#remove Drain Punch and she's one of my favorite fights

[antisocialmedia-asm]

#been playing bdsp #I love how Maylene's Machoke covers her weaknesses #I love how she'll switch out Meditite if you're setting up #I love how she uses Bulk Up #I love how she has a strategy #I do not love how she can heal to full super fucking easily through the potions and Drain Punch #love Lucario #hate HER Lucario #remove Drain Punch and she's one of my favorite fights #pokemon #bdsp #brilliant diamond #shining pearl #d/p/pt #maylene #pokemon maylene

[foreverindreamlandd]

Bucky wanted to read her fanfictions and she always declined. So he begged and begged and begged... until she finally gives up and let him read one. 'Cause who could really say no to Bucky making puppy eyes?!

Let me know what you think about it

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 1.5k (I am apparently incapable of writing a drabble)

A/N: Thank you again for another awesome request! I was basically cackling the whole time I wrote it. Want to read about how Bucky and this reader got together? Check out their origin story in my To Be Wanted series! Only warning in this one is the usual swearin’ like a sailor.

----

“See, this is why I always order Thai food. I can never do it justice.” You frown over your wok, mixing the noodles around with a wooden spoon hoping it will somehow make your creation taste better.

“I’m sure it tastes great, doll.” Bucky walks up next to you and grabs a noodle, tilting his head back as he drops it into his mouth.

His eye twitches almost imperceptibly and you groan.

“It’s good,” he coughs out, trying with all of his strength to regain his composure. “I think you just went a little too hard on the chili paste. I can feel my sinuses clearing up though, which is good, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Can you check the recipe on Pinterest again? I swear I put in the right amount.”

Bucky walks over and picks up your iPad. Right as he’s scrolling to find out if you should have used 2 tablespoons or 2 teaspoons of chili paste, a notification banner pops up and he accidently taps it, opening up your Tumblr app.

Omg! This fic is amazing! The way Bucky is there to support the reader. My heart completely melted! Your Bucky stories are amazing, Y/n! <3

Above the comment is a photo of him. It’s a shot from the news where he’s helping a civilian stand up after one of the attacks made by The Red Hand.

“Uh….love? What’s this?” He holds the iPad up to you and you shift your gaze over to him.

You drop the wooden spoon into the wok as all of the blood drains from your face. You’re frozen in place for a millisecond before you pounce on Bucky to grab the device from him. He’s never seen you move so quickly and it catches him off guard.

“Bucky give me the iPad right now,” you fling your arms toward it and he pulls it away, both amused and a bit concerned by your reaction.

“Wait, what is this? Is it something I should be worried about?”

You see a flicker of panic flash in his eyes and you stop flailing. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“No, I mean, I should be concerned because if you read that I’m probably going to combust and you’re going to dump me and run for the hills.” He furrows his brows in confusion and you slowly lift up your hand. “Can I please have that back before I have a mild panic attack?”

He stares at you, trying to gauge your emotions. All he can see is panic and sadness and it breaks his heart so he instantly gives in and hands you the iPad.

“Don’t worry about it, love. I trust you.” He leans forward to give you a chaste kiss.

You let out a pained groan against his lips and Bucky is once again confused.

“Ughhhh I hate hiding things from you.” You lock your iPad so the screen goes dark. “Okay, fine, I guess this conversation is happening. Remember when we first started dating and I, uh, mentioned I used to read and write stories about….us being a couple?”

Bucky nods, trying not to reveal any emotion to you that might make you spiral into a panic, and you continue.

“Well, that was one of those stories I wrote. I stopped looking on Tumblr basically as soon as I met you because it got all weird and meta and I got super uncomfy by the idea of reading fanfics - that’s what they’re called - about my new friend/now boyfriend Bucky Barnes. And then we started dating and I was all happy and shit and I totally forgot that those fics were still out there. Obviously I haven’t written any since then because that would be weird for...many, many reasons. Someone must have found an old one and commented on it. I’ll delete it. I’ll delete all of them. I swear. I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should have been more on top of this.”

Bucky stares at you, lips pursed and you grimace, afraid of the next words that are about to come out of his mouth.

This is so weird, Y/n. How could you do this?

No wonder you didn’t date anyone before me.

Obsessed much? (Okay, he probably wouldn’t say it like that but STILL).

No, what Bucky said next was much, much worse than what you could have imagined.

“Can I read one?”

Your mouth drops. Closes. Drops again. You blink rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I just hallucinated. What?”

Bucky points to your iPad, a sly grin forming on his face. “I want to read one of your stories.”

You take a step back from him, horror stricken as you pull the iPad closer to you as if you were protecting your collector’s edition of ‘Throne of Glass.’

“Absolutely not.”

Bucky steps forward and you step back. He chuckles. “Come onnn, doll. I want to know what your fantasies were about me before we got together.” He laughs harder as the look of horror on your face grows more manic.

“Bucky, I know you’re a super soldier and could probably punch me into the sun with your metal arm, but I promise I will fight to the death before I let you read one of these fics.”

You and Bucky continue this dance of him stepping forward and you stepping back until you feel your legs make contact with your couch and you fall back into a sitting position on its arm. Bucky uses this opportunity to tower over you, his arms resting on the couch so that you’re pinned between them.

Then, he pulls out the big guns.

His gaze softens, blue eyes shining into yours. His bottom lip puffs out and he gives you the most adorable, sexiest pout you’ve seen in your whole life.

“Please, love?” He says it with a slightly higher pitch, almost like a whine and it still sounds like honey to your ears. He even nudges your nose with his like a freaking sociopath.

Damn.

You close your eyes, let out a breath, then open them back up to him. “I hate you.”

His pout turns into a boyish grin and he gives you a quick kiss. “You love me.”

You groan. “Hopefully you still love me after this, Buck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You stand and open up your iPad, scrolling through your masterlist and finding what used to be one of your favorite fluff pieces. You begrudgingly hand it to Bucky and he sits on the couch.

Unable to sit still during this agonizing experience, you proceed to pace around your apartment like a crazy person and resort to cleaning the inside of your microwave which you haven’t done in a few months so it’s a good thing that Bucky is reading your fic so that you could get that out of the way. You probably won’t have a boyfriend in a few minutes but at least your microwave will be spotless.

You only steal a few glances at Bucky as he reads, mortified each time as you see his eyebrows move in every possible direction. Up, down, knit together, were they criss-crossed at one point?

Finally, after what feels like the longest ten minutes of your life, Bucky lets out a soft grunt, placing the iPad down on his lap. He looks up to you and you give him a weak smile.

“Alright, let me have it, Buck. Give me your worst. Be honest. Also, I love you.”

Bucky glances down at the iPad and then back at you.

“Well, I have a few questions.”

Your right eye twitches. “Hm?”

“Now that you’ve met me, do you still think my eyes are an all-consuming storm of blue?” You groan. He grins. “Or do you think my jawline was cut from marble created by the gods?”

This time, you breathe out a laugh and you walk over to sit on his lap. You take hold of his chin.

“Bucky, I don’t think I could ever come up with the right words to describe you. The real thing is quite literally a million times better than anything I’ve ever written.”

His eyebrows raise. “That is...probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten in my whole damn life.” He leans forward and kisses you, and you sigh into the feeling of his mouth on yours, relief flooding through you.

You pull away, eyes skeptical. “So, you’re not thinking about how you can escape and never see my crazy ass again?”

“On the contrary, love, I’m thinking about how I can convince you to buy this gorgeous green dress you apparently wore as my wedding date. The one that showed off your cleavage in a way that made Bucky’s brain melt.”

The two of you burst out laughing and you lightly shove his chest. “Sure thing, Bucko. How about I work on the dress situation and you work on ordering us Thai food so that we don’t lose our taste buds from whatever the hell I just made.”

-----

Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here. :)

Taglist: @ceo-of-daichi @biiskuitx @forgetthisbull @eclipses-and-moondust @abcdefxkyou @jackiehollanderr @billionsofbeans @abitgryffindorky @lovelylostminds @mija-just-breathe @semlohkratz @bratty-longbottom-replies @carrotfantasimp @cremedelabrulee @ant1r3al1ty @th-e-mg@laura-moehrchen @emma-the-duck17 @sunnyjane4 @rosaline-black @parodsal000 @vicmc624 @abrunettefangirlnerd @officiallykuute @edityourwishingwell @mymindslabyrinth

***This was the original tag list for the To Be Wanted series. If you would like to be removed from the taglist for any other stories related to this series, feel free to DM me! And let me know if you would like to be *added* to the taglist for any other future stories featuring these two knuckleheads. :)

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #to be wanted #james bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #plus size!reader #plus size #fanfic #fanfiction #sebastian stan #inbox

[cajunquandary]

Hands that Heal

Link: (coming soon to Ao3)

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little push the right direction...

Created for: @negans-lucille-tblr SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Rating: 18+ only

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Jay)

Warnings: Jealous Dean, fluff, smut, smidge of angst, medical IV (briefly), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy)

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Happy Holidays, @jay-and-dean! I was so ecstatic to have received your name and hope that my ramblings make you smile a little.

.

It’s a funny thing, the way everyone goes on about the eyes being windows to the soul. Of course, they can be very telling, and if you ever catch yourself getting lost in those of the Winchesters, how could you believe anything else? Or perhaps you are more like Jay. 

Jay has been with the Winchesters for quite some time. She’s been lost in those eyes. And she’s been found. The pure green folds of Dean’s have scooped her up, swaddled her, saved her. So have Sam’s hazel, but not in quite the same way. Not that either brother knows. Only Cas. 

Cas has seen the way her deep brown eyes linger just a little longer than they ought to, can feel the ache in her chest. There are times when Jay meets the angel’s gaze just afterwards but looks away just as quickly. They both know, but they won’t talk about it. And that’s okay. 

But for Jay, she can see beyond the green. Beyond the freckles and blushing pensive lips, the curve of his jaw, the gently rolling hills of his chest and arms. She traces the majestic waves and ripples beneath his warm skin with only her eyes and her heart. They come to rest just past strong wrists and fall like weighted feathers upon Dean’s weathered hands. 

You see, that’s where the soul really reveals itself closest to visible flesh. Each scar and busted knuckle tell a story. The pattern of freckles and tan lines speak of years in the sun. The calluses of his palm and fingertips disclose a rough life, a tough job. They are toned with skill, accurate in all things. They can field strip a gun and put it back together in the blink of an eye, tie complicated knots with dexterity, bait a hook and cast a line without hesitation, and even mold and create custom parts for Baby as they fix her up.

And yet, the skin between those marks is soft, no longer as elastic as it once was, but still full of life and love. The very muscles that hold together the bone and sinew have the capacity to both take life, and give it. Jay has watched them rip apart monsters and gently caress and hold victims within the same minute. 

Such an extreme duality shouldn’t be so neatly wrapped up in one man, but it was. It was both Dean’s light and his curse. Jay shivered as she hesitated just a moment too long on the fantasy of those thick muscled, deadly, yet oh-so-gentle hands, imagining how they might tickle as they might glide over her smooth skin. Of course, Dean notices. 

“There’s no way you’re cold, Jay. It’s a hundred friggin degrees outside!”

Right. Jay had to remind herself that they were on a case. No distractions. “Yeah, I-I’m good. Just got a chill because, ya know, we’re next to human refrigerators.” She swallowed hard and clenched her teeth to help ground herself back to reality. 

It really was hotter than a witch’s tit out there and not much cooler inside the mortuary. Dean continued to read silently from some forms on the coroner’s clipboard before licking his thumb and index finger to turn the page. Heat washed over Jay, spreading like drunken honey from her scalp all the way to her toes. She tried to steady her breathing, remain in persona as a stoney FBI agent, but the hot red of her cheeks was giving her away. 

She tore her gaze away to inspect the body. Not that anything she made mental note of would stick at this point. Dean cleared his throat and pulled the clipboard closer to his face before setting his thumbnail between his teeth the way he always did when he was laser-focused on something. She only caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was the final bit to break her. 

With a huff, Jay exclaimed a little too loudly, “There’s nothing here for us, Dean. I’ll be in the car.” Her legs carried her much too quickly out the swinging doors and up the stairs. 

“Um, okay?” Dean grumbled to himself before setting the paperwork back in its place and following Jay. “What the hell got into her?” 

Jay was glad to leave Texas. Mid-July heat drained her, along with every plant and tree scorched under the unrelenting and searing white sun. The world around them was bleached and bathed in the almost-eerie too-bright light. Well, everything except what existed in the shadows of the Impala. The sparse countryside rolled away mile by mile as time ticked by with every song on Dean’s favorite cassette. 

The air conditioning just couldn’t keep up, so Dean rolled down the windows. Jay tied up her locks in frustration, leaving a messy excuse for a bun resting on top of her head. The leather seats did nothing to help as she sweat through her shorts until she was nearly sliding off the seat. 

“How much longer until Oklahoma?” She sighed. For the third time that hour.

Dean shot a glare in her direction before settling his attention back on the highway. The heat was getting to him too, and even with sunglasses on, spots were gathering in his vision and impairing him with every piercing flash of the sun off of the windshields of passing cars. “Jay, I swear if you ask me ‘are we there yet’ one more time, I’m going to friggin pull over.”

“Ugh, FINE.” Jay wished to be nearly anywhere but here. Resignation set in and she slumped in the seat and let her bare feet hang out the window, crossing her arms. 

Dean turned the music louder, trying to drown out his own misery rather than her. He began to belt out slightly off-key to “Dazed and Confused.”

Jay cracked a half smile but hid it from Dean. 

He rapped out the solos on the steering wheel, his hands keeping perfect time as they danced upon the taught leather. 

Maybe pulling over wouldn’t be a half-bad idea, Jay thought. 

She closed her eyes, allowing the steady rumble of the engine to echo through her as hot wind whipped through the cab. She cracked them open again just long enough to witness the stretch of tight skin over Dean’s knuckles, the way the washed out wilderness blurred past behind them and accentuated the tan he’d gained from driving. 

The image was burned into her mind. To help pass the time, Jay granted herself permission to linger on it, explore it. Despite the heat outside, a new, different heat grew steadily in her core, stirring somewhere deep between her heart and soul. 

Not too long after, the Impala slowed and turned into a run down gas station--the first one in an hour. As Dean filled up, Jay took the opportunity to find shelter in some air conditioning and hopefully an ice-cold drink. Inside the store was no better. In fact, it was worse. The air was still and thick with humidity from the cooler, which buzzed and whirred as if it were possessed. 

“Sorry, Miss. Cooler is out. Hot drinks only,” a disheveled and sweat-drenched employee slouched over the register. 

“Thanks… got any pie?” Jay decided that if they had to drink hot water, they may as well have some comfort food. 

“Whatever we got is over there.” The clerk motioned with his eyes, no strength to even lift a finger. 

Jay stalked back to the car empty handed and more pissed than ever. If the summer heat was something tangible, she could just strangle it. Kick it, punch it. Anything to fight it. 

Dean finished up just in time, careful not to touch the scorching black paint and chrome on the car. “What, you go pee and come out with nothing? I’m dyin’ here!”

Jay snapped. “NO DRINKS. NO PIE. NOTHING. K?!” 

Dean was taken aback by the outburst. It was then he noticed the sunken look and dark circles under her eyes and the red sheen over her face and neck. She was getting pale and wasn’t sweating anymore.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows knit as he drove slowly through the town, hoping for a decent motel to rest at for a while. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait but a few blocks before The Moonlight Motel came into view. 

Pay by the hour may not be the greatest, but at least it was cheap and would likely be empty this time of day. 

Jay was losing touch and the following events were a blur. The next thing she truly could grasp and remember was lying mostly clothed in a cold shower. Dean sat facing her atop the closed toilet seat, a worried face perched upon clasped hands. Still a bit out of it, Jay relaxed into the cool water as it slowly washed the fever down the drain. The world slipped away, replaced by a gentle, dark nothing.

When Jay stirred, the room was too dim to still be day and shadows were held at bay by only a small lamp on the far side of the dingy room. She couldn’t remember how she got there at first, but as she woke, things gradually came back to her. 

Dean had practically carried her to the room. He’d carefully set her in the bathtub and removed her belt, overshirt and boots. He’d turned on the cold water and at first, she’d protested, but slipped in and out of consciousness. He’d retrieved ice from the machine down the hall and poured it over her as he constantly monitored her vitals and temperature. 

He’d withdrawn her, a soaking wet dead weight, stripped away the sopping clothes while careful not to look where it would make her uncomfortable, and buttoned her up in the softest flannel he had. 

Jay glanced down at her right hand, as it felt stiff and sore. A needle was taped there, no longer hooked to the empty bag of saline, taped down and left in place just in case. Jay wiggled slightly when she realized that her other arm had gone quite numb beneath her and--Dean?

His soft snores disrupted as she shifted, equally mortified and elated to be nestled into the crook of his arm. Dean woke and rubbed his eyes, as if pretending he’d been awake the whole time. His voice was low and gravely from sleep. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He looked down at her, so small in his arms, furious with himself for not taking better care of her. 

“M-good,” Jay choked out, completely entranced by being so close to the hunter. Close enough for their breath to mix and his cologne to shroud her senses. Close enough to see the flecks of golds and blues and dark greens in the folds of his irises. Her breath caught and she shivered. Again. Jay mentally kicked herself for that tell. “Thank you… Sorry I was being a brat.”

“No. No, this is on me. You were sun-sick. I’m sorry. I should’ve--”

Jay put a finger to his parted lips with only the intention to stop Dean from blaming himself (like always,) but the touch sent electric pulses through her fingertips and set fire to every nerve in her body. They were impossibly soft and warm. 

Dean caught her hand tenderly in his before she could pull away and planted a slow kiss on her knuckles. He watched anxiously as her pupils dilated and her breathing became more shallow. Pulling their hands out of the way, Dean leaned forward just slightly and planted a firm, reassuring kiss to her forehead. 

Jay’s mind was a mess. This was more than familial. Were they crossing a line? Or maybe it just meant that Dean was comfortable with her, and concerned. But even as the thoughts swirled, her lips had a mind of their own. As Dean traced his nose down hers until their heads were pressed together, Jay angled upward to meet him. 

When their lips locked, there was no more question. Jay loved Dean, and he knew and he loved her back. It was soft and sweet, with their eyes shut tight, just exploring and tasting and sucking gently. 

The remainder of the trip back to the bunker was spent with Dean humming, a stupid smile plastered on his face, and Jay resting across the front seat, her head in his lap. Dean stroked her soft, brown hair adoringly. The night was much cooler and comfortably dark with only dim, scattered stars to blanket the hunters. 

~

Everything was different after the motel. The kiss. 

Almost six months had gone by and for the most part, they’d been wonderful. Jay spent more time in Dean’s room than her own, and the hunts had been good so far, like old times. 

Until this one. 

Jay, Sam, and Dean were doing a bit of recon at a local bar to dig up some answers, or at the very least, a lead. Jay had dressed to stun, as usual. (After all, men’s lips tended to be a bit more loose around a pretty girl.)

Dean was hovering. Everytime Jay got close to some useful information, Dean would scare off the burly locals with a death glare. 

Until this one. 

This man was built like a tank. He towered even over Sam by a few inches and dwarfed Jay in comparison. Sam eyed her uncomfortably from a few tables over, but he always got like that when someone was bigger than him. Dean didn’t adjust his tactics at all, and when the big guy had enough of Dean dancing around him and bumping his chair with an insincere, “sorry, man,” the guy stood up and puffed out his chest. Dean moved to both protect Jay and get in a prime fighting position, but Jay yanked him away by the collar of his jacket faster than he could complain. 

She didn’t stop until they were completely outside the bar, then shoved him into the soot-covered brick wall. Dean opened his mouth to spout something pigheaded, but stopped himself as he felt the chill of her glare more than the chill of the snow flurries swirling around them. 

“Would you just trust me to do my job? What is your problem?” 

“I do! I just--” Dean waved in a flustered motion, unable to find the words. All he knew was that when she got a little too... comfortable... with anyone, he saw red. 

Still, Jay seemed to understand. She reached up and held his face firmly between her palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact. 

“I’m yours. I know that you worry, what you fear. I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No one can ever take me from you, either, because I’ll haunt your ass and you know it.”

Dean’s bottom lips quivered just barely, and he quickly bit it back. “Don’t you even joke about that,” his voice broke. 

“De- I’m right here, okay?”

 He nodded and leaned into her until his face was buried in her neck. He squeezed his arms around her, never wanting to know what it would feel like to have to let go. 

A muffled “let’s go back to the motel” emanated from somewhere within Jay’s scarf and she nodded in response. 

Dean grasped her hand as they walked the short distance back to the rented room. Jay stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pointing over to the edge of the woods. A startled “Dean!” escaped her, and Dean dropped her hand and withdrew his gun, ready for a fight. His plumes of hot breath on the air slowed to nearly nothing as he steadied himself and visually searched the area. 

What had she seen?

Before he could ask, something hard, round and icey struck the back of his shoulder with decent force. He spun on his heels and lowered his weapon to find Jay wide-mouthed and laughing, another snowball forming in her hands. 

“Son of a bitch! You want to play dirty, huh?” Dean howled. He holstered the pistol and raced to close the distance between them. With a squeal and a grunt, the two ended up in a heap in the wet, mushy snow. 

Jay managed to end up on top of him and leaned in for a deep kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips as his tongue graced across hers. When at last they came up for air, Dean was moving his arms and legs haphazardly. 

“A slush-angel?” Jay giggled at the sorry creation. 

“What, my art not good enough for you?” Dean retorted while wearing a shit-eating grin. “And no, actually, it’s a Yeti.” 

The wet chill began to sink into their bones, so they hurried onward. Dean fiddled with the key card but the lock gave him fits. 

“C’mon, Dean! I’m freezing to death!” 

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hold your horses.”

At last, the door swung open and Jay rushed inside, leaving Dean to close and lock the door behind them. She’d already started stripping off the wet outer layers when Dean approached. With every step bringing him closer, his heartbeat rose and he wrestled out of his own layers. 

Jay moved to lift off her shirt, but Dean covered her hands with his, intertwining their fingers. He stood against her, and in one swift move, wrapped both of her wrists in a single firm grip behind her, and with the other, pressed an open palm against her belly. 

Jay gasped, her knees going weak with what she knew was coming next. Despite the weather, his touch was toasty. Coarse skin slid over her soft flesh, causing a friction that left Jay needing more. Heat flushed her cheeks and pooled deep in her stomach. Dean melted with every shuttered breath of hers as he stroked up and down beneath the fabric of her shirt, making sure to linger over the more sensitive areas as she twitched and bit down on her lip. 

Dean massaged her breasts with skilled fingers for a few moments, but a sensual twist of her nipple sent Jay reeling backwards, supported only by Dean’s other arm. With her head tilted back, Dean took the opportunity to kiss and suck and nip zig-zagged lines over the most delicate parts of her neck and along her collarbone. 

Jay squirmed and panted with lust-blown pupils and a cry just on the tip of her tongue. Dean’s grasp only steadied her against him more until he found himself grinding into her, faint moans already filling the air. The growing bulge in his pants drove Jay mad. She wanted to be covered by him, skin on skin, needed him inside her. 

“D-Dean please, please…” Jay whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of his hold once more to no avail. 

“Please, what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” Dean breathed against her ear, just above a whisper. He sucked and nibbled in the hollow behind it.

A shudder wracked Jay, but this time, she didn’t mind the tell. She had him. He was hers. But right then, she needed more and she knew he was holding back. “Unnghh, please… need you, now,” she managed.

“Okay, Baby,” Dean crashed his lips to hers and shifted until Jay was suspended in the air and straddling him as he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her playfully and they scrambled to see who could lose their remaining clothes the fastest.

In a fray of scattered clothing, Dean climbed on top of her, comfortably crushing Jay into the lumpy mattress. He let his full weight rest upon her. 

“Stop it,” she giggled as his scruff tickled her cheek. 

“Why don’t you make me?” Dean grinned between planting kisses everywhere he could reach. 

Before he could react, Jay had him rolled onto the floor. She straddled him and tried to concentrate despite his hard cock resting perfectly between her hot, dripping folds. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, blocking out everything but that moment and the sensations it was riddled with. Dean’s eyes closed and mouth opened like a fish out of water. His breaths were shallow and shaky. Jay fought the urge to lift her hips just so, knowing that if she did, and she came back down upon him, his throbbing dick would line up just perfectly… and they’d end up on the floor for the remainder of their romp. 

She rose to her feet, grasping his hand and pulling him up with her. Dean’s eyes were full of question, longing. His cheeks were flushed and hot to the touch. He was melting at every touch and could do nothing about it but wait for her. 

Jay led him over to the chair and pushed him into it. He nearly tripped on his way down. That stupid smile she loved so much spread across his face again as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her onto him. She let out a yelp as the broad head of his large cock spread her entrance, dripping with precum, and buried itself deep inside until her walls stretched almost uncomfortably. The shock of his size was something she’d never get used to. Each time was like the first, the same butterflies swarming in her stomach, the same jolts of pure lust burning through her veins.

Dean gasped and held her close to him, trembling hands roaming her back and squeezing her ass. Jay carded her hands through his hair and pulled just slightly at the nape of his neck as he whined in approval. Those laments made her head swim and her limbs weak. Drunk on Dean, she adjusted her position until he was sunk deep into the spot that was just right, then began to move back and forth, slow and steady. Dean’s breaths stuttered and his head fell back, leaving his neck open for Jay to take into her mouth. 

“Fuck--Baby you feel s-so good,” he stammered between increasing moans and grunts. She could see in his eyes that he was losing control.

Jay cried out as he began to fight her movements with his own, pounding up in all the right spots. She arched her back as the coil wound tighter… higher… tighter… higher... until she shattered in his arms, his name and curses spilling from her gaping mouth. 

He held her through it and chased his own orgasm, sucking a mark onto her chest before he spilled into her. Everyone would know she was his, and only his. Her walls clenched in waves and he pulsed within them, his delicious sounds filling her ears as she came down. 

Jay crashed her lips into his, and he returned with fervor until they were both completely breathless. Wrapped there in Dean’s arms, Jay was home. 

No, nothing was ever the same after that first kiss. And that was okay. It was amazing.

.

.

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @taste-of-dean @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie @thinkinghardhardlythinking

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

@waywardbaby* the smut was heavily inspired by The Scene. Tagged as promised lol

Tag List now open!

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #hands that heal #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x ofc #dean x jay #fluff #smut #supernatural

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (81) || atz

“Let us off the ship, or she dies.”

The gun crew freezes from where they’d been about to move forward with their swords lifted. Iron digs into your skin hard enough for you to feel a bruise forming at your temple, and you wonder if it’s broken skin. He has a musket to your head.

“One squeeze of the trigger and her pretty head will be in pieces. I don’t think you want that to happen.” The man holding you says, yanking you against his chest roughly by the neck. He’s strong, far too strong for you to physically overpower, and for a second, you’re terrified for your life.

“Chin Hae!” The crewmate who’d talked to you earlier tries to take a step forward, but the man taps the musket against your head and he stops dead in his tracks, teeth gritted. You can see the fear in his eyes, clashing in conflict with the want to save you and have to bite back tears.

“Bring your captain here, and tell him to cease the fighting. If another of my men falls, you’ll pay for it with her life.” The enemy pirate demands, voice as cold as the arctic seas. You know in that instant he would have no qualms at all putting a bullet through your head. The man hesitates, and the pirate points his musket at your other hand instead. “I might not kill her yet, but she has three limbs more I can take off before I end her suffering. I think you’ll find that I’m not a man of much patience.”

His eyes send you a clear message, please, hold out until I get captain here, and dashes off into the midst of the fighting. Swallowing, you mutter out lowly. “Do you really believe that the Royal Navy will let you go if you turn me in? They might simply-”

“Don’t bother reasoning with me, little lady.” The musket edges its way up to under your throat, and you shiver as the metal brushes the skin there. You can taste gunpowder in the back of your throat. “I’m afraid you’ll find it harder to change my mind than stop me from blowing your brains out.”

“Everyone, cease your fighting.”

Your captain steps out through the midst of all the fighting, and like the eye of a hurricane, both sides lower their weapons, seemingly unable to refuse the sheer command that rolls off Kim Hongjoong. His one green eye burns silently, fixing on you before it lands on the man holding you captive. The crewmate trails behind him. “Speak.”

“I’m the captain of the Great White, and I think that I’ve made my terms perfectly clear.” The pirate states calmly, unflinching as he meets your captain’s vicious gaze. Hongjoong looks like he’s seconds from drawing his own cutlass and cutting down the man in fury. “Let us stop fighting, and I will not kill this woman right now. It will save both sides many lives.”

“You’re intending on handing her over to the Royal Navy.” Hongjoong hisses out through a snarl. “You dare to ask me to accept such a thing?”

“If you don’t, we’ll continue fighting, and even more of your men will lose their lives in the battle.” The pirate replies, bringing his musket back to your head again. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Wooyoung scaling the mainmast with a musket slung over his back. “Are you saying that the life of one woman is worth more than that of the rest of your crew?”

Hongjoong stills for a moment, a moment of raw uncertainty flashing in his eye as it meets yours. Seeing his moment of vulnerability, the pirate presses on, voice more harsh. “Can you really call yourself a captain if you’re playing favorites that way? Shame on you.” The crew of the Treasure look like they’re about to surge into an uproar, but Hongjoong raises his hand, and they fall silent at once. “I once used to respect you as a captain who would do anything to protect his crew and ship, Pirate King,” the man’s voice darkens. “But it seems as if you’ve grown soft in the time that you vanished from the Royal Navy’s sights.”

When you look back at your captain face, it’s pale, as if it’s been drained of blood. “The matters of my crew aren’t your concerns in the least.” His voice has a hard edge to it.

The pirate captain shrugs, voice unwavering. “I don’t really give two damns about your crew. But I hope you make up your mind fast.” His eyes darken, and you can feel a chill slipping down your spine. “I can feel my finger slipping, and then we’ll all be dead when the Royal Navy catches up with us.”

Hongjoong bites his lower lip sharply. To your horror, he looks like he’s really struggling, torn between his feelings for you and his duty as the captain to his crew.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so uncertain, so unsure of his decision. There’s too much hinging on his choice, and while you know that choosing to send you off with them would be the best choice for your crew, you cannot help but tremble at the thought of what the Royal Navy will do once they get their hands on you.

The image of the man you’d met in the dark alleyways of Tortuga only scares you further. You don’t know his intentions yet, but from the sheer intensity of his obsession with you, you know that you never want to stand in his presence again.

“Apprentice!”

Forcing his way to the front of the crowd, you spot your master, face twisted with horror, hands still clutching his medical satchel and stained with blood. In realisation, you look down at your own hands to find them caked with drying blood as well, before it hits you - you were supposed to be saving someone.

“Master, there’s a man whose leg I had to amputate, please treat him!” You shout across the deck, and San’s eyes widen. “He might bleed out soon!”

San’s face looks painfully conflicted, torn between the need to stay with you and do his job as a healer on board. You shout again, to slap his out of his daze. “Master! You’re the only other one who can save him! Go!”

Your master’s look almost shiny with tears, before he turns around and dashes to the casualty you had been with, putting his hands over the gaping wound on the man’s body as he looks over it. And you see the sinking expression on his face, and know what it means: he alone will not be enough to save him.

But your master still puts his hands over the man’s leg, eyes fluttering shut. He’s still going to try it anyway, and you’re not going to be there to stop him.

You can’t let that happen to San.

“Let me go! I need to treat someone!” You start struggling in his grasp. You remember the way the man’s life pulse had been so weak and thready, like it had been about to snap at any moment. “He’ll die without me!”

“Not my crew, not my concern.” The pirate replies, voice measured and cold. “As a captain, you watch out for your men. I don’t have the mercy to spare for another’s.”

He makes sense, you know in the back of your mind, as you continue to thrash about. All your efforts to free yourself prove futile, however, as the captain sighs upon the sight of this. “Your captain can’t make a decision, but we’re running out of time.”

Suddenly, all you see is the arm holding the musket shifting, the silver of the firearm pointing somewhere else other than you. Although relief fills you for a second, it is immediately replaced by deathly cold dread when you see what he’s lining up the gun with.

“No-” You gasp, but the second the sound pulls itself from your throat, there’s the sound of a musket shot, far too loud in your ears.

The man’s body jerks as the musket shot enters him, and you feel your scream more in your throat than you hear it, ears ringing painfully loud. Hongjoong draws his cutlass, lips pulled back in a furious snarl. “What do you think you’re-”

San kneels next to the man, frozen in shock. There’s blood splattered across his cheek, his mouth. His pupils are trembling.

He looks like he’s going to be sick.

“Let us go, or her head is going to be next.” The pirate captain announces. There isn’t a single waver in his voice. “I’ll have you make your choice right now.”

The members of the gun crew that had been so willing to protect you earlier on rush to their friend, crying out his name in voices cracking in grief. You feel like you’re frozen in time, watching the world through a lens.

Someone is screaming incoherently, limbs boneless and mind empty. Someone is desperate to do something, blood staining their hands. But all that isn’t happening to just someone. That someone is you.

You had been doing everything you could to save that life of your crewmate. And this man had just snuffed it out like an insignificant candle with a single breath.

The most primal emotion burst out in you: raw, unparalleled fury.

You see red.

You grab the captain holding you with a single hand, and throw.

It’s almost effortless, the action, and the man goes flying bodily across the deck to slam into the hardwood of the mainmast. There are screams of terror coming from somewhere, disembodied and drifting about in the air, but you don’t register them. All you see is the man who had pulled that trigger.

You step towards him, barely keeping your body together. You’re so furious that you feel like you might explode if you don’t remove that man from the surface of this earth.

Go on, do it. You know you have the strength to do it.

“Protect Captain!” The enemy crew rush to defend their captain against you, but their near puny effort is so ridiculous to you that you can’t help but laugh. You surge forward like a storm wave, unstoppable, and simply push them out of the way with your bare hands.

Nothing can stand in your way.

You approach the captain, keeled over on the ground. There’s blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, but his eyes burn with the same fury that matches yours. He struggles to pull himself to his feet. “What have you done to my crew-”

It was all their fault. They deserve what they’re getting.

You punch him in the face, and he goes hurtling back once more, body crashing to the ground. Blood splatters on the ground in front of you.

“You dare?” Your voice is something you don’t recognise, chillingly cold, immeasurable fury beneath the surface like the depths of an ocean. Your remaining hand draws back for another punch, and this time, you’re going to end this man for good. “You insignificant speck, dare to cross me? You, a mere mortal?”

The captain’s face is half covered in blood, although whether it’s from your hands or the gash across his forehead, you don’t know. It could be either, or both. His eyes are wide with terror as he looks up at you, and he trembles before you, like he should.

“Chin Hae, stop!”

All of a sudden, a pair of warm, trembling hands are holding your face, before a pair of green eyes meet yours. You can’t seem to remember who it is. Who is it that looks at you with such a gentle, pained gaze?

“Chin Hae, snap out of it!” The voice is shaking now, spilling over with tears. The enemy captain is quivering visibly, like a leaf in the wind.

“M...monster!”

The word echoes emptily in your mind.

Monster.

"Chin Hae, please, this isn’t you!” The voice begs again, dry sobs and a desperate cry in the white noise filling your mind. Chin Hae? Who is that? “All of us, we’re alright, San is healing the man right now, he said the bullet didn’t hit any vitals. So please stop this, Chin Hae, I’m begging you!”

You answer to no one.

His hand wraps around yours, and you feel your arm suddenly going limp. What were you doing? What’s going on? His hand is warm. Yours feel as cold as the darkest depths of the ocean.

“Wooyoung.” Your mouth forms the word, as if on instinct. His hands are shaking.

“Chin Hae.” He repeats your name breathlessly, stroking a thumb over your knuckles. He lifts your hand tentatively, as if afraid you might fly apart in his hold, and places it in his pocket.

The familiarity of it is enough for you to look up into those green eyes again.

“Wooyoung.” You can’t seem to form words, mind a complete blank. “What... what happened...”

Something warm spills from your mouth, falls to the deck. Wooyoung’s face twists in horror, as if in slow motion, lips parting to scream your name.

You look down at the deck, blinking. What is it that?

Blood, crimson and merlot, splatters across the wood. Did all that come from you?

Ahh, Seonghwa is going to have a hard time cleaning all that up.

That’s the last thing you think before your vision turns black.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

[lyricalimerence]

You Never Asked - JJ Maybank

summary: in which jj was the only person who knew but then you two drift because of kie invading the group, effectively leaving you out of the loop, until your grandfather dies. you pick yourself up, and jj makes a stupid comment without knowing.

word count: 1341

warnings: cancer mentions, death mentions, a joke about cancer, coarse language, angst i suppose. this is very badly written, i'm sorry lol

a/n: so the topic of this is very real to me, something i've been mulling over for like a week. i was replaying the end of this toxic friendship i had. i realized the first person i told about my grandfather's diagnosis didn't know he was gone and it kind of stung a little bit. this is a little exaggerated for "entertainment" purposes but i just,,, this is more of my own mental punching bag in a way. somewhere to kind of decompress my emotions towards my delayed emotions. i know it's a mess. it's kinda incoherent and very unedited and rushed i'm just gonna be honest 😌

flashbacks look like this

it almost ached, the pangs in your heart and the fatigue plaguing your mind. your body feels weighed down, you could barely move without needing to take a break. the sky seems dimmer even without your sunglasses, the ocean seems rougher without a clear cause for the current you created in your mind. you twiddle your thumbs, watching as the pad of your right thumb traced over the jagged, bitten-down edge of your left thumbnail.

you were waiting. it seemed like that was all you were doing those days. waiting for jj to realize you were still there, waiting for the pogues to realize kiara couldn't replace you, waiting for your grandpa to get better, waiting for the day you found out he was getting worse, even though you knew he was already gone. he had been for months now. all you could was wait, and it was driving you crazy. your mind running circles are itself, barely recognizing what you used to, only focusing on the new, obstructive thoughts.

you remembered it so clearly. that day on the hammocks.

you had pulled jj out to your backyard where a hammock was held up by two trees overlooking the ocean. your house was always the spot until you were kicked to the curb. jj’s rough, calloused hand was placed in yours as you two sat in the hammock, your ankles pressed together, fighting for who's got to cross over the other’s instead of under.

it had been a miracle you had gotten him away. kiara has recently joined the group of pogues. you felt replaced, like you weren't good enough anymore. not to mention, you had been carrying a burden on your chest for weeks. was kiara carrera so captivating and perfect that no one noticed your eating patterns stuttered, your talkativeness dwindled, and your under eyes became more gaunt and purple stained each day?

you still had sarah and the kooks—in a way. they were your friend group, not your best friend. not the ones you needed. “what’s up, y/n? y’know, kie’s dad is getting us beer in a sec, so can this be quick?”

of course kie had some better alternative that you. you were technically a kook, but kie’s family was better off, you were pretty, but she was prettier, you played the ukelele and would sing tunes for the guys on your dock at night, but kie was better at it. you were never enough anymore. “right, um,” you breath quickened, not bothering to make eye contact with jj, because you knew he’d be waving or winking at kie who was watching from inside your house. your house that wasn’t as big or kempt as hers. “my grandpa is sick.”

jj’s head turned, you could see in your periphery as you kept your eyes trained ahead of you, tracing the edge of the horizon. “everyone gets sick, y/n, why're you making such a big deal—”

“cancer. he’s sick with cancer.” you all but spat, your grandfather was always so good to jj. whenever he would visit, jj would run over, eager to spend time with the benevolent man. why was he acting like such a dick? he must've known he was acting like an asshole because his face drained of color. or maybe you had captured his attention with someone he cared about, since, clearly, that person wasn't you. “esophageal cancer, in his throat, so he can't eat. they can't do surgery to remove the tumor because it's in line with his heart.”

the blond boy next to you took a few seconds, focusing on inhaling and exhaling, watching his chest rise and fall to just make sure it still was. you knew the feeling, it has been all too real for you the past week. how could you notice the slightest change in his demeanor, but he hadn't recognized your ongoing agony?

“your grandpa will tough it out, he always does. he's a strong guy.” you glanced at him, moving your eyes but not your head. you weren't sure if you'd be able to take in his complete expression without breaking down. you muttered something under your breath, only for him to respond. “stage what?”

“four. stage four. he’ll be gone by next summer.”

and he was. your grandfather, light of your life with your absentee parents died in april. april first to be exact. at 12:01 in the morning. you were in the room with him, sarah and rafe sat outside the room waiting for you to exit. they heard your scream rip through the thin hospital walls. it had to have been an april fools joke, right?

but it wasn't, and the one person you needed to hug at that moment, hadn't spoken to you since september. your jj has completely replaced you with kiara. you tried to hate her, place the blame on someone besides yourself, but she was just perfect. who could deny her of whatever she wanted?

maybe you were just selfish. you brought up your grandfather as a way to try to bring jj back to you, evoke some remnants of emotion he had in regards to your wellbeing. you didn't care if those feelings matched the intensity or emotion yours were, as long as something was there, but that didn't happen. and that was almost as painful.

it was july, almost an exact year since your cancerous confession. you had almost forgotten about jj. sometimes you’d see him around and he’d act like things between you two were normal—it pissed you off more than anything. but it hadn't occurred to you that jj had gone on living his life, thinking that his favorite adult in the world was alive. an uncomfortable fallacy you held with you for months.

sarah, rafe, topper, and kelce had managed to get you to go to the boneyard for a kegger, convincing you it would be good. it would finally get you back into routine. so you did. you messed with your makeup in the mirror until your lips were darkened with red, your eyelids shimmered with pink, and your skin was smoothed through the magic of concealer. sarah took a curling iron to your hair, looping strands around the wand until your soft locks of hair bounced around your shoulders in beachy waves. you were wearing a sundress—you couldn tell your heart still felt like it was being punched with each sharp intake of breath and every step you take.

until you got there, and sarah had her elbow interlocked with yours as you walked up to the keg, the guys in front of you. having no intention to actually drink, you moved to step around jj who was manning the keg at the time. “c’mon, y/n, not beer for you?”

you had to will yourself to look him in the eyes, but once you did you realized his emotions were pure. he was happy. he didn't need you, he was happy without you. blissful ignorance is a bitch. “no thanks.”

something clicked at your harsh tone, “has the whole family lost their shotgunning touch? sore throat?”

“what the fuck, man?” kelce was the first to move, ready to punch the pogue, topper and rafe close behind.

jj turned, ready to snap at you to call off your dogs, but your eyes had glossed over, and you lip was starting to bleed from how hard you had bitten down, trying to halt it from quivering. “y/n, what’s going on?”

“he died, asshole.” sarah muttered, pulling you passed the advent of the fight about to break out. before you two could completely get away, jj grabbed your other elbow.

“when?”

your body went rigid, it had been even longer since he had touched you. at all. “april.”

“why didn't you tell me?” his eyes softened, the edges drooping as his smile lines faded away. your heart twisted, he thought he deserved to know.

you knew it was a different reason, but he didn't deserve to know. “you never asked.”

tags - click here if you'd like to be added

@insanitysparkles @anonymous0writer @prejudic3 @ilovejjmaybank @apoguecalledjj @outerbanksbro @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @calumbroutledge @rudys-pankow @queenofthebees003 @bxllasanosa @write-from-the-heart @popcsheyward @kaitieskidmore1 @abigailpankow @thelocalpogue @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @lovingxjj @beatement-l @jayjaymaebank @drew-starkey @mahleeyuh

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow #jj #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #outer banks fanfiction #angst #fanfiction

[saharamae21]

Vapor (Part 2)

Hey guys! Here is part two! I still don’t fully know how I feel about this, but please let me know if you like it. This chapter is a little dark... I’ve beem watching a lot of Criminal Minds. Please let me know if you want more. Also I tagged everyone who commented last chapter and everyone I tagged last chapter. Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

I’ll continue writing if you guys like the direction it’s going in... 

Warnings: Mentions of violence and kidnapping

Get Added To The Tag List!

__________________________________________

I sat on the beach with Kie, watching Topper and Sarah walking together. I didn’t want to watch them together. I didn’t want to look at them. I focused my eyes on Kie as she talked and tried to ignore Topper at all. She was going on about preserving the beach and what we can do to help. It’s not that I wasn’t into the whole preservation idea, but I’ve heard her talk about it a million times, so it wasn’t my favorite topic.

Just as I was about to change the subject, there was yelling. I turned to see JJ and Topper fighting over what looked like a drink. I watched as Topper was protecting Sarah from what looked like no threat and got up to help defuse the situation. I was too late though. Topper threw the drink all over JJ, which most certainly sparked a reaction. JJ was yelling as John B held him back. I grabbed onto Topper to try to tell him that it wasn’t worth fighting over. He never really listened to me though. He yelled something back and John turned and shoved him in response. Topper slammed into me, knocking me down into the sand. He didn’t even check if I was okay. He just walked up to JB and threw the first punch. I listened to Top say such horrible things as he kicked John through the water. The fight escalated and it got to the point where I was screaming at Topper to stop. He had John’s head under water and it was bad.

“Top! Stop it! You’re gonna kill him!” I was screaming my lungs out. I told Sarah to do something. I knew if anyone could stop him, it was her and not me. Kie was yelling as well and I was starting to really think Topper was going to kill him.

There was nothing for me to do. There was nothing anyone could do. Sarah was screaming at Topper and he wouldn’t listen. Someone had to do something. I watched as JJ confidently walked up to Topper and held something to his head. We all knew what it was. Everyone was screaming and moving back, but I was frozen. I could hear the yelling from my friends and I could see the events in front of me, but more traumatic memories filled my head. JJ let Topper go as he yelled for everyone to get off their side of the island. Then two warning shots were fired into the sky. While everyone else ran, I dropped. My hands covered my ears as I went into the position they teach you in school for weather drills. Memories of gunshots and blood swirled around me. Memories that I hadn’t thought about in years. I felt a hand on my back as the ringing subsided. My breath was a gasping pant as my anxiety attack consumed my body. I looked up and JJ was kneeling in front of me. I motioned to my mouth and he yelled at Pope to grab the inhaler in his bag. I shook my head no though.

“Joint,” I said, trying to calm myself down. I fumbled in my pockets, searching for anything I could breathe into my system. I pulled out my pen and took a hit. As soon as the vapor filled my lungs, I relaxed a little bit. “I’m sorry Addie,” JJ said. He was the only one who knew I hated guns. He was the only one who knew the trauma I went through as a kid. To this day, he still blames himself for it too. My hands were still shaking as he grabbed the inhaler from Pope. “C’mon, puff up.”

He placed the small red tool in my hand. On it were some stickers from school that I had gotten before I went to the Kook Academy. It was the same inhaler I had him carry around for me when we were kids. He had kept it and carried it around all these years. I took two puffs of medication and stared at him. Why was he so confusing?

I took another hit from my pen before sliding it back into my pocket. I forced myself to my feet, but my legs wobbled a bit. JJ stared at me.

“I’m fine,” I said. “That was years ago, JJ. I should go.”

“Adelaide w-” he said. I had turned around and started walking away though. I needed to get out of there. Between the overwhelming memories and feelings of confusion and jealousy, I was emotionally drained. I needed to get home and into bed.

The shower felt good against my skin, but the clean bed sheets felt better. I curled up in bed and tried to shut my mind off. I watched the moonlight dance around my room, but it was a little soothing to me. Ever since I was 8, I’ve been scared of the dark. It was after that accident that my fears ran wild. I tried not to think about it as I closed my eyes and drifted off.

Every nightmare was the same. It was bits and pieces of the incident, but never the whole thing. I knew what had gone on, but over the years the memories faded. They only presented themselves to me in dreams. They made me watch them over and over.

The first part is always me looking at a leash with no pets. No dog, but he insisted there was. I glanced back at JJ. He was so little, but he didn’t want to leave the playground. White Chapel had the best playgrounds and he never wanted to waste a minute there when my mom and I would bring him along. My mom had run into the store across the street when he approached. He couldn’t find his dog.

I followed him as he walked around the park. He told me he needed to grab a toy from his car. He said maybe his dog would come back for his favorite toy. I was eight. I didn’t know not to follow him. I screamed as he grabbed me and put me into the trunk of his station wagon. I screamed so loud for JJ. The door shut and the trunk smelled so bad. It was so bad that I threw up. I cried. I remember kicking and trying to get out.

After that was a bit of a blur. I remember being in a house and asking for JJ. I wanted my mom too. I thought I would never forget that man’s face, but now it was all a blur. I remember the house though. It was clean and meticulous. He got mad when I left fingerprints. He tried me to the chair and listened to me cry.

It was dark before the police sirens surrounded us. I felt the man pull me into the garage and told me not to be scared. He knelt in front of me as I asked him for JJ. I told him I wanted to go home now. I felt a cold metal object press against the side of my face. He stared at me as the garage door opened. He told me not to be scared and then a gun went off. My eyes had been squeezed shut, but then there was a commotion. I opened my eyes and saw the man in front of me lying on the ground. A pool of blood spread across the floor, staining my shoes. I let out a scream as an officer picked me up. He told me not to look. He took off my shoes and set me down on the road outside the house. I cried and begged for JJ.

Right on cue, I heard him. I heard him screaming at an officer that he needed to be let in. Then my eyes landed on him. I cried and yelled at him. I watched as he kicked an officer and took off running. He ran straight into me and held me tightly against him. I cried into his chest.

“I’ll never let you leave my sight,” he said. “I’ll always protect you.”

I woke up with the image of my dead abductor fresh in my mind. I thought about how I found out the smell in the trunk was another kid. I thought about the body they found. The dead body I had laid next two while he drove me to another location. I thought about how if they were even a minute later, I would’ve just been another dead body in the trunk of his car. I gasped for air as I sat up and wiped the sweat off my face. I needed fresh air and open space and I needed it now. I climbed out onto my roof and sat there. It’s crazy that this still haunts me eight years later. I thought it would go away by now. I glanced over at Topper’s house and wondered if someone like Topper could ever fill the hole JJ left when we stopped talking. JJ and I had been through it all together. I pulled out my phone and looked at JJ’s number in it. The cell towers were down from the hurricane, but I don’t think I would’ve called him even if I could. We just weren’t close anymore...

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Tag List : @jjmaybangme @thebendslikebendover @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @jjtheangel @jiaraendgame @obxmxybxnk @waywardbarbie @talksoprettyjjx @obbx-tings @agirlwholovescoffee @thoughtsofthestars @outerbankslut @potterheadhollander @baby-pogue @lindzaylove @obxlife @queenofthebees003 @rockyyc77 @beth-winchester21

#outer banks jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj imagine #jj #jj maybank fanfic #outer banks imagine #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx jj #obx netflix #rudy obx #rudy pankow #rudeth #kie obx #obx #kie outer banks #kiara #kiara carrera #obx topper #topper #topper thornton #outer banks topper #sarah obx #sarah cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #pope obx #pope

[pixie-mask]

So @aliahaig and I watched White Snake two days ago. I’ve been wanting to watch this movie so badly and honestly it wasn’t as good as I had hoped. It was just ok really. Unquestionably be the animation, camera shots, and visuals are amazing. Disgusting minions aside the Precious Jade and it’s owner are amazing.

The story pacing is off? When it comes to animated to movie I give them a pass on romance pacing, but White Snake is not one I give it too. The romance between Xuan and Blanca is sweet in theory, but it just doesn’t feel romantic. I don’t care about them as a couple. Which makes that off screen sex scene even more sudden and unearned. 

There are also a lack of use of certain characters and some bad and disappointing designs later in the movie. One the lack of character use is  Chang Pang. He’s introduced in a way that make it seem like he’ll be a decent threat, but he’s killed off quickly and its really disappointing. Even if he died, I still expected more of a fight instead of being one-shot killed.

The Daoist is such a fun character in his personality and magic and honestly he was my favorite part of the movie. The display of his powers where amazing, his fight scenes were the best, but he’s in with flare and out rather boringly. Given all that happens I really wish that he was the or least one of the final “bosses” of the movie.

Speaking of which the Dark General was a disappointing character. He’s boring upon full introduction, but more than everything his design is absolutely awful. He is so distractingly cartoony compared to every single character. It was hard to tell if he was meant to be super old or mixed with snakes that he was draining. His appearance is so distracting however and it makes all his actions (although not impressive honestly) easy to ignore. Seriously his design is awful.

Finishing up with designs is the Snake Master. Her human design is fine, I have no real issue with it. My problem comes from her snake form. It’s hinted at when see snake demon home/base, but she remains human for most of the movie. When she does turn into her snake form it’s pretty disappointing. I like the two headed thing enough, but the design is both interestingly and disappointingly bulky and big. 

However a major, seriously huge problem is the treatment of Dudou. OMG! Did the people who lead this movie hate dogs. There’s a little problem for him at the beginning but his treatment gets so much worse later in the movie. Dudou is unpleasantly kicked, punched, thrown and has his tail removed over the course of the movie. It’s always takes from the movie and makes the movie less enjoyable with every moment. It takes from the movie so much and just leaves a bad taste. 

I wish this movie was better and didn’t have the character abuse in it. I still plan to watch White Snake 2 and I hope it’s better, but also that we don’t have any character suffer the abuse that Dudou did in White Snake.

#White Snake

[touhou-gensoudairantou]

Maria Unleashes her Strength!

Alhough she was one of four girls kidnapped by the Dark Priest Shaft for a ritual to resurrect the nefarious Dracula, Maria Reneard proves to be a valuable ally in Richter’s crusade to save her friends and his girlfriend Annette once rescued. A girl from another family of Vampire Hunters distantly related to the Belmont clan, Maria has a natural affinity with the abilities of animals and acrobatic movements. She may be frailer than Richter, but her speed, striking power, and maneuverability will prove to be the perfect way to style on opponents as either a small anime girl in a pink dress or a confident young vampire hunting woman. Your call, really, but underestimating her either way will cost you dearly. (Requested by @spooner-the-trinity​)

Of course, Maria Renard was only playable in a few games, but I happen to love all those games, and the programmers were gracious enough to give her plenty of techniques and abilities to work with. Her techniques are derived from her original appearance in Rondo of Blood for the PC Engine, the Sega Saturn version of Symphony of the Night, and the PSP Dracula X Chronicles’ remakes of both games.  Eh? “Judgment”? The hell are you talking about? H-hey, are you trying to make a dumbass outta me!? You bastard, there ain’t no such thing as a Nintendo Wii fighting game released on November 18th, 2008 based on the Castlevania series that had mostly controversial character designs by the artist of Death Note with particularly infamous examples including Buff Light Yagami. And there is c-e-r-t-a-I-n-l-y no incarnation of Maria Renard based on my least favorite character from that series that had all the good of Maria chucked thrown out of the window for this bastardization who obsesses over the figures of the other female characters, making me feel like I just gave up my triple-shot Holy Water for a Dagger that I will then proceed to hack my own head off with and throw at Konami with my post-mortem spasms. And even if there was such a game as this “Castlevania Judgment”, the only good character in it would be Aeon, who has always existed since always and till forever independent of this hypothetical game, thank you very much.

Hrmm-hrmm... anyways...

Jab: Maria sends forth a Dove or Owl that travels a fair distance. Pressing the button mid-flight will have Maria kick in front of her. There’s a 50/50 chance of either bird spawning, but there’s a minuscule difference in damage and speed between them.

Dash-Attack: Maria performs a dashing Drop Kick that can strike short-hopping opponents out of the air if well timed.

F-Tilt: Maria sets loose one of her Cats. It’ll run until it trips up an opponent by clawing their ankles, is knocked away by an attack or it disappears at the edge of the stage.

D-Tilt: Maria encases herself in a rock shell that damages opponents as it is form, which then has a Turtle land on top of it. In this state that lasts for a couple seconds, Maria is resistant to damage, but will be unable to move.

U-Tilt: Maria sends up two Cardinals at a... let’s say, 50-degree angle. They loop back to her after reaching about double her height.

N-Air: Maria does a rolling attack mid-air. Weak and has a small window of damage on its own, but if it hits an opponent, Maria will launch an Energy Ball that hits for big damage.

F-Air: Maria calls forth a Dragon, and holds onto its back as it glides into opponents with its immense weight. It’s slow, but can be quite powerful at the right time.

B-Air: Maria kicks behind her to knock away fighters getting too close.

D-Air: Maria rockets down from the sky in a Jump Kick, spiking opponents.

Side Smash: Maria uses the Sega Saturn version of her Guardian Knuckle attack, a magically charged punch.

Up Smash: Maria gains two flaming wings out of her back that resemble those of the Vermillion Bird Suzaku.

Down Smash: Maria calls upon the Black Tortoise Genbu as it spins around Gamera-style to attack enemies in front of and behind her in a circle.

Neutral B: One Maria's standard attacks in the Sega Saturn version of Symphony of the Night is an Energy Ball which can be charged for up to four levels. This is a very standard Smash Bros. Special, with a whole 4 levels of charge.

Side B: Maria rides the White Tiger Byakko for a short distance, running over enemies as it claws those caught in its path. Dismounting Byakko by jumping with give her a lot of height as it lets out a breath of fire, but be careful! If Maria is knocked off from above, Byakko will just disappear!

Up B: Maria is carried in the talons of the Vermillion Sparrow Suzaku as it rains down fire on opponents below. It may be slower than her standard jumps, but the protection Maria has in its grasp can be very much worth the trade-off.

Down B: Maria calls upon the Azure Dragon Seiryu, who surrounds her in a ring as it chases its own tail to defend her. Tilting the stick while it’s being summoned can have the dragon move to circle in a fixed location either next to or above Maria.

Shield: Maria uses the shell of the Black Tortoise Genbu as a shield that’s... surprisingly quite sturdy against many forms of damage. A perfect shield can outright nullify plenty of low-to-mid power Smash attacks. You can also Dodge using a famous Symphony of the Night-style backdash or a forward roll.

Grab/Pummel: Maria summons a Dragon to grapple the opponent in a bear hug. By pressing the button, the dragon squeezes them.

Back Throw: The Dragon spins around and throws the opponent far behind Maria.

Forward Throw: Genbu appears as the dragon tosses the opponent to the side, whirling the opponent before sending them flying.

Down Throw: The Dragon leans forward and crashes on top of the opponent’s back, causing heavy damage.

Up Throw: The Dragon rises up with the opponent in tow, before slamming them down into the ground, sending them ricocheting back upwards.

Bomb: Maria summons a shadow-like vision of herself that pummels the enemy for her. This Guardian Knuckle is invincible and has incredible attacking speed on top of excellent damage, but its range is quite middling. This is the Rondo of Blood and Dracula X Chronicles Symphony of the Night version of the Guardian Knuckle attack, but it also takes on a minor health drain effect like in her appearance in Portrait of Ruin.

Final Smash: Maria summons all four Holy Beasts at once to gain a state of invincibility and highly enhanced stats for a 10 second duration. After this duration, the beasts charge forward in front of her as they strike opponents with their powerful attacks.

Taunts:

-Up Taunt: Maria holds up a Key and seems to charge up an Item Crash, but pulls it back down, looking perplexed.

-Side Taunt: Maria holds out an egg as a nest’s worth of birds hatch from it and fly away. If they hit an opponent, they will receive 0.1% of damage with minimal knockback.

-Down Taunt: Maria hums a short ditty (a few notes from Bloody Tears, Opus 13 from Rondo of Blood, or The Tragic Prince from Symphony of The Night) as a series of multi-colored music notes appear.

Victory Screen:

Rondo of Blood Maria:

-Maria catches a falling Richter doll, gaining a 1-Up as she holds her Guardian Knuckle Doll in her other arm.

-Maria frolicks about the area and smiles at the camera as her animal friends gather around her.

-Maria celebrates as she sits down on a Magic Jewel, feasting on a Parfait as her Cat watches on.

Symphony of the Night Maria:

-Maria relaxes in front of a Save Polyhedron that’s just... there.

-Maria tries on the Holy Glasses, before removing them with a smile. Ghostly projections of the Four Sacred Beasts are seen around her as the glasses are removed.

-Maria slumps down in a chair, and is given a Heart Vessel that soon disppears as the “Life Up” text appears.

Alt Costumes:

You are free to choose between her original Rondo of Blood design or her older self from Symphony of the Night at your leisure. The former has a couple extra palletes based on the original PC-Engine designs of Iris, Tera, and Annette, while the latter has a couple based on Succubus and Alucard. Or, if you are as fond of the design as I am, you can play as her in her Dracula X Chronicles redesign, which has her use older Maria’s win screens.

#castlevania #maria renard #touhou gensodairantou #super smash bros #moveset

[dudebroreg]

Is it bad if I didn’t want Buffy to be with Angel or Spike?? I wanted her to end up with Riley mainly because I loved Spike so much I didn’t want them to be together!! Lol but also I read somewhere that they felt as an audience we forgot spike was a monster so that’s why they wrote the bathroom scene but THEY WROTE HIM TO BE SO LIKEABLE! Why did they suddenly want us to hate him??

(my response is only showing up as a block of text on mobile, so if it’s the same for you, you should probably read on comp for the sake of your eyes LOL)It always feels like you’re isolating yourself from the fandom when you express love for Riley, but I feel you haha. For the most part I always liked him and it was good for Buffy to have that type of relationship after Angel, or even more immediately after her experience with Parker. He was a good, rock solid dude who wasn’t perfect, but I think people fixate on his shortcomings much harder than they do for their favorites. His flaws such as having his masculinity threatened by Buffy or standing by the Initiative when they were clearly shady were completely in the realm of who he was before he met her, but I don’t think people give him enough credit for letting go of that over time and supporting her. Buffy changed A LOT about the life Riley had always known and the people he called family, and he still came through for her. … Well, right up until that whole bloodbag storyline which was really fucking weird and sudden and felt ooc for the Riley we had come to know. I tend to ignore that because it was so wild and felt like I was being tricked into disliking him to get him out of the way to open a door for Spike LOL, but I generally remember him for his good and was happy he got to come back in season 6 to leave on respectful terms as the Riley we know. The fact that he didn’t give Buffy shit for catching her with Spike is telling of how much he respects her, considering how low he rightfully thinks of Spike. That said, even though I like him and respect what Buffy/Riley represented, I wasn’t big as a FAN on the pairing just because my main criteria before I start being invested in a fictional couple is how much I’m entertained by them, and in that regard Buffy/Riley was just kinda there. Riley was such a good ol’ boy that it hurt sometimes lol. Their relationship at its best was healthy but never particularly exciting from the vantage point of it being a TV show.As for why they had Spike stoop so low to remind you that he’s “bad” (understatement). Think of it like this: they wanted him to cross a line that not only made it impossible for him to carry on how he was with the other characters as a shady ally, but also cross a line with the fans that would no longer allow him to be the cool soulless vampire with a chip in his head who helps the good guys but still wishes he could kill people, who we accepted because it was funny and entertaining. The fans would never accept season 4-season 6 Spike ever again after what he did, which means he has to go one way or the other. He either had to go back to being a villain, or he had to get a soul in order for us to give him another chance with the precedence set by Angel/Angelus.And in that regard, would it have really hit home for the audience as hard if Spike had simply tried to kill Buffy in one of their fights or somehow started killing other people again? I don’t think it would, because we’re so conditioned by that genre and that show to perceive killing and draining people’s blood and trying to take over the world etc. as “normal” vamp behavior, to the extent that a lot of it is why a lot of people actually LIKE Spike or find him sexy. How many people say they love the “bad boy” Spike of season 2 where he is a charismatic mass-murderer? A lot. How many people say they love the Spike who tried to force himself on Buffy in season 6? Zero. Because the writers were not going to give you the benefit of enjoying his monstrous nature that time.But it wasn’t ooc at ALL. It was just a part of him that we never really considered before because he was so funny and cool. People argue “even without a soul, Spike would never hurt Buffy like THAT.” But he’s not thinking about it like THAT. You can see in his face after she fights him off that he wasn’t thinking about it much at all. Angelus is a methodical monster who meticulously plans every horrible thing he does (and has probably done unspeakable things to countless women with complete clarity and relished in their suffering), but William the Bloody is a monster driven by primal instinct and immediate desire. This has been a well established difference between them, and in that moment in Seeing Red, wanting what Spike wanted in that state of mind and lacking the moral capability to stop himself, why wouldn’t he take it that far in the context of his character? Why wouldn’t a soulless killer who thinks pain and love go hand-in-hand take it that far when he is that desperate and seeing only what he wants at that exact moment in time? Because he loves her? His very definition of love is fucked up anyway. 

This was a reminder of what he is to the fans, and a final nail-in-the-coffin for Buffy if she needed any more reasons to never trust him again, as she said herself. And when I say “him” I mean soulless Spike, because who he becomes later is a different story and is arguably the person who she trusts the most. (………….. and a way better person for her to end up with than Angel for a million reasons but I went on about that enough in my last rant LOL).So, that gut punch for the audience at that time was needed because the point was to never allow chipped soulless Spike to be accepted ever again by the Scoobies or by the fans, and in that sense I think it was a strong creative decision. And it was even better because they tricked us into believing his next move was to have his chip removed to go back into full William the Bloody mode. Just when you think you’re finished supporting Spike as a protagonist, the season ends with the revelation that he was fighting for his soul the whole time, at which point we can only judge him on who he becomes after the fact, unless you reject Buffyverse’s soul concept entirely and hold Angel to the same canon-bending scrutiny.

#spike #buffy summers #btvs discourse #spuffy #btvs #riley finn #anon

[doom-dreaming]

“Dear Digital Diary”

I finally finished it! So this is my fic for @shanblackwood - as part of a trade (that beautiful bloody monstery boy from a while back). It got much longer than I was expecting, so most of it is under the cut. There’s a lot of pining, a little bit of smut, and copious amounts of fluff. (I hope it’s everything you wanted!!)

(Read it on Ao3 here!)

- - - - - - - - - -

“Oh fuck, we’re gonna have to retake that—” He grins briefly at the camera, all sharp white teeth and sparkling eyes, before ducking his head, laughing.

Your heart skips a beat. You rewind. Pause. It feels like that smile is for you. Like those pale blue eyes are looking directly into yours. You take a screenshot. It joins the other thousands in the folder labeled ‘outtakes.’ You think it sounded innocuous enough.

Not that either of them ever go through your files—you’re one of the few people they trust. They have no reason not to. You’re just the video editor, after all. They’re the faces on the screen. They’re the voices on the radio. You’re not much more than a useful tool to them.

You press play. “—have to retake that—” A few keystrokes, a few clicks, remove the clip from the rest of the recording. ‘>DELETE or SAVE?’ the screen prompts.

Keystroke. >SAVE  Click.

- - - - - - - - - -

“How do you always manage to fuck these up?” Tyreen sounds incredulous, but not angry. She punches Troy’s arm and he jumps away with an exaggerated yelp, then smiles. It’s equal parts dazzling and dangerous.

Your heart does a little flip as you play it back in slow motion. >SAVE

The next one is Tyreen’s. She mispronounces a word. “What’s that about me fucking up?” Troy teases, repeating her slip-up in a mocking tone. “Shut it, asshole.” Again, not angry. Playful. He sticks out his tongue at her. Laughs through a grin.

You cut the footage. ‘>DELETE or SAVE?’ Your hand hovers over the keys. >DELETE Click. You attempt to distract yourself with the rest of the video. Anything to keep from thinking about that slick pink tongue on your neck, between your lips...between your thighs.

Three hours later, you pause with your cursor over the power menu. Instead, you nudge it toward the little trash icon. Click. Click. ‘RESTORE TO “outtakes”? >YES   NO’ Click.

- - - - - - - - - -

It’s late. Your work had been easy, for the most part. Just fixing pacing, sound and color correction, little things. The twins had stayed professional—well, as professional as they could be, which wasn’t saying much. But they’d gotten their point across with minimal mistakes.

All except for the few minutes before the cameras started rolling when Troy had decided to sing. You’d never heard it before—the song—but you rewound and replayed it so many times that you knew the words by the time you finally forced yourself to move on. After cutting and saving the clip, of course.

He hadn’t been trying to put on a show. He hadn’t even been particularly loud—you had to adjust the volume and bump down the ambient noise to even make out most of it—he was just...singing for the sake of it. Fixing his hair, his eyeliner… ...singing. The usual frantic beat of your heart had settled into a gentle flutter—not the typical reaction when you saw him.

And now you’re leaned back in your chair, watching it again. His eyes are unfocused, distant, but not troubled. He seems calm. Content. That cloying warmth is wrapping itself around your heart again. You find yourself wishing you could touch him. You want to reach through the screen and run your hand through his hair. Trace his jawline. Kiss him. You want to feel him murmuring those lyrics against your lips, humming into your mouth—

You shove your chair away from your desk. Run your hands through your hair. Sigh and close your eyes and shake your head. You can’t do this. You absolutely can’t let yourself feel this. Sooner or later, it’ll start affecting your work, and if you give anything less than what the twins expect—if you’re not useful anymore—

You stand. Close the video. Turn off your monitor. Go to bed. But not even sleep lets you escape from visions of his hands on your body, his mouth on your neck, his whispered words in your ear.

- - - - - - - - - -

You wake the next morning to the insistent ‘ping’ of your ECHOcomm. More work. Well, that’s a good sign.

Your breath stops—no, it feels more like it’s punched out of you—when you see the name of the sender. That single, simple, four-letter name. Troy. Troy Calypso. You hate the way your fingers shake as you open the message. It’s semi-formal, all business, a simple request for more editing. He’s attached several files. More work, you reassure yourself. Just more work.

Still, it takes you the better part of an hour to finally sit down at your computer. But you do, armed with shitty coffee and a very fragile grasp on your willpower. Six videos. DOWNLOAD ALL? >YES   NO Click. You try not to watch the progress bar.

Why in the hell do you feel like this? Sure, you’d always had a tiny crush on Troy—but so did a lot of people. They’d be stupid not to, you think. He’s tall and toned and dangerous and confident...and those eyes... You sip at your coffee, grimacing against the half-burnt aftertaste. This crush is getting out of hand, that’s your problem. And it’d come completely out of left field, too. Day one was, ‘oh, he’s cute,’ and now… Well, now you were here. Working yourself into a frenzy over the sight of his goddamn name.

A chime sounds, announcing the download’s completion. You gulp down the rest of the coffee, crush the flimsy cup in your hand, and start clicking. You recognize the setup from the thumbnails alone. New gun reveals. Some of the tension drains from your body. These are something you can handle. Granted, they’re more candid than the usual broadcasts, but they’re still not as personal as you’d been expecting. You fight back the wave of disappointment, rationalizing it away. Telling yourself it’s for the best.

“Hey, ECHOnet, it’s your favorite twin, with another shipment of kickass guns! Tyreen had something “super important” to do—” You smile as he claws the quotation marks into the air. “—so you get me all to yourselves…” He winks. Your heart flips. “Okay! So let’s jump right in—” He makes a face. Cocks an eyebrow. “Jump? Dive? Feels like I need something better than “let’s get started”—” More air quotes. “That just sounds lame.” He sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Your voice makes anything sound good,” you murmur to the screen. He sits in silence for a minute, chewing on his bottom lip, looking lost. The urge to reach out and touch him comes back, even stronger than before. And then the vulnerability is gone, replaced by the cocky, carefully-crafted mask of charisma and confidence that everyone else assumes is normal. “Okay! So let’s break down these new guns! First up, we have…”

Pause. Rewind. Click, click, click. >SAVE Play.

The rest of the video goes more smoothly, as do the next three. Not much to cut, even less to keep for yourself. You continue to fight back the disappointment. Two left. Just two more and you can distract yourself for (hopefully) the rest of the day—

The fifth video catches you off guard. It’s...not a gun haul. It’s not set up in a studio. It’s dark, but there’s enough ambient light to make out shapes. It looks like it’s been filmed from a personal recorder and…

Troy’s face slides into the frame and he’s grinning, looking happier—and more devious—than you’ve ever seen. “Ty’s asleep…” It pans away, toward a vague shape across the dark room, before flipping back to Troy. You realize he’s the one filming it. “...and, uh...the new skag puppies are harmless right now, so…thought I’d play a little prank on her…” He creeps closer, quieter than you would’ve assumed, keeping the camera trained on the bed where Tyreen’s sleeping, clinging to a pillow and… You adjust the volume. ...yeah, she’s definitely snoring.

An odd feeling washes over you. For the first time, you feel as though you’re intruding into something you shouldn’t be seeing. The twins, your gods, are so...human. Granted, you’re smarter and saner than the majority of your peers—you know about sirens and relics and everything that could feasibly give them the illusion of divinity, but this still feels nigh-sacrilegious. He couldn’t have meant to send this…could he? You watch it anyway.

He holds up some sort of treat, then makes a show of placing it on the bed. After a few minutes, both the bed and Tyreen are practically covered and he’s retreating to the doorway, stifling involuntary laughter behind his free hand. You find yourself smiling along with him. “...gonna go release the hounds,” he announces as soon as he’s a safe distance down the hall, although the giggle that follows completely negates any sense of drama. Your stomach curls around itself in a funny twist.

The camera shakes horribly as he jogs across the compound, but you’re glad you don’t speed through it. “Goin’ to see the babies,” he sing-songs to himself once the skag pens start to come into focus. You swear your heart almost explodes. How the fuck is he...like this? Does anyone else see this, aside from Tyreen? Do they know their god is so...sweet?

He whistles as he approaches. The reaction is immediate. A litter of skag pups bowls out of the nearest den, tripping over each other and their own legs, yipping and growling. The camera dips—you assume Troy's kneeling. “Hey, killers...heh, yeah, hey…” He's laughing, scratching at their heads, letting them snap at his fingers. “Oh! You’re gettin’ big, Pepper. Yeah, not really the baby anymore, huh? Wanna go play with Ty? Yeah?” There’s a lower growl, somewhere offscreen. “Easy, big girl… I promise I’ll bring ‘em back.” With that reassurance, he opens the gate.

The remaining three minutes of footage go exactly as expected, in a flurry of hungry skag pups, laughter, cursing, and a few death threats from Tyreen. You watch, awestruck. They’re so playful, so normal. Again, so human. Innocent, almost. The video ends with a mad scramble for the recorder, from which Tyreen emerges victorious. The screen zaps to black, cutting her stream of half-sincere verbal abuse off mid-sentence.

You stare at the replay symbol, vaguely aware of your reflection in the monitor. They wouldn’t know if you kept a copy...would they? Click. Click. Click-click. You name the duplicate something inconspicuous. Not that they’ll go looking for it. ...but just in case.

Steeling yourself, though you’re not sure exactly what for, you click on the last video. The name doesn’t give anything away, none of them do—they’re all titled by filming date—and you can’t make anything out from the thumbnail, but you’re expecting another haul. Surely the personal recording was included by mistake— ...it’s some sort of reaction video. Troy’s own computer screen is the focus. His webcam feed is in the upper right corner.

“Probably gonna regret this…” he mutters. “But what the hell. Okay! The “horny for Troy” chat is officially open!” You pause. Rewind. No...you'd definitely heard him right the first time. “I want you to know you're all sluts.” He shoots a saccharine grin at his webcam. You feel the faintest twinge of guilt. “First question, here we go. ‘Starting with the obvious’—ooh, watch that confidence, fucker—’dom or sub?’ Okay, listen—” The smirk on his lips betrays his dramatic sigh. “These collars?” He yanks on the metal loop with one finger. “Not just for the aesthetic. But truthfully, I can do both. Next question.”

You fidget, acutely aware of how hot everything feels. Your head. Your hands. Your thighs. It's as if half the blood in your body rushed north and the other half rushed south. It's fluid, fiery, desperate. You toss your headphones onto the desk. Push your chair back. Rake your fingers through your hair.

You imagine they're his. Gripping your head as he kisses you, forcing his tongue between your lips, claiming you, marking you. You're mine, he'd growl. The words would rattle through your ribs, filling you up, making you believe them. And in that moment, they’d be true. Just you. Just him—

NO. You have to control yourself. It's not professional, it's not right. Whether or not he meant to send this doesn't matter. It doesn’t justify…

You glance back at the screen. You wish you hadn’t, because your fleeting fit of common sense dissipates as soon as you see the blush on Troy’s face. It’s deep red, beautiful against his skin, splashed across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He’s laughing about something, reaching back to rub at his neck, looking down, long eyelashes fluttering almost shyly—

CLICK. That’s all it takes. A single, swift, definitive motion. The window closes. Your flustered reflection stares back at you. Your heavy pulse taunts you. Your arousal mocks you.

You ignore all of it. With more self-control than you've been able to manage recently, you load the edited videos onto a new drive. You'll deliver them yourself. Maybe that will keep the fantasies at bay for a while. Maybe.

- - - - - - - - - -

You find him in the antechamber of the throne room. Not the most private place, but maybe that's for the best. It was always funny to you, how your reactions mellowed when you were actually, physically close to him. It was a blessing, you supposed. You doubted you'd have a job if you turned into an incoherent, fumbling mess whenever you looked at him.

“You could have just sent them back,” he mutters, plucking the microdrives from your hands. “But whatever. Thanks.”

You nod, though he probably misses it as he turns to look back through the door to the throne room. Tyreen is readying for a hearing. You chew your lip, unsure how to broach the subject really on your mind. To hell with it. “Did you mean to send—?”

“Shit.” His focus returns to you. “You got more than the gun hauls, huh?”

“...yeah. I didn't do anything to them.” It isn't a lie. The original videos are still intact.

“But...you watched them?” One eyebrow quirks. He doesn't seem angry.

You nod. And take a risk. “They were kind of endearing.” You keep your completely unprofessional reactions to yourself.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Don’t hear that a lot.”

“Troy!” Tyreen’s voice barks from the throne room. It cuts into the air between the two of you. “C’mon!”

He rolls his eyes and pockets the microdrives. “Thanks again. Wish I could stick around to hear more of your compliments, but…” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Godhood calls.”

His bootsteps fade, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and deceptively-calm heartbeat.

- - - - - - - - - -

The rest of the day is uneventful, you busy yourself with software updates and routine server maintenance. It’s easy, menial work, but it’s enough to keep your thoughts from wandering too far in any direction. Maybe you’d been right, maybe seeing Troy in person had been enough to take the edge off—

Your ECHO pings again and you nearly jump out of your skin. Meet me in Studio B. Troy. You read it again. And again. And once more to be sure. And then you obey.

Your heartbeat isn’t so calm this time. What does he want? Had you made a mistake? Said something wrong?

The studio is dim when you arrive, just a few low lights flicked on behind the booth. Troy’s waiting, his feet kicked up on the mixing desk, fiddling with his ECHO. The door creaks as you enter. You cringe.

“That was fast.”

“An order’s an order.”

He watches you for a long moment, then hums. “I’m not blind, you know.”

“I—” What? You know that, what is he—?

“Or stupid.” He stands, faster and more fluidly than you’re anticipating. In a second, he’s right in front of you. “I know exactly how you feel when you’re around me.” His voice has dropped to a whisper and your stubborn, stupid, misbehaving heart— “I hear the way your pulse skyrockets when you think about what you want me to do to you.”

You blink. Swallow. Is this actually happening? Warm, human fingers press under your chin, tilting your head, forcing you to look at him. There’s mischief dancing behind his pale eyes.

“Stop trying to hide it.”

“I—is that an order?”

His razor-sharp grin is enough of an answer. And then it happens. Those coy lips are pressed to yours. That hot, pink tongue that had invaded so many of your wet dreams is now invading your mouth. He’s gripping the back of your neck. Tugging at your hair. Moaning and growling and laughing—and the sounds are bouncing around your ribcage.

The surrealism of it all flips an interesting switch in your mind. In all your daydreams, every fantasy, you’d assumed you’d be paralyzed with shock in a situation like this. Frozen in awe and disbelief. Pliable and soft in his hands. Instead? You go wild.

All your actions blur into a haze of sensations. His teeth on your neck, biting deep, drawing blood. Your hands running over the sleek lines of muscle that define his body. The jagged tearing of cloth as something is ripped off. His knee between your legs. The world spinning as you’re lifted and pushed onto your back. You hardly notice the jabs of the knobs and switches on the instrument panel beneath you—your legs are wrapped around his hips and you’re clinging to him with all the strength you can muster.

Frantic, desperate fingers tug at your belt, slide inside you, curl forward. Stars bloom behind your eyes. You moan. He growls. Panted, breathless exclamations ricochet between you. Names are chanted, recited like prayers.

You’re wide open and ready for him by the time he thrusts up into you. Quick, needy. You move with him effortlessly, rocking up to meet his hips, digging your fingers into his back. All you can do is feel. Feel his body, feel his lips, feel his breath whispering over your neck as he leans down, pushing deeper. And finally—

It breaks. Tension releases. Heavy breaths mingle with sighs and feather-soft kisses. Bliss.

- - - - - - - - - -

You wake up groggy. Sore. Not naked, but you may as well have been because you know this feeling. You’d definitely had a good, thorough fucking. There isn’t enough fog in your brain to make you forget who’d done it, either. He knew how you felt and he’d… God damn, had he done something about it. You swear you can still feel the echoes of your orgasm throbbing between your legs and you wonder how long ago—

A brisk knock at the door nearly kills the mood. You scramble from your bed, praying that none of the...evidence...of your rendezvous would be apparent to whoever— It’s Troy. Heat blossoms in your face.

There’s a lazy, satisfied smirk on his lips. “Sleep okay?”

Fuck it. “Would’ve been better with you.” You don’t even attempt to maintain a normal pulse rate anymore.

His eyebrows arch. His smirk grows wider, showing teeth. The faintest hint of crimson colors his cheekbones. “Is that an invitation?”

You shrug. Keep cool! “If you want.”

He nods. Bites his lip. “I’ll, uh...keep that in mind. But, here, in the meantime…” He pulls a microdrive from his pocket and holds it out to you. “It’s not work, it’s…you’ll see.”

You take it, letting your fingers brush his palm. You don’t miss the way his blush spreads. Still so goddamn cute.

“I’ve gotta go, but...watch that tonight. Tell me what you think.”

“An order?”

He winks.

- - - - - - - - - -

You settle into your chair and load the microdrive. One file. Click-click.

You recognize the setup immediately. It’s Studio B. And there’s Troy. You’re fully expecting what comes next, but you still groan when you hear the door creak open and you step into view of the camera. Of course he’d filmed it. You’re not surprised in the least.

It’s...comforting, though, how you can allow yourself to watch this without trying to school your emotions. He’d made this for you. He’d given you what you wanted. He knew. You don’t stop—you don’t have to stop—yourself from curling up in your chair, biting your knuckles, blushing, and… ...yes, you’ll admit it—touching yourself while you watch.

The two of you look good from this angle. You don’t remember pushing his coat off, but there it goes, crumpling to the floor, revealing his bare back as he lifts you onto the table. From here, you can see his cybernetic spinal support, glowing with dim red light when he dips down to grind against you. You want to touch it. You’re surprised you didn’t. Maybe next time...

For once, the fantasy of there even being a “next time” fills you with warm hope. Unless you’ve been reading him wrong, he seems...interested. It makes you giddy. It makes you feel as though all of your initial reactions are justified. Now that you know he’s reciprocating.

You feel like you’re dreaming, watching all of this play out on the screen. Those are your hands scratching red lines down his shoulder blades. Your limbs tangled with his, wrapped around him. Your body moving perfectly, fluidly, rhythmically beneath his. Your voice panting out his name like an absolution.

And his voice doing the same with yours.

You stay there, curled in your chair, one hand trailing idly over your thighs, long after the last of your cries have faded. After he cradled you to his chest and helped you back to your feet. After the video ended.

It’s all real, you know that, but it feels like it shouldn’t be. He hadn’t even really known who you were until yesterday. Had he? You guess it doesn’t really matter. You’re both getting what you want, but… ...deep down, you’re hoping it’s not that shallow.

- - - - - - - - - -

He finds you in the morning. You’re back in the server room, allowing your thoughts to sort themselves out. At least… ...that was the plan. Until you hear his voice.

“So...what’d ya think?”

You don’t look at him at first. Your hands work with swift, practiced motions, tying a bundle of wires together. You’re not ashamed of the way your heart skips anymore, but what are you supposed to say to something like that? “Kinky,” you manage to joke.

He sighs, but there’s a hint of a laugh at the end of it. “And here I was expecting some quality constructive criticism.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t work.”

“You know what I mean.”

You watch him out of the corner of your eye. There’s nothing to lean on; his hands are fiddling awkwardly. He’s shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seems expectant.

You finally look up, meeting his eyes. Your heart is racing, as usual. Not with anxiety or anticipation. With newfound hope. With affection. A smirk tugs at your lips. “Maybe a better angle next time? Not that the one you chose was bad…”

And then he does it. He ducks his head, laughing, exactly the same way he’d done in countless videos, in hundreds of cut and saved clips. That same scarlet blush adorns his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. And you fall in love all over again.

- - - - - - - - - - @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @marigold-magpie @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @ayilachan @zipp0flare @luxury-of-insanity @nikyri-reaper @argentineanweaboo @vanillabuttercreamm @anni000001 @imchaoticnerd 

#borderlands fanfiction #my writing #troy calypso x reader #this has some smut but it's not necessarily graphic #not safe for shirts #i feel like i'm missing a lot of tags #smut #pining #fluff #troy's a cutie who blushes a lot

[booksteaandarainyday]

Waking Up The Devil

Summary:

A night out by himself leads Bucky Barnes to some rather...unexpected results. Will the girl he meets wake his inner devil? No descriptions of the female character (I hope?) I tried to make it easy to input input yourself without the use of Y/N or Y/HC etc.  Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own, Author’s note at the bottom!

18 and up please!

Rated M for sexual content and swearing.

Word Count: 4,600

***

11:55. 

The clock on his phone flashed the time up at him as his notifications showed he had at least three unopened messages from his girl. Bucky scoffed into his tumbler of whiskey, his hair falling away from his face as he threw his head back, downing his shot in one gulp. He was vaguely aware of the pair of eyes watching the drop of alcohol still clinging to his lower lip, the heat he felt from that gaze growing hotter as his tongue darted out to suggestively lick it off. A sultry laugh echoed from behind him, followed by the click of a pair of heels approaching slowly. 

Her hand landed softly on his right shoulder as she came to a stop next to him. Fighting his first instinct to shrug off the touch, he turned slowly to take in the gorgeous creature standing next to him with one eyebrow raised and her wine-colored lips upturned in a cocky smirk. He opened his mouth to say something-he wasn’t quite sure what- but the bartender interrupted to deposit a beer, an empty glass, and a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels in front of her, and she thanked him by name. Bucky took the brief moment her intense eyes were off him to let his own wander lazily down her body. 

She wore a pair of tall, black, heeled leather boots, adding a couple inches to her height, with tight, dark blue jeans tucked into them. Her jacket matched her boots, and her hair spilled around her shoulders in loose waves. When she lifted a hand to tuck a strand behind her ear, he saw that her nails were painted to match her lips. She finally turned away from the bartender (Don, Bucky internally corrected himself) and gave Bucky her full attention once again. He noted the tight, black Guns N’ Roses tank top that hugged her tits just right and played peek-a-boo with her belly button, showing off the jewel nestled there. He made his way back to her face, seeing how her dark eye makeup only added to her heavy gaze, giving her an even more seductive air. 

“I,” he started to say, before she snatched his empty glass from where it still dangled from his fingers. 

“We don’t have to do that,” she told him as she lifted the bottle of Jack, a generous amount of the amber liquid pouring from the spout and into his tumbler. She filled her own and handed his back, leaning close. “I know who you are,” she whispered in his ear. A smirk graced her lips as he accepted the offered drink and took a long draught. She put her back to the bar, leaning on her elbows, her chest pushed forward, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way it made her breasts strain against the thin fabric even more. 

She drained her whiskey and traded the empty glass for the full beer leaving a ring of condensation on the dark, lacquered wood of the bar. Entranced, Bucky watched as she took a few long pulls, then lowered her beer back to the edge of the bar as she licked her lips to remove any lingering trace of foam and stepped forward, between his legs where he still perched on his stool. Her hands landed on each of his thighs as she brought her mouth up close to his ear, lips just barely grazing his skin. “You know, if you wanted a little company tonight…” She trailed off, pulling away from him and turning to saunter across the room, weaving expertly through the crowds of people almost like she was dancing, until she got to the screen attached to the wall that had taken the place of an older style jukebox. 

Bucky gulped the last of his drink, all thoughts of  the fight he’d had with his girlfriend erased as he stood to follow, fixating on the sway of her hips and admiring the way the snug denim cupped her ass. Be careful what you wish for, he thought. 

**

An hour later, after they’d danced to some of her favorite classic rock songs and played two rounds of pool (after she’d beaten him at two rounds of pool), she sat delicately on his knee at a table closer to the music selection as they drank more whiskey and traded flirtations. Currently, she faced him, her elbow resting on his left shoulder, her head on her hand with his arm supporting her from behind. Her legs were crossed at the knee, and she nodded along as she listened to him speak. 

He stopped talking, his eyes meeting hers and catching, before traveling down to her lips. Seeing his stare, she very deliberately pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth, biting down on it. An invitation, Bucky decided as he crossed the distance to bite that lip himself. 

But before their mouths met, she was gone. Pulled off his lap by a drunk college kid who really had no business being in a bar like this. With her arm caught in the guys grip, she stumbled a little on her high-heeled boots before catching her balance and sending a bewildered look Bucky’s direction.

He was already on his feet, holding out his left hand for her to take, which she did, with no hesitation at the metal that met her fingers. Her other arm, though, was still being held by the blond asshole still joking with his friends. “Pretty girl like this don’t need to settle for the Winter Soldier.” 

In the corner of his mind, Bucky felt something stir. Something he’d come to accept as a part of himself since his recovery from the Winter Soldier Program. He took a deep breath. 

“I’m not settling for anyone,” she bit out angrily, “Did you ever think that maybe some of us have no interest in fucking overcompensating little boys?” 

Rage sparked in the blond idiot’s eyes before he gripped her upper arm even more tightly. “Fucking bitch! Do you have any idea who the fuck you’re talking to?” He raised his hand, intention clear as he stepped closer. 

Bucky had been wrestling with himself, trying to keep his temper in check, keeping his hold on her hand gentle but firm as he calculated the distance between himself and the kid, making sure he could get her out of the way before any fists went flying. But as soon as the other guy lifted a hand to her, Bucky’s control snapped, and the cage he usually kept around the rougher, angrier part of himself was suddenly just...gone. 

His flesh hand reached to grab the hand blondie still had on her arm and ripped it away, quickly spinning her behind him and letting her go, almost before his mind could process the move. The open palm the guy was going to use on her turned itself into a closed fist that made contact with Bucky’s mouth, splitting his lip. Bucky grinned at his target, blood in his teeth from the cut, and what he was sure was a feral look in his eyes. If you’re gonna bark, you better have a bite. “That’s your one,” he stated, holding up a single finger in emphasis. Then he was in the blonde guys face, metal hand holding him up against the wall, taking note that the guy’s friends had all scattered, leaving him to Bucky’s-no, The Winter Soldier’s-mercy. 

“You’re about to meet a good friend of mine,” he said. And then his other hand landed a solid punch to the guy’s gut. 

**

After a few minutes, it became clear the target of Bucky’s rage wasn’t going to put up much of a fight. So, Bucky dropped him, leaving him a crying mess on the floor of the bar, only slightly banged up. A little bloody, maybe, but Bucky had made certain he wasn’t gonna kill the dude. He turned to the woman he’d been defending and froze. 

She was staring at him, lips parted to show her even, white teeth, chest heaving in excitement, pupils blown wide with lust as she’d watched his display. She reached for him as soon as he looked for her, and he seized her hand instantly, pulling her out the side door of the bar leading to the alley. In moments, he had her back pressed up against the cold bricks making up the exterior of the bar, her legs wrapped snugly around his waist as his right hand cupped her ass, his left around the back of her neck as he fused their mouths together. She buried her hands in the thickness of his hair, moaning as he kissed down her neck and- a little roughly- bit down on her pulse point. Swiftly, his head swung back up to capture her lips again, this time finally nibbling on her lower lip like he’d wanted all night. 

She pulled away from him, breathing heavily from the lack of oxygen their kiss had caused, resting her head against the alley wall as she regarded him from half-lidded eyes, her hands coming to rest loosely around the back of his head, scratching lightly at the skin she found there. Then she leaned forward until they were nose to nose, just barely letting her lips brush his before snagging his lip in her teeth. “Take me home?” she asked, and though it sounded like a question, Bucky knew it was a demand. 

He took a step back, letting her unravel her legs, and gently setting her on her feet. Then he led her to the shiny black motorcycle parked just ten feet away, where she climbed on expertly behind him, pressing close until he could feel her breasts against his back, her thighs tight against his, and her hands, wrapped around his stomach, traced patterns into his abdomen. 

And they were off, speeding three blocks away to the apartment he knew would be empty. Girl, it’s gonna be one hell of a ride.

**

The next thing Bucky knew, he was inside his apartment being pressed against the door as a hot pair of lips was attacking his throat, peppering kisses anywhere they could reach. Her hands were fisted in his jacket, pulling him as close to her as she could while they were both still fully clothed, bringing them chest to chest. Bucky let his fingers wander down her sides, stroking and tickling as they went, until he bent forwards suddenly, getting a grip on the backs of her thighs and lifting her. Almost on instinct, her legs hitched themselves around his hips, and he supported her with one hand as his other helped peel the jacket from her shoulders.

When he heard the light thump of the soft leather hitting the entryway floor, he began walking forward, not bothering to turn on a light. Why should he when he knew the floorplan by heart? Her teeth tugged on his bottom lip once more, a sharp pain that she quickly followed with a soothing swipe of her tongue, and Bucky didn’t miss how she not-so-subtly shifted her hips against him. He felt his jeans growing more uncomfortable with each rotation of her pelvis, and with a quickness that even surprised him, he navigated the darkness of the apartment to his bedroom. 

He kicked the door shut as soon as they were through, the sudden bang echoing through the room, and he moved until he felt the foot of the bed hit his knees. He reached for her legs, carefully unwinding them from around him, and tossing her to the bed, the squeal of protest she let out bringing a smirk to his face. Bucky maneuvered until he could reach the lamp sitting on the side table, flicking the switch. He wanted to see this. 

She hadn’t sat up, instead choosing to recline comfortably, her hair spread out messily across his gray sheets. She raised her hand to her breast, cupping it firmly before releasing it, letting her fingers trace down her torso to the waistband of her jeans, expertly popping the button with just thumb and forefinger; the whole time she watched with lust-darkened eyes while he followed her movements with just his gaze. Slowly, she moved, rolling to her knees, crawling forward until she sat directly in front of his still-standing form, reaching for the button on his own jeans. The sound of his zipper coming down made him impossibly harder, and he let out a groan when she palmed him through his boxers. “Take off your jacket,” she reminded him in a low voice. 

Bucky wanted to let out another moan. God, even her voice held the promise of sex, rough and demanding. His jeans hit his ankles.

As he slid his coat off himself, his cock jumped at the feel of her mouth, hot and wet, circling his tip, teasing him through his underwear, leaving a wet patch of fabric in her wake. He pulled his t-shirt off with one hand, the other going to stroke her hair as she teased him. 

And tease him she did, her fingernails scratching around the elastic of his boxers before tugging them down, letting his erection spring free before she grasped him around the base, squeezing just tightly enough to knock the breath from his lungs. She lifted him, ducking her head as she licked a stripe up the underside of his dick, letting her tongue flit around the head. She looked up then, meeting his eyes as she let her mouth descend to lap gently at his balls, her hand firm around his shaft, pumping him slowly before she raised her head again and swallowed him to the hilt, her teeth carefully sheathed behind her lips.

Jesus, fuck. She was trying to kill him, there was no other explanation. He was lost in the feel of her lips forming a tight seal around him as her head bobbed and her tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge of his tip, and he unconsciously let his hand tangle further in her hair, getting enough of a grasp to guide her movements. Bucky’s eyes closed, his head thrown back in pleasure, as he relished in the gentle caress of her mouth, and for a few minutes, there was only the wet noise of soft sucking as her saliva built up around his shaft, his own labored breathing, and the occasional groan that worked its way from his chest as she led him nearer to the edge. 

It wasn’t until she gently scraped her teeth along his member that he realized how close he was to losing it, and how he very much did not want to come in her mouth. His eyes popped open, and he tilted his chin forward to watch her, noting the way her eyes lit up in amusement, as though she knew she’d had him right on the verge. Can’t have that, he thought. 

His grip on her hair had relaxed as she’d worked him. He strengthened it now in order to pull her face away from him, his gut clenching with arousal as he saw the line of drool still connecting his cock to her mouth, saw her lips shiny with a heady mixture of his precum and her spittle, and saw that line finally break as she flicked out her tongue to catch it. He let go of her hair, feeling her move away from him on the bed as he caught his breath and tamped down his desire for release. 

While he focused on not coming so quickly- like a goddamned teenager, Barnes! Keep it together!- he heard two distinct thuds in the corner of his bedroom. Looking up made his breath catch in his throat. She was in the middle of stripping, still sideways on his bed, her boots thrown haphazardly to the floor (the thudding noises he’d heard), her shirt lay at the end of his duvet, and her jeans were shimmied to halfway down her thighs, back arched as she lay on his bed, freeing one gorgeous leg at a time, before her pants- and the socks that had peeled off with them- were tossed away, leaving her in only a black bra and matching lace panties. 

What was it Sam had said to him once upon a time? Something about if a woman’s bra and panties matched, “You ain’t the one who decided to have sex that night, man.” 

Why the fuck was he thinking about Sam right now?

She’d noticed his attention was back on her by this point, and she arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, seeming to ask what he was waiting for. But before he could make a move, she shifted up to her elbows, reaching behind herself to unclasp that bra and slowly slid the straps down her arms, letting one side dangle from the tip of her index finger for a second and letting it drop in a whisper of fabric. She returned to her prone position, this time spreading her legs and leaving her knees almost flat against the soft surface.

Her hands moved between her knees, stroking her way up both thighs, skirting around her most sensitive areas, instead playing with the lace that flirted with her hips. Bucky moved, kicking his boots off, his pants coming loose from where they’d gotten stuck around his ankles, and he raised one knee to his mattress, leaning forward until his face was only inches from her still-covered core for a better view. 

And she smelled fucking amazing.

She re-adjusted, squirming, he thought, at the feel of his breath against her skin. Then she sank two fingers underneath the leg of her panties, pulling the fabric aside and leaving it. Bucky groaned. Her pussy fucking glistened with her desire, practically dripping onto his bed. He moved to taste her, stopping when he felt her gently press him back. He looked up, finding her propped on one hand, her other still on his shoulder. 

Watch me, her eyes seemed to say, and she released her hold on him. He watched with rapt attention as she trailed a finger up her slit, gathering some of the moisture that had pooled there, and slid it up to circle around her clit. She moved languidly, in no hurry as she added a second finger and repeated the motion. From her opening to her clit, her digits went back and forth, spreading her arousal until even her inner thighs were slick with it. She dipped her first two fingers inside herself and raised them, wet and gleaming, to her mouth. 

She wasted no time, sucking both fingers clean, and quickly going back to her clit, the circles she made becoming faster and tighter as she clenched her eyes shut and moaned her pleasure. Just when Bucky thought she would come, she looked down at him. “You can touch now.”

Thank fuck. 

He dove forward, replacing her fingers with his own and wrapping one arm around a thigh to bring that perfect pussy closer to his mouth. She let out a groan when his two middle fingers fucked into her, her inner walls feeling like goddamned velvet fluttering around them. When he wrapped his lips around her little bundle of nerves and flicked it with his tongue, she cried out. 

He timed the thrusts of his fingers perfectly with the suction on her clit, and when he felt her muscles clenching harder, he curled his fingers toward the front of her vagina and massaged the ridged area of swollen tissue he found there. Her hand shot to the back of his head, pressing him further into her cunt as she screamed her orgasm before abruptly letting go, falling boneless back to his bed, muscles quivering. He pulled his fingers out, pressing a light kiss to her clit, making her shake harder, and pulled a condom from the bed-side stand, ripping open the little foil packet and sliding it on in record time. He heard a faint rip as her panties tore from her body, little scraps of fabric fluttering down somewhere behind him.

He could still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm as his cock drove into her, each plunge of his hips harder than the last, the wet noise of their bodies meeting spurring him on. Bucky used both hands to lift her lower half into the air as she moaned beneath him, forcing her to meet him thrust for thrust, being sure to grind his pelvic bone into her clit every so often to make sure he got to hear the little wail of bliss she gave every time. He pulled out nearly all the way, relishing in how her breath expelled from her lungs every time his dick buried to the hilt.

Finally, he lowered her legs, covering her body with his as he bent his head to her breasts, tugging a nipple between his teeth and soothing it with a lap of his tongue. Perfect fuckin’ tits, too. Now able to move on her own, she rocked her hips to keep their bodies joined together as he fucked her like that, hard and fast.

When she fell into her second release, crying his name, Bucky followed, spilling into the condom as he roared his pleasure to the ceiling. 

With the condom discarded into the trash bin, he gathered her nearly asleep form into his arms, situating the both of them beneath the soft blanket. She nestled closer into his chest, murmuring something unintelligible as she drifted off. 

Satisfied and tired from the events of his long day, Bucky closed his eyes and followed her into a sleep free of dreams. 

**

The sun woke him the next morning. He didn’t have anywhere to be, so he stretched contentedly, basking in the warm light coming from his window. When his arms met nothing but empty bed, he sat up, looking for any sign of where she’d gone. 

Her clothes were absent from his floor. No boots, no bra- hell, even the scraps of lace from her ruined panties were missing. 

Bucky flipped back his covers, stalking to his dresser for a pair of clean boxers, noting that his dirty clothes from the night before still lingered messily as he tugged the underwear up and opened the bedroom door. Immediately, the scent of coffee assailed his nose, and he followed the aroma through the living room and into his kitchen. 

There she sat, coffee in her favorite mug, with an open bag of cinnamon donuts next to her as she read on her iPad, wearing what he was pretty sure was his Led Zeppelin t-shirt, the hem hitting her nearly at her knees. Without looking up she called cheerfully, “Morning, baby,” and she lifted her mug to take a sip of the still hot coffee. He grinned as he shuffled forward in his bare feet to wrap an arm around her shoulders in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her sleep-messy hair. 

“Morning, darlin’,” he said, his voice still a little rough from disuse. He moved to slip into the chair across from her at the kitchen table, coffee fixed just the way he liked it already waiting for him. Snagging a donut from the bag, he bit into it, cinnamon powder sticking to his lips as he chewed, observing the home they’d made together. Photos of them adorning the walls, her favorite books on the shelves next to his. A basket sat just outside their private laundry room with her clothes from the previous evening right on top, and if he turned toward the front door, he would see her boots placed neatly on the mat, right next to his running shoes.  The jacket they’d left in the hall hung from it’s proper hook.

She cleared her throat, bringing him from his thoughts, and he focused on her. She’d washed her face at some point between the time he’d fallen asleep and woken up this morning, bare skin devoid of any makeup, save a hint of mascara still smudged underneath her lower lashes. “I’m sorry we argued last night.” Her gaze remained fixed on the dark wood of the kitchen table, fingers absently tracing a small scratch in the stain. “I know it isn’t your fault you get picked for those kinds of missions.” He was silent for a moment, watching as she began to worry at the scratch with her nail, still not looking at him. Reaching out, he caught her hand before she could deepen the indent. 

“I’m sorry, too,” he told her. “I never should have said you were smothering.” Bucky brought his other hand to her chin, tilting her head up so he could look her in the eyes. “The fact that you worry about me like you do means you care. And before I had you, no one else but Steve gave a shit if something happened to me. I’m sorry if I made you feel like your feelings weren’t important.” He could see the tears begin to well up, so he stood and held his arms open as he went to her. She was up and burrowed in his chest instantly, and he rocked her gently from side to side, one hand stroking her hair, one rubbing circles in her back.

“Your whole team loves you, James, you know that?” Her voice was quiet as her tears finally calmed. He didn’t speak, just gave a small nod of his head in answer as they continued to sway.

After a few more calm moments, he chuckled a little. “You know,” he started, “after that fight, I didn’t think you would actually go through with last night.” She pulled back slightly from the embrace, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief as she rolled her eyes. 

“Really? You didn’t think I would take an opportunity to wear those boots again?” Bucky laughed at her question, a smile stretching wide across his face. 

“Not what I meant, doll,” he reminded her. 

She gave a cheeky smirk. “I know,” she replied. “But you know, it wasn’t exactly what I expected to happen when you asked me to re-enact the first time we met.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, bringing her left hand around to drum her fingers on his chest, and pointedly eyeballing it before giving him a serious look. 

Bucky chuckled again, unwinding his arms from her body, pushing her shoulders gently until she sat back in her chair. He made a trip back to their bedroom and returned to sit on both knees in between her legs. He sat the small, velvet box on the table next to her elbow and clasped her waist. 

“How did you know?” he asked. 

She scoffed, incredulity written across her face. “You ought to know better than to try and sneak something past certain red-haired spies.”

Bucky dropped his head, groaning. “Natasha.”

“Natasha,” she confirmed, stroking his cheek with light touches until he could lift his head again. He was sure his face was tinged pink with his embarrassment at having forgotten his super-spy friend. 

“Well, darlin’,” he clapped his palms to her bare thighs and squeezed gently, causing her to brighten with the smile she reserved only for him. “Secret’s out. So what do you say?” He flicked the ring box with one finger without looking away from her. 

Her expression turned mischievous, eyes crinkling mirthfully and lips upturned with trouble. 

“You know, the night we met, we fucked at that bar.”

Bucky just grinned. 

Damn, he loved this woman. 

Author’s Note:

This is based off a Hinder song of the same title, but I wanted it to follow the flow of the song without actually having all the lyrics right there. I recommend giving it a listen! Did you guys fall for my little mind trick with the girlfriend/cheating thing? Let me know what you think. I live for the comments. xoxo

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x original female character #because you are original damn it #shameless smut

[sssn-neptune-vasilias]

Fumikage Tokoyami

We’re gonna kick off my BNHA fight metas talking about a character whose power I absolutely adore- Anime Edgar Allen Poe. This kid is ridiculously strong- he placed 3rd in the Sports Festival for a reason- and has only get stronger since.

Tokoyami is intelligent and resourceful, and thanks to his Quirk Dark Shadow he’s an amazing general in the making. He’s essentially removed from the battlefield while his power fights for him, which is actually kind of useful and allows him to assess fights while still engaging his enemies. He’s got a 5/5 in cooperativeness and it shows- he can often plan while attacking, using Dark Shadow to keep his opponents occupied while filling his team in on how they help can finish the job.

Dark Shadow itself is as cool a power as they come. It’s an entirely sentient and autonomous shadow beast that- at least during daylight hours- is super helpful and oftentimes just as resourceful as its host. It can defend Tokoyami with its body and attack with powerful hits at a long range. And as night falls and its host gets angrier, Dark Shadow’s power only grows, absolutely dominating him and anyone else who stands in its way.

This is the guy who kept both of Class A’s strongest powerhouses on the defensive for the entirety of their encounter being literally yeeted out of the fight in an instant.

I love these kinds of powers- powers that take on a life of their own, powers that can completely turn against their hosts, powers that can leave their hosts helpless to them under the right- or wrong- conditions. In the complete darkness of a forested countryside and spurred on by Tokoyami’s teenaged angst and righteous anger, Dark Shadow can become an absolute behemoth, capable of obliterating anything and anyone in its path. I can’t wait to see how powerful this version of Dark Shadow can get while under Tokoyami’s control, but for now, I’ll deal with what we can get.

Because of this tumultuous relationship with Dark Shadow, we can see that Tokoyami displays incredible restraint he’s using it. This is shown during the Sports Festival when he beats Momo without ever laying a hand- shadow or otherwise- on her. With a swift barrage of strikes aimed directly at the shield she’d created, he pushed her out of the ring in seconds. Without a shield he even manages to push Ashido just hard enough to slide her out of the ring-

complete control with minimal physical contact. It’s obvious that even under ideal conditions- broad daylight and in complete control of his emotions- Tokoyami just doesn’t trust Dark Shadow or even himself in a fight. He does his best to maintain control over his own Quirk, but recognizes that Dark Shadow is just as much a dangerous weapon as it is a powerful tool.

Unfortunately a Quirk as cool as Dark Shadow has to have drawbacks- otherwise he’d just be the main character in his own anime. Its energy is drained by light and grows weaker and weaker until it fades away entirely. This is unfortunately an extremely obvious weakness- the shadow bird person is weak to the light. who would’ve guessed?- and Class A’s pile of personified garbage Bakugo manages to take advantage of it and get his semi-finals victory

(But I’ll be damned, if bright light beat shadows the same way fire types beat water types Tokoyami and Dark Shadow put up one hell of a fight).

Tokoyami himself also has a few weaknesses. While Dark Shadow as a Quirk is powerful and durable, Tokoyami is... not so much so.

Tokoyami actually recognizes this and creates his first signature move Black Ankh (this kid seriously needs to put down his HP Lovecraft books), in an attempt to mitigate his relative physical weakness. Unfortunately our boy Mirio is well versed in punching birds.

He’s also gotta work on watching his own six- in one-on-one fights this won’t be a problem- but when he’s being surrounded, he won’t always have our favorite frog girl to watch his back.

But even with these weaknesses, Fumikage Tokoyami still manages to secure his rank among U.A.’s finest heroes-in-training. He’s a character who has to fight himself and his Quirk as hard as he fights the guys he’s sworn to apprehend. He’s someone who struggles every day with the beast within and refuses to allow it to win. He’s a bird man with teeth! And I think he’s just a super neat character, even if he looks absolutely horrifying when looking directly at the camera.

That’s why I’ll be chanting Revelry in the Dark, whenever I need a super assist.

Can we all give a hand for the amazing @rosamage​ for working on these GIFs for me? Seriously her GIFs are fantastic and she’s super helpful, I would fight for her.

#BNHA #Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #Fumikage Tokoyami #bnha tokoyami #Fight Meta

[traveledoceansoftime]

The Perfect Storm ✦ Rental

➽ WHO: @keirablackwoodxreborn    @traveledoceansoftime

➽ WHAT: Scandalous Shower Encounter. Multiple Orgasms.

➽ WHERE: Hennessy’s Suite.

➽ WHEN: June 6th, 2019.

➽ WHY: Establishment Of Trusting Intimacy.

______________________________________________________________

The idea of a rental was an entirely new concept to the British Professor and he had been mulling it over for quite some time before deciding upon who his first pick would be. It was baffling to think that he could rent a slave like he rented a car but at the same time, deep down inside, where his leviathan lurked he secretly embraced the idea in its entirety.

“Right this way.” A Guard led Hennessy down a long corridor with slave cells lined up all neat in a row to one side. His mere presence elicited a slew of reactions; from startled gasps, to averted gazes, even curious peaks from under a sheet. He watched every single reaction, drank it in. Putting all those faces of the ones who had evaded him to memory but it really did not matter in that moment. He was in the cells for a reason.

“Keira Blackwood.” The Guard said out loud and then slid a card through a lock punched in some numbers and the barrier door to the slaves cell opened slowly. Hennessy slipped passed the guard and stepped in, his height and stature blocking any attempt at an escape should it cross her mind. “Ello friend. You! Have been rented. Come on, get your things I do not like to be kept waiting.” There was a friendly smile on his face when he delivered the words, his delight in the surprise and shock of it all was far too palatable to hide.

Keira Blackwood: How slowly time moved when one wanted it to move fast! She felt as if each minute was an eternity dragging by. Soon, any minute now, the cells would be open and slaves could go about their day to do as they pleased. But, it was just before they were allowed out. Keira paced like a caged animal - because she certainly was one. Perhaps she could see if Icarus needed help at the vet today. Or she could find that waterfall so many others talked about. However, it was the appearance of a guard a few minutes before her freedom that made her heart sink. He addressed her by name. Surely that was not a good sign. As he unlocked the cell door, Hennessy slipped in. Rented? Again? Surely there was a mistake for who would want to rent her not only once but twice. It baffled her. Yet, she stood in complete shock. Perhaps she was still dreaming. Keira moved in a fog and packed a bag. Unsure of what was required of her, she quickly put in most of the bikinis she now owned, a few light dresses in case the wardrobe were to change, and a few other things. Perhaps it was too much, but she did not have much to her name and the bag was still light. "I'm ready." She informed him. Though, what was she ready for?

Hennessy: Time was like that wasn’t it? One moment standing still, the next slipping through your fingers like tiny grains of sand. It had taken Hennessy some time to consider if he even wanted to indulge in the idea of a rental. The entire concept would be considered a scandalous felony back home. But here he was with his mind made up standing in front of the slave that had caught his attention in more ways than one. His hands were resting in his coat pocket toying with the black leather collar he’d had ‘Hennessy’ engraved upon. He watched her face for any reaction, he watched her pack her belongings obediently and when she turned to face him his long legs moved the man to her side. “Are you?” He asked, his voice went rich, masculine meant for her ears only while he took out the collar from his coat pocket, Hennessy swallowed hard knowing full well this was a pivotal moment in his stay upon the island. What was once deemed inappropriate in his mind was now suddenly accepted, encouraged even. The stormy hue of his eyes seemed to deepen the very second he slipped the collar around Keira’s tiny neck, it was cinched and locked, the deed was done. “Come with me.” He added knowing full well she’d follow him without a leash.

Keira Blackwood: Keira still was unsure how she truly felt about such rentals. Her only other one was with Icarus. He had treated her very well, and she had enjoyed her time with him in a safe environment. Was it dehumanizing to be rented as a piece of merchandise? Perhaps, but Keira had experienced such dehumanizing things from both Rollo and the collar around her neck and the cage she slept in. She had no desire to fight back to such things, as all the fight had been drained out of her long ago. Truly, she was simply shocked at being rented yet again. Though, this one was off to a better start since guards had not pulled her from her cell while she was paralyzed with fear and confusion. At once he was by her side with such a large frame looming over her. Keira stared up at him. Was she truly ready? Perhaps not as the unknown certainly made her nervous. Would he be as kind to her as he had at the beach or as intimidating as he had in his classroom? In one fluid movement, he replaced her standard collar with another. The weight was different and Keira lifted one hand to inspect the new collar. Her head fell down to see the black collar. Perhaps later she would have more time to inspect it. His command propelled her forward and she slipped out of the cell with him.

Hennessy: Hennessy’s heart raced, on the outside he seemed as calm as a secret lagoon but on the inside he was riled up, excited at the possibilities. The guards stepped to the side and the British Professor moved along the long line of cells with Keira in tow. He only glanced back once drinking in the sight of her face and craving the touch of her lips because the sight of her in his collar, with his name engraved on it did something to him he found surprising on many levels. Unfortunately for him Hennessy had yet to move from his suite so the entire stay for Keira would be close by but the islands suites were rather luxurious and they had amenities he took advantage of. He pushed open the last door and they were greeted with a cloudy day, the sun attempting to peak out but to no avail. “Keep up.” He huffed while his long legs moved him across the schools grounds and straight to the Master and Mistresses suites. Hennessy unlocked his door and stepped in, he waited for her to come in and then closed it gently as to not startle her too much for now it was just he and her, the rest of the world did not matter in that moment of time.

Keira Blackwood: Though this was much better than being led to the unknown by guards who showed her no kindness, Keira was just as terrified as her first rental. What did Hennessy mean to do with her? Would she see the kindness she saw at the beach that fateful day? She was not sure. From what she knew of Hennessy so far in their short meetings it was that he could display a wide range of emotions. Keira picked up her pace at his command. Her heart leapt in fear. Was he angry? How horrible it was to face the unknown! Up the stairs they went and arrived at a door that must belong to him. Silently Keira entered it and looked around. The suite was quite lovely - more lavish than anything she had ever lived in. This was the part she dreaded the most. How could she face the unknown of what he desired from her when she was so nervous? One stared at the other, though his gaze betrayed his hunger and excitement. "What would you like of me?" She finally broke the silence.

Hennessy: “Everything.” Hennessy replied looking down at her demure face awash with nervousness. That would be like him to answer like that asking for it all and yet not laying down any specifics quite yet. Of course he had the scroll with his rules written out for her to read with her eyes only but that could wait. More than anything Hennessy craved intimacy and what better way for them to begin getting to know one another then a steaming, hot shower? His rather large hand met hers slipping her bag from her grasp. He casually sat it a top a side table and then reached for his prize. That same hand met hers once more, seeking touch, his fingers ghosting over her skin before entangling with her own fingers. Hennessy clasped her hand and began to lead her down the long hallway, straight to the Master bedroom and into the Master bath. The British Professor turned the knobs on the shower, releasing water immediately, steamy vapors quickly filling the room. Standing to the side Hennessy was suddenly uncomfortable in his favorite trench coat so he made his first request. “Remove my coat.”

Keira: Everything. How that word hung heavy on her. Keira could not give him everything as she had nothing to give. She was used and abused - wrung and washed out. Yet it still made her fear this rental. Keira did not want to give everything. For she was so scarred from her time with Rollo that the thought of sex with anyone set her into a panic. Every touch in her past had been cruel and painful, so she flinched from all touches. Her eyes downcast as she accepted her seemingly grim fate. How she flinched as he reached for her! Yet, his touch was only gentle. Despite everything it was almost hesitant. How strange to feel a gentle touch for once in her life. Keira followed him to his bathroom and observed as he set to work. Did he wish to have her clean? Or himself? “Okay.” Keira reached for his trench coat and slowly pulled it off his shoulders. Down his arms the fabric fell and she held it folded neatly in her arms. “Where would you like this?”

Hennessy: Hennessy’s ocean blue eyes drifted over to a nearby wooden bench, it would be fine sitting there. “There will do.” It felt comforting to have her nearby, it felt rewarding to have her doting on him he had to admit. Without a word Hennessy reached for her hands once again, this time his strength pulled her to him. He looked down at her hands and guided them to begin unbuttoning his shirt although he nearly gasped when her fingers grazed his bare chest.   Hold it together man.   Once the shirt was off he simply huffed some words. “Leave it, I don’t care.” There was a rush in his voice, he wasn’t worried about wrinkles in fabric not when his inner most desires were being set aflame. He kicked off his shoes over to the side, socks as well and then captured her hands again. He gave her tiny hands a light squeeze and then, ever so slowly, so slow he thought he’d lose his mind he began to guide her fingers In unbuttoning his slacks. They were then quickly kicked off now only in his midnight blue boxers he paused switching his focus to her. She had far too many pieces of clothing upon her body and he wanted everything. He wanted to see every inch of her body, he’d wanted that since the first day they met. “Take your clothes off I want to see you.” His words were drenched with heated lust and the steam that was swirling about him seemed to hum with an electric charge a precursor to what was to come.

Keira: Keira could only nod. How else was she to respond than to simply go through the motions? One had to be dense to not follow along with what he was truly thinking. Keira set his coat on the bench then neared him once more. It simply wasn’t close enough for his tastes. How quickly he pulled her closer! Keira gasped from the power he displayed under the pull. He silently guided her to her next task. Just as wordlessly as him, Keira unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingers shook slight as she reached the last button. Once more she started towards the bench but he was in no mood for her to follow that. Keira could only toss the shirt and move to him once more. Now it was time for his pants. Keira could not look at him as her hands shook while she undid his pants. The anticipation this was building up to was weighing terribly hard on her fears. How she had expected his next command. Keira removed her bikini slowly. Being nude was not a shameful or embarrassing act to her. Nudity was part of life, many in her pack had seen her naked and she them. It was hard not to during transformations. No, what truly terrified her and slowed her motions was what she expected to follow. Keira stood naked before him terrified and looking down.

Hennessy: Some might have said she was tragically submissive but Hennessy saw something else in her and he wondered if in time he could pick up the pieces, mold and guide. Time would tell.  Hennessy tore of the remaining article of clothing upon himself and once again the leviathan in him made the British Professor reach for her. He stepped back with Keira in tow bringing her with him, beckoning her into the hot spray of the shower. Steamy water trickled over his broad, protective shoulders and along his creamy light complexion. Down his strong, muscular arms, along his lean, toned stomach over the cut lines at his hips. It felt divine, even more so that Keira was there with him. A sigh of pleasure escaped the British Professor, his eyes closed in bliss, drowning in the sensations he’d been holding back but his hands never released hers. No he guided them over his bare skin slicked with water and soap suds. “Touch me Keira. Touch me.” His words were husky, low, trembling with shaky, hot desire. “I have wanted this since the first day we met. Your touch.” He confessed looking down at her docile and demure beauty. “There is something about you. I cannot place my finger on it but it calls to me that is why I requested your presence.” The shower was now filled with steam, It swirled around the pair, hot water enveloped them in the downpour of a generous shower head. Hennessy’s hands guided hers along his body, caressing the tense muscles along his neck and shoulders. Along his toned, lengthy torso, over stomach muscles that clenched tight under her touch. He ghosted her tiny hands along the muscles of his thighs and then let go, he released his grip allowing her the freedom to explore his body. “Know me Keira. Touch me.” Hennessy dipped his head down so close to stealing a kiss but he stalled, watching her, waiting for her to calm in his presence, to let go of even the smallest slice of anxiety, to actually want the press of his lips.

Keira Blackwood: Indeed she was tragically broken into submission. Such a life as she had with Rollo would do that to anyone. Perhaps there was such a broken person that there was no hope for happiness and confidence to shine in her. But, perhaps with the right environment there could be. Now certainly he would take what he truly desired from her. Keira closed her eyes briefly as she was taken into the shower. How the warm water did nothing to ease the tension in her shoulders. Truly, she was so tense with nerves that there was no pleasure pulled from the steamy water. She squeezed her eyes shut against the spray of water, and what she was sure to come next with her body pressed oh so close to his. How he guided her hands! Keira offered no fight and allowed him to guide her hands though she was rigid with anxiety and anticipation. His skin was so slicked with the water that it was easy for her slim fingers to glide over his skin. Each muscle and protrusion of bone became known to her touch. "I am not sure what I did to catch your attention, Hennessy." She admitted. As he guided her fingers towards the bones of his hips, more southern still, she stiffened. Truly, the anticipation was killing her. Surely he would just get this out of the way! If he meant to fuck her then she desired the horrid act to be over with. Truly, the thought of what she feared was to come paralyzed her with fear. Finally he released her. Keira's fingers floated higher. Skilled fingers kneaded his shoulders and splayed out across his chest. Heart beat stilled when he neared her lips. Something clenched at her as she stilled like prey.

Hennessy: “I’m not going to question it. It was fate I suppose.” He offered the slight explanation up candidly while melting into her touch, those tiny fingers massaging out tension and knots in his muscles. But it was hard to ignore the scorching trails of tingles her touch left behind despite her bodies rigid flight or fright reaction. Hennessy wanted to press his lips to hers, his large hands moved to cup her pretty face in them. His thumb ghosting over the bottom pillow of her lip, so juicy and plump he closed the distance and than at the very last second he halted. She was so stiff with fear he knew it was not the right time so he altered his coarse reaching for her hand he held it up slightly, deliberately in her line of site and than pressed one, heated kiss to the inside of her palm that was so ardent it would make anyone swoon. Only then did he go about the daunting task of easing her anxiety, he chose to grab the bar of soap and lather her up. “I know it’s bloody hard for you. I can see that. But breath.” He whispered the words before turning her away from him, his wide, warm hands moving suds and water along her skin. Hennessy dug his fingers into her tiny shoulders expertly massaging out any knot that got in his way. He caressed her arms lightly, and then trailed his fingers between the moon phases tattooed along her spine. He lost himself there for a spot of time. Swirling through the waxing and waning phases that earned a pleased smile from him for the ocean moved tides to the rhythm of the moon. Once again he reminded himself -it was fate. He trailed his fingers over the generous curve of her derrière pausing to cup the swells ever so slowly. His hands sailed south down her long tanned legs, my gods her skin was heavenly. So richly caramel and tan compared to his creamy white pallor, they contrasted beautifully in his eyes. Hennessy snaked his arms around her waist, pulling he against him wanting nothing more than the skin to skin contact. He moved to take the brunt of the steamy water, still holding onto her his head resting on her shoulder for a moment before he pressed a kiss there. It started with just one and then it turned into two, three, four and he could hear the storm buzzing in his ears. Low claps of thunder threatening his resolve, hold it together man.

Keira Blackwood: How could one ever truly know what fate held in store? Fate was a cruel mistress to Keira. Had it been fate that ordained for Rollo to become alpha? With his father gone, he had gained the ability to do as he pleased to the pack. Freya had lost all sense of what little safety she had when he had been alive. Had fate decided she was to suffer under Rollo's abuse for years? No, it was simply too hard to think that fate decided the life she had lived. Her fingers glided over his slippery skin and she tried her best to make her movements enjoyable for him. Surely, it seemed as if it was enjoyable for him. Even with the sound of water splattering against them, she could hear his small intakes of breath. Perhaps that was a relief in itself that she was succeeding at pleasing him. Large hands cupped her cheeks and caused her to halt her own movements. As he came closer, Keira knew what he wanted and squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. Kisses had not been enjoyable for her before, they were bruising and cruel. Yet, the assault never came. Keira opened her eyes when he took her hand. How her lips parted as her gaze was swallowed by him. The kiss was so gentle, yet so passionate she was knocked senseless. How could a kiss be so gentle? Were they not unpleasant things? Keira flinched as he spoke and broke the silence against the water. How could she breathe when she feared that any moment he would fuck her? Keira only knew pain and abuse from such things, truly it was hard for her to comprehend that there could be another way. "I do not think I can. The anticipation is killing me. Please, can you fuck me now instead of forcing me to wait? I do not think I can stand this and the pain that will come from it." Keira blurted out in fear. How her anxiety was making her sick! Truly, she thought he would be just as cruel as Rollo when he fucked her. Surely, Hennessy could sense the trauma. Yet, once more she found herself startled by the gentleness he was able to display to her. An animal who only knew the cruel hand of a beating was constantly surprised when shown any kindness. Try as she might, she found slight enjoyment in the feeling of his fingers massaging at her tense muscles. How talented he was! Despite her fear, she found herself relaxing ever so slowly under his touch. So gentle - so careful. How she shivered despite the warmth of the spray of water! His fingers on her spine caused her breath to catch in her throat in the most delicious manner. How wonderful, how heavenly a gentle touch could feel. Keira was not aware how starved she was for such touches until the moment he gently kissed her shoulders. Once more her eyes shut, but out of pleasure not fear this time. Could pleasure really be obtained from having one so close? So starved of this treatment, she moaned lowly in pleasure.

Hennessy: Hennessy chose to not answer her, those words were blurted out in a place of stand still fear. He would not enable them. They would cease to exist. They would become an afterthought if his determination had anything to say about it. His caresses became more sensual by the second and he did not miss her reactions; she began to melt under his press, to relax. Her tingly shivers, the hitching of her breath, the sight of her eyes fluttering closed and her little, sweet moan of pleasure. That was it, her moan. The ignition, the spark that set Hennessy off on a coarse. His lips continued down her arm of which he lifted slightly in the air with one hand. He drew a long line of the softest kisses pausing at her wrist to land a hungrier kiss with enough pressure he could swear he felt her pulse beating rapidly under his passion. Hennessy then moved to her opposite shoulder, planting several kisses there before moving down her arms length. The attention spent on the opposing arm ended with another aforementioned kiss at her wrist. His hands rested gently on her hips before inching forward and pulling her body against his leaving very little to the imagination as to how aroused he was becoming. Hennessy sunk his long fingers in her hair and panted at how luxuriously soft her locks were before he pushed it to the side and planted his kiss on the back of her neck. His hands drifted over the flat softness of her stomach holding her to him with worshiping caresses while his lips explored the crook of her neck. First a tender string of kisses, then his mouth opened to flicker his tongue here and there, teasing for he was the Master of anticipation. Once he found a sensitive spot he latched on, his kiss shifted. It got hotter, a little wilder, sort of possessive, he claimed with his mouth skin that probably never felt the sensations he was performing judging by her reactions. Keira was eliciting so many cravings from within Hennessy he found the need for balance even more so important with her.

Keira: His silence did little to ease her fear and panic. The silence was worse than him alerting her of when he would finally fuck her. In Keira’s mind there was no act of sex that did not go hand in hand with pain. Every time Rollo had fucked her had been cruel and painful. Surely this was the way the act was all the time? Fear and panic still kept an iron clad hold on her. Yet she slowly eased degrees down in her fear. There still was an underlying layer of fear that would never leave. Though it was marked by large strides his ability to get her to relax as much as he did. Truly his gentle kisses and touches felt like heaven! How he kissed along her body! Keira had never witnessed nor experienced so many kisses in her life. He adored each inch of her body. How he never tired of kissing her body amazed her. Surely his touches would grow less kind? Though he never tired of any of it. How wonderful it all felt! But all too soon she was reminded once more of perhaps her only purpose. His hard erection pressed into her ass. Keira felt the cold tendrils of fear seize her once more. Yet he still tortured her with the waiting! Keira did not relax just yet, even as he played with her hair. It did feel terribly good, yet the feeling of his erection sent a wave of trauma over her. But the kisses! Once more he seized every inch of her skin. No where on her neck was safe from his lavish attention. If she could shift her hips away from his erection and close her eyes she could take pleasure in his attention once more.

Hennessy1: Hennessy had other plans, he moved her forward up to the wall one slow step after the other. Once there His hand on her shoulder gently turned her to face him, her back now against the steam slicked tiled shower. His eyes seemed bluer than normal shifting to a radiant hue that rivaled the oceans most secret depths, this happened when he was far too excited. He drank in the sight of her caramel skin covered in warm, water droplets slipping over her curves. His hands moved to cup her face but no kiss came at the last second he slowly shifted his coordinates. His kiss found her neck, trailing down to her attractive collar bone. All lined with kisses meant to worship a goddess. His head dipped lower still while he kept his hands planted on the wall, her nestled between his toned arms. His tongue slid out and he painted a line right through the swells of her breasts and then he planted several kisses atop the generous swells, his hot breath panting. No! Spilling over her skin before he swirled his tongue around a very tightened nipple. Hennessy’s mouth drank her in, he suckled her entire nipple rolling his tongue around it even giving it a drag from his teeth when it hardened. He repeated the attention upon the other breast, sucking and flicking her nipple with his tongue all across her skin. His movements slow, pent up, he could barely handle the buzzing static in his mind. The Storm. Gods, he wanted her. Wanted to sink into her, in more ways than one. Hennessy wondered what she would sound like moaning, panting, saying his name? These thoughts caused him to drop to one knee before her his face pressed to her thigh, his heated kisses traveling upward. Up further still his body shuddered the moment he laid eyes on the most sacred of places. He could not take it anymore he had to have her. Now! His kiss came to her mound, one solitary press while his large hand slid between her willowy legs, opening her up to him. Hennessy took one long, dramatic lick, the first lick of her while looking up at her to see the expressions awash on her pretty face. His hands moved to trail along her thighs, the softest touches from the pads of his elegant fingers all the while his tongue spread her lips apart exposing every secret inch of flesh to him. He groaned out loud against her mound, she tasted so God damn good. Hennessy sucked at her lips, trailed his tongue along her folds, kissed her clit, swirled and flicked working her into a frenzy of pleasure. His hand held onto her right leg, he pushed it to the side and then brought the limb to rest over his shoulder successfully opening her up to him even more now. His kisses turned stormy, wild, hungry. He moaned against her clit before rolling it between his teeth in a gentle nibble of sin. He breathed her in hard, his own erection leaking from the acts he was performing. His tongue, oh my God his tongue knew no bounds and with her spread wide open for him like that he sought entrance. Flickering inside of her pussy one moment only to slid in as far as he could push his rather large tongue into her grip. He alternated this rhythm, tongue fucking her one moment and in the next consuming her sensitive clit. His fingers dig into her ass cheek and thighs holding onto her while he pushed her to the edge of a stormy oblivion of pleasure.

Keira: This was it. Despite his many gentle touches to assure her of the opposite, Keira was so conditioned to expect nothing but the cruel touches. Yet, only gentleness came. Still he continued with his deliciously gentle assault on her body. Keira’s breath caught in her throat. How could she react any other way to such touches she was starved for? Keira had never experienced such touches in her life. Intimate acts were always associated with pain. How blue his eyes were! Keira lost herself in their depths while he lowered down her body. She moaned so as he lavished attention to her breasts! So different from the claws and instruments of pain she was familiar with. Yet nothing could have prepared her for the sensations she experienced when his tongue found her clit. Keira screamed in pleasure. Typically dark eyes burned bright amber. How he pulled out the animal within! Such a strong force to pull it out with the spell on her. Before he had even reached the middle of his attention, she came. Such a force she had never experienced before! No orgasm she gave herself could compare. Keira’s back slid down the slick wall as she came. How lucky it was her leg was supported by his shoulder for her legs were rubber. Yet he did not slow. Quite the opposite in fact. His attention became more passionate and frenzied. Spots appeared in her vision. “Hennessy.” His name was a prayer to whatever being delivered him to give her such pleasure. “Hennessy.” It was a blessing on her lips as she moaned once more. If he continued she would cum again. And yet again. And again. He truly would deliver her to such pleasure she had never experienced before.

Hennessy: Her scream of startled pleasure, the way her eyes shifted color; Hennessy drank it all in a stickler for the little details. He had a feeling she had a supernatural edge but that display confirmed his suspicions. She melted for him, she melted so dammed beautifully for him his cock pulsed when a rush of wetness met his tongue and he moaned out load at the taste of her pleasure. He felt her weight on his shoulders and they tensed like granite, holding her upright, where he wanted her. His tongue pushed and pulled, he lapped at her clit and then he heard his name leave her lips like that. Good girl. His whole body went tense and he groaned out loud and that was when the Water came to its Master. He called, it pooled at his feet a stream rising up her legs caressing and swirling, mimicking it’s Masters sensual caresses. He raised a hand over her stomach sending the water to circle her breasts in a gentle motion. It circled and moved, the warmth and wetness making her skin glisten when he looked up at her. Those intensely blue eyes keen on watching her crumble for him. When she said his name again his full lips met her clit in a hungry kiss, pressing down hard, sucking in and not letting go, he moved his face up no down, back and forth giving her divine friction like the fiend that he truly was knowing it would shatter her. His hands gripped at her thighs squeezing tightly, he fought back his own body burning for a release and sent to the water to torment her tiny, nipples hard and erect for him. The water cycloned around them, pinching with a gentle warmth while it’s Master gazed up at her once again and then one of his hands found the hot, rod of flesh between his legs and he began to stroke himself wildly. His groans got deeper and vibrated her clit with another sensation under the press of his ardent, feverishly hot kisses.

Keira: How little it took to send her over the edge! Perhaps it was because she was so starved from any pleasure from anyone. Keira could not contain her first scream of pleasure. How the orgasm rocked through her! Perhaps he was surprised by how quickly she came. What would he think of that so soon after one touch she came? Her body slumped from the force of the first orgasm. Yet, he was not done with his assault of attention. Keira closed her eyes as he sent her shaking body to another orgasm. Yet it was the feeling of gentle caresses that felt inhuman that caused her to open her eyes. How her chest heaved while the water swirled up her body! Keira moaned once more as they teased and squeezed her nipples. This was his magical ability to have water at his control. Yet, she had never seen anything like this. “Hennessy.” Keira moaned his name as a plea to never stop. She moaned such a symphony as he continued his assault on her. His touches assaulted every pleasure center in her body and overwhelmed her in such a delicious manner. Was this what others experienced? Was this truly the pleasure that sex could bring? Though, Keira could not understand why he would desire to make her feel such? Keira reached down and tangled her fingers in his wet tresses. What a look of adorning lust she gave him and moaned his name over and over. His tempo sped up and once more she was pushed towards her second orgasm. Keira screamed again. Her eyes rolled back and her wet body shuddered from the force of yet another orgasm. He could easily send her to her third orgasm with the slightest touches. Already she could feel it building from his vibrations.

Hennessy: Hennessy sank into all of the sensations he was feeling, everything in his being was tightly coiled, strained, about to erupt. Her tiny hand slipped in his thick mess of curls and Hennessy nearly lost control! It was a pivotal moment, she touched him of her own free will and the way his name slipped from her lips again and again pushed him over the edge. His body trembled slightly, beads of sweat marked his forehead, his concentration on the act at hand was fierce but it was time. Time to let it all go. He trailed his fingers over the smooth head of his prick, squeezed and stroked himself to a right panting mess of a man all the while his face buried between her things. He couldn’t take it anymore, his name being moaned -like that. Did things to him and her voice replayed over and over in his head, he drowned in it sinking to the bottom in a pool of his own repressed sins. Hennessy moved to rise, as did the water. Gravity was no Master here, it was him. Droplets swirled and rose upward vibrating with tremors of power, it was a grand sight to see but his gaze was anchored onto Keira. He held her fast and to the tiled wall, clearly her stupor was purely blissful and that look on her pretty little face said it all. Hennessy nuzzled his face against hers, wanting to kiss her but never doing so. He hovered close, ghosting but never fully claiming. His lips were still damp with the juices of her freed pleasure and he was quick to lick them savoring the taste, making damn sure she saw him doing so. Hennessy’s eyes were now heavy with lust, he swam in sin while his hand moved to cradle hers. His impressive length laid in her palm and he shuddered before closing his grip around her hand letting her fingers grip his thick girth. His breaths became labored, while he guided her hand on how to draw out his own release. Quickly. It would only took a few strokes he was hanging on by a thread after everything that had transpired. Hennessy’s other hand moved to cup her mound, his slid his fingers along her swollen lips, grinding her with friction from his palm to his finger tips. His body tensed, the water vibrated spastically, and then he came. A thick gush of white cream spilled from his cock, which pulsed in her tiny little hand. “G’dammit!” He blurted out loud as lacy strings of his cum painted her thigh and hip. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her shoulder breathing in air before whispering her name. “Keiraaa.” He rumbled before dropping his mouth to the graceful arch of her shoulder where he bite down. Not hard, just enough for her to feel the indention's of his teeth for it was a feral act that crept into his bones. Staking territory. One last spurt of cum was released from his body following his indecent behaviors and he stilled next to her for a few moments. The water settled with him sinking down to the ground in a flurry of raindrops his hold on the element relinquished. It was then Hennessy took a step back with Keira in tow. His eyes moving to capture hers his were, dreamy, melty and steeped in bliss. Hennessy guided them back under the spray of the shower to remove all traces of their passions, once clean he turned the knobs off and proceeded to guide her out of the shower. His hands never leaving her skin, not once. He held onto her and reached for a large, luxuriously soft navy blue towel and wrapped both of their bodies in it. He toweled her off, then himself before wrapping the towel solely around her, tossing her arm over his shoulder and sweeping her right off her feet. The tall, British Professor carried her out into the Master bedroom.

Keira: Keira had never experienced such pleasure like this before. How did others experience such pleasure many times? His attention did not waver as Keira once more. Three times. Three more times than she had ever experienced from anyone else in her life. Keira came once more and screamed. All strength left her body. Keira slid down the tile and only remained upright due to his hold on her body. Every ounce of energy left her. There was no more strength in her shuddering form. How the water moved as he stood up! Keira could only slide and hold herself to the tiled walls. Yet he moved forward and held her once more. Keira’s eyes were heavy from the over stimulation he had put her through with the three orgasms. As he took her hand, Keira only moved through the motions he wanted. Yet as she took hold of his length she understood. Keira moaned lowly and stroked him to his completion. He had given her such wonderful sensations she needed to repay him. Keira never tired of the way the water moved to his emotions. She fell into him when he came and lightly kissed at his cheek. Such a big step for her! How wonderful the water felt when he guided her into the stream once more. Keira closed her eyes and let herself sink in the pleasure of feeling his fingers wash them. How wonderful it all felt! She truly was in such a blissful state of over stimulated pleasure while he took her from the shower. Keira easily sank into the bliss of him taking care of her. In one rush of warmth he took her to the bedroom. Keira could not speak. Her head was full of cotton and her whole body was jelly. Closing her eyes, she settled against his chest.

Hennessy: Hennessy swore he could still feel those little kisses she planted on his cheek when she assisted him to his ending. He’d never forget it for he knew it was a massive breakthrough for her, even the way she held him in her tiny hand, her little moans. The insanely hot way his name sounded spilling from her lips. All of it replayed in his head while he made his way to the large king size bed in the Master suite. He held Keira tightly, his muscular arms keeping her snug to him, safe. Protected even. Carefully he climbed into the plush bed and laid Keira down right smack in the middle. Through the foggy high he was in he still moved with intent and removed the towel from her body, tossing it to the side. He reached for a blanket he always kept on his bed; black faux fur with comfortable fleece on the inside. Hennessy snuggled close to her, spooning, molding himself to the curves of her body, wanting more than anything to remain in the state of touching her. The black furry blanket was pulled up over them and he buried his face in her chocolate hued hair. Breathing her in before pressing random kisses against the creaminess of her skin. A long arm was wrapped around her tiny waist and the British Professor held her close, he had a feeling that deep down he could easily get used to this. “Stay here, in my bed tonight Keira.” It was a throaty whisper, raspy and full of contentment.

Keira: There was something so deliciously wonderful in letting go. Keira had never had someone care for her in such a manner. It was so wonderful to feel safe, protected and taken care of. Perhaps she did not know that this was called aftercare, and that she desired it so. But, it certainly had been a big event for her to do all that she had. To orgasm like that many times had been a first. But to enjoy the touch of another was a massive step for her. It may be small to others but for her to touch his hair like she had and to kiss his cheek had been massive first steps for her. Perhaps Hennessy was aware of this. How wonderful the bed felt! Keira was so sleepy with the heavy weight of pleasure and bliss. His bed was so terribly soft and she grew so warm when he snuggled against her and covered them with the blanket. How wonderful his kisses felt! Keira sighed happily and closed her eyes. She could not speak and only softly murmured back an affirmation that she would stay. It was not long at all before she fell asleep.

The End.

#tw: abuse #tw: rape #tw: sexualabuse #| Mentions Of | #keirablackwoodxreborn‌ #that was a lotta writing and I think these should count as activity xD

[nctexto]

Supersonic - Doyoung - Halloween Drabble

Genre/warnings: superhero au, angst, some blood, death.  Summary: You and a team of superheros have to save everyone from the evil alien creatures called the Erats.  Word count: 1645

*beep* *beep* *beep*

Three long, booming sounds echo throughout the base. You glance up from your book and over to your boyfriend, Doyoung, who was now standing up from doing push-ups.

“Guess we need to go save the world again love,” he mumbles, making his way over to you. “I’ll go grab the boys; you head into the conference room and we’ll meet you there.”

“Hurry up with it; don’t want to keep the boss waiting,” you chuckle, giving your boyfriend a quick peck.

“Hurry up? I’m not called Supersonic for nothing!” he giggles back, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before speeding off to find the rest of the crew. Doyoung always had a way of making every situation enjoyable, which was one of the reasons you fell in love with him.

As you jog the distance to the conference room, you run into one of your best friends, Johnny, who was already adorned in his red and orange suit. Johnny was always one of your favorites to work alongside of, with his ability to create fire out of nothing; he was always a pleasure to hang around. Not to mention his quirky personality which always provided in laughs.

“Why hello there miss bandages!” he yells, pulling you into a hug. You quickly shrug off the tall boy, giving him a gentle shove away.

“Miss bandages? Just because I always need to wrap bandages around all the burns you give yourself, doesn’t mean you can just give me a new name,” you scold. “Besides, it’s not my fault the only thing I’m good at is stitching up you morons when you get hurt!”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down (y/n). I was just joking. You know I appreciate all that you do,” Johnny defends. Giving him a soft punch in the arm, you laugh and follow him to the conference room.

Entering the conference room, you see the rest of the team situated around the tables. You see Sicheng, aka, Frostbite. Sicheng has the powers of water and ice manipulation. Aside of Sicheng is Yuta, or as we call him, Thunderbolt, who has the ability of creating and manipulating lighting. Beside him is Doyoung, Supersonic, who is fast and strong. He can run at speeds faster than light, plus throws a wicked punch. Johnny, also known as Flames, takes a seat on the other side of Sicheng, leaving you to sit aside of your boyfriend. You weren’t like the guys; you didn’t have any magical powers, but, having grown up as a doctor’s daughter, you knew how to stitch up some cuts and help with minor wounds, which is why the team wanted you around. Not to mention Doyoung loved having you within reach at all moments, or as he liked to say, you were easier to protect when you’re by his side.

Once you all are settled, the boss, Taeyong strides into the room, eyed glued to his phone, probably reading information he has been given. “Alright team,” Taeyong starts, looking up at the 5 of you, “we have received news of more attacks from the Erats downtown. Apparently, these aliens have found more troops and weapons to fight with, and they need to be stopped. Nobody is safe until they are taken out. They’ve been killing and terrorizing enough citizens now; today we are stopping them. You are going to split into two teams. Team one is going to be Sicheng, Yuta, and (y/n). I want you three to come in from the north side, across the river. Sicheng, Yuta, I want you two to help get (y/n) to 13th Street; there are many people who are hurt and need attention. Doyoung, Johnny, I want you two to come in from the south. You’ll be the first ones to run into the Erats, so start taking them out. Sicheng and Yuta, once you drop off (y/n) and make sure she’s good, go help the other two. Don’t hold back anything today team; I’m sick of these bastards coming to our planet and killing our people. Take them out. I’m sending some of the other teams to other cities that are being attacked. Any questions?” he asked. All of us shook our heads no; we’ve learned there was no point in ever asking questions. “Wonderful. Then I wish you all good luck and I will see you tonight when you all report back.” With that he strode back out of the room.

“Well, let’s get going everyone,” Yuta sighs, standing up. “Come on Sicheng and (y/n); we’ve got a trek to get to north of the city. I’ll meet you two by my car.” Sicheng nods and follows Yuta out of the room. Doyoung gets up from his chair, pulling you along with him. He wraps you in his embrace and holds you tight.

“Please be care babe; I don’t want to lose you,” he mutters, kissing your forehead.

“Don’t worry about me love, I’ll be fine!” you reply, pecking him on the lips. “I’m going to go before Yuta gets mad. I’ll see you later dear!” You wave goodbye to Doyoung and Johnny, wishing them good luck as you rush out of the room to get to Yuta and Sicheng.

-

Soon enough, you, Yuta, and Sicheng find yourselves at 13th street. Looking around, you see all the chaos the Erats have caused: there are fires burning, buildings collapsing, and people injured.

Sicheng runs his hand through his hair. “I should probably deal with some of these fires. Thunderbolt, go find Supersonic and Flames.” Yuta nods and heads off to find the others. Sicheng turns to you. “Okay Healer, go help people. Good luck!” he finishes, turning around to go face the fires.

“Thanks Frostbite; good luck to you too!” you call after him as he runs away. You turn around and bolt over to the nearest injured person who is yelling out in pain. “Hello ma’am! I’m here to help you, please let me take care of you!”

-

About two hours later, the people around you taken care of. You had helped disinfect and stitch up so many people, while getting healthier people to help get them away to safer places. Things were finally calming down.

That is until Yuta showed up.

“(Y/n)! Finally I found you! I need you to come with me, now!” he screams, grabbing your arm and sprinting off in the other direction, dragging you along.

“Yuta, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?” You question while trying to keep up with him.

He turns his head around to look at you and gives a sorry look. “I’m so sorry. It’s Doyoung. He needs you right now. Please come on!”

“What? Yuta? What happened? Is he okay?” you ask, trying to get Yuta to stop moving for two seconds, but it wasn’t working. “Yuta, please! Is he okay?!” you yell, yanking his arm, finally causing him to halt.

He sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know. It looks really bad, but we need to go now,” he finishes, looking at you with pain. Nodding your head, you turn and continue running off with him.

After what felt like forever, you two finally reach a small building. Yuta leads you inside where you hear voices yelling, but one voice stands out above the others. You burst into a room to see Johnny and Sicheng hovering around a body, Doyoung’s body. Doyoung is doubled over, crying out in pain, breaking your heart. You rush over to him, shoving Johnny out of the way.

“Doyoung! Oh my gosh. What the heck happened?!” you yell. You take a second to look at his body; the majority of it looks like it normally does after a fight: covered in scratches and bruises, but his side is a different story. Sicheng is kneeling aside of him with all sorts of fabrics pressed against his side, but it didn’t seem to be helping. The puddle of blood beneath him kept getting larger and larger. You could see Doyoung’s skin was slowing draining of color and life.

“I – I – I got h – hit by one o – of the Erats. M – my side hurts,” he stammers out in pain.

“Baby, I know. Let me take a look at it,” you try to calmly reply. Moving aside of Sicheng, you remove all the fabrics he has pushed against the wound, and stare at the gaping hole in his side for a second. Blood oozing out at a consistent rate.

“Doyoung, love, I - I don’t know how to fix this,” you whisper to him, while looking up at his face. “Half your side is missing and you’re bleeding out. There’s nothing I can do,” you finish, barely getting the words out.

“I – I know baby. Ju – just be here w – with me,” he pants, reaching for your hand. Taking his hand, you gently cup the side of his face with your other hand.

“Hey, hey, remember the day when we first met?” you ask, gently stroking his cheek, tears forming in your eyes. “I almost was hit by a car, but you sped in a pulled me out of the way,” you softly speak to him, gently moving your hand to run through his matted and sweaty hair. “You pulled me into your arms and said that I was lucky you were around? I’ve always been lucky to have you around baby. I’ve never been scared or afraid of anything. I love you so much. I always have, and always will,” you finish, tears now rolling down your cheeks, listening to his breathing getting slower and slower, seeing him nod his head ever so slightly to your words.

A few seconds later, Doyoung gasps, opening his eyes to find your face. “I – I love you too,” he stammers out. His eyes flutter shut as his breathing finally ceases.

#Doyoung #nct #nct imagines #nct writings #nct fic #nct 127 #nct u #my writings #yikes sorry for my inability to name things hahaha #also an fyi - this is an edit/remake of something i wrote on an old blog of mine #for a completely non-kpop fandom #i just changed the people and fixed a lot of grammar and some things #anyway i had really liked this when i posted it originially hahahah #i like the concept #but when i reread it my gosh it was shitty ieabfuwecds #so i fixed it and made it a bit better (hopefully) #there were lots of stupid spelling and grammar errors and stuff haha #this is kind of halloween ish... yeah? hahaha #anyway yeah i hope you liked it

[waywardnewcomer]

Wasted Opportunities

A/N: This is my first actual character fic so I hope you enjoy, also thank you for all the love on Reunited. You don’t understand how happy it makes me and how much it makes my heart swell. This is a little AU fic for yesterday’s episode.

Summary: Dean finds their dead sister in apocalypse world.

Warnings: A bit of swearing, angst, fluff, character death, Spoilers for 13x18 - like some of it actually comes from the script 

Pairings: Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Masterlist

Dean shook his head after they’d arrived through the rift. He looked over at Ketch and chuckled as he looked around in awe.

“Well, here we are.” He spoke as the thunder rumbled in the distance.

“You do know where we are, don’t you? We only have 24 hours before,”

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute. We just got spin-cycled through space and time, okay? And yes, this is different than my last drop by. I thought you wanted to save yourself?” Dean sighed angrily, trying to get his bearings.

“I thought I could help.” Ketch spoke.

“What?” Dean asked gritting his teeth.

“To find the boy.” He spoke. “And your mother. She’s in danger, I owe her that.” He added like an afterthought.

“You know if she sees you she’ll probably kill you, again.” Dean sighed, pursing his lips.

“Perhaps, but you don’t know what’s out there. Would back up be so bad?”

“If you’re the back up then yes.” Dean snapped.

They were interrupted with a loud bang and a flutter of wings.

“Get down.” Dean grumbled, shoving Ketch behind a tree and crouching next to him.

They sat listening to the angels talk, ripping off their hoods one by one and the angel’s killing them. When they took off the last hood Dean immediately stood up, gun cocked, and breath hitched.

“Dean get down.” Ketch whisper-yelled, pulling on his arms.

“No way. That’s my sister.” Dean mumbled in awe, coming out of his hiding place and waiting for the perfect shot.

You looked up at the angel before you and closed your eyes ready for the blinding light, and your inevitable death.

“Wait.” An angel behind him said, holding his arm. “She knows where they are, her mother and the Nephilim. She’ll be useful.”

“Very well.” He muttered. “Take her to be tortured.”

“You’re not taking her anywhere.” Deans rough voice shouted as he shot the angels holding you.

You looked behind you at the older man and ran to safety behind him.

“And who are you?” The angel asked moving closer.

“Her brother, jackass.” He grumbled shooting him, with Ketch shooting the other angels.

“You’re not my brother?” You asked the strange man confused after you let out a sigh of relief. “Who are you?” You wrestled the man, taking his gun and holding it up to his face.

“Y/N, I promise I’m your brother. Well I was, in another world. You died.” He mumbled sadly, with his hands in the air.

“My Mom and Dad didn’t have any other kids. Just me.” You narrowed your eyes and cocked the gun.

“Your mother is Mary Winchester; your father is John Winchester. Your Mom is good friends with Bobby Singer and he is leading the resistance. Your Mom came back from another world a few weeks ago with a Nephilim, Jack.” Ketch spoke trying to get you to lower the gun.

“I’m Dean Winchester. I come from a different universe, one where there isn’t a freaking apocalypse because me and Sammy are there to stop it. You used to be too.” Dean spoke gritting his teeth, it hurt so much to look at his sister and her not recognise him whatsoever.

“Why should I believe you?” You adjusted your grip on the gun and raised your eyebrows.

“Well other than me just saving your life, the rift is right there.” Dean pointed over to the glowing orange rift, making your eyes go as wide as saucers.

You lowered the gun slowly and looking to the mans piercing green eyes. You moved closer to him and traced his jawline with your finger. Hmmm… he kinda looked like you, he had your Dad’s jawline at least.

“Okay fine. What do you mean I used to be there?” You asked suspiciously, handing him back his gun.

“You, erm.” He spoke, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. “You died Y/N. You died in my arms, a vampire drank you dry during a hunt. It was my fault you shouted at me to come help but I went to help Sammy instead.”

“Sammy you take the back, I’ll take the front with Y/N.” Dean spoke looking at his siblings for confirmation.

Once they had nodded their heads and gotten into position, Dean counted to 3 and kicked the front door down. You followed behind him, machete in your hand and cautiously looking around.

“Look out!” You shouted at Dean as a vamp came swinging from above him.

You took out all the surrounding vampires as it turned into a full out war. Sam and Dean were fighting with alpha vampire when you doubled over to catch your breath.

“A Winchester.” The vampire behind you snarled.

You kicked behind you to send the vampire flying backwards before turning around to land in a few good punches until the vamp held you up by your throat.

“Sam! Dean! A little help here!” You choked out looking over at Dean helping Sam kill the alpha.

“A little busy Y/N.” Dean shouted back.

You managed to flip it back around and wrestle with the vampire once more until you felt teeth sinking into your back. You screamed in agony, the blood draining out of your body. The vampire in front of you sunk their teeth into your neck, draining more of your blood making your legs crumble beneath you.

“Y/N!” You heard Sam scream once they’d killed the alpha.

“Oh shit.” Dean grunted angrily, he killed the last two vampires with one swipe of his machete and slid down beside your lifeless body.

“Oh god.” Sam choked back the tears.

“It’s okay. I’ll b- be with Mo-om.” You choked out blood, the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Dean whispered, kissing your forehead. He sat beside your body, allowing the tears to weep out of his eyes as he sat and held you as you took your last breath. His body racked with sobs as he held his little sister close. He swiped your eyelids closed with his hands and whispered; “It’s all my fault.”

“Oh.” You muttered looking down. “Well I guess I forgive you?”

“I don’t want you to.” Dean muttered. “It was my fault, I need to live with that.”

You looked over at your brother sadly. You may not have known him for longer than an hour, but you hated to see him hurt. Maybe your other universe self and you had some of the same thoughts and feelings.

You showed Dean and Ketch one of the bases for the angels and helped them take it down, showing them the place your Mom had been last. You had been separated from them for a while, due to you being on a mission to bring down the angel base in the North East corner. Bobby had planned to meet you in two days’ time in your secret spot in the North West. You walked Dean back to his rift answering all his questions about your Mom and Jack.

“Y/N I want you to come back with me.” Dean sighed, looking at how thin the rift had become.

“I can’t I’m meeting Bobby in two days.” You explained.

“Y/N, I want to keep you safe this time. I don’t want to be responsible for your death again.” Dean walked over to you, holding both of your arms.

“Dean. This is my world, this is my fault. You’re the saviour in your world, right? I’m the one here and I can’t leave them alone.” You smiled giving your brother a quick hug. “I promise, once the resistance beats Michael, I’ll come back with you, wherever you want. But for now, I need to stay here.”

“I can’t just leave you here.” Dean grunted angrily.

“I’ll stay.” Ketch spoke up.

“What?”

“I’ll stay, protect her until she can get to Bobby, and help fight until you can get back to this world with your brother and your angel.” Ketch spoke sincerely.

“I don’t trust you.” Dean narrowed his eyes.

“If he tries anything, I’ll shoot him.” You stated.

Dean looked into your eyes knowing you would protect yourself at all costs. He sighed deeply and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, comforting him but making you feel a bit weird and loved? It was a new feeling for you. Dean looked at you one last time before he had to go through the rift to escape the incoming angels.

“Dean? Where’s Mom? Where’s Jack?” Sam asked as soon as his brother returned through the rift.

“Dean are you okay?” Cas asked, noticing his hunched exterior and the tears lacing his eyes.

“I saw Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked confused.

“Y/N’s alive in apocalypse world.” Dean spoke looking at his brother.

“Fuck!” Sam shouted flinging the paper off the library table in rage.

“What did I miss?” Dean asked looking between his brother and the angel.

“Gabriel left.” Cas explained.

“What do you mean he left?” Dean asked angrily.

“We asked him to help and he said no.” Sam gritted his teeth.

“He doesn’t get to say no! We still have his grace, though, right?” Dean asked as Sam and Cas looked at each other awkwardly. “Sam?”

“We uh – we used his grace to heal him.” Sam muttered angry at himself.

“So it – it’s gone? It’s all gone.” Deans voice rose higher with anger. “So if it’s gone then that means that we can’t open that door again. If we can't open the door, then I should've never come back! Son of a bitch!” Dean slammed his hand down on the table and swiped the rest of the books off the table. Cas and Sam looked at him, hating the fact he was hurting, and it was their fault.

“Every time! Every time we get close, it always falls apart. Every fucking time.”

Part Two 

Forever Tags (tagging people who have asked and people who I think would enjoy this fic, let me know if you want adding or removing) @creativedogs  @a-magey  @natashacamillaus  @not-jk-rowling  @captainsherlockwinchester110283  @sleepylunarwolf @claitynroberts @bellero @winchesters-favorite-girl

#dean winchester #sam winchester #winsister #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #arthur ketch #castiel #spn fic #spn family #supernatural fic #season 13 spoilers #spoilers #spn spoilers #au #sister!reader #sister!winchester #spn 13 x 18 spoilers #spn fluff #spn angst #spn au #character death #reader death #vampires

[imagine-loki]

Winter's Hearts

TITLE: Winter’s Hearts CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Four/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being Loki’s old friend/Lover in Asgard, but you left for Earth a long time ago. For all he knows, you might be dead, but you’re still alive and you’ve been working with SHIELD and/or the Avengers. RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3: Click here

     You leaned against your closed door trying to fight back emotions. It had been so hard to tell Loki what you had, and there was still 150 years of backstory that you hadn’t been able to tell him yet. The revelations you had given him had been hard enough. You had a feeling he’d be breaking Frigga’s spell on his own, or possibly asking for your help to do it. You knew you could and you’d gladly break that damn spell for him. Not that it was Frigga’s fault that it was there. Even she couldn’t disobey Odin’s orders.

    You could only stall for so long. There was one other thing you had to do, so you pushed yourself away from the door. “Jarvis, where’s Thor?” you asked your phone. The AI was limited in the bedrooms.

    “He’s in training room A, Miss,” Jarvis replied.

    “Thanks Jarvis,” you told the AI while you changed into yoga pants and a sports bra, tying your hair back as you left your room. If you were going to talk to Thor in the training room, you knew that you had to be dressed to fight it out with him. He wasn’t going to be pleased either probably. “If Loki happens to come looking for me, please let him know where I went,”

    “Yes, Miss,”

    With that done, you made your way down to the training room. “Hey, Y/N, you ok?” Nat asked as you passed through the living room to grab a couple bottles of water from the fridge.

    You nodded and gave her a tentative smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Loki’s in his room. I need to go talk to Thor, but since he’s down in the training room,“ you gestured to the workout clothes.

    “Do I need to beat some sense into him for you? I know you can’t do it yourself,” that was true, you were duty bound to defend the throne, that did generally keep one from beating sense into said crown-wearer. At least in public. Usually. Shit. You were an awful Valkyrie at times. You beat sense into the boys more than once when they were being stupid.

    You laughed in reply. “I think his mom took care of that. No, I shouldn’t need him actually beaten up. If I do, I’ll call you.” She nodded, accepting your reassurance. “But Thunderhead always forgets to bring water with him when he’s planning on working out,” you held up the water bottles and Nat actually laughed.

    “Thunderhead?”

    “I’ll explain later. I…kinda have to tell him first,” you admitted. You waved to her and headed back to the elevator to head to the lower level where the training room was. Thor was in there working out without a shirt. Of course. You leaned against the doorjamb for a moment, watching before you cleared your throat and announced. “Hey Thunderer,”

    “Valkyrie,” he replied when he paused his drill to look over and see who was interrupting him. You tossed one of the bottles of water his way.

    “You always forget to stay hydrated and I don’t feel like carrying your unconscious ass back to your chambers. Again.” You told him with a smile. He paused then and just stared at you. “How much did your Lady Mother tell you?” you asked as you stepped into the room.

    “She berated me for being rude to you and hinted that things were not as they seemed. She said she could not say more, but that you were not under such constraints,” Thor finally said as he obediently downed the bottle of water. You vanished the empty bottle for him when he was done.

    “That’s true. I’m not. I probably should have told you sooner, but…”

    “I appeared to hate you, so why make it worse?” he suggested. You gave him a small smile. “You and Loki are quite similar after all,” he added in explanation. You inclined your head, giving him that point.

    “So, let me fill you in…” you told him everything that you had told Loki while he just stared in disbelieving shock.

    “You were exiled to protect Loki’s secret?” Thor finally asked. You nodded. “How can I know this is true?” he asked.

    You sighed. “Damn your brother for being the Lord of Lies and making you wary. I can use magic to remove your Lady Mother’s magic, but you wouldn’t trust that I didn’t just meddle with your memories instead. I can tell you 150 years’ worth of old stories, but you don’t remember them, so that won’t help,” you sighed heavily. “I don’t know what I can do to prove my story to you or Loki, and I’m at even more of a disadvantage as you have no reason to trust an exiled Valkyrie.” You fought back tears at his silence. Thor had changed. You all had in 900 years. He still didn’t speak again, so you nodded an extremely informal bow and left the other bottle of water for him. “Whether you believe me or not, you deserved to know, both of you did.” You turned to leave to leave him to his workout.

    “You truly cared for my brother,” Thor finally said softly.

    “I love your brother,” you replied firmly. “That never changed just because the Allfather sent me away.” You left him to his workout and headed back to your room, fighting even more emotions. Today had been trying already.

    You passed Nat in the hall, she was apparently keeping tabs on you. One look at your expression and she went stomping off to bother Thor. “Thor! You were the one who just went on a massive lecture about being nice to Y/N and Loki. Now, you’re making her cry?” Nat demanded as she stormed into the training room to go kick Thor’s ass. You rushed in and grabbed her arm before she could punch him.

    “Natasha, no. It’s not Thor’s fault,” you told her firmly.

    “The hell it’s not,” she growled. “I know you can’t beat sense into him. Let me go and I’ll do it myself,”

    “It’s not his fault. It’s mine. Just leave it alone,” they both looked shocked and hurt at your words. “It’s my fault,” you insisted. “I told him something he didn’t want to hear. We knew each other on Asgard and I reminded him of it, but have no way of proving my story to him. Really, it’s not his fault,” you dragged Nat from the room before she could knock some sense into Thor. She finally relented and went to go beat up something in one of the other training rooms. Based on the sound of pain, you thought it was Clint.

    You used magic to change back into normal clothes, jeans and a t-shirt and headed up to the kitchen to begin making dinner. It wasn’t your turn, but you had to do something to feel useful. So you made an old favorite of Loki’s, choosing absently, but smiling when you realized what you’d chosen. It was an old Asgardian fish dish you hadn’t had in years, but still knew how to make. You had a sub a few ingredients, but it would turn out just fine.

    “What’s for dinner?” Cap asked kindly as the team slowly made their way to the dining room. Bruce was dragging Tony by the arm or he wouldn’t have left his lab. Nat and Thor arrived together, both looking way more bruised than they had an hour ago. You had a feeling they were ‘talking’ out what you had told Thor.

    “A fish dish from back home,” you told Cap. “Did anyone tell Loki it was time for dinner?” you asked the group.

    “I did. He said he wasn’t hungry,” Clint told you as he got the plates out of the cabinet. Cap got the silverware and Bruce got Tony to sit at a chair and not run back to his lab. You served the dinner and saw Thor’s warm smile. He recognized the dish apparently.

    The team chatted and joked and told stories while you ate and everyone praised the wonderful meal. You sat with them through dinner. Cap and Nat cleaned up the kitchen while you made another plate, setting it on a tray with a wine glass of the Asgardian mead Thor had brought back from Asgard, a set of silverware, and a book from the library you knew a certain god would enjoy.

    You carried the tray up to Loki’s room and knocked on the door. “Go away, Thor! I already said I don’t want to hang out with your friends,” Loki growled. You hovered the tray in the air just outside of his door at waist height. You summoned a piece of stationary and a calligraphy pen to write out a quite note in Asgardian.

    The meal is safe. I prepared it and I did not let Thor help. You need to eat something, your highness.

    You signed it with they stylized sigil of your name. The note was formal, but you weren’t brave enough to drop the formality again without getting some indication from him first. Still, you couldn’t help being nice and bringing him dinner. Old habits and duty died hard.

    You knocked again harder, then ducked across the hall into your own room before he swung his door open, roaring at Thor for bothering him again. You could tell the moment he saw the tray. His roars stopped at once. You smiled and fell face first onto your bed, drained from the emotionally exhausting day. You just needed to rest for a minute.

    *

    “Valkyrie?” Thor’s voice came with a knock at your door a short time later. You groaned and got to your feet. You opened the door and stepped just out of reach. You were in pajamas and hadn’t donned your gloves again, so your arms and hands were completely bare and Thor was a toucher. Not maliciously, but he liked physical contact. “You had mentioned that you could remove the magic Mother placed…?” he asked tentatively.

    You nodded. “I can. You trust me to do it?” you asked softly. He gave you a bright smile.

    “I would not besmirch a Valkyrie’s honor by claiming I did not,” he replied. You smirked at that not-quite-an-answer. He’d apparently learned some things from Loki over the years. “Would you-?” he asked finally.

    You nodded again. “Jarvis, can you ask Nat to come to the living room?” you asked.

    “She is already there, Miss,”

    “Thanks,” you were sure to be polite to Jarvis. He was already mad at your ability to hack his systems, especially when you had made sure he couldn’t tell Tony. “I’ll do it, but downstairs,” you told Thor. He nodded and stepped back so you could follow him from the room. You walked downstairs in a companionable silence, reminding you of old times. You gestured to one end of one of the couches and settled on the other. “Telepathy based magic isn’t my strongest. I’m going to need physical contact,” you told him.

    “I thought you couldn’t touch anyone,” Thor interrupted.

    You nodded. “I can’t touch the humans. I didn’t clarify that you have some immunity. I honestly don’t know if you’ll have enough for this. It’s been 900 years since the issue has come up,” you reminded him. “But normal everyday touches on Asgard were perfectly safe,” he nodded, accepting your assessment. You looked over at Nat. “Natasha, we’re going to be playing with complex magic. Can you make sure we’re not interrupted. Unless Thor starts looking too blue, then please interrupt,” she wanted to ask, you saw it in her eyes, but she only nodded. You lifted your hands to Thor’s temples, stopping just before you touched him. “Ready?” you asked.

    “Yes. I wish to know the truth,” he told you firmly. You nodded and placed your fingertips against his temples as you dove into your magic, staring into his eyes both of you unblinking lost to the trance of power.

    Frigga’s magic was deep and everywhere in his mind. It took effort to find every ounce of it. She had done her job well, but also had seemed to lay a trail for you to be able to undo what she had done.

    She had known.

    You don’t know how long you worked, how long you sat like that, how much power you were draining into this working. It was a lot, but this was also a working that couldn’t be interrupted. Not without risking damage to his mind. You didn’t see his memories, except for the very last one that you broke free of Frigga’s spell. It was the day you were exiled. Thor had watched from the entrance to the Bifrost, off to the side where he could watch and not be seen. He had watched as you and Loki had spilled your hearts and tears. He had watched his brother’s heart shatter as Odin physically sent you through the Bifrost while Frigga held the raging sobbing Loki to keep him from following. He had watched as Frigga worked her magic, Loki’s eyes glazing, then the soft question:

    “Mother, why are we at the Bifrost?”

    Frigga smiled warmly at her son. “You were curious how it worked, darling, remember? Heimdall was going to open it for you so you could see for yourself.” Loki nodded, accepting the answer. Thor was horrified that his Mother had truly done it, had truly removed Loki’s memories.

    *

    You broke the spell, tears in your eyes as you yanked your hands back from Thor’s temples. He was shivering, but seemed otherwise unaffected. “Sorry,” you murmured, placing your hands in your lap. Thor was blinking quickly, a side effect of having his mind meddled with, but his eyes deglazed quickly. You were swaying, exhausted and drained.

    “Oh gods,” Thor said softly, obviously remembering something. It would take him awhile to go through all of the memories.

    “Don’t try to remember everything at once,” you warned, your voice betraying your exhaustion. “Give it time,” he nodded, then looked you over. You were currently trying to remember how one got to one’s feet. It was difficult to imagine how to accomplish that task.

    Thor grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. “Come on, Kyrie, you’re in no shape after that much magic to make it to bed on your own.” You looked up at him confused, fading quickly now that the rush from focusing on that spell was gone. The old nickname hadn’t even registered. He gave you a warm smile and lifted you into his arms, like you weighed nothing. Of course you didn’t to him. The blanket was wrapped around you in such a way that he wouldn’t touch your bare skin. Obviously he could, but you would worry, plus he had just had a large dose of Jotun ice while you were working on his mind and really didn’t need more.

    Nat stood, trying to decide what to do with this development. “Relax, Lady Natasha, I am just escorting the Valkyrie back to her bed. She has done me quite the service tonight. I will explain later, but the least I can do in return is make sure she can rest from it. I will not harm her,”

    “Y/N?” Nat asked. You nodded, then let your head fwump back on Thor’s shoulder.

    “‘m ok. Thanks for helping,” you murmured. Nat’s job had been important, though she hadn’t really had to do anything. Lookouts were very important. Thor chuckled and carried you to the elevator.

    “Brother? Have you seen-” Loki’s voice roused you when Thor stepped out of the elevator on your floor. “What did you do to her?” He ran over and forcefully took you from Thor’s arms, which was a pretty impressive feat. You had a feeling Thor only handed you over so you didn’t get dropped in the tussle. “Kyrie? Kyrie?” he asked frantically, while you fought to open your eyes, too drained to function.

    “Calm, brother. She is fine. She used her magic to lift Mother’s spell from my memories,” Thor explained quickly.

    “I’m ok, love,” you murmured to Loki, only half awake and kissed his cheek automatically. You were too out of it to attempt to be formal, or remember that you were supposed to, or think. “Thunderhead is an oaf and loud, but he doesn’t lie,”

    You heard the warm smile in Loki’s reply. “Good, I would so hate to have to kill him. It would only upset Mother. And I much prefer that she is currently upset with Thor,” you smiled at his words and laid your head on his shoulder.

    “Do you remember, then?” Thor asked kindly as he walked with Loki to your room.

    Loki shook his head. “Only pieces. Mother’s magic is quite effective since it was specifically designed so I cannot break it. I was going to ask Kyrie to help, but it appears you beat me to it. And before you offer you are in no shape,” Loki added firmly for your benefit. Thor opened your bedroom door and Loki tucked you into bed. “Rest, little Valkyrie,” he bid you softly.

    “Love you too,” you murmured, eyes shut and mostly asleep. You felt him stiffen and nearly opened your eyes again to see what was wrong, but couldn’t manage it.

    “I don’t remember. We had this entire relationship, and she speaks as if I’m the love of her life. But I don’t remember,” Loki’s frustrated tone made you make a small noise and move a little, stirring back awake.

    “Come, brother. Let her rest. I know her words are unsettling when you don’t remember. She is too exhausted to guard them. You must be aware of that. Do not fault her for being lost to the memories when she spent the evening helping me rebuild them,” Thor’s voice as he was pulling Loki from the room. “Thank you, Lady Valkyrie,” Thor’s voice and then the door was closed, the dark room pulled you into sleep dreaming of days long passed.

#Loki #Lover #Imagine #submission #nekoamamori #winter's hearts #chapter 4 #friend #love #asgard #earth #dead #alive #s.h.i.e.l.d. #avengers #ecstatic #relationship #midgardian