE FLUFFFFFFF!!!! I don't read straight fluff. So get the tissues ready.

Fallen (series) by idreamofplaid

My therapist has told me i'm not longer allowed to talk about this fic during our sessions. So instead i shall now talk about it here... *pulls out soapbox* ahem... *gets pulled away with hook*

Memory (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

This fic is older, but i love it so much. I recently went back and reread it, and the angst and reconciliation in this fic are heartwrenching.

Home (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

My dentist bill the month was higher than normal, due to the new cavities caused by this fic.

Imperfectly Yours (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Cuteness overload as you get Dean's perspective of Home ^^

Second Hand News (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Alright listen. I am a glutton for punishment. And this fic, I asked for. Also i had it set within one of the universes we now own. That all being said, reading this was like a dose of my own medicine and it fucking hurt.

Honesty And Lies (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

This was super dirty, and great. Totally recommend.

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

The Classifieds (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89

This is rip your heart out and stomp on it angst right here. So well written, but so, so heartbreaking.

So Much More Than Perfect (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill

This fic is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read. It made me tear up a bit, but who doesn’t love Dean being the most protective, most adorable dad ever?!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Dear Dean (series) by @smol-and-grumpy

It’s one of those series that makes you wants more after every chapter. It’s a brilliant story.

Left Behind (series) by @kittenofdoomage

It’s the only John Fic I can read over and over and over again. Its hot, the plot is awesome! And it makes me wants more each and every time I read it.

Not Much Left (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

I think Beka tries to kill her readers every time she writes smut… or she just tap into our mind what we want or what we fantasize about. Every single time I’m speechless by her talents!

Yes Professor (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It’s a Misha fic, there’s no one who write Misha the way Beka does!!!

Owe You One (series) by @supernatural-jackles

It’s such a great series! The friends with Benefit and Mechanic!Dean… I just love this so much and I don’t have words to describe how good this one is!!

Flirty In French (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This is brilliant, and I know its an old one, but from someone who finally decided to read more and from someone who is from Quebec, this is absolutely brilliant! The flirty french pick up line are so hilarious!

Nominated by @moosekateer13

Watching for Comets (series) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully captures the song that it was inspired by.

It also showcases things that when things are meant to be.

I’ll will all fall into place.

Please Trust Me (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully emotionally captures what it’s like to have trust issues.

Nominated by @fictionalabyss

Last Call (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It was everything we needed and wanted.

Culinary Exploits (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Too utterly ridiculous not to get a mention.

His Omega (oneshot) by @iflostreturntosteverogers

A sweet little comfort fic of Dean being utterly perfect caring for his Omega. Carrie also pulled off keeping this gender neutral, which isn’t something I see a lot of, and probably something I’d struggle with, so hats off to you, babe.

Poison (oneshot) by @supernatural-jackles

YES omg i feel this on such a level. I’ve gone through that shit myself. A friend who lets you down so profoundly but then acts as if you’re the most toxic person in the world. Nothing feels as good as letting go of that shit and moving on to better things. This was beautiful, and perfect, and TRUTH.

Amara (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

This one hurt. It really hurt, but it hurt so good that I’m left wanting more.

Take Me Now (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

If Dawn doesn’t continue this, I’ll riot.

Stuck On You (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I rarely read a fic this long (I just don’t usually have the time) but it looked too interesting for me to scroll past, and it had me completely captivated. I needed to know what would happen as if I needed air, even though I could guess how it ended, I needed to read the words. Phenomenal.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#afa masterlist #afa awards #angel fish awards #spn fic rec #spn fanfic #afas #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #fic rec #supernatural fic rec

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

Text

Icecube

@sasageyowrites birthday gift number 2 babyyyyyyy here you gooooo sorry it's a tad late I love youuuuu

A long little something with Shoto, Bakugo and your oc

The dull cloudy sky roared in chocked muffles. The cotton textured clouds collided rapidly as the wind blew stronger leaving no room for the dainty cobalt sky to bleed through. Kath looked up, her lagoon orbs flickering as they remained fixated on a particular tiny cloud, watching as it deformed and reshaped in numerous shapes. Puffing cold air towards the long bangs over her forehead, she blew the strand away from her face.

Miscellaneous little snowflakes fell on her nose and eyebrows, decorating her slightly tan skin in her most favorite manner. She chuckled to herself and pushed further back into the wall she was leaning on, her left foot roaming over her right one with a silent jab. She grunted to herself as she double tapped on the screen of her phone after checking the time.

4.42 pm

Shoto was unusually late. That much was all that she could comment on the situation, because frankly it was true, Shoto was known on being sharp and on time so this definitely seemed like an exception. As far as she knew he had run up with his father so there wasn't a point in bitching about it.

Hugging her chest, she grabbed the bang from before, fidgeting the lock between her fingers before eventually twirling it on her pointer finger. She could practically feel the clock ticking by each passing minute, the tight Lycra if her leggings freezing further with every passing second.

Not that she minded anyways, working out in the cold was supposed to help her deal with the aftermath of overusing her quirk. Shoto had always been kind enough to join her more than occasionally, always eager to consult her as to how to use her much similar to his frosting ability.

But this wasn't what was making her impatient today. What bothered her was rather irrational and idiotic, totally idiotic, she kept reminding her self but since Shoto was her childhood friend she felt like she could entrust him with the bothersome knot that sat on her chest and tightened with each passing day.

Shaking her head off her thoughts, her ears were filled with the faint shuffling sound of footsteps, ones she had grown used to over the years. Pushing her lip in a line she half smiled at Shoto, her eyes momentarily hazing over the strand on her finger, before deciding to put behind her ear.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Shoto spoke nonchalantly, extending his fist towards her direction.

Kath puffed her cheeks up, pushing her lips further together, reaching her fist out to Shoto, her frozen knuckles meeting with his slightly warmer ones.

"Are you still in the mood for a run?" She asked, her voice stripped of any of the malice Shoto had expected to come out of her.

Nonetheless he slightly nodded his head, pushing his own lips together and between his teeth.

"Great," Kath cheered through a tiny stoic mumble "let me tie my hair."

Shoto run a hand through his hair, then slid it down his neck, scratching an itchy blotch of skin just between his right collarbone and the nape of his neck. Kath signed at him with her chin once she raised her head, her finngers working on wrapping the white elastic in loop around her makeshift ponytail.

Shoto sighed, his chest rising and falling as his heart heaped inside his chest. Most of Kath’s ponytail fell onto her exposed collarbones, slipping between the hood of her zip up sweater. It made him gulp hard and uncomfortably, the little droplet of saliva torturing its strainous way down his esophagus.

Sure it was normal that he felt like that. He was sooner or later bound to find someone to develop a crush on,a nd who was a better candidate that Kath, one of the few people he had known since elementary school, right? Well, it wasn’t like he was going to act upon it anytime soon, or with no confirmation that she liked him back, being her friend was more than enough.

Yet, the blooming passion of teenage love was planting sweet baby pink cherry blossoms inside him, acting as an indepented source of maroon heat inside himwhener he laid eyes on her. And for all that mattered, he didn’t know what exactly had made him feel the way he was feeling now, maybe it was the sight of her nose painted in that mellow contradictory crimson mimic of a blush, or the way her hair would shine a lighter shade of blonde under such cold environment.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Kath whispered, her words transforming into small frozen fogs, vanishing before she opened her mouth to let out a few addiotional words “I need your help, Shoto.”

Shot shook his head, his hair straying left and right. “Shoot it, what do you want to ask?”

“Ah, here i go i guess” Kath sighed, her azure eyes fixating on Shoto’s mismatching ones as her form eventually jumped up and down from the workout. “I like bakugo so please please give me some advice.” She breathed out in one take, lips pressed together in a dumbfounded and embarrased manner.

“What?” Shoto almost chocked, his eyes growing wide at her sight

“Do I need to repeat my self? I like Katchuki so i need adv-”

“No, I mean why, what?” black straight brows furrowed as he spoke, his mind intoxicated by what he had just heard.

“Why? Why do I like Katsuki? That’s what you’re asking?”

Tasting the bitterness in his mouth, Shoto felt his throat run dry. Beside him, Kath run almost anthusiastically, her head turned to him as her hands stayed underneath her chest, supporting her bust from bouncing up and down while she kept on jogging. She purced herr lips in a small downwards triangle, adorably batting her dark blonde lashed to Shoto’s direction

“No, uhm, why me? isn't your sister a psychic? Have her read his mind, save yourself from the trouble.”

Shaking his hands back and forth, Shoto picked up his own pace, balancing his weight from foot to foot. His chest hitched, cursed to take small intakes of air to fill his lungs he felt his knees going week.

The small things of snowflakes grazed over his right side, dissolving upon contact, creating a momentum of discomfort as they blotched down in sheer freezing puddles.

"I asked her and apparently that's illegal. Also if I were to ask her again, she wouldn't hesitate to find an excuse to come here and flirt with mister Aizawa. You know..." Kath paused, her eyes squinting in such internal dispute that her eyebrows wavered their way to the tops of her eye sockets. "She's been making heart eyes at him for a while now."

"That's disgusting." Shoto commented nonchalantly.

"There's worse. Apparently he's subtly flirting back. Ugh why can't she just like your bother so we can adopt you all legally for fuck's sake."

Coughing up a little grazy knot that had formed down the pits of his throat in his effort to master up some words to speak. He backed away, taking a few steps behind her as he slowed down his pace to the point his bangs weren't leaping on his forehead anymore.

Family.

That's how she viewed him. Shoto didn't know why, but it jabbed a few holes in his heart every time the word played inside his head, bouncing around the cavities of his brain like a tiny little mantra. He hadn't suspected he'd actually live through this teeny silent heartbreak; despite having heard that no one could ever escape the mighty friendzone -or at least that was among Ochaco's lines- he hadn't believed, not even for a second, that it'd come to be so cold and raw like this.

Damn, he didnt even have the chance to get openly rejected.

"I'm not the best person for love advice, why don't you try Uraraka? Or Yaoyorozu?"

"Well you're my childhood friend." Kath said, slowing down her pace until she came to jog right next to Shoto once again. "And you spend time with Bakugo for your temporary license."

Shoto looked at you nonchalantly, face blank of any expression once again. Numerous thoughts bounced around his brain, numbing his already frost irritated face until he couldn't even feel his nose scrunching up. Closing his eyes in defeat he slowed down his movements, his hands moving automatically as his body came to an halt.

He only needed a moment to catch his breath, ripping himself of kneeling or bowing to rest his hands on his knees he stood almost proud, his back excessively straight as if he could always feel his father's fist bumping into him ordering him to fix his posture. He turned to face her, dual colored eyes searching for azure ones, the inside of his lower lip slightly being worried between his front teeth in anxiety.

Her blonde hair pooled over her shoulders as she nuzzled her nose onto the collar of her shirt, trying to get some friction onto the tip. She could feel a little droplet stuffing her nose, slipping down the side of her nostril.

"You know, when you get a frostbite from your quirk?" Shoto jumped straight to the point.

Subconsciously his fingers lingered over there, numb cold skin meeting its match upon impact, Shoto's frozen digit thrived between the openings betweet Kath's.With the tiniest double pat thrown to her direction Kath placed her fingers into Shoto's palms, receiving a little squeeze to the base of her thumbs by the dual hair colored male. The tipsof his fingers rubbed three soothing circles over her knuckles, his left hand emitting the most comforting heat.

The chocked sound of confirmation that came out of her made Shoto blink his eyes into hers, his lips pressing together and sinking bewteen his his teeth. He stared at her, noticing eacha nd every snowflake that fell onto her, decorating her golden locks under the cold gray afternoon light.

"Try to ask him to warm your hands up for you.”

“He’s going to blow my face off.” she snarls, her eck curving towards the ground, azure eyes burning holes onto the cobblestone material “You’re going to pay for my surgery if he does. Just a heads up.”

Shoto blinks his eyes, his gaze hooked by the the lock in which he held her hands in. If only he could warm up his insides the way he manges to warm her ands up, he wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. Perhaps, he could try speaking up, he would just blurt out a fact and excuse himself in his dorm room, maybe sulk in there for a day or two until he had to go to his temporary license training. Sure Kath wouldn’t mind, despite being pulled away from him in her own will, he wasn’t that much of a fool for wanting to express how this rotting feeling in the depths of his stomach felt.

“He won’t do anything like that”

“Yeah, he’ll scream about me getting on his nerves, right?”

“No, he won’t.”

“I’m not telling him how i feel though, he’ll soo me off and i’ll be sulking like no tomorrow.”

Shoto didn’t answer, rather he tightened the grip on her hands, his quirk glowing like a warm candlelight lit in the back of his brain. His chest twithed, his heart beating extremelly fast at the action, but he managed to minimise the affect of his own feelings before the action of providing warm comfort to the blonde. He didn’t dare press on her or wrap a hand around her, he simpley stood there as both their pairs of hands mingled together, enjoying the violent nibbles of the weather on his skin, trying to find a way to pause his mind.

He didn’t need to drown himself in the self distracting thoughts he had just inflicted over his brain.

It was merely the not so nobble pain of one’s first heartbreak. It was supposed to be a story that he could look back to and feel a pulling in his heartstrings for the rest of his life.

“I can’t believe this!”

Water that came to a boil roared in hungry sounds even after the red boiler clicked to signal it had fulfilled its assigned task. Steam brushed over the wooden cupboards forming into tiny droplets that found their way down onto the marble counter.

Kath slapped a hand over her forehead as she wiped the counter with a rag with the other, the tiny little droplets seeping into the microfibers of the cloth as if they were being magnetized. A long sigh escaped her lips from the depths of her chest, the back of her nose growling in protest as he throat begged to be freed by the looping pain of an angry snarl.

Red eyes watched her meticulously, examining each and every single one of her movements, continuously moving back and forth whenever she took any step. Bakugo wasn't one to apologise; everyone that knew him knew that he was set on always doing things he was sure he wouldn't regret, not only because of his gigantic pride but also to save himself from the second hand embarrassment of having to admit his judgement wasn't right.

"I wouldn't have done this if you hadn't gotten on my nerves dammit!"

His protest is pathetic, he knows that much, but as golden hair sways before his eyes, as knee length sock clad legs move lazily over the counter he can't help but chock the hitch inside his throat and every his eyes away in annoyance.

Had he known how to act around someone he liked this could have been much easier for him.

So in half honesty, it was his fault that he melted down the cooker hood.

"Remind me again how I'm getting on your nerves Bakugo!" Kath supressed a screech, closing her eyes as she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

It was unavoidable. The way she felt like her heart was going to burst, the way her lips had turned dry, or how she felt her whole body freezing up in her attempt to cool down her nerves. But that was the reality of trying to speak rationally with Katsuki Bakugo. At least for her.

Her knees pressed together, the little squirming of her thighs covered by her skirt, though she could feel how cold her legs had gotten as her thighs collided.

"By existing." Bakugo grunted.

"I literally just asked you how you're doing with your temporary license."

The growl that came from her throat masked the look she wanted to put in her eyes. With the boiler in her hand she reached for a bowl from the lower cupboards, pouring the coiling water inside once she set it on the table. Bakugo's fist colliding with the mahogany made the water vibrate in tiny little circles, sending miniature waves from the center of the bowl to the outer strobe edges.

The clock read 6.17 am.

Bakugo hadn't meant to cause that accident, if he were to admit on certain things, but he needed to be excused for the fact that he had just woken up and maybe for the fact that it was early, oh, and also for the fact that his emotions angered him.

Kirishima had warned him about this, he had told him that he should be a little softer around the edges when approaching someone that he likes romantically, but Bakugo wasn't typically used to experiencing crushes or feelings of being smitten.

Right now, he was angry with himself more than he was with anyone else.

How dare he not know how to act around his crush? The yellow light in the kitchen beamed obnoxiously in his scarlet eyes, his platinum spiky locks falling over his hooded lids annoying him further as his heart heaped inside its skeleton prison.

Apparently, anxiety could make palms sweaty -Bakugo resented Midoriya now more than ever because he was the one who had warned him of his palms getting sweaty- and his sweat created explosions, and somewhere in between his need to impress and to cover up any trace of insecurity while he worked on the words he wanted to say he had accidentally blown up the cooker hood.

Key word. Accidentally.

But it was unlikely that Kath viewed it as an accident. And to top it all he couldn't explain himself without letting out his feelings pop in the surface.

"Help me clean or else mister Aizawa is going to tear us apart." Kath ordered, throwing a rag in his direction.

"Whatever! You damn idiot, you made me do it, tell that to him when he asks."

With sweaty fingers Bakugo clutched the peony cloth in his palm, his calve quaking as numerous veins popped up all over his bicep. The vein on his forehead throbbed dangerously as he brows were smitten together, squishing the small piece of flaky skin between them.

"Take responsibility for your actions!"

Bakugo's eyes squint in annoyance his right eye twitching as his jaws start jiggling, his sets of teeth crushing onto eachother.

"What did you say idiot?" He growled. "It's your fault I blew it up."

Kath's eyes widen, her pupils almost shrinking. "How is it my fault? Take responsibility because my sister will nail me if I cockblock her!"

Kath growled furiously, her chest churning with the sour bubbling of anger as she avoided looking at Bakugo at all costs.

"Yeah? So it's fine to cockblock us?"

With his eyes gleaming in demonic vermillion specs, Bakugo slapped a hand over the counter, the spit inside his mouth producing in gallons that he couldn't help but gulp down in an attempt to savor the bitter taste of anger. But sometimes one's words run faster than their mouth, he realised now how easy it was to slip up when going the extra mile to keep his feelings to himself.

"Us?"

Bakugo clutched his teeth together, his lips stretching as far as they could ever reach, his nose scrunching up, thousands of lines drawing their way into his pale skin. His eyes were impossibly squinted, his Adam's apple prominent as ever despite that his head was lowered. He brought a hand between his platinum locks, tugging at the roots before combing them through the numerous spikes that haloed over his head.

"Are you deaf or an idiot?" He screamed.

Kath looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, an uncalled expression on her face. Confused as ever she bent her torso, head probing right next to Bakugo's her hair falling over the counter. She resented the urge to poke a finger at him, touching him when he was mad had never seemed like a good idea, and to top it all she was as much scared as she was mad.

Deprived of sleep due to pulling an all nighter, her head buzzing in a mixture of equations and countless of paragraphs she had managed to free her self from in a matter of few hours, she felt hazed and confused as to what Bakugo was trying to utter in his newfound way of being mysterious.

But hot guys are sometimes assholes right?

"I said are you an idiot? Or deaf? Idiot!" Bakugo growled again. "I try to impress you and you can't even see that?"

"You try to what?"

"Forget it!" He said, violently tossing the rag on the cream colored tiled right next to his feet before stomping off.

"Get back here you spikehead bastard!"

At least that's something. The sound of her words makes Bakugo turn around, his foot twitching in his spot as his lips hide between his gums and his skin. With a long step he comes closer to his previous spot and watches as Kath walks towards him at full speed.

Sweaty foreheads bump together, teenage hearts compete as to which is going to burst through their owner's chest first, feet dig into the tiles beneath them in despairate need of support as scarlet meets azure.

"Be clear as to what you're referring to you bastard." Kath bites at him, despairately trying to wet her mouth before she runs out of breath. She can feel her chest freezing, her quirk quickly taking advantage of her.

"Imagine being such an idiot that you can't even understand when someone says they like you!"

"How was that telling me you like me?"

"Don't answer me if it's not going to be a reply to what I said!"

"I'll beat your ass if you don't learn how to to be clear with what you want to say!"

"As if," he screamed "I'm going to blow you up and they'll need weeks to stich you back to together!"

"You practiced that line a lot Kacchan?"

Bakugo pressed his forehead on Kath harder, his vein being pushed by her forehead. "You're either going to accept that I like you or I'm going to punch you!"

Kath raised a shaking clenched fist to rest on Bakugo's forearm, his throbbing veins pumping so hard that she could feel them under her touch on him. Growling, she felt her stomach churn and her gut ache as her mind commanded her to spill what was at the tip of her tongue.

"Okay then what if I like you too!?"

Bakugo retreated, pulling his forehead back as he tried to fix his posture, his hands extended towards the blonde expecting to catch her the moment she'd trip from his sudden retreat. But of course, it never came. It made him chuckle, the bubbling sound coated by a sheer tint or his remaining fury. He liked how she pulled herself back, or how she fixed her posture by herself, never needing anyone to act as her safety net.

With his eyes glued into hers he dared to take a step closer, extendeding a hesitant hand to touch the underside of her chin. Kath stayed nonchalant and unresponsive on the outside, the tails of her eyebrows arching dangerously as she stared at him with an angered pout.

"Tch, your lips are fucking purple icicle idiot."

"They wouldn't be if you hadn't enraged me like this."

Still he was hesitant as in making another move towards her, the clock was out of sight meaning he couldn't check the time yet, so he had no idea if the room was about to be flooded with his classmates. Anything that he could initiate he had to do it now. Additionally, her chin was frozen, he recognised hoe she would get when her quirk would get the best of her, the dangerous ultraviolet color that tinted them. Maybe he needed to help her warm up.

Dammit his legs were shaking.

"For fucks sake stop looking at me. Kiss me already!"

"Shut up icecube!"

And thus in the most cliche ways of teenage romance frozen lips met fiery ones as grizzling smoke covered two sets of squint closed eyes.

"Do you think we should separate them?" Midoriya asked, his emerald eyes gleaming with worry as they raced between the scene before him and Shoto.

"It's fine- just- let them be."

As Shoto tried to avert his gaze, his heart roared as it dripped to his stomach in full force. The numb feeling overtook him, but he masked it under his nonchalant expression.

Placing a hand on Midoriya's forearm, he shit him a knowing glare, his brow cocking upwards as he nodded to the opposite direction of the one which they were facing. Midoriya nodded in confirmation to his signal, taking the first leading step to the way back to the dorms. Shoto took a turn, not bothering to look behind despite how much he wanted to.

Your first heartbreak was something you would eventually look back to and feel a little pinch when thinking about how it hurt. But how did one get through it in the first place?

#gift #bnha #oc

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softliebgott · 5 years ago

Photo

LEMONADE LIPS AND MARSHMALLOWS

You and your family have managed a somewhat peaceful farm life during the war until you discover two soldiers, George Luz and Frank Perconte, raiding your barn. Disappointed, but nonetheless grateful for the army’s presence, you invite them to have dinner for a proper meal. We all need some Luz Fluff™, or just some softness in general. This is my first attempt at writing Luz, so go easy (pun? yes) on me 😅

TRANSLATIONS: Oma = grandma, Hurensohn = son of a bitch, rag = 40′s slang for “make fun of”

TAGS + MASTERLIST: If you would like to be tagged in future requests, go here and add your username below! Link to the masterlist is here.

@general-taylor @mgdln97 @gottapenny @endorians @morgan108 @thegermansarebad @floydtab @snafus-peckuh @wexhappyxfew @scarecrowmax @madamsledge @easyroses @ineffablewants @junojelli @inglourious-imagines @sunflowerchuck @adamantiumdragonfly @luz-lovebot @alienoresimagines @fandomscenariosforyou @ray–person @noneofurbusinez @tvserie-s-world @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @keoghans

March 11, 1945

Sturzelberg, Germany

Farm life, the absence of human pollution; sound, smell, and people themselves, until the American army came to settle in the town nearby. You didn’t mind. In fact, you were grateful. Germany’s dictator was losing his hold on the reins he sought to keep steady.

A dirt road, reminiscent of chocolate powder, cut past a field. Out of this empty land your family’s farm rose up with its buildings like a huddle of old, painted vessels floating in still water.

The sun embraced its newfound world with warmth that felt different than when the war was at its worst. Perhaps the earth felt it could finally breathe, knowing its body would no longer suffer great wounds from weaponry. It wouldn’t have to weep as it welcomed more of the dead.

Walking the fields with your father, you bent down to pluck a ripe tomato from its brittle stalk, and then bit into it. Acidic, like an apple. Sweet, like a strawberry. Juicy, like a plum.

“(Y/N),” came your father’s gravelly voice. Knelt down beside a tomato stalk, he looked at you from over his shoulder. His gray eyes, rivaling the polished metal of a suit of armor, reflected the sun’s glare. The map of wrinkles on his face spoke of an incredible journey. His eye lines held echoes of laughter and warm smiles, while his forehead told of worries past and worries present. Sixty years of his story ingrained in him, telling of the man he became; kind, compassionate, and a little tired. Amused, he smiled. “What shall I tell your mother?”

“What both of us already tell her, papa.” You moved to his side, gripped his shoulder, and bent at your knees to whisper, “Rabbits.” You lifted your brow.

He chuckled, crow’s feet lines creasing the edges of his eyes. Your favorite laugh. The kind, when you were a little girl, you loved to feel rock his chest when you hugged him or fell asleep to in his arms.

You straightened up, smiling impishly as you took another bite of your tomato.

“Perhaps before you tempt me to have a few, could you check the hens for eggs and milk Gerdy? Your mother is wanting to make *Oma’s Apple Cake.”

“Yes, papa.”

You left the field, finishing your tomato as you headed for the barn. Pulling the wooden door open, light spilled in and washed over, to your shock, two American soldiers standing on a crate and raiding the eggs. One held a hen, while the other had been using his helmet to pile eggs into. Their attention was snagged by you.

“Guten tag, Fraulein.” The soldier holding the hen smiled. He gazed at you through deep-set, hickory brown eyes. A few strands of hair, similar in color to his eyes, hung loose over his forehead. His features, rugged, yet soft, seemed boyish. To you, it felt like he was one of those little boys who tried to grow up too fast.

You folded your arms against your chest, brow furrowed. “You have no right to be stealing.” You did not expect such behavior as this. It disappointed you.

“Hey, Miss, we’re fighting Hitler,” the other soldier said. “I think we have a right.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. He was half right, but you were in no mood to argue, but to come to an agreement. “You won’t have a proper meal with just eggs. Come on inside and we’ll fix you something.”

The soldiers exchanged looks.

Leading them to your house, the soldier who had first greeted you matched your pace, eager in talking to you, while his friend muttered, “Luz, leave her alone.”

“Hey, what’s your name?” Luz asked.

“(Y/N).”

“I’m George. You sure do speak English well.”

“My mother wanted me to learn for when the British would come, but...”

George grinned, tuning his voice to a deeper tone in a British accent. “Ole Churchill needed an edge of Americanism in his tea.”

You giggled. “We are grateful that you are here.”

He had not made a woman laugh, or heard one such as yours, more attractive to him than woodland birdsong, in years. He wanted to hear it again, to see the way your eyes squinted, and to hear your jumbled words. The laughter and smiles of his friends would never get old, for he strove to give them those little pleasures. Now, he wanted to make you laugh so he could feel that warmth he lit for others.

Inside your family’s quaint home, you introduced the soldiers to your mother, who was washing dishes. “Momma, this is George Luz and Frank Perconte. I caught them stealing our eggs.” You looked as smug as a dog stealing a Christmas goose. “I thought we could make them a proper meal as compromise.”

“Oh, you boys shouldn’t have to steal to get a good meal. Come, sit down.”

Thanking her, George and Frank propped their guns against the wall next to the coat rack. You wondered how many lives those weapons reaped, and it made you think of your brother and cousins who had been drafted. No news had come of their deaths yet, and you often begged to God to spare them through muffled sobs in the night.

Frank offered the helmet-full of eggs to you, the edge of his mouth curling. His eyes reminded you of the chocolate your mother would melt for her cakes. Fine, smooth, and inviting. “Sorry for raidin’ your barn,” he said.

You smiled, taking the olive green helmet. “I’m glad to have caught you.”

As you moved to the counter, the wooden chairs behind you growled against the hard flooring as the men sat themselves. You looked over your shoulder to them. “Would you like some lemonade?”

“Boy, would I.” George beamed.

“Yeah, I’ll take some, too.” Childlike enthusiasm brimmed in Frank’s eyes.

You retrieved the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and then reached for two glasses from the overhead cupboard.

“They are both such handsome men. They remind me of your brother and cousins,” your mother whispered.

“I just hope they can come home.” You poured the lemonade into the glasses, its tartness rubbing uncomfortably at your nasal cavity.

“They will. I have hope.”

“Is hope enough anymore?” You questioned, heartache softening your gaze.

Your mother tilted her head, eyebrows squished together. Truth was, she had been trying to keep positiveness afloat, but you kept punching holes in the raft. She sighed, averting her eyes and continued to prepare the meal.

A traditional roast of heavily marinated meat, bread rolls, and potato dumplings were prepared. Your father had come in for a break, taken aback by the presence of American soldiers, but had immediately shook hands with them. He was just as grateful to have them here as you were.

“Hey.” Frank bumped his elbow against George, irked. “You gonna take all the rolls? That’s your third one.”

“What are you gonna do, Per-Short-Te, punch me over this nice family dinner?”

You quietly laughed to yourself. You and your parents hadn’t had a dinner such as this after your brother and cousins left. Light-hearted, and distracting their minds from wandering into those claustrophobic tunnels of anxiety.

George noticed your quiet laughter. He caught your eyes and his face softened. Unbeknownst to you, you had the right colors to paint him where the war had watered him down to dismal grayness. He didn’t want this dinner to end. He wanted time alone with you.

You sucked in your lower lip. You had been studying him throughout the meal when he wasn’t looking. You noticed how his bottom lip was fuller, and wondered if you could taste the lemonade if you’d kissed him. Fearful that he could decipher your thoughts in your expression, you forced your eyes down to your lap.

“How long will you be staying in Sturzelberg?” Your father asked.

You felt George’s boot touch your foot, and cold, static-y surprise overwhelmed your body. You glanced up to him as he took a swig of his lemonade. He winked, and heat rushed to your cheeks while you gained a heart beat between your thighs.

“Could be a night or two. We don’t usually know for how long wherever we go,” Frank replied.

“Hey, uh, where’s your bathroom?” George asked.

“Oh.” Your mother’s eyebrows perked up. “(Y/N), could you show this young man where the bathroom is please?”

You felt air catch in your throat. “Yes, Momma,” you said quietly, rising from your seat.

Yours and George’s movements irritated the senior chairs, triggering arthritic creaks from their legs. You led George out of the kitchen and into the hall. The cornflower blue, floral walls were adorned with framed pictures and embroideries. The wall sconces, wearing earrings of long, fake crystals, often struggled to keep their territory lit as streetlights did at night.

A bubble of awkward silence swelled between you and George, until he stopped to look at a portrait of a young man in uniform. “This your boyfriend?” He asked.

“No, that’s my brother.”

“Do you and your family, uh...like Hitler?”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “We loathe him, and even more-so after the men in our family were drafted.”

“I have a theory that he wears a hair-piece. He walks outside one morning, and one gust of wind turns him into a chrome-dome with a penciled mustache. Mr. Honcho holds his bald head and whines.” George placed his finger below his nose to imitate a mustache, deepening and strangling his voice to mimic Hitler. “Hurensohn!” He spoke more, but of jumbled nonsense to rag Hitler about his energetic speeches. “He’s stompin’ away, and his SS boys are chasin’ after the hair piece down the street like it’s a loose dog.”

There it was. Your smile, your laughter. His new favorite sight and sound. His chest and stomach became lightweight, as if he had taken flight. Holy shit, I’m done for, he thought.

After you had shown George to the bathroom, you retreated to your room, wanting to do your daily ritual of looking at your favorite photo album. You sat on the edge of your bed, the album open and resting on your lap. The pictures it embraced featured your favorite memories all the way up until your brother and cousins put on their uniforms. You wanted to save the last few pages for when they would return.

You knew their smiles would either go into hiding or be wrung out of them like water from a cloth. Their laughter would be hard to beckon out, and their minds would be battered vases. You and your parents were determined to help mend those cracks with the priceless gold that came from love, such as the Japanese art form, Kintsugi.

Life would be different, but at least they’d be alive.

“This your room?”

You looked over your shoulder at George, his eyes bouncing about the area in childlike curiosity.

You smiled, closing the photo album. “Yes.”

He approached your bedside. “Mind if I?” He gestured to your bed.

You shook your head and set the album on your nightstand. The bed dipped with his weight, and for a moment you felt you would lose your balance and tip backward onto him. He laid down on his back, crossing his legs. “Jesus Christ, it’s like lying on a marshmallow.” He shifted uncomfortably.

You faced him, a smile playing at your lips. “What have you been sleeping on all war?”

“Uh, well, let’s see. Cold, hard grounds with a side of foxholes.” He turned his head to you. “But speaking of marshmallows, you got any?”

You went out to the kitchen to retrieve a bag of sizable marshmallows, earning questionable glances from your parents and Frank. When you returned to your room, you sat with George and indulged in the puffy treats. Your hands became sticky and little bits of white flesh lingered on your skin like how Styrofoam would.

Your mind kept trying to yank you back to thoughts of your family in the army, and it occurred to you that since there was a soldier right next to you, you could ask him about things you often wondered about. “What has the war been like...?” You asked.

“Well,” George’s voice was muffled by his chewing. “It’s different for every guy. Different for every army. There’s good times, and there’s bad. Some guys try to make light of things to ease the bad, right? Well, take that for the time my boys and I were in England for continued training. Our commanding officer and drill instructor was Captain Sobel. He didn’t know what the hell he was doin’, and we were hidin’ behind this big bush and couldn’t break silence. That is, until one of the boys told me to mimic Major Horton to fuck around with Sobel.”

George pulled out two marshmallows, shaping one to appear skinnier. He held it up in one hand, “Here’s Sobel, and here’s me.” In his other hand he held the normal sized marshmallow. He began to imitate Horton and Sobel, squishing the marshmallows to make it appear as if they were talking. He told the story, earning from you grins and giggles. “I got him to cut the barbed wire fence, and he ended up releasin’ a whole herd of cows. He got his ass chewed out by the Major later.”

He wasn’t sure if you were aware of the captivating picture you made when you smiled. He hoped you did. You were more enthralling than a pulsing light show of fireflies in the night, but it gave him the same feeling of being spellbound.

“There’s moments like that, and then the real thing comes out of nowhere.” George grabbed a handful of marshmallows and scattered them to represent the trees in Bastogne. As he told you about the sudden onslaught of German artillery, he ripped the marshmallows apart just as the trees had been. Boom. Rip. Boom. Rip.

He seemed hypnotized, like a vampire obsessively counting rice. He was lost in the memory that haunted his dreams, stained his eyes with the blurred vision of black and white explosions, and echoed in his ears with the screams of Muck and Penkala. Numb, his voice went dull as he relived it before his eyes.

You didn’t laugh or smile, but this is what you asked for. What it was like. You wondered if you shouldn’t have asked. You had disturbed those memories, and now George was lost in their raging sea.

“Two of my buddies were hit directly in their foxhole...and the other lost his leg.” He was there again, innards trembling and his mind blank as he stared at Toye lying in the snow, his leg looking like messily butchered, raw chicken.

“I’m so sorry...I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“Yeah...war is hell.” George didn’t meet your eyes. The liveliness had abandoned him.

Guilt-ridden, you cautiously reached for his hand, which clutched at the torn remains of marshmallows. You unlocked his grip, the pieces falling onto your bed, and tangled your fingers with his. The stickiness from the marshmallows welded your hands together.

He released a breath he had been holding and closed his eyes, the tension draining from his body. He squeezed your hand.

“Hey, Luz, c’mon. We gotta head back.” Frank’s voice sounded from the hallway.

George opened his eyes to you, his thumb stroking your hand.

You followed him out of your bedroom, having given him the bag of marshmallows. You didn’t want him to leave, but you certainly wanted to see him again. Whenever that may be. Thus an idea came to you. You snatched a small photograph of yourself from your mother’s China cabinet and wrote a note, your address, and phone number on the back in spidery handwriting.

“George, wait.” You approached him as he and Frank grabbed their rifles. You handed him your photograph, heart drumming. “A reminder that if you need a safe place to come to, it’s here.”

George smiled at your picture, thinking, better than any pin-up girl. He carefully put it in his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’ll be seein’ ya, gorgeous, whenever this war ends.” He winked, popping a marshmallow into his mouth, and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

You had watched him and Frank leave the property, grinning when George looked back over his shoulder and smiled, his cheeks stuffed with marshmallows like a squirrel.

How you wanted to kiss those stubbled cheeks.

As the sun closed its blaring eye, you sat in bed, writing in your journal. Every sentence you tried to write started with George and ended with your heart wanting to burst open, less like gates during a flood and more like a peach growing on a vine. So ripe. So ripe, so ready for the fall.

A rhythmic tap at your window froze you. Could it be the wind using a tree branch to make its nightly tunes again? No, because you saw a human shadow, a cookie cutter shape in the pool of moonlight. You closed your journal and peeled the sheets and blanket away.

When you approached the window, your heart fluttered in surprise. George. You unlocked the window and slid it up. “George, what are you doing here?”

He awkwardly climbed through, almost stumbling to the floor. After you closed the window, you met his eyes, and you found where the sun had gone; in his smile, the warmth echoing in his voice. “I want to feel safe tonight.”

Heat rushed to your chest, and your body quivered as if on low blood sugar as George stripped down to a cotton white shirt and boxer shorts. He joined you beneath the covers, his dog tags clanking. He snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you snug against him, like two perfect puzzle pieces fitting. He caged you within his arms, and you felt a heartbeat much stronger between your thighs this time. He smelled like an ashtray, but you didn’t care as you nuzzled your face into his chest.

“You know, at first I considered you out of my league,” he said. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen into my arms.”

You laughed into his chest.

#george luz #george luz x reader #band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #band of brothers fanfiction #frank perconte #george luz imagine #band of brothers imagine #bob imagine #rick gomez #hbo war imagine #hbo war fanfiction

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exycuter · 5 years ago

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know any good kevin-centric fics??? im dying here

luckily this bitch scrolled through the entire kevin day ao3 tag so u dont have to! heres my top picks!!

peu à peu is a literary classic in the field of kevin day fics. decades later and we will still discuss the intricacies of this scholarly DELIGHT. the entire duck pond scene replays in my head every night as i sleep because i love it so dearly

i’m here (except when you’re not) the QUINTESSENTIAL canon what happens next fic ft. kandreil. literally assume im dead and my spirit exorcized if im not talking about this. cried a lot and a bitch DOESNT cry !

your mouth the shape of an open wound short. sweet. pairs beautifully with a glass of the finest vintage wine so u can stare out the window and be like damn bitch it really do be like but like. beautifully.

‘til my heart stops (tw: v centred around eating disorders) my first love my baby my honey my sweet angel. can do no wrong amazing stunning beautiful. i text this fic drive home safely and let me know when you get in! x fts. foxes rallying around kevin when he hits a low with a wonderful kevin/thea dynamic

fitting in features perhaps two of my greatest niche interests: kevin day and wasajig puzzles. also features the greatest line ever penned: ‘inside, where he had once felt soup, he felt warm and choked’. very sad and sweet.

dangerous magics (ao3 users only) literally left me DIZZY. neil pov magic au where neil and kevin are adopted brothers and neil is magicless and kevin couldnt be more magical. is absolutely the definition of EPIC and everytime i reread it i still lose my shit over the ending fjdkhgfhjg legends ONLY!

movie in my mind the road trip fic we DESERVE!!!!!! FUCK everyone else i respect this fic. satisfies my innate hunger for shitty motel settings and cramped car rides and feeling too much to say. we simply have to stan

in the end i am undone ok not necessarily kevin centric but chapter 2 is such a wonderful take on the andrew hurting/making amends kevin i GASPED. and its a sexy magic au. refresh this one on the daily waiting for the update please read i am desperate to talk about it!!!!!!!!

running with the wolves again not as kevin day centric as is ensemble cast and yes its a werewolf fic but ITS NOT WEIRD and is in fact, extremely cool and an absolute BLAST to read. this earns its place bc its kevin characterization is the perfect blend of well intentioned but dumb of ass. v fond of this one

give me reasons we should be complete the kandrew drabble of my dreams. andrew pov that captures the essence of his exasperated but terribly concerned attitudes towards one (1) sleepy boy

cats in the cradle the way this is written gives me cavities its such a SWEET wymack and kevin bonding fic i love it so so so much!!!!! id literally take a bullet for op and thats that on that x

sorry i think im forgetting some but memory machine broke. anyway have fun live laugh love x

#kevin day #aftg #all for the game #PLEASE COME YELL AT ME AFTERWARDS IF U READ ANY I HAVE DEEP THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL OF THESE #AND YELL AT THE AUTHORS MOST OF THESE ARE CRIMINALLY UNLOVED!!!!!!!!#also if u wrote any of these hmu if u dont want it linked outside ao3 or if u DO and would like ur tumblr added!!!!!!!#me? refreshing the kevin day character day daily? well a bitch just might!#hyperfixation WHERMST

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rambling-at-midnight · 5 years ago

Text

Inferno: Part 3

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

God I love Peter Parker so much. Anyways, he’s a dork even when he’s Spiderman. This is so fluffy I’m gonna get cavities. I have so many great ideas for next chapter! Also, I lied; there’s gonna be at least 5 parts.

You’re thankful for your fans. You really are. A good majority of them are sweet, caring individuals completely appalled at the blatant lies the American government sent out as a reason for your arrest. It’s nice to see people promoting positivity.

Unfortunately, being rich and having fans can sometimes lead people to hate you for no other reasons. You’re not saying there are rich people that don’t deserve to be loathed. Of course not. And maybe you do deserve to be hated. You’ve certainly done enough questionable stuff.

But at this point scrolling through your notifications feels like playing Russian Roulette with every chamber loaded.

cap2n/merica: Hey @Y/N_Stark, just do us all a favor and turn yourself into the authorities before you start melting people again.

bigbossbitch: @Y/N_Stark is another case of gross celebrity misconduct. Yes, her jail time was wrong, but now that she’s been released she’s just another spoiled celeb kid born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She gets away with murder just like her father does because of their wealth and it’s a sign of the American government’s (1/2)

You don’t feel like finding the second part of that tweet.

givemebackmymeat: @Y/N_Stark is an ice bitch

Stacey-Toland: yeah it’s great and all that New York gets Spiderman and @Y/N_Stark , but if they really cared about people they would branch out and help people in cities with a lot more crime. New York doesn’t need the Avengers, Spiderman, AND Inferno!

just-a-dumbass: y’all Inferno is the dumbest superhero name i’ve heard in a long time @Y/N_Stark

With a sigh, you turn your phone off. The public outcry will quiet down after the official statements are released. Everyone needs some time to cool off.

The pesky bandages on your hip crinkle as you sit up. You rip them off without looking. Tony insisted that you wear them last night after Helen Cho fished the bullet out of your hip. There’s no pain this morning, and you don’t even need to check to know there’s no scar.

The temptation is too great. Maybe you’re a masochist. You grab the phone before sitting down on the toilet, determined to find at least one positive comment about you in your feed. You try Instagram instead of Twitter this time. Since your public appearance last night, comments on your last post about a year ago have been flooding in.

spideyismydaddy: hey @The-Official-Spiderman what do you think about @Y/N_Stark? She invading your territory or what?

You click on @The-Official-Spiderman. It’s got to be a spoof or fan account, right? Sure enough, the account isn’t verified. You almost swipe out of it but your eyes catch on some of the photos he’s got uploaded. Either he’s super good at photoshop, or...

Is this really Spiderman’s account?

The photos look exactly like the crime-fighting spider you’d encountered last night. He doesn’t have a recent story that you can watch, but he does have a highlight story that you click on. In the first one, he does a backflip. The second clip is of him racing a train and winning. The third one is a pretty picture of the sunset.

You rest your hand on your cheek. Before you know it, you’ve watched his entire highlight story and wasted fifteen minutes sitting on the toilet.

“Miss Stark, your father wanted me to inform you that breakfast is ready,” FRIDAY says, making you jump a little bit. At first it had been a struggle to stop talking to her. The amount of times you’d say, “FRIDAY, turn off the lights,” or “FRIDAY, what time is it?” is a little bit embarrassing. No doubt how many times she’ll startle you will be embarrassing too.

“Sure,” you grunt, throwing a MIT sweatshirt on and shoving your phone in its pocket. “Coming.”

“Morning, sweetie,” Tony says cheerfully, attempting a smile when he looks at you. “I made your favorite—waffles.”

“Great.” You try a smile yourself. “I haven’t—that’s—thanks, Dad.” You’d been about to comment that you haven’t had waffles for over a year, but that would probably bring down both your spirits.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” You take a big bite of waffle and look as innocently as you can at your father. “Just peachy.”

Tony gestures to his own hip. “No... pain? Bleeding? Scar?”

You shake your head and shrug. “Healed overnight.”

“Good.” Your dad actually fiddles with his fingers as you take another bite. “I, um... I don’t know what you want to do.”

I want to spend time with you is the first thing that crosses your mind but it sounds way too sappy and weak. You settle on a shrug. The familiar fire under your skin wavers and you scowl to bring it back to a simmer.

The next time they try to take you away, you’ll be prepared. Even if you have to take out thousands of agents. But you can’t let go of your anger for even a second.

“I have an idea,” you say after another awkward silence, struck with a great idea that would involve time with your dad but doesn’t involve actually asking for it outright. “I couldn’t keep up with all the new shows and movies that came out. Maybe we could get Disney+ and, I don’t know, watch The Mandalorian? I saw a lot of Baby Yoda memes online and it looks like a cool show.”

“That’s the new Star Wars show that came out, right?” Tony checks. “With the ugly green baby?”

“Hey! He’s not ugly!”

“Well,” he starts. You already know he’s about to suggest a bad idea. “Star Wars is probably Parker’s expertise. Considering both of us won’t know what’s going on, maybe we should call him and have him here? Just to translate the nerd stuff to the non-nerds?”

The hand holding your waffle clenches. You should have known that Tony would try to involve his precious Peter Parker so he wouldn’t have to spend time alone with you.

The waffle starts to smoke and you drop it with disgust. “I’m going to the training room.”

“Come on, Y/N—” Tony starts but you stomp off. Why won’t you understand that he just wants you to make a friend? He’s not trying to replace you with Peter—he’s trying to get you to replace Tony, at least a little bit, with Peter.

Tony eyes the waffle you hadn’t finished. A clear outline of fingers is burnt onto its surface.

You stalk through the compound angrily, halfway expecting a team member to jump out at you. You were the last one to be released, after all. Then again, they’re all under house arrest or on the run. But what about the ones that had sided with Tony? “Where are they?” You’d love to run drills with Nat or talk with Rhodey.

“Tony cleared his schedule for the next week,” FRIDAY informs you. “He wanted this to be a more relaxed homecoming so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed before more enthusiastic well-wishers arrived.”

“He cleared out his schedule for everyone except Peter fuckin’ Parker,” you mutter. Jesus, how important is this kid to Tony? First he never stops talking about him to you, takes him to pick you up from jail, and now he’s banned everyone but him from the compound?

For lack of sparring partners, you decide that lifting weights and running on the treadmill wouldn’t be too bad. Thankfully your muscles didn’t atrophy too much while you were locked up, though you rarely mustered the energy for exercises. You left the heat simmering under your skin at all hours. Judging by how many times you woke up to singed blankets, you started doing it in your sleep too.

No doubt due to the Extremis, you can lift every weight in the weight room—together. It’s too easy, so you move to the treadmill.

Your feet pound on the track. With every step, another thought bombards your mind: Peter Parker smiling, how you spent three months in the cage before they consented to giving you a plant, the cell smaller than your whole bed, you never even saw the sun for months, Tony coming to brag about Peter fucking Parker—

Only when your foot hits the ground do you realize that you’re running hot. “Shit,” you mutter, reaching for the ‘off’ button. Your whole body is glowing bright red and instead of turning off, the keypad melts at your touch just like how your shoes had melted off and how the track is hardly more than a melted pile of goo around your red-hot feet. The poor treadmill gurgles unhappily and its gears stop churning.

“Miss Stark, you are not wearing your fireproof clothes,” FRIDAY points out.

“Yeah, I got that, FRI,” you respond through gritted teeth, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You need to calm down before your clothes burst into flame.

The red hue to your skin fades slightly.

You need to get your excess anger out. And you know exactly how to do that.

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

Some guy swings a metal bar into your face. Something definitely cracks but heals within seconds, so quickly you almost don’t register the pain. It doesn’t slow you down, anyway, and you grab the man’s arm before he can whack you again with the bar. You slam his head against the side of a brick building and he slumps to the ground. If he doesn’t wake up in thirty seconds, you’ve either given him brain damage or flat-out killed him. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Before you can turn around, your back burns. Not the comforting burn of your anger, but a stinging burn that takes your breath away.

You turn around slowly. The man’s partner backs away, his hands in the air as a scared expression takes over his face.

You reach behind you. Your hand hits something hard that makes the pain in your back worse. It’s the handle of a knife, you presume. With a wince, you pull it out of your back. The blade is dark with blood that you already feel dripping down your back. The wound will knit together, scab, scar, and fade. A body’s week- or month-long process of healing occurring in seconds.

You’re not thinking when you brandish the weapon, but thankfully a weird thwip sound interrupts you. The man’s raised hands find themselves stuck against a wall by a white, sticky substance.

“Shit!” a vaguely familiar voice hisses after a second thwip. “Oh Jesus! You killed him!”

You turn around. The man you’d knocked against the wall still hasn’t moved, but there’s a dark puddle spreading around his head. Spider-man takes a quick look at him, shakes his head, and looks at you.

“And you got stabbed!” Sounding sort of like a smothering grandmother, he spins you around and lifts up your shirt. “Oh, shit, that’s a lot of blood...”

“The wound’s probably closed by now,” you mutter. The ground sort of leans away from your feet and strong arms wrap around your waist as something swipes at your back.

“I don’t see an opening.” He gingerly takes the knife from your hand places it on the ground. Then you find that the ground is underneath your butt. Spider-man’s mask swims in your vision.

“I killed him?” you ask blearily. Shit. You can’t afford to be murdering people not two days after being released from prison. They’ll send you back. They’ll lock you in that cage! Is Spider-man here with them? You smack his hands away. He’s here to get you, he’s here to take you—

“Whoa, whoa, let’s calm down a little bit,” Spidey says beseechingly. “You don’t have any wounds, but you lost a lot of blood.”

“It’ll replenish soon,” you mutter. After some sugar. Sustenance. That would help. As if he’d heard your thoughts, Spidey waves something in front of you. It takes a hot second for your eyes to focus on it, but when you realize it’s a churro your mouth waters.

“I did not mean for this to go this way,” he mutters. Almost shyly, he thrusts it at you, saying, “Here. I got it for you.”

You’re not one to refuse free food. If he’s poisoned it, chances are the poison won’t affect you much, anyway. You’ll take your chances.

You wolf the churro down in record time. Now that you’re feeling less woozy, knots are starting to form in your stomach. Spider-man, a superhero largely known for helping people out, just witnessed you accidentally murdering someone.

And you just murdered someone. You need to take that knife and burn it in an alley far from here and toss it in the trash.

Heat rises in your cheeks, but it’s not anger-heat that can be used as a weapon or self-defense. Letting Spider-man see you like that is embarrassing.

“Are you feeling better? I can get you another churro, if you’d like, or maybe a burrito, I think I have enough cash for that...” Spider-man reaches into his back pocket, but maybe his tone is too light, maybe he’s not being nice and he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of safety.

Quick as a whip, you take the knife and hold it in Spider-man’s direction. The superhero falls back, his voice cracking as he exclaims, “Hey! Whoa! Please don’t stick me with that! Do you have any idea the potential ramifications of mixing blood? Not that I think you have STDs or something, but still, I could still get alien bacteria in me! The Extremis is still in your system, right? Well, of course it is! I really don’t need that in me because it might make me blow up! Please—”

You blink. He sounds like a kid. Like someone your age. He’s in no way your father’s age. And he’s definitely not a threat. “Relax.” You close your fist around the knife and channel your anger into that extremity. It melts within seconds and drips to the ground. You shake your hand of the last bit of molten metal and allow the flesh to return to regular temperature. “You’re not going to hurt me for killing him?” Your heart still races in his presence, but it’s starting to calm down.

“I saw everything.” Spider-man stands up awkwardly, especially for someone that can do backflips and crawl up walls, and points up to the top of a nearby skyscraper. “They attacked you. It was self-defense. Besides, these two killed a bystander in a shootout recently. I’m not saying they deserved it, because that would be really mean to say, but I’m also not saying that you’re a terrible person. You know?”

“You certainly talk a lot,” you comment. It’s amusing.

“Do you want me to stop talking?” Spider-man rubs his neck. “I know it can be annoying. My friends—”

You shrug. “Why were you watching?”

“Well, last night you got shot, right? And I see you out again fighting crime. So I’m like, ‘Holy crap, is she in pain, she’s probably not all right, maybe she’s getting mugged because she slept on the streets because I didn’t help her when she got shot in the hip and then you slammed that dude against the wall and I saw the other dude stab you and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the point.” You stuff your hands in your pockets. “It was my fault, anyway. If I was wearing my suit the knife wouldn’t have gotten so deep in. It probably wouldn’t have gotten in at all.”

“Why are you just wearing a MIT sweatshirt and sweatpants, by the way?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t be bothered to change.”

“Well, I think you’re going to have to now. There’s a big hole in your sweatshirt and your whole back is bloody.”

“Shit,” you mutter. “But that’ll lead people back to... him.” You shoot a glance at the dead man. “And he’s going to snitch on me.” You shoot a nervous glance at Spider-man. You have no idea how he’ll react to you considering a tied-up would-be mugger.

Spider-man shakes his head. “People will see my webs. They’ll blame me.”

“So we’ll both be blamed,” you say grimly. “Great.”

“Yeah, The Daily Bugle is going to have a field day. But we should get out of here.” Spider-man puts a hand on the small of your back (right where you’d been stabbed) and gently applies just enough pressure to get you moving. Shocked at the gentlemanly gesture, you take a few steps before remembering your bloodstained clothes. “I’ll get you new ones,” Spider-man says grimly when you voice your concern. “But then I won’t be able to get you a burrito.”

The sweet concern is touching. “It’s really okay,” you say. If you had your credit card, or any cash on you, you’d buy the poor boy as many burritos as he wanted. “You gave me your churro. You’ve done more than enough.”

“Well, I wanted to make a good impression!” His voice cracks again.

“Really?” you shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye. “Why?”

“I don’t know a lot of other teenaged superheroes,” he shrugs. “I thought we could be friends.”

See, Dad? You think viciously. I can make friends without your interference. I’ve found a friend loads better than Peter Parker. “Get me a change of clothes and we’ll talk.”

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

“A radioactive spider, huh?”

“Yeah. And I know all about the Extremis. Killian.”

“Yeah. He murdered my mother and then tried to blow me up but my body didn’t reject the serum.”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Your mother’s death is like a bruise; tender when you poke at it but livable with. “What about your parents?”

“Oh, they’re both dead.” Spider-man gives you a half-shrug. “I live with my aunt. My uncle used to live with us until he died.”

“Shit, dude.” You lay down on the skyscraper, hesitant, and fold your hands together over your stomach clad in the I <3 NEW YORK sweatshirt Spider-man bought you. Goosebumps rise on your exposed legs, courtesy of the NEW YORK sleep shorts he’d barely had enough money to buy at that sleazy mart. What would you want someone to say to you?

“Like you said. I’ve dealt.” Spider-man lies down next to you, watching the sun set.

“I guess we kinda have to be friends, right?” You say after a brief pause of silence. “We got all the heavy stuff out of the way.”

“Sweet!” His phone buzzes. He pulls it out and types a quick text to someone. You presume his aunt, considering that’s the only family he has. Or one of his friends.

You can hear the smile in his voice and it makes a smile spread across your face too. For the first time you feel the wind whipping and realize you’re not angry. You call the heat back immediately, both to warm yourself and to protect yourself. What if—?

“Can I do a livestream?” Spider-man props himself up on his elbow and holds up his phone, which displays his Instagram page.

“Sure?”

Spider-man rolls up his suit to just under his nose and starts recording a video. You notice he lowers his voice slightly, probably to make himself seem more mature, and roll your eyes. “Hey guys! You’ll never believe who I’m with right now.”

Immediately comments start to roll in and people start sending emojis, mainly hearts.

You wave at the camera before unlocking your phone and following him on Instagram, now that you know it is actually him. A minute ago you’d gotten the notification he’d followed you, so you figured it was only fair.

Spider-man starts to do a run-down of his day, leaving out the man you’d killed. “Then I gave Inferno here a churro and we went shopping because we’re besties.” He nudges you with his arm. “No, but seriously, we had to burn her clothes. I can’t believe that dude threw her in the dumpster. It was disgusting.”

You wrinkle your nose at the camera, actually enjoying playing along. It does make you wonder exactly how much he says on his social media is a cover-up of some sinister stuff. He seems perfectly fine at lying about why you needed new clothes.

“Okay, now I’ll answer some questions...” Spider-man browses the flood of questions. “Okay, well, you guys know I can’t just tell you my name. No, I haven’t seen Iron Man recently. No, I’m not an Avenger. Still. And no, I do not have a girlfriend... Why is everyone asking if Inferno is—no, she’s not!” His voice cracks again and you glance curiously at him, tucking your wild hair behind your ear. The wind is whipping it everywhere.

“What?”

Spider-man just waves a hand at you. “I can’t tell you guys my schedule, either, because the bad guys will take advantage of it. You guys know that. Sheesh. Okay, well, since you guys are being jealous and immature, I’m going to log off now. Bye!”

“Let me guess,” you say sarcastically. “Mostly female fans, huh?”

“It’ll be such a shock when they all find out I’m gay,” Spider-man jokes. At least, you think he’s kidding. After a beat, he clarifies. “I’m not. By the way.”

You shrug and transfer your gaze back to the skyline. The sky is starting to turn orange and pink. “I wouldn’t really care if you were.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Hey, you know what isn’t fair?”

“What?”

“You obviously know who I am. Everyone does.” Not to sound conceited or anything, Y/N, good going... “But the only thing I know about you is that your parents and uncle are dead and you got your powers from a radioactive spider.”

So what, you’re curious about who’s under the mask. Sue you.

“My middle name is Benjamin,” Spidey suggests. “But I’m not going to tell you the rest of it.”

“So I should refer to you as Benjamin?” You don’t take your eyes off the horizon, not wanting to seem or sound pushy.

“Please don’t.” You giggle as he pretends to gag. “You can call me Spidey. I know Spider-man is a long title. As long as I get to call you Y/N instead of Inferno.”

“Sure thing... Benjamin.”

“I should not have told you that,” Spidey sighs. “Um, what else... I, uh, go to high school.”

You nod. “I should still be in high school.”

“You graduated high school when you were fifteen and went to MIT, same as your dad, for two years, same as your dad, and graduated college summa cum laude...”

“Also same as my dad.” You sigh.

“Sorry. I’m just... kind of a fan.”

A weird warm feeling spreads in your stomach, but it’s not Extremis-heat. “That’s okay.”

“And then you were arrested.” Spidey’s tone turns a little bit dark. “You turned eighteen in the Raft.”

“Happy birthday to me,” you sigh.

“It was shitty what happened to you.”

“I’m out now.”

“Still,” he persists. “It sucks I can’t make it better.”

You laugh. “What would you do? We only became friends maybe fifteen minutes ago.”

Spidey sighs. “I know. It just sucks, right? All these powers and we still can barely make a difference in the world.”

You sit up halfway, propped up by your arm. Desperate to make the subject lighter, you say, “Speaking of powers. I know you’re sticky and all. What else?”

“Fast and strong.” Spidey shrugs. “Not much else.”

“Wanna race?”

Inferno Taglist:

@paullrud @eridanuswave @loveissupernatural @moistpotatobear @oh-annaa

Peter Parker x Reader Taglist:

@iconicbabesss

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight

#peter parker #Peter Benjamin Parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #reader x peter parker #you x peter parker #tony stark #stark!reader

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blxckdamask · 5 years ago

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Trashcan’s Fic Rec: July ‘19

i know this is really late but i was busy so i couldnt really get this done. an yway,,, yall know the drill by now,, this has a bunch of bnha (mostly bkdk) and some rairpairs aswell as some drarry, odaat and b99.

BNHA Fics:

{bakudeku}

When Izuku's insecurities about his scarred body hit him full throttle, Katsuki is there to show Izuku just how beautiful scars can be.

Katsuki's reflection above the sink stared back. Eyes still drowsy with a hint of a shadow beneath them. Hair more of a mess than he would prefer, but he was plenty awake now.

All because of Deku.

Katsuki reflects at 4 am.

Pride has always had a special place in Midoriya Izuku's heart.

"I trusted you and you had me murdered!” Midoriya wailed, anguished. Bakugou twitched focusing on the spell that made him capture Midoriya's soul.

“Shut up! You got yourself killed!”

“I didn't! You said you had my back and I thought you had it! But you didn't! Kacchan! My body!” Midoriya cried as he watched Bakugou lug his limp body through the forest.

This is what happens when Bakugou tries to become best friends with Midoriya again.

Katsuki doesn't know what's wrong with Izuku. Is he mad? What is he mad about? What did Katsuki do!? All he knows is that he can't let Izuku break up with him. Not while they're still keeping their relationship a secret.

Izuku forces Katsuki to apologize for everything he's ever done to hurt him.

Bakugou and Midoriya have been best friends since... well, since either of them could remember. But both harbor unspoken feelings for the other, will this be an end to their friendship?

Izuku, a dog hybrid, has lived with his owner Toshinori, a retired hybrid psychologist, his whole life. He takes on some of the shelter’s most difficult cases as fosters, and so Izuku has learned to be the best foster-mate possible for scared and abused hybrids. At first, Katsuki, a cat hybrid who’s been kept in a tiny apartment nearly his whole life, seems just like any of the other awful cases they’ve seen, but somehow, Izuku and him grow a lot closer than usual over the course of his stay. Eventually, the question becomes: could he stay forever?

“Izuku knows what the Hanahaki does. He knows what his options are, and sure, they aren’t great. In fact, they’re pretty horrible. The list is short and daunting. There are still flower petals on his pillow."

In which Izuku has Hanahaki Disease, and Katsuki's furious.

And you're crushing on him, and he's just so cute, and the baby's cute, and what's a guy to do, anyway?

Ever since they were little, Izuku and Katsuki’s families have had family dinners. It’s just them and their parents, and that’s fine. Until more people get dragged in. (And try to set Izuku and Katsuki up.)

for twinstars week day four - family

{todobaku}

It started from a normal evening to a small argument that made them go on vacation that made Katsuki realize that he wanted something more from Shouto.

Bakugou, Denki, Midoriya, Momo and Todoroki all end up in a McDonald's one early morning. A suggestion of a movie and a credit card reveal later and the teens are off to spend the day together.

They all know that it's Todoroki's father's credit card, but none of them care.

Bakugo and Todoroki both find themselves living together with disabilities, helping each other get by. In doing so, they fall in love.

{rairpairs & other ships}

“You haven’t changed at all, have ya?” he observed, pinching her cheek affectionately.

Ochako batted his hand away from her cheeks for the second time that morning, wondering if he had a thing for them. “That doesn’t even make any sense, Bakugou. I’m from the past. Of course I haven’t changed.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Bakugou countered, closing his teeth around a bite of eggs. “You were doing this same shit yesterday morning.”

My entry for the day 2 prompt of Kacchako week: otherworldly.

Bakugou watches with something akin to affection when Shinsou starts playing with his dog until she jumps all around him and is barking excitedly. He has never seen the both of them so content before. The Sergeant is always so concentrated at College grounds, either that or she’s calm but still looking out for him. Bakugou has seen them during lectures, at lunch at their usual table, during their ways to Bakugou’s dorm and to Shinsou’s apartment off campus, he has seen them through their late-night-skyping sessions and in countless pictures on Sergeant Barkowitz’ Instagram. He has seen their best but not their worst, and that makes Bakugou wonder if he’ll ever be such a great companion to Shinsou like the Sergeant is.

"Shouta could have never imagined reaching this point in his life. He honestly expected to die at some point when he was younger, alone somewhere in an alleyway, killed in action during his hero work maybe."

Instead he's in a warm hospital bed and surrounded by some of the people he cares most about.

Shinsou Hitoshi had never had a family before, and he refuses to screw it up. But when a villain attacks him and his new little sister, he may have lost the only family he's ever had.

Bakugou never wanted to be mated. Especially not to a villain but it didn't look like he had any choice in the matter. The only question now was: will he ever escape?

OR,

The author loves Bakugou and loves to make him suffer so Dabi kidnaps him and forces our favourite blasty boy to become his mate. It goes from bad to good to bad and back to good.

While working together as pro heroes, Iida, Bakugou and Todoroki are taken captive. The situation is strange: none of their Quirks work, and they aren’t tortured or killed – in fact, they never see their captors. There is nothing to do but wait.

Things are tense between the three of them, but Iida finds the situation bringing him closer to Bakugou than he thought possible. But who knows how this will change things between when they get out…

Quirk: Infatuation - The user of this quirk affects two people by touching them at the same time, they then fall into a state of infatuation with each other; they could be affected by this for up to a week.

Iida and Bakugou get affected by an infatuation quirk that makes them be sweet to each other. So sweet, that it could give you cavities. Warning: This story will contain an excessive amount of pet names, hence the title.

Other Fandoms Fics:

Recently married, Harry and Draco are tasked with raising a four-year old Teddy, whose emerging gender identity brings up an array of questions, fears, and revelations for them when they realise that Teddy might be transgender.

When Draco learns he's pregnant again, he blames his husband. Harry, however, couldn't be happier.

Jake dated two guys in college, but doesn't realise until he introduces one of them to Amy.

The family learns a secret about Schneider

alex said the far scarier sentence that at the same time was more comforting than anything the teenager had ever heard before. “she,” alex mumbled under his- no, her- breath, voice beginning to choke up, “was sitting on her bed, in her room. her,” he- she, she- sighed and spoke just a little louder, just a little surer. “her name is alex, and she’s a girl.” alex smiled to herself, so small it was probably barely considered one. she didn’t care; she finally felt whole.

or: in another world, elena isn't the only alvarez daughter (but it takes alex some time to figure that out)

#monthly fic rec #fic rec #bnha #bkdk #tdbk #kacchako #bakushin #bakuiida #bakudabi #erasermic #Harry Potter #drarry #odaat #b99 #peraltiago

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littlemisschameleon · 5 years ago

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Aight so there’s this fic called Where You Lead, I Will Follow by @lovelylogans

and I feel bad for sending what would have been 13 anons to her shouting my praises for the final chapter of this fic

so here we are (continued under the cut)

to start, if you aren’t annalise and haven’t read this fic yet, do yourself a damn favor and read it! it’s a gilmore girls au for the sanders sides, and tbh if you like the sanders sides you’re going to love all of her writing. Im not even joking right now, go read the fic! And then read lavender for luck (another one of my favorites from her), and then go give annalise some love for her amazing abilities, and THEN you can come back and read this.

second, this entire post is gonna jump around a bit. Basically i took notes while reading so I didn’t forget anything, and was going to format said notes into asks. I hope this is easier to read (and so your inbox doesn’t get more flooded, like im sure it is) everything from now on is just going to be copy pasted from my notes, pretty much. The breaks in paragraphs are where they would have been for asks. Enjoy the ride

*cracks knuckles* lets do this song and dance once more, its tiiiiime for lovin wyliwf! Lets just get to it, as there’s so much ground to cover (38k, are you trying to kill me?!?!? i love it). Ohhhh patton buddy youre really out of it, arent you? Asking for straight vodka is gonna be the first of many slips during the play, im sure. Logan just immediately giving full attention to the play in anticipation for Roman is so frickin cute!!!!! Id bet that patton would be awwwing about it too if not for the play beginning.

Logaaaaan! Thats your boyfriend!!! Hes so excited to be able to //say that// now. And Roman did so good he deserved every single ounce of applause he got! For real though, im just READING how his performance went, I can only imagine how breathtaking it would be to see it. The way that youve been handling the tonal shift when it comes to our boys relationships has been so good! Youre able to make it natural when you want to, and completely jarring when its right for the story.

I figured that must have been challenging so good job!! Speaking of jarring, I was too caught up in the euphoria of Romans dance to even remember pat was wearing //makeup// and //crying// until Emily shouted about her handkerchief. //thats what im talking about youre so good omg// That entire fight was a long time coming, and I //felt// it when pat was just so sick and tired of everything.

Im kinda similar to pat, because when the apology happened I thought something was gonna be different too, but of course not! Patton must feel like even more shit :( Okay we all knew that Logan was in love with Roman, but now that theyre together its clear just how far //gone// he is. Like hes //in love// its just so sweet its gonna give me a cavity

The whole “they got together” thing just broke my heart, because thats how it should have been in a perfect world, but hey that wouldn’t make for good conflict in a fic now would it? But of course logan and Roman are so devastated, they didn’t even //think// to see this as a possible outcome, it felt impossible to them for this to even happen :(

can I just say that I LOVE petty patton!!!!!! Yes sir put ur foot down! Good!!!! and the father son bonding time!!!!!! Between both richard and pat AND richard and V in a sense!! Such a good change of pace from the fighting that usually happens when pattons parents are around. And BLESS THE FUCK UP, RICHARD! Hes broken through!!!

Hooooly fuck! That WAS embarrassing! Side note, i will always be in awe about how well you write logan and Roman, theyre both such //teenagers// and react perfectly. Exactly how you would expect teenagers to react in said situations. AND hhhhhh virgil!! So sweet!!! Patton he CARES so MUCH about you!!!! He LOVES YOU PATTTT! Oh man, Logan talking about how he needs to focus on his obligation to school reminds me so much of what Emily wants for patton. Roman’s right of course, whats the point of trying to better your future if its making you upset now?\

Ive got a lot of words for that scene with pattons letter, but mostly I want to say that I can’t wait until they make up bc that scene //hurt to read ow// Oh gosh, Emily dont fuck it up now //please//. Youve got patton crying, you know a lot more than you did before, youre hugging him. PLEASE just be happy for your son? PLEASE HES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH LET HIM BE HAPPY (this goes for both emily and you annalise, stop cackling behind your computer and making my boys sad)

“I think I just out bitched a shady bitch” YES! YES YOU DID LOGAN! And holy shit the dance was the cutest thing in the whole world, they both deserve to be happy and to have fun!!!!!!!!! Yes!!!!!!!!!!!!! That whole “wanting this overrides any fear that I have” speech was just //beautiful//, and it hit home hard for me. Its just, so perfect, and they both deserve to be happy and //ugh//, /////feelings/////

“This is only the beginning” I AM SOBBING. ITS NOT EVEN 3AM ITS 3PM I DONT HAVE LACK OF SLEEP AS AN EXCUSE HOW DARE YOU (in the best of ways)

(cutting in for a hot second, but from here on out it’s turned from loving wyliwf to just loving annalise and her ability to create. I kinda wrote it as if it was going straight to her inbox (bc that was the intent) so, just warning ya! it gets personal)

i just… Wow. This has been an insane ride, and i want to print this fic and have it on a bookshelf so I can look at it and sigh longingly and lovingly, you know? To get real for a hot second, you started talking about this fic right when i was dealing with a major breakup and stressing over finals and so much more.

This fic has seriously been something ive looked forward to every week, and has been a comforting constant. I was able to relate to so much youve put patton, and Virgil, and roman and logan through in this fic, from the little nuances of working in a restaurant, to the feelings of major heartache patton went through, to having just that moment, //knowing// youve been in love with someone, of course you have! But just finally realizing it with an “oh shit”.

To being dumb teenagers and sneaking out for late night talks, to stressing about finals and having to be perfect, to relationship anxiety and feeling like you cant show your real feelings and just ugh. The way you write these boys allowed me to relate so much, it hit home in so many beautiful ways, and all I can really do is say thank you so much, for giving this to the world. To writing this and putting so much love and effort into it that it positively //shows//

i am so ecstatic to read more from this universe, and im so happy that its not quite over yet. You’re an amazing writer, and i absolutely adore you and your ability! Im not sure how to end this train of wyliwf lovin, so I’ll end it at a simple thank you, once again, for writing this absolute gift of a story. It was beautiful, and heartbreaking, and perfect in its own little way. Thank you

#cami talks #lovelylogans #*incoherent screaming in the distance* i love her writing so muCH #also #awen #this is the fic i keep screaming to you about irl!!!!!!#thank you for putting up with that screaming!!!!!!!!!!!#i have MULTIPLE EMOTIONS for this fic and MINIMAL WORDS to DESCRIBE IT!!!!! FUCK!!!!!#its just so GOOD!!!!!!#im very attached can you tell!!!!!!!!!#catch me CRYIN in the fuckin CLUB

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foreverwayward · 6 years ago

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 2 Chapter 10: Heart

Summary: After the sudden death of John, Sam and Dean, along with Riley, continue their quest for vengeance. As Sam and Riley’s powers continue to grow, the three young hunters find themselves closer to the Yellow-Eyed demon than ever before. The strength within themselves and their loyalty to each other will be tested as they are left to fight their families’ lifelong war alone, unaware that unimaginable evil will lead them to face darkness itself as they carry the weight of their fathers’ legacies.

Masterlist

Word Count: 9,027

Content Warning: language, light smut and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

Dean and Riley sat on opposite beds in the dingy motel room somewhere in San Francisco as they cleaned their guns. The familiar sound of the metal clicking as they took them apart felt like sweet, yet strange, childhood memories.

The Winchester’s eyes looked up at Riley as she focused on her task and he watched her for a brief moment as a smirk crept up his face. Even with silence between them and being lost in their work, the couple enjoyed those quiet moments. Words didn’t need to be said for them to enjoy each other’s company.

Breaking his attention away from the guns and the girl in front of him, Dean looked towards his brother. “So, this lawyer guy you checked out at the morgue today, he the first heart-free corpse in town?”

“First man,” Sam emphasized as he got a bottle of beer from the fridge. “Nate Mulligan, a local lawyer. But, over the past year, several women have gone missing. Dead bodies all washed up later in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions.”

“But no hearts?”

“No hearts. They were all hookers working Hunter’s Point.” Sam sat backward in his chair, facing his partners as he popped the cap off his drink. “Now, cops are trying to keep things under wrap, but they’re looking for a serial killer.”

“What about the lunar cycle,” Riley asked.

“Mm-hmm. Yeah, month after month, all the murders happen in the week leading up to the full moon.”

“That’s this week, right?”

“Hence the lawyer.”

Dean snickered. “Awesome.”

With a breathy laugh, Riley gazed up from her gun saying, “damn. Geeking out much over there, Dean?”

“I’m sorry, but what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight’ don’t you understand?” Dean opened a black, smaller, rectangular box filled with silver bullets. “I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven’t seen one since we were kids.”

“Okay, Sparky,” Sam started in a playful and teasing tone. “And you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland!”

Dean ignored his brother’s snarky comment. “What about you, Rye? Run into any of these guys before?”

“Uh--yeah. I was about...13 I think? Dad and I caught wind of one when we were in Minnesota right after I had really started hunting with him. It was a tough son of a bitch, I’ll tell you that much.” She was already up and putting away her gear as she tied her hair up in a messy bun and synched it tight. “My first kill on a hunt actually.”

“Damn,” he nodded, impressed. “You went balls to the wall.”

“Well, Dad always said, ‘know your gun, know your target, and don’t miss’.” She laughed at the ridiculous mantra. ”Good thing I’m a damn good shot.” Riley tilted her head with a shrug. “It’s a gift.”

Dean chuckled. “A gorgeous woman who can handle a gun, what more could I ask for?”

She bent down to kiss him with a smile as she sat on the bed.

“You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down.” Dean held up a silver bullet and admired it. “One of these bad boys right to the heart. So, what’s our next move?”

“Talk to the girl that found the body,” Sam added.

------

In a well-decorated apartment, the three stood waiting to speak to the witness. The walls were a soft neutral color with nearly sheer white window curtains. Subtle plants sat the perfect positions of the living room among the clean and somewhat modern furniture.

The witness was a young woman named Madison. She was taller than Riley and truly beautiful. Her long brunette hair ran over her shoulders and touched her chest. Madison had fuller lips and a soft skin tone that just suited her so well.

A neighbor had already been visiting when the hunters got there. He was a meek-looking man with a head of dark curly hair, with a beard and mustache to match. The man was wearing a yellow shirt with a logo from ‘Mission Church’ and a large cross.

Sam, Dean, and Riley weren’t dressed in their suits, though still posed as detectives for the case.

“I’m Detective Landis.” Dean pointed to Sam before gesturing to Riley as well. “These are my partners, Dante, and Wadleigh.”

“I don’t understand,” Madison said looking slightly confused. “I already gave my statement to the police.”

“Right. We just have to go over a few things,” Sam replied.

The man’s face looked almost sad knowing it was time for him to leave. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it. Just call me if you need anything, Madison.”

“I will. Thanks again for the casserole.” After the neighbor had taken his leave, Madison looked over to the undercover hunters. “He’s sweet. Glen--he’s a neighbor. Came over to check on me.” She exhaled. “Alright, well please--have a seat.” Madison guided them all over to the glass countered table as they sat down to talk.

“You must be pretty shaken up. You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?”

“For about two years, yeah.”

Riley looked over at the woman trying to get a read on her. “So, would you say you pretty much knew all about him?”

With a nod, Madison answered, “yeah. Probably knew more about him than he did. Nate was…” she smiled fondly. “He was nice. But, uh--I mean, you get a few scotches in him and he’d start hitting on anything within a five-mile radius. You know the type.”

“Did Nate have any enemies?” Dean inquired.

“What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack.”

“No, yeah--we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might have had a beef with him--a former client, an ex…”

Madison groaned softly hating to answer that question. “Well, this is kinda embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt--Kurt Mueller. He went a little nuts after our break up. He’s...kind of been stalking me. I guess he got it in his head that there was something going on between me and Nate and showed up at the office one day. Kurt came in pissed and started something with Nate and threw a punch. Security had to come in and drag him out. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my job.”

“When did you see Kurt last?” Riley felt a gentleness coming from Madison. She seemed like a genuinely sweet girl. Everything she was saying up until then was the whole truth. It didn’t seem like she had much to hide at all; except for the fact that Riley was able to pick up that the girl was definitely attracted to Sam.

It made her have to hide a smile she felt coming on.

“Actually, a few nights ago, the night Nate died. Kurt showed up when a bunch of us from the office went out for a drink. It was like--he was watching me? He just disappeared. I’ll be honest,” Madison paused. “He scares me.”

------

The hunters went down the steps toward the sidewalk. Bare winter trees surrounded the area and the cold bay air caused their breaths to fog.

“So, what do you guys think?” Riley asked. “I mean, the stalker ex-boyfriend hated the boss and was there the same night.”

Dean looked around the neighborhood, checking things around them as he always did. “Think he’s our dog-faced boy?”

“Well, it’s a theory,” Sam shrugged.

“We’ve gone off worse.”

As they all reached the Impala, Riley reached for the front door handle. “I say we give Kurt a friendly visit.”

Riley and the Winchesters got in the car and drove down the road.

At that moment, Madison began to peek out the window after hearing a noise from outside. Moving the curtains to get a better look, she saw Kurt standing on her lawn, staring back up at her. She gasped and jumped back.

When she went to look again, Kurt was already gone.

------

That night, the boys and Riley had arrived at Kurt’s apartment. After scoping out the area and knowing he wasn’t home, Dean picked the lock before they all went inside.

Nodding her head and giving a face of approval, Riley looked around some more before speaking. “Huh. Much nicer than what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” Sam asked.

“I dunno...not so clean and decorated. More...serial killer-ish? I mean, where’s the wall mural of Madison photos? Stalker fail.”

He chuckled and looked over to Dean who was looking in the fridge. “Anything?”

“Nah. Nothing but a six-pack and leftovers.”

“Check the freezer,” Riley said, interjecting. “Might be some frozen remains. Oh, and see if he’s got any ice cream. That sounds amazing.”

“No left-over doggie food or Haagen-Dazs.”

She sighed. “Wishful thinking.”

There was a sound nearby of a door opening and then shutting and the hunters all turned to look at each other.

Dean opened the sliding glass door out to the balcony and stepped outside. On the wall, he could see claw marks in the concrete that drug down to the ground.

“Guys,” Dean called. “Come here.” They joined him and he pointed to his find. “Check it out.”

After Sam, Dean, and Riley went back inside to continue their search for more about Kurt, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the neighborhood from outside.

Immediately, the three took off in its direction and found themselves on the side of the apartment building. In the alley, behind a large dumpster, lied the mauled body of a policeman. His flesh was torn into and his chest cavity had been ripped completely open. The fresh blood still gushed from him onto the concrete.

Sam pulled out his phone. “I’ll call 911.”

Dean pushed the dumpster out of the way before bending down to get a closer look and Riley joined him.

“I’d say Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo,” he said looking over the mangled body.

“Crap,” Riley muttered. “We gotta go check on Madison if he’s out there.”

------

It was early morning as the hunters knock on Madison’s apartment door, across the hall, Glen opened his door to the sound. “What’s going on?”

“Police business, Glen,” Dean answered.

Madison opened the door in her pajamas and robe, surprised to see them again. “What is it?” she asked, worried.

Glancing over at Glen, Sam told her, “maybe we should talk somewhere, privately.”

She stepped out of the way of the entrance letting them all in.

Riley turned to look at Glen once more and her eyes squinted slightly, not understanding on what she was picking up on him. It was strange, but she just studied him for a moment before he shut his door and disappeared into his apartment.

When they were all inside and into the kitchen, Madison poured them all cups of freshly brewed coffee. Steam formed as the warm drink filled their mugs.

“Has Kurt been here?” Sam sipped at his mug.

Riley could feel Sam’s heart flutter as he talked to Madison. His thoughts rushed and she could hear him think about how beautiful she was. Knowing they both liked each other, Riley had to somehow get them to spend time together.

Riley knew Madison would be good for Sam. Not to mention the guy hadn’t exactly spent much time with a woman since losing Jess.

“Not exactly,” she responded. “He was outside last night. Just...looking at me.”

The three exchanged looks and it didn’t go unnoticed by Madison.

“Oh god, has he done something?”

“We’re, uh--we’re not really sure...”

Dean jumped in, “It’s probably nothing, but...we just don’t wanna take any chances. In fact, one of us should probably stay here with you? Just in case he stops by. Where does he work?”

“He owns a body shop.”

“You mind grabbing that address for us?”

She nodded at his request and left the kitchen to retrieve it.

“Alright,” Sam started. “I’ll stay here. You guys go check out the body shop.”

Agreeing, almost too earnestly, Riley replied, “yeah! I think that’s a great idea!” She was smiling knowing that was her opportunity to get them together. “We’re gonna get out of here.”

Riley took Dean’s hand and waved at Sam before pulling her boyfriend along with her.

The brothers shared a quick look of uncertainty before they could no longer see each other.

When they got to the hallway, Dean closed the door behind them and glanced at her in curiosity. “What the hell was that about?”

“We…” she said hooking her arm into Dean’s, “are gonna let those two have some time alone.”

It took a second, but Dean caught on his eyebrow hooked. “Did you pick up on something?”

“Ohhhh yeah. Let’s just say...even if they have nothing to talk about, they’ll still enjoy each other’s company immensely.”

Dean grinned. “My boy.”

------

Later that morning, Madison went through her mail while Sam watched her from the kitchen. When she felt his eyes on her, she turned to meet his gaze. He smiled uncomfortably at Madison, not knowing how to act around her.

“Um...do you wanna sit on the couch?” she offered.

“No, no, no. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure,” Madison pressed sweetly. “It’s more comfortable.”

“Ah, I’m fine.”

She came back to the table with a basket of laundry and turned it over to drop it all in front of the hunter. Madison began to sift through the clothing and sorted out her underwear as she pulled out a lacy thong.

The second Sam saw the sexy underwear, he swallowed hard and blurted out, “you know what? I think I will sit on the couch.”

He awkwardly got up and went over to find another seat away from her lingerie and she smiled at his response. Sam’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out to answer.

Riley’s voice came through the line before he could even speak. “Let me guess, you’re trying to think of something to say to her and sitting all the couch like a scared teenager,” she teased.

“Did you find Kurt?”

“Nuh-uh. Dude hasn’t been in for the last week. Boss says he’s M.I.A. But, because Dean and I are just so freaking good, we got a line on where we might be able to find him.”

Sam could hear the familiar squeak of the doors as Riley and Dean got into the Impala.

“What’s she wearing?” Dean shouted loud enough for Sam to hear.

“Bye, guys.” Sam hung up immediately after, returning to his uncomfortable situation and fiddling with his hands.

Madison walked over to the couch and sat beside him before picking up the remote and turning on a soap opera.

Sam made a face, obviously unhappy with her choice.

“I saw that,” she teased.

He tried to play innocent. “What?”

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Madison smiled. “My house, my TV, and I never get to watch my show. So, suck it up.”

------

The credits from the daytime drama rolled as Sam sat on the couch completely riveted. “Wait, wait--okay, so just to get back at him, Kendall married Ethan’s father?”

“Mm-hmm. And now? All those casinos that Ethan is supposed to inherit? They’ll all go to her.”

“What a bitch!” Sam said emphatically before they both started laughing.

“Admit it. You’re hooked.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no. I wouldn’t say I’m hooked.” Madison giggled at Sam’s words. “You know, can I ask you a question? It’s--it's a little personal.”

“You’ve seen my entire underwear collection. Go ahead.”

He smiled and nodded. “Okay, um…well, you’re--you're clearly smart. I mean, your house is full--is full of great books, you know? And you’re independent…” Sam trailed off before looking over at her. “What were you doing with Kurt?”

After a pause, Madison shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like he introduced himself, like, ‘hi, I’m possessive and controlling and I like to punch people. Wanna be my girlfriend’?” The two laughed again as Sam nodded lightly. “I mean, we all make mistakes, but mine’s wanted by the police.” She took a beat again before becoming more serious. “You wanna know why I stayed with him? Really? ...I was too insecure to leave.”

“I find that hard to believe. I mean, you don’t really seem like the type.”

“Yeah, well, some stuff happened. My life changed, I changed--for the better, I think.

“What happened?”

“Well, for one thing, I got mugged.”

Sam was taken back and smiled, surprised by her answer. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?”

“Now, don’t get me wrong,” she started. “It rattled the crap outta me. But I kinda had an epiphany. I could either take control of my life or keep feeling sorry for myself. First thing I did was tell Kurt that it was time for him to go.”

“Smart move.”

“Apparently, after that? Things just kind of blossomed. All of it really has been kind of wonderful.” When Sam shrugged, she asked with a smile, “what? Doesn’t everyone think that the best thing that ever happened to them was some random, crazy act of violence?”

Sam laughed. “Not usually, but you’re--unusual,” he added awkwardly.

“Unusual like...” she circled her finger, pointing at her head in a funny gesture as to say ‘crazy’. “That kind of ‘unusual’?”

“No, no, no, no, no…” he replied earnestly. “Unusual like...impressive.” Sam looked at her like he hadn’t looked at another woman in longer than he could remember.

“...really?” Madison tried to hide her desire to grin, completely flattered, before softly asking, “you think so?”

Sam’s phone rang, interrupting their moment and he smiled, apologetically. “Hey.”

“I found him,” Dean told him over loud club music. He was sitting in a private booth of a strip club with Riley as his eyes landed on Kurt who was drinking a beer.

“Good. Don’t take your eyes off him,” Sam’s voice echoed from the other end of the line.

Dean ended the call as Riley gave him a flirty look. “What’s going on in that little mind of yours?”

“Well…” Riley got up and straddled Dean with her arms around his neck.

His hands went to her waist and gripped at her hips as his breath hitched.

“We’re in a strip club and you’re trying not to look at naked women because of me. Least I can do is make sure you get a little show…” She bit her lip and played with the back of his neck.

Dean beamed and he suddenly got antsy in his seat as she took off her jacket, revealing her low cut, black tank top. Her lace bra poked out the top just enough to be the perfect tease.

As she began to slowly grind on his lap to the music, Dean tried to hide the groan that tried to claw its way out of his throat. Their jeans rubbed together in the most perfect way as the heat between them rose.

Riley could see him begin to wiggle underneath him and she grinned before leaning into his ear. “Good thing the music’s loud,” she whispered. “Wouldn’t want anyone else knowing you’re gonna be getting a strip club ‘happy ending’.” She softly nibbled his ear and that moan finally escaped him.

Dean grabbed her backside and encouraged her grinding as he looked her in her eyes intently. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Hey, don’t forget to keep an eye on the creep alright?” she reminded him.

“Right--right.” Dean almost moaned as his mouth found her neck. “We’re on a job and I take my work...very seriously,” he mumbled into her skin.

------

Riley and Dean had followed Kurt back to his apartment building. It was night and they leaned against a large dumpster in the alley below as they watched for anything to happen. Loud music came from Kurt’s place and the lights were all still on.

Loading her gun with a silver bullet, Riley cocked it. She gazed up at the apartment and then back at Dean who was pouting.

“I get five minutes in a booth with you and the guy takes off,” he complained with a huff. “You know it’s been over a week since we’ve had time alone together? I’m dying over here.”

She chuckled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a tease--thought for sure we’d have more time.”

“Yeah, well...you better be ready when the opportunity presents itself because you started something and I’m fucking finishing it.”

Riley bit her lip and met his eyes. “Mm…” she mewed. “Better keep that promise.”

Grabbing the back of her head as his fingers tangled into her hair, Dean pulled her in for a passionate and heated kiss.

Not more than a few seconds later, a loud crash of glass shattering came from above them and they turned to the sound as the lights above turned off.

“What that fuck?” Dean muttered before they both ran towards the entrance of the building in a sprint.

After they had climbed the stairs and finally reached the apartment, Dean kicked open the door with he and Riley holding their guns ready.

He glided in first, clearing the room as she covered his back. They split up as Dean went into the bedrooms and Riley into the kitchen. She slowed down as she heard a loud crunching coming from just ahead.

Riley peered inside and lowered her gun in shock. On the floor, was Kurt. His chest was torn to shreds and a woman was feeding on his freshly dead corpse.

The creature heard the hunter and turned in her direction. Electric blue eyes with slanted pupils that resembled a cat, stared back at her. The creature’s nails had grown long into deadly claws. Fierce, blood-stained teeth snarled harshly as flesh fell from her mouth. It was Madison.

“Oh shit…” Riley murmured under her breath. In that brief moment, the hunter could finally hear the growling inside the monster. It sounded more primal than anything she had ever heard before and it sounded hungry.

Before she could yell for Dean, Madison lunged at her and threw her against the wall. Riley grunted at the impact and fell to the ground. Her gun fell from her hand and out of her reach as her eyes began to close.

Dean rushed into the room at the commotion and found Riley and Kurt’s body on the floor. Whatever had been in the kitchen with them, had already fled. He fell to his knees by his girlfriend’s side with fear and dropped his gun. “Sweetheart--Rye, you okay?”

Suddenly, there was a sound coming from behind him and when he spun around, Dean’s eyes widened as he saw Madison charging towards him. She had already been too close for him to react. The was no time to grab his gun before he was shoved across the room and hit the wooden floor.

The werewolf jumped on top of him and he struggled to hold her back as he pulled out a silver knife and sliced her arm.

Madison growled out loudly in pain before dashing towards the open window and disappearing into the night.

Dean had hit his head as well and the room began to grow dark around him. “Riley…” he whispered before losing consciousness.

------

“Dean��” Riley begged as she shook him. “Dean, wake up.”

He slowly opened his eyes and saw her hovering above him as the soft morning light glowed on her face.

Riley sighed in relief and Dean instantly reached up for her.

“Shit, are you alright?! I couldn’t get to you. Madison...she came outta nowhere...”

Riley shushed him. “Dean, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

Dean grunted as he sat up, sore from the blow, but he had to get to Riley. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.

As though it had all finally come back to him, he pulled away and grabbed for his phone. “Shit. I gotta call Sam.”

------

Sam walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass before turning on the faucet to get a glass of water. His lips met the rim and he drank while his cell phone rang. It was Dean.

“Dean, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, now that we’re both conscious. The werewolf knocked us both out cold. Sam, it’s Madison.”

“What?!” Sam asked in shock. He walked into the living room and then down towards her bedroom and opened her door. She was sound asleep in her bed.

Riley stretched her neck and seethed through her teeth at the pain before yelling, “nice job keeping an eye on the girl, Sam!”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Sam’s brow furrowed and he was more than taken back. “She’s in bed, asleep.”

“Well, she wasn’t a couple hours ago. Check her right arm below her elbow,” Dean pushed. “I nicked her with a silver knife.”

Sam hung up the phone and stood in Madison’s room near the foot of her bed. She woke to the sound of his boots hitting the floor.

“Good morning,” she cooed. Sitting up to look at him, Madison realized she was naked, covered only by her bed sheet.

Sam could see the cut on her arm that Dean had described as she wrapped her arm over her chest.

“Um...where are my pajamas?”

Shaken and clearly upset at what he had just discovered, Sam didn’t say a word, only to leave the room and stomp off.

“Sam?” she called. Madison wrapped a blanket around her and went after him. “Sam, what’s going on? Where are you going?” She walked into the living room to see him at the front door, locking it.

“I’m not going anywhere...and neither are you.”

------

After allowing her to get dressed, Sam had bound her wrists to a chair in the main room. He stood in front of her with a gun in hand and his arms slightly folded. Sam was so angry with himself for being so foolish. He kept telling himself that he should have known.

“You’re psychotic,” Madison told him. “The whole ‘I’m a cop’ trick? God, I’m so stupid.”

“Well, I guess neither of us are who we are we were, huh?” Sam snarked.

Fear filled Madison as she stared at the hunter and she fought back the urge to cry. “Sam, you’re sick, okay? You’re imagining things. Monsters don’t exist, not really.”

“You know what? Save the act.”

“It’s not an act!” she finally sobbed. “I am not a werewolf! There’s no such thing! It’s made up, alright? Th--they’re not real! You know they’re not real!”

“No?!” he snapped and pointed to her fresh wound. “Then where did that come from?”

“I don’t know! Sam, God, you need help. Please, don’t do something that you’re gonna regret. I’m not what you think I am. I’m not.”

Sam was visibly upset and shaking with both rage and pain after having developed feelings for her. There was a knocking at the door and he went to answer it.

Dean entered and Riley followed. The older brother smirked at Madison.

“How you doin’? My head feels great, thanks. By the way, you’re lucky I don’t put a bullet in your right now for hurting her.” Dean threatened, pointing at Riley.

“We’ve gotta talk.” Sam brought his partners into the other room to talk in private. “She says she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

“She’s lying.”

“Or, maybe she really doesn’t know she’s changing, you know? Maybe--maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out.”

Annoyed with his brother’s theory, Dean rolled his eyes. “Like a really hot Incredible Hulk? Come on, dude, she ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious.”

“Yeah, but what if it was, Dean? I mean, what if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats? Hell, the cop, too.”

“What are you, the Dog Whisperer now?” Riley asked with attitude.

“Look, I just...I don’t know. There--there was something in her eyes.”

“...the look of a killer, mayhaps?”

“But if she has no control over it--”

“Exactly,” Dean agreed. “She can’t control it. Even if she’s telling the truth, it’s not gonna change anything.”

“I’m not putting a bullet through some girl’s chest who has no idea what’s happening.”

“Sam, she’s a monster and you’re feeling sorry for her?”

“Maybe I understand her.” Sam paused and his face softened with almost a pleading look. “Look, there might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her.” He went over to his bag and pulled out John’s hunter’s journal.

Riley put up a hand to interrupt. “Another way to stop a werewolf? Oh, this should be interesting.”

“Dad’s theory--” The youngest Winchester read his father’s words. “Lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline”.

“Might have a cure.” Dean started. “Meaning “who the fuck knows?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

Riley sighed heavily. She could feel Sam’s emotions, how desperately he wanted to find an answer. She wanted more than anything for Sam to be happy, but she’d be damned if he’d be with a werewolf.

Gently, Riley told him, “Sam, where would we even start looking? I mean, the bitch that bit her could be long gone. Could be anyone...or anywhere. Madison could have been bitten years ago.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with a realization. “No. I don’t think so.” He led them both back into the living room where Madison was still tied to the seat. “Madison, when were you mugged?”

She just looked up at Sam, scared and hurt as she refused to comply.

“Please. It’s important, alright? Just answer the question.”

“About a month ago.”

“Did you see the guy?”

“No. He grabbed me from behind.”

“Did he bite you?”

Madison looked at Sam as tears formed in her eyes. “On--on the back of my neck. How did you know that?”

Showing that he meant her no harm, Sam made it clear to her that he was setting his gun down on the table and went behind her.

Brushing her hair away, he exposed a scarred lump the size of a golf ball on her neck. Riley and Dean joined him to see what he had found.

“Oh, that’s just a love bite,” Dean teased. “Believe me, that could have been a lot worse. Actually, I think she’s gotten worse,” he nodded in Riley’s direction and smiled with pride.

Riley scoffed through a laugh and hid her face while Sam gave him a look urging him to move on.

Dean cleared his throat. “Where were you at the time?”

“Walking home from a friend’s loft.”

“Let me guess, not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Dean asked as he circled her.

Madison nodded.

As the brothers motioned for them to all leave the room again to talk, Riley stood in her spot just looking at the woman who had attacked them only hours before. She was trying to penetrate her mind and see if she had been lying.

Unfortunately, it seemed that besides the animalistic noises that came from monsters; thoughts of creatures were much harder to read.

A minute more of focusing, Riley could finally hear her. “What is she looking at me like that for? Oh my god, they’re gonna kill me. They’re all crazy. They really think I’m a werewolf. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?”

The hunter’s face softened and her muscles relaxed. Riley turned on her heel to meet the boys. She swung open the kitchen door where Sam and Dean were talking.

Sam was finishing his thought. “The same place where those other murders happened. I’m telling you, it’s a werewolf’s hunting grounds.”

“Maybe,” Dean returned. “But that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be out there tonight.”

“You guys…” Riley said softly.

“It’s the right time of the lunar cycle,” Sam nodded. “Look, I know it’s a long shot.”

“Guys…” she tried again.

“Hey, you’re forgetting something. Maddie’s probably gonna turn soon, alright? We can’t just let her take off to an all-you-can-eat buffet,” Dean snarked.

Riley huffed and raised her voice. “Alright, if you both don’t listen to me right now, I’m gonna start kicking your asses.”

Sam and Dean’s eyes widened slightly as they both gave each other a look of ‘yikes’.

She sighed, calming herself. “I got through to Madison. Yes, she’s something you probably don’t wanna feed after midnight, but she really doesn’t know she’s a werewolf.”

“Wait, seriously?” Sam asked hopefully.

“Yeah. She thinks we’re all nuts. The girl is scared out of her mind.”

“I’m gonna stay with her. You guys go.”

“And if she busts loose?” Dean waited for his brother to respond and when he didn’t he grew more stern. “Sam?”

Sam’s voice broke a little as he told him, “I’ll shoot her, okay? But Dean, I need you to go out there--at least go look for the thing. Guys, please. We can save this girl.”

Feeling everything that radiated from Sam, all the pain and desperation, Riley knew it was all so real for him. This wasn’t just a crush. Sam felt something for Madison--something he hadn’t felt in a long time and he wasn’t ready to give it up.

“Okay,” Riley told him. “Let’s do it your way.”

Dean was looking intently at his brother with worry and she reached for his hand.

“Come on, Dean,” she whispered as they both left.

When Sam went back into the living room, he saw Madison still in her chair, with tears running down her face. “Please…” she begged through her sobbing. “Please...just let me go.”

He sighed heavily and hated to see her in pain. The hunter grabbed a chair and pulled it closer so he could sit in front of her. “Look…” Sam’s tone was soft and gentle. “I know you’re scared. I also know that there’s no way in hell you’re gonna believe me. But I’m doing this because I’m trying to help you. I’m not gonna lie, alright? The odds aren’t exactly in our favor. But, if this goes the way I pray it does...I’ll untie you, and I’ll walk out that door, and I’ll never come back. You’ll live the rest of your life,” his voice was almost at a whisper as he felt the lump in his throat grow and tears forming at his eyes. “...and I’ll just be a bad memory.”

------

Sam stood looking out the window, his heart heavy with guilt. He gazed at the moon as it’s light softly glowed on him and the curtains of the windows.

Hearing something behind him, he turned to see Madison. Her fingernails began to grow before his eyes and stretched into long claws.

Madison’s eyes changed to a bright blue and her teeth had suddenly become monstrous. She growled as she bared her hungry fangs and ripped through the restraints that held her down, releasing herself. The now turned werewolf went straight for the hunter.

Her claws met Sam’s cheek and tore through his skin. Madison’s strength was enough to send him to the ground onto his belly.

Sam quickly got up and drew his weapon.

He couldn’t shoot her. He wouldn’t shoot her. There had to be another way to buy some time.

Sam backed up as Madison eased towards him with her mouth drooling, ready to rip him apart and devour him.

Realizing there was a door to her bedroom behind him, he pulled it open as she lunged in his direction. Immediately, Sam slammed the door shut behind her and pushed the entertainment center in front of it.

The door rattled and shook as the creature inside banged and fought to free itself.

------

In a dark alley in Hunter’s Point, Riley and Dean had been canvassing the area. The night was still as they stayed quiet and vigilantly looked for the creature they hoped to find. They wouldn’t be splitting up this time.

A blood-curdling scream came from nearby and the hunters sped in its direction. Their hearts beat fast and their breaths quickened as their boots rapidly hit the street.

Dean and Riley stopped when they saw a blonde woman screaming for help with a man on top of her. He was growling, had massive claws, and his fangs were ready to feast.

Being quick at the draw, they both fired two shots each directly into the werewolf’s chest. He jolted at each bullet and then collapsed beside the woman as he began to cough up blood.

The blonde, scared and shaken, got up and ran off.

“You’re welcome!” Dean shouted.

Riley scurried over to the defeated creature knowing exactly who it was. It was Glen, Madison’s neighbor. She knew then why she felt that strange feeling coming from him before.

As she looked down at him, Riley crouched nearer as his eyes and teeth returned to their human state.

Blood poured from his mouth and his body shook in shock. “It happened...again,” Glen choked. “Where am I? H--help me. Oh, God. Oh my God.”

Closing her eyes, Riley went to touch his arm.

Dean blurted, “Rye, don’t.”

“It’s okay, Dean...he’s not gonna hurt me.” She focused all her energy and thought, “please, let me at least do this right.”

Riley reached into him and brought about thoughts of better times into his mind. Her abilities helped ease Glen’s moment of terror as flashes of childhood memories swam through him. There was a brief smile as he released his final breath.

That breeze of death that Riley had begun to expect blew through her as his soul left his body.

------

Madison awoke in the comfort of her bed. The morning birds sang as she opened her eyes and looked towards the doorway, there was Sam. The door had nearly been torn apart with claw marks leaving it completely destroyed.

“It should be over now.” Sam’s eyes flooded and he sniffled. “You’ll never see me again.”

She slowly got up and surveyed her bedroom. All the furniture and walls were ruined beyond recognition. Scratches and tears ripped through everything she owned.

As her eyes went back to find Sam, he was already gone.

------

“It’s sad actually,” Dean started as they all sat in the Impala outside Madison’s home. “Glen had no clue what was going on. Hey, why do you guys think he didn’t kill Madison? I mean, why turn her?”

Sam stared up at the house, still wishing he could go back inside. “I think he had a thing for her.”

There was a silence that fell in the car and Riley shifted to look at Sam who sat in the back seat. “Sam, what about Madison?”

“What about her?”

“Oh, come on. I know how you feel about her. I can feel it practically seeping out of you. With how strong these feelings are, hell, I miss her.”

“What do you want me to do, Rye? She thinks I’m a fucking lunatic.

Dean shrugged. “You saved her life, man.”

“She doesn’t know that.”

Madison appeared at the window beside them. “You know, for a stake-out, your car’s a little conspicuous. What are you still doing here?”

“Honestly?” Dean replied. “Uh--we’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight, but we’ve gotta be a hundred percent, so, you know, we’re...lurking.”

Riley gave Dean a look and slapped his arm. “You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend. His mouth tends to run away from him.”

“I know this sounds crazy,” Sam told her with hopeful eyes just happy to see her again.

“Sure does.” Madison paused with a sigh. “So, you were telling the truth weren’t you? About everything. You were just trying to protect me…”

Sam nodded softly. “Yeah.”

She wasn’t ready to let him go. Sam already meant more to her than Madison cared to admit. “Well, if we’re gonna wait it out...we might as well do it together.”

------

Just short of twenty-four hours later, the hunters had waited out the next long night. All four watched from the large window in front of the house as the sun rose over the horizon.

Madison had made it through the night without turning.

“Does--does this mean it worked?” Madison asked eagerly.

The tense muscles Sam had carried over the last two days finally relaxed as he looked at her. “Yeah. I think so.”

She sighed in relief, “oh my God. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Madison’s arms wrapped around Sam in a warm and grateful embrace.

Wanting to be recognized as well, Dean cleared his throat and she turned to face him with a smile.

“Yes, you too, Dean...and of course Riley. Thank you.”

“Aw, don’t mention it,” Dean told her as if her words weren’t necessary.

There was an awkward pause in the room and Riley could hear Sam’s thoughts. “God, are they ever going to leave? Jesus.”

Following immediately after was Madison’s. “They’re not gonna want to stay, right?”

Riley clapped her hands together. “So, Dean, I think it’s time you and I head back to the motel room.” She smirked and put an arm around his waist.

Dean’s arm dropped down over her shoulders and he shot her a playful look. “Oh, that is most definitely true. We’ll, uh--we’ll just leave you two kids to it.” As he and Riley walked towards the door, Dean pumped his fist up in the air as a signal to Sam before the couple disappeared behind the closing door.

“That was smooth,” Madison joked with a laugh.

Sam was mortified by his big brother. “He means well, but…”

“You mean, he thinks you’re gonna get laid.”

“Look, I--”

“Sam,” she said shaking her head. “It’s alright.”

“No. I know I scared the shit out of you, alright? I--I mean, I tied you to a chair.”

“That’s right up there with me scratching up your face.”

“There’s just no way...we could go back, you know? Before it happened.”

“You’re right. There’s just no way.”

The two stood in front of each other fighting every urge they had for the other. Sam’s heart beat hard in his chest as he stared into her brown eyes. wanting her more than anything.

Madison bit her bottom lip and after a moment, she surrendered and kissed him.

Immediately responding, Sam pushed her against the wall as they kissed passionately.

They stripped each other of their clothing and made their way to the bedroom, falling back onto the bed. The fireplace glowed through the room and danced on their skin as the couple went back and forth over who would pin down the other.

Sam kissed every part of her body in earnest and he bit at her neck and ear. Pulling her up and into his lap, Sam brought them together as they both moaned out in unison.

It was better than Sam had even imagined. They rocked together before he laid them down and continued to give himself to her as he groaned into her neck.

Throughout the day and into the night, Sam and Madison continued to make love again and again as they let go of all they had been holding back. Finally, they both fall asleep in each other’s arms, completely content.

------

The door to the motel room swung open and hit the wall as Dean and Riley came through, already kissing each other in hunger.

Dean kicked the door closed behind them, never breaking away from her. Both went to work quickly undressing the other as their lips clung together. Dean picked her up and held her tightly under her upper thigh as her legs wrapped around him. Carrying her over to the bed, he sat on the edge as Riley slowed them down and gazed deep into his eyes.

They drank each other in as she lowered herself onto his lap and Dean’s jaw went slack as he moaned deep from his chest.

Riley’s head fell back as she lost herself in everything he was and his mouth went to her exposed chest and neck.

After a few moments, Dean picked her up once again and flipped her onto the bed never releasing their bond. He grabbed the headboard and forced himself as far as he could as Riley moaned his name.

“Look at me…” he whispered through a grunt. Their eyes met again and they both shook with pleasure. “I love you.”

Panting, Riley fought to catch her breath. “I love you, Dean.”

------

The next morning, Riley and Dean laid together in bed, tangled in each other. Riley traced her fingers on his chest and he rubbed her back as the silent minutes passed peacefully.

“Dean,” Riley picked up her head and placed her chin onto his chest and he lovingly looked back at her. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay…” He brushed her hair behind her ear.

Closing her eyes to gain her courage she took a deep breath. “The Demon. He came to me in my dreams.”

Dean’s eyes grew. “What? When did that happen?”

“Actually...it happens almost every night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? What does he say?”

“That I’m special and I’m not like the rest.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Dean, he said he’s coming for me.”

Dean quickly sat up to lean against the headboard and pulled her up with him before holding her chin in place for their eyes to lock. “I won’t let that happen. Do you hear me? I’m gonna keep you safe.”

“Dean...what if you can’t? What if Sam was right? Maybe this is our destiny.”

“No.” Dean’s voice was stern and adamant. “You and Sam? You’re all that matters to me. There is nothing and no one that will ever take either of you away from me. I will burn the world to the ground before I let you go.” His hands found both sides of her face as he kissed her hard and fervently. “If you’re in this with me, Rye...then it’s till the end.”

Riley’s hand sat on top of his as it cupped her cheek and she sniffled back her tears. “...till the end,” she whispered. She looked towards the door and her brow furrowed as she focused on a feeling nearby. “Sam…?”

There was a loud bang at the door and Dean grabbed a sheet to cover himself as he went to answer. The banging continued relentlessly. “I’m coming!” he yelled.

When he opened the door, there stood Sam, completely breathless and panicked. “She--she turned.”

“What?!”

“I couldn’t grab her in time. She’s out there somewhere.”

“We’ll find her, Sammy,” Dean offered in comfort. He turned around to run back inside for his clothes while Riley was already half-dressed and hurrying to go.

------

Sam, Dean, and Riley all hurried down the stairs from the China Sea Motel. The cold wind blew through them and Riley’s hair flew slightly behind her.

“I already called Bobby,” Sam started. “He doesn’t know anything. Well, except he knew that severing bloodlines doesn’t work. All our connections agree with him too. It’s completely impossible to reverse.”

Riley shook her head. “But it doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t she turn during the night when we were all with her?”

“There’s gotta be a way to help her--some legend or something with answers.”

“If there was, don’t you think someone we know would have known it?” Dean asked.

“Well, we just have to look harder until we fucking find something!”

Dean put his hand out and stopped Sam so he could look him in the eye. “Sam, I don’t think we got a choice here anymore. I mean, she’s a sweet girl and I hate to say it, but part of her is--”

“Evil?!” Sam interjected. “Yeah, that’s what they say about me, Dean! And Riley! So, us you won’t kill, but her you’re just gonna blow away?”

Sam’s phone rang and he answered with a scoff still frustrated with Dean. He didn’t get a word in before someone spoke through the line. “Madison…? Where are you?” he questioned in a panic.

His brother and sister both looked at him, anxiously awaiting answers.

“Okay, Maddie, stay there. We’re coming to get you.”

------

The hunters sat at Madison’s dining room table with her and listened to her tell her story of the night before. Sam’s eyes refused to leave her face as he felt a swell of emotions for her.

Riley had to close her eyes and focus to keep his pain from consuming her along with Madison’s own fear and guilt.

The gun that sat on the table felt like a dark cloud that hung over them all.

“I don’t remember anything,” Madison recounted to the others. “I probably killed someone last night. Didn’t I?”

“I don’t think there’s any way to know that yet,” Riley replied in a soothing voice.

“Is there something else we can try to make it go away?”

Sam refused to give up on her. There had to be a way. “We’ll find something. I mean, there’s gotta be some answer--somewhere.”

Interrupting, Dean looked at the scared woman and shook his head. “That’s not entirely true. Madison, you deserve to know. We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure.”

She turned to Sam in desperation. “Is--is he right?”

The young Winchester’s jaw clenched and he felt he would explode in pain as he stood and turned away. A lump in his throat grew so large he could hardly swallow.

“Well, we could lock you up at night,” Dean offered hesitantly. “But...you bust out, and some night you will, someone else dies. I’m sorry. I am.”

Madison began to cry and exhaled heavily. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then.”

Shocked at her response, Sam spun around to look at her. “Stop it,” he told her. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Sam, I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” Her voice broken as her gaze met his. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” Madison picked up the gun and walked over to Sam.

“Put that down.”

“I can’t do it myself.” She handed him the gun and swallowed hard. “I need your help.”

“Madison, no.”

“Sam...I’m a monster.”

Sam’s breaths grew harder and harder to catch as their conversation went on. “You don’t have to be. We can find a way, alright? I can. I’m gonna save you.”

Crying even harder, she pleaded with the hunter. “You tried. I know you tried. But this is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you.”

“I can’t,” he said firmly.

Tears streamed down Madison’s face and rolled down her neck. “I don’t wanna die. But I can’t live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please. I’m asking you to save me.”

Sam shook his head, unable to find any more words.

Riley had a tear falling down her face as she touched Dean’s shoulder. “You have to help him. He can’t do this, Dean. It’ll kill him.”

Dean looked to her and acknowledged the thought as he got up slowly and moved closer to the couple. He delicately took the gun from Madison’s hand and Sam walked to the kitchen.

She stood in the spot where he left her as Riley and Dean followed Sam into the other room.

Sam’s lips and jaw trembled as he choked back his tears. His partners silently entered and walked over to him.

“Sam,” Dean said behind him gently. “I’m sorry.”

With tears filling his eyes, Sam turned around to look at them and his face quickly grew wet as his heart broke to pieces. “No, you’re right. She’s right.”

“Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it.”

“She asked me to.”

Riley tried so hard not to cry and be strong for Sam. But, the pain that broke through him hit her chest so hard it took the wind out of her. His suffering was so immense and she couldn’t fix it.

Trying to bring him comfort wouldn’t help, telling Sam it was going to be okay wouldn’t do anything. Riley’s tears fell as she reached for his arm. “You don’t have to do this, Sammy.”

Sam sobbed. “Yes, I do. Please.” He held out his hand with tears streaming down his face, waiting for the gun.

Dean finally obliged and placed it in his brother’s shaking hand.

“Just wait here.” As Sam went to the doorway, he glanced back at Riley and Dean, his face soaking wet and his chest rising and falling rapidly. He then turned and slowly stepped back into the living room.

With Sam out of the room, Riley lost control of her abilities. Sam’s emotions were too strong and they overwhelmed her in a way she had never felt from someone else before.

Riley’s knees buckled and Dean caught her as she wept. “I--I can’t…” she uttered through her tears. “It hurts so much. Sam--he…it hurts, Dean…”

Wrapping his arms around her, Dean held her tight against his chest. He kissed her head as a tear ran down his own cheek. “Focus on me. Stay here with me.”

Riley tried to listen to Dean’s heartbeat and drown out the agony in the air, but it was useless. The sound of a single gunshot went off and the two flinched. Not able to fight it anymore, Riley went nearly limp in Dean’s chest and wailed silently into him.

Her brother’s heartbreak was her own as the wind was knocked from her chest. It felt as though she was dying, like she would never fully breathe again. It was pure and unimaginable suffering that she couldn’t shut out. If that was what he was feeling, how could Sam ever come back from this?

Sam swore he would save Madison, only in the end, he couldn’t.

Dean’s promise echoed through Riley’s mind in that deafening silence. Maybe her fate would be the same, her light snuffed out by the man she cared for most; a tragic love story to which there would be no happy ending, only darkness and death.

------

S2 Chapter 11: What is and What Should Never Be

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