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marie-swriting · 1 year

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I Cannot Afford To Lose You - Bucky Barnes

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : You get shot on a mission, resulting in you almost dying in Bucky's arms.

Warnings : gunshot, gunshot wound, reader almost dies, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, John Walker, Bucky being protective, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3k

French version

A/N : this one shot was based on this request made by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains hope you'll like it ! Personally, I enjoyed writing it, your idea was really inspirational :)

You enter a dark room, your senses on alert, lying in wait for a potential threat with your batons in hands. You look at every side of the place when you see a shadow coming towards you. Just in time, you block the punch of the Flag Smasher with your weapon. Then, follow a fight between you and the masked woman. Despite the Supersoldier serum running in her veins, you can get through it pretty easily. Thanks to your training with Bucky, you can easily adapt to a fight with someone who has super strength. You succeed to hit her but not enough to knock her out. Your hits only made her lose her mask, allowing you to see she’s a woman in her early twenties. You keep fighting when a gunshot can be heard. Lowering your gaze on your stomach, you see blood. The Flag Smasher pushes you before running away while you fall on the ground. You bring your hand to your wound and try to put pressure on it, despite the pain.

“Y/N ? What was that ? You’re okay ?” Bucky’s worried voice asks in your earpiece. “Y/N !” he screams as he doesn’t hear an answer from you.

“I lost the target.” you articulate after a few seconds.

“I’ll handle it.” Sam informs, “Everything is good for you ?”

You don’t have the strength to answer him, too focused to not bleed out. You sweep the area with your eyes, hoping to find the shooter yet you see no one. You keep looking around, searching for something to help you, in vain. Your breath quickens when Buckys appears. A worried expression takes its place on his face when he runs to you. Before reaching you, you can hear him ordering Sam to call paramedics. Bucky kneels next to you, takes your hands away and puts pressure on your wound. Gradually, your eyelids are getting heavier so Bucky shakes you with one hand to keep you awake.

“I forbid you to fall sleep, you hear me ? Stay focused, Sam called for help, they’ll get there soon.”

“I’m tired.” you stutter, looking at him with difficulty.

“I know but you can’t close your eyes, okay ? You’re gonna make it out alive so stay awake.”

“Bucky, I-” you start putting your hand on his.

“No, shh,” he cuts you off softly, “focus on not closing your eyes. You’ll tell me what you want to say later. Hold on, Y/N, you’re gonna make it out alive.” he repeats whilst his hands are getting dirty with your blood.

You try to listen to Buky and do everything to not fall asleep however the more the time passes, the harder it gets. You slowly start to give up when the paramedics come to you. Distantly, you can hear Bucky screaming your name while you sink into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you feel attacked by the lightness of the place. You close them for a second before opening them again slowlier. When you’re finally used to the brightness, you analyse your environment and realise you’re in a hospital room. Your eyes fall on Bucky who is sitting next to you, his hands holding your right one and he’s lost in his thoughts. You lightly move your fingers to catch his attention. Feeling you moving, Bucky’s head instantly turns on his left. When he sees you awake, he sighs in relief before getting closer to you. With his left hand, he strokes your cheeks.

“Hey, how are you feeling ?” he whispers.

“Like I got shot.” you say, trying to smile.

“At least, we know for sure we haven’t lost her.” Sam intervenes, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Are you hurting somewhere ? Do you want me to call a nurse ? I should call a nurse to let her know you’re awake.”

“No need. The IV is still working.”

“It’d be safer and maybe they need to check something as you’re awake now.” your boyfriend insists while pressing the button to call the nurse.

“Worse than a mother hen.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” you order as you feel a pain in your belly even though you only laugh a little at their bickering.

“Sorry.” Sam apologises.

Bucky keeps looking at you as if he was afraid that if he looks away you’ll disappear. You look at him lovingly, hoping it’ll reassure him, confirming to him he hasn’t lost you. Meanwhile, Sam feels a little bit left out yet he can’t help but look at the scene tenderly, knowing very well what you mean to Bucky.

Indeed, since you met the former Winter Soldier, you’ve always made sure he never misses anything. You helped, and still help him sometimes, to get used to the modern world and you’re one of the few shoulders he can cry on without feeling ashamed. Your feelings for each other got stronger gently and your relationship evolved at the same pace. Your bond is strong and indescribable. All that you both know is you can’t live without the other. Bucky in particular cannot lose you, not only because he loves you but also because you’re one of the rare constants in his life since he got his memory back.

Someone knocks on your door, breaking your bubble by doing so. You get ready to greet a nurse when you find John Walker in his Captain America outfit and his helmet in hands. You frown, not expecting to see him here.

“John, what a pleasure !” Bucky starts, sarcastically, “Are you here to give the Shield back ?”

“Buck !” you reprimand him and he fakes an innocent expression.

“I just wanted to know how you were feeling.” John asks you, avoiding your gaze for a second.

“I’ll get by, considering I almost died.”

“About that, I wanted to apologise.”

“What are you talking about ?” you question, frowning.

Although if you didn’t see who shot you, you guessed it was a Flag Smasher as your wound allowed your enemy to escape, until Sam caught her, so you don’t understand John's apology.

“I… I was targeting the Flag Smasher,” explain John, playing with his helmet, “but while you were fighting, you moved and I shot you by accident.”

Upon hearing the end of John’s sentence, Bucky sees red and lets go of your hand before trying to get to John. Sam barely holds him, preventing Bucky from breaking his therapist’s rule number two. John moves back to the door in case Sam wouldn’t be able to hold Bucky back anymore. Your boyfriend forces himself to not use all of his strength against Sam, he knows he’d be able to get away from his grip if he really wants to but he also knows it’s not the thing to do. Bucky finally got his pardon, he can’t ruin everything now. However, it doesn’t mean John didn’t almost ruin the most precious relationship to his eyes. As if it’s enough that Bucky can’t for the life of him like the new Captain America, now he has only one urge : hurt him real bad or go back in time and force Sam to keep this damn Shield like this, you wouldn’t be in this hospital bed.

“It was an accident, I promise.” John states, “I really am sorry.”

“They don’t teach you how to shoot in the army anymore or what ?” Bucky spits as Sam tightens his grip on him. “Come on, if you don’t have a clear view, you don’t shoot, that’s common sense ! Because of you, Y/N almost fucking lost her life and we almost didn’t catch the Flag Smasher. You can’t be that stupid !”

“Bucky, he didn’t do it on purpose.” you intervene, hoping it’ll ease the tension.

Even if you hate John as much as Bucky does, you can’t have your boyfriend rearranging his face. You can’t have Bucky being the US government’s number one enemy again.

“I don’t care about that,” Bucky retorts to you, “You almost died in my arms because of his incompetence.” he keeps saying as he points at John with his chin, “What a good Captain America ! Just for that reason alone, you should give the Shield back.”

“It was a mistake. Besides, I just got promoted as Captain America, I still have a lot to learn.” John tries to defend himself, irritating Bucky a bit more.

“Shooting innocents shouldn’t be a part of it ! You’re supposed to have learned this at the beginning of your training in the army. It was more than a mistake. You better leave now before I make you a permanent resident in this hospital.”

“You should go, John.” you confirm, knowing well Bucky’s anger won’t cool off now, “Thanks for telling me the truth.”

“It was the least I could do. Again, sorry, Y/N.”

When John finally leaves the room, Sam slowly lets Bucky go, though he stays at the ready to hold Bucky back just in case. Your boyfriend takes a deep breath before setting his attention on you. He might seem calmer, you can see in his eyes his anger is still there. He sits back down whilst Sam gets settled at the end of your bed.

“All of this could have been avoided if you hadn’t given up the Shield.” Bucky exclaims, making both yours and Sam’s eyes roll.

“Still with that.”

“How can you not be mad at him when he almost killed you ?” he questions, confused.

“Look, you know my opinion on him as Captain America and today proves us a bit more, it shouldn’t be him, but the fact is, he didn’t hurt me intentionally.”

“Intentionally or not, I could have lost you.”

“And it’s not the case. I’m still here.” you assure him, stroking his cheek.

Bucky is about to add something when the nurse he called earlier enters your accommodation. She checks your vital signs, asks you some questions and informs you your doctor will come check on you later before letting you rest. Thanks to her appearance, Bucky finally gives up the ‘John’ subject, however he’s still fulminating. To lighten up the mood, Sam changes the subject by talking about his house in Louisiana. He speaks about the weather, his family boat and the several activities his hometown has to offer until your doctor cuts him off. She explains to you they saved you just in time and you’ll have a scar on your belly. Finally, she informs you you’ll have to spare yourself for a while, strictly forbidding you to get back on the field until further notice. You can’t help but let go of a frustrated sigh at her last information. The last thing you needed was to be confined in your bed when you’re someone who is active. When she leaves, Bucky tries to make you see the bright side as he knows you’re annoyed by your current situation. However, no matter what he says, it doesn’t seem to make your pout go away. Sam finally proposes to do your recovery at his house in Louisiana, away from the city. You weigh the pros and cons before accepting, not without making Bucky roll his eyes.

When you’re finally cleared to leave the hospital, you discover the State where Sam lives. The latter gave you and Bucky the guest room. You thanked him countless times for his kindness whilst Bucky only gave him a small smile to show his gratitude.

During your recovery, the two men pamper you. Sam makes you taste the traditional dish from Louisiana as well as his family recipes. You have to admit Sam is a good cook, something you wouldn’t have thought at first. Sam also brought you several things to keep you busy from your bed like board games or some manual activities. You now consider yourself a pro in the making of bracelets with plastic pearls. You’ve made some for Sam, his sister Sarah and her sons AJ and Cass but also for Bucky. AJ and Cass aside, Bucky is the one who has most of them, with cute or ridiculous names going from ‘my lover’ to ‘grumpy’. Some of your bracelets are in perfect contrast with his Vibranium arm.

As for Bucky, he’s always by your side and worries even when you assure him you’re not in pain. He helps you clean your wound, change your bandage and always makes sure you’re in a good sleeping position. Finally, during the night, when you’re asleep, Bucky is glued to you - while being careful about your wound - and delicately rests his head on your chest to hear your regular heartbeats. By hearing them, Bucky can breathe and sleep peacefully whilst saying to himself again and again you’re still alive, you’re still by his side, he hasn’t lost you.

After several weeks laying down, you can walk a longer distance than the one from your room to your bathroom. Sitting on your bed, you’re putting your shoes on when Bucky with his eyes wide open comes to you.

“What do you think you’re doing ? You need to rest.” he reminds you, stopping you from tying completely your left shoelace.

“The doctor told me I needed to walk to help with the healing.” you explain playing with the pearls of his bracelet making the word ‘oldman’.

“What kind of stupid advice is that ? You need to stay in bed.”

“Bucky, if I stay one more second on that damn bed, I’m gonna burn it down.” you inform with a serious face. “Besides, I’m not gonna run a marathon, I’m just gonna walk very slowly around the house. Come with me if it can make you feel any better.”

“What if you hurt yourself while walking ?” he inquires and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Then, thank God my amazing and strong boyfriend will be next to me to help me. Bucky, I’m fine.” you comfort him, looking in his eyes. “I’m not in pain and I need to move. I can’t stand there and look good anymore in this house. I know every corner of this bedroom, I need to go out.”

Bucky seems to consider it for a second, mentally weighing his options before sighing and nodding.

“OK, but if you feel even the slightest pain, you better tell me and we go home.” he orders, untying your left shoelace to redo it, “and we’re not walking more than five minutes.” he adds.

“Fifteen.” you negotiate.

“Ten.”

“Deal.” you accept with a childish look.

Bucky finishes tying your right shoelace before giving you his hand to help you get up from the bed and examine your face for any sign of hurt. To prove him you’re fine, you smile at him before pecking his lips. He takes your right arm and locks it with his to support you while you start leaving your temporary quarter. Upon - finally - leaving the house, you take your time to enjoy the sun’s heat on your face. You walk, sharing with Bucky all of your observations on the landscape in front of you. Since you arrived, you didn’t get the time to admire the outside beauty of Sam’s house so you look at every tree, flower and wave, enjoying the nature Brooklyn doesn’t have.

After a few minutes of walking, you ask Bucky to stop. Immediately, he questions you, worried you might pass out at any given time.

“I’m fine.” you reassure him though his worried expression doesn’t leave his face.

“Sorry I’m always on your back but I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I know.”

“Do you think I’m too much ?” he questions while touching the bracelet with the word ‘sweetheart’.

“No, I think it’s cute the way you’re always worried.” you say, lifting his head with your hand. “You’re a real mother hen but I like it.” you add, making him chuckle a little.

“Can you hold it against me ? I really thought I’d lost you.” he says, reminiscing the moment where he got to you as you were bleeding out. “When you started closing your eyes, I was sure it was the end. And I cannot lose you.” Bucky affirms with a shaking voice, “I know I don’t tell you often but my therapist says I need to learn to communicate what I’m feeling so here I am saying it : you matter to me and I need you in order to keep moving on. I know it might sound selfish but I cannot afford to lose you and if it were ever to happen… i don't know what I’d become.” he keeps saying with teary eyes, “I need you close to me. I love you so much.”

As you see a tear rolling down his cheeks, you take him in your arms and stroke his back. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and breathes in your smell. A part of Bucky feels bad for being the one getting comforted when you’re the one who got wounded notwithstanding he needs it. Losing you is his worst fear and since John shot you, he became aware his fear could become real in a second. You keep hugging him, proving to him it doesn't bother you to comfort him because you understand him.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you murmur in his ear, “so much.”

You stay in each other’s arms for a few minutes until your anxiety vanishes away. When you break the embrace, one of your hands finds its way to Bucky’s cheek and the second one strokes the bracelet with the pearls ‘forever’ before taking his left hand.

“I can’t promise you I’ll always be safe considering what we do for a living but I can promise you one thing : I will always do in my power everything to stay by your side and I want you to promise me the same because I need you as much as you need me.”

“I promise.”

Like to seal your promise, you delicately kiss each other with the Sun as a witness. Bucky doesn’t put his hand on your waist, worried he’ll hurt you involuntarily, so his hands find their way to your cheeks while yours get lost in his hair.

Marvel Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

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alexsoenomel · 2 years

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Zippo Lighter (Dean Winchester x Reader fluffy smut)

Request: Hi 😊 would you do a Dean Winchester imagine where youre secretly having a crush on each other but not admitting it. Then one time Sam is out and you're alone at the motel, so it happens you accidentally walk in the bathroom while Dean takes a shower. You get all flustered but Dean takes the chance to grab you and kiss you and you end up in bed making soft love that night. In the morning Sam finds you cuddling and is just happy you finally got together

Summary: You were born with a very special and powerful gift. This is the story of how you met the Winchesters and fell for the older one.

Pyrokinesis /ˌpaɪroʊkɪˈniːsɪs/ —The ability to set objects or people on fire or to supernaturally project fire from one's own being through the concentration of psychic power.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, abuse and death, AGE GAP (DEAN IS 35 AND THE READER IS 20), sweet and vanilla sex (reader is a virgin)

Word count: 7,505 (OOPS! I got carried away...)

Note: I LIVE FOR MUTURAL PINING OKAY! I put my own little twist to it and the only thing I left out from the request was when Sam finds them together....I kinda wanted a funny ending. Request by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY QUEEN FOR BEING THE BEST AND HELPING ME GROW AS A WRITER! LOVE YA GIRL! @ambergoddess444ALSO CHECK OUT HER BLOG!! SHE IS AN AMAZING WRITER HERSELF AND IS CURRENTLY WORKING ON AN AMAZING SERIES CALLED LAWFUL BALANCE!!!!

It was said that being different was, is and will, most of the time, be a bad thing. Why? Probably because people usually didn't understand why someone was different. Sure, there are good human beings in this world, but most of the time, when you hear something filled with hatred it tends to stay with you longer than the good things. That's why you kept things quiet.

You didn't really have good friends and your family died in a fire...a fire you started when you were just a little girl in diapers, crying yourself to sleep. One moment you were crying in your crib for mommy to pick you up and feed you, and the next, everything was on fire....except you. You still didn’t know what exactly happened. That day you became an orphan, depending on others and your home was an orphanage near the house you once lived in. You weren’t happy there whatsoever. You had no friends, the food was awful and the women who were supposed to keep you safe didn’t care and treated you like garbage. No one liked you, no one wanted you…so you decided to run.

The night before your 18th birthday you packed a bag and finally, when everyone went to sleep, at around 3am, you left and never came back. When they finally realized you were gone, they were furious. Of course they tried to look for you, but failed. You were far gone from your city and everything you knew. It was time to start over.

That was two years ago.

Now, at the age of 20, you were content and living your life instead of just surviving. You worked as a janitor in a local high school in Lebanon, Kansas. It wasn’t much but you had your own little place, some money to survive and had a somewhat normal life. You thought you had finally run away from your past, and as far as your outstanding ability went, you decided to shut it down. You didn’t think about it and just for a second it seemed like you had finally moved on. You were even thinking about going to college and finally doing something you loved. Being a janitor wasn’t something you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

Everything seemed fine, you managed to make some friends at that high school (more like people you were friendly with); some of them were students rushing desperately to graduate and go to college, some of them were even teachers, and for the first time you felt accepted, which was ironic considering you worked in the most judgmental place on Earth.

Who knew everything was about to change one night? You sure didn’t. You were clueless.

At around 1am on a Friday night you were awakened by the sound of the glass shattering. You got up and went to the kitchen only to see a shadow of a man.

“Who the hell are you?” You asked. You weren’t scared, you were angry and that wasn’t good for either one of you.

“Hey there.” The man spoke. His voice sent cold shivers down your spine, and not the good kind. It was the kind that made you sick to your stomach.

“Don’t move.” He said, pulling out a gun. “You’re going to be a very good girl for me tonight.”

You still weren’t terrified. The man had the face of a true monster and you still weren’t scared. He told you he was going to rape you and rob you, and you still didn’t flinch. Instead you were raging with anger. Your jaw was painfully clenched as your hands formed two fists. Slowly you approached him, step by step…

“Don’t fucking move.” He ordered but you didn’t listen.

“You told me to be good, right?” You asked innocently while the muzzle of the gun was on your chest. Slowly you put your palm on it. “I will be good I promise.”

The smell of melted metal filled the room, along with the smoke and…light?

A small beam of light came directly from your palm, intriguing the man to become fixated on it. You, on the other hand, didn’t notice. A few seconds later, the gun muzzle was shut, and the gun became useless.

“What the fuck did you do?” The man asked, as panic started to set in.

You weren’t feeling right. You knew he couldn’t hurt you now but you were still angry. He broke into your home, with the intent to assault you and might try again if you don’t do something. The anger was too much…

“Oh nothing…” You said calmly and pressed your thumb on his chest imagining the fire burning on that exact spot.

The man was confused until he looked down and saw his sweater on fire. He started to panic and tried to find the nearest object to put the fire out. It was useless; he was a dead man from the moment he broke into your apartment.

You stepped back from him and slowly moved your hand up in the air. The fire spread all over him now and he was screaming. That scream of pure agony woke you up. You quickly realized what you had done and it was time to run. No time to get your stuff, you just grabbed your wallet and left. Soon,the whole ground floor, where your apartment was, was on fire…

You didn’t know where to run or where to hide. You didn’t have a car and you wanted to leave town as soon as possible. What happened? What have I done?

Those were the questions you couldn’t get out of your head while running God knows where.You didn’t know where your legs were taking you, but you couldn’t stop running. It was dark and it felt like every soul was asleep except you. The night seemed so endless and hollow.

Why can’t I just be normal? I want to be normal.

It was probably 7am and you were still on the move. You unknowingly passed the highway and entered the woods you had no knowledge existed in the first place. Eventually you noticed the sun was about to rise and you were exhausted.

Still in shock from previous events, you felt like screaming. Tears were coming down your cheeks and your stomach made the loudest noise letting you know you were hungry. Realizing you were lost, you decided to sit down and rest for a bit. You let your mind slowly drift to sleep as you listened to the sounds surrounding you; birds chirping, wind blowing, branches swinging and…someone running?

You immediately got up, feeling anxious yet again. In your mind it could be a serial killer or a dangerous animal.

“HELLO?”

Nothing.

“HELLO?”

Nothing yet again.

You slowly started to panic, feeling like you could burst at any minute and setting everything on fire again scared the living shit out of you.

“Hey.” Someone said behind you.

You turned around, and faster than lightning, from your hand a small ball of fire flew and almost hit the guy who was standing behind you. Luckily, he was fast enough to throw himself on the ground and the fire hit a tree, missing him by a few inches.

“What the hell?” You mumbled and looked at your hand. This was new. You have never done something like this. Imagining where you wanted fire to burn was the only way you could create it.

Sometimes you would lose control (like last night) but you never thought fire could leave your body just like it did now. It was like you were a living, breathing lighter.

“I’m so sorry.” You said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t tell anyone what you saw. Fuck.” By this point you were having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the woods with a stranger. What a perfect scenario, you thought.

“Hey, first of all I won’t.” The stranger got up and cleaned the dirt off his shorts. He was tall, very tall, with long-ish hair and a pleasant face. By the looks of his clothes he was jogging. Who in their right state of mind jogs in the middle of the woods at 7 o’clock in the morning? Clearly this guy. “Second, how did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You said wiping tears off your cheek. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Okay. This is going to sound crazy but I live in a bunker near these woods with my brother, we deal with this kind of stuff all the time. You’re clearly stressed out and tired, do you want to come with me? We can sort everything out.”

“What? So you have seen stuff like this?” You asked, genuinely surprised by his answer.

“This? No…but I have seen a lot of things people only dream about.”

“You sound like a character from a TV show…or a mental patient.” You said, still questioning whether he was telling the truth.

“Yeah. People usually tend to think I’m crazy.” He smiled.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Think about it this way, you can kill me if I try anything.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

He seemed genuine and you felt like you could trust him. He was right; you could kill him if you wanted to. Your powers were growing and you could feel it. You didn’t want it, but it was out of your control.

On your way to “the bunker”, you explained to him what happened: the stranger in your home, destroying his gun and killing him…he seemed to believe your every word. His name was Sam Winchester and he wasn’t lying. He did in fact live with his brother in these woods. It was some sort of a reinforced underground shelter, bunker of some sort; it screamed men cave but it was cozy and felt like an actual home.

“Hey Sam.” Someone emerged from the kitchen. A man in a long, gray robe with morning bed hair and coffee in his right hand. “Who’s this?”

“This is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my brother Dean.“ He looked at him and just nodded.”I will explain later. Now do you want to take a shower while I talk to my brother?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You said.

Sam gave you a towel, a clean shirt and showed you where the guest room was, along with the bathroom. You were still a little anxious and on the edge after everything that had happened the previous night, but strangely enough, you knew everything would be okay in the end. You could trust Sam.

“I’m hungry and I’m not gonna ask anything until I eat my breakfast.” Dean said calmly, looking at his plate of pancakes like he was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I? Sam smiled.

“Oh yeah.”

After 10 minutes of Dean stuffing his face with pancakes and Sam looking at his laptop as usual, you were finally done with the shower and the older brother was ready to ask some questions.

“Okay first of all, why did you let a stranger use my shower?” Dean asked.

“It’s a guest bathroom, Dean.”

“Still…What’s her deal?”

“I ran into her while jogging…she’s…” He didn’t know how to explain it to him because he wasn’t quite sure what he witnessed in the first place.

“What?” Dean was growing impatient, you could hear it in his deep and sharp voice.

“She can create fire.” He finally spat it out. “I found her in the woods scared and alone and she threw a ball of fire at me.”

“And you brought her here?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I scared her. The fire hit the tree.”

Dean wasn’t pleased with his brother and the decision to bring a complete stranger to their home, but of course, Sam already knew that and still decided to help you. He knew what it was like to feel completely alone, so he wanted to help.

“Still she could have killed you Sam.” Dean yelled.

“But I didn’t mean to.” You said standing behind them with wet hair and face almost red after a hot shower. The shirt Sam gave you was just above your knees but you were still wearing your dirty pajama bottoms. “I panicked and I’m so sorry Sam.”

“I believe you. Now, let's figure this out.”

You nodded and sat next to Dean while Sam was still searching for something on his laptop. “There it is.” He mumbled and showed you the article. Damn, those journalists were fast. It was about the dead guy in your burnt down apartment. Luckily no one else got hurt or died. You then showed Dean the article.

“You did this?” He asked. His face was a little tense. He was contemplating if he could trust you or not.

“Yeah. Some guy broke in and threatened to rape me. I got mad.”

“Rape you?” He said after checking the screen once more. The guy you killed was a convicted sex offender.

“Yes. He had a gun.” You added.

“Well, it’s safe to say he got what he deserved. “ Dean said.

“Yeah but my life is ruined.” You said looking at your hands. “I could never live a normal life.”

“What do you mean? Where are your parents?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t even look at him and you sure weren’t about to cry. You told them about your parents, the fire, the orphanage and the abuse you endured and how life has been nothing but running and hiding for you. You have been just surviving for the majority of your life. It became exhausting, but once you finally started living, it all seemed too good to be true. Now you knew, it was. You could never have a normal life.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Your voice was trembling as you struggled not to completely fall apart. “I just want to be normal.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so angry at yourself it made your heart literally hurt. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack or maybe it was just breaking knowing you lost one thing you wanted the most – normalcy. You excused yourself and went to the guest room where you were staying. As soon as you shut the door you started to cry collapsing onto the floor. You suddenly heard Sam’s voice calling your name.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m a mess, better not. Give me a minute!”

“Okay but know one thing. It’s not your fault you were born like this. It doesn’t matter what you are nor what abilities you have, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice. You were a baby when it happened, (Y/N).”

Sam’s words hit you like a damn truck. He was right, you knew he was, but you couldn’t shake off the guilt you felt. You decided to open the door. You wiped your tears and let him in.

“You sure know your way with words, Sam.” You said, forcing a smile on your face.

“That’s because I’ve been there.” He confessed.

“You said you and your brother deal with all kinds of strange stuff, what exactly do you mean? Are there more people like me?”

He told you he will tell you everything if you stop crying and go back to the library.

“Okay.”

When you got back to the library, Sam proceeded to tell you stories that you would only read in books or see in movies. He told you he and Dean were hunters, but not the ones you thought. They hunted creatures… supernatural beings.

Stories about actual ghosts, demons and even angels followed. Dean even told you God himself existed…and that Lucifer was a tantrum making man-child which made you chuckle. When you asked them about humans with abilities he told you there were people with telekinesis, but your case was unknown to them.

“Well then…” Disappointment and confusion was all you felt in that moment. “This sucks.”

“Want a drink?” Dean asked.

“Yes, please.” You said as a thought followed. I’m not old enough to drink.

Dean went and got you the strongest whiskey he could find. When you took a sip, the burning sensation went straight through your throat. It was strong alright and you have never tasted alcohol before. Strangely enough, it tasted good. It made you clench your eyes shut, but it was really good.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“Do you think I’m a monster?” You then asked him. Dean was taken aback for a second before he finally answered.

“Nah, you don’t want to kill people, do you?”

“No.”

“You don’t feed off people?”

“No.”

“Then you’re good, don’t worry. Besides, I think it’s pretty awesome what you can do.”

You have never heard someone tell you this; then again no one has ever known what you can do. His words rang in your mind as your gaze went to your now half empty glass, wondering how you drank the amount you did.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re like a walking, talking Zippo lighter.” Dean’s voice was naturally deep and husky; hearing him call you a walking,talking Zippo lighter sent light shivers all over your body. His lips formed a pout, he seemed to really like his little analogy.

Looking at your right hand, scanning every inch of it, you couldn’t get his words off your mind; a walking, talking Zippo lighter. Something in your mind happened that caused the tip of your index finger to make a small flame, indeed like a lighter. You smiled in shock; this was the first time you actually used your ability, without feeling angry. Rotating your hand you imagined the flame getting bigger, and indeed it became bigger.

“Like this?” You asked.

“Wow.” Dean said clearly impressed while Sam had a look of worry written all over his face.

“(Y/N)…” Sam finally spoke in a whisper. Brows furrowed; his face screamed concern. He was afraid you might slip and lose control, like you did with him. You took that as a sign to stop, so you brought your fingers into a fist and the flame was gone.

“Sorry.” You then mumbled.

“You’re indeed a Zippo lighter.” Dean said and lifted his glass. “Let’s drink to that!”

“Cheers!” You said lifting yours and chugged the rest of the whiskey. “What am I going to do though?”

One glass of whiskey wasn’t enough for you to forget your whole situation. You had nowhere to go, only a little money in your pocket that will probably last you a month if you skip dinner every night.

“Tell you what, why don’t you stay with us for a while?” Sam said. “This library is filled with books about the supernatural, there must be something about your ability, we just have to find it.”

“Really?” You asked, looking at Dean for approval.

“We don’t usually do this, heck we don’t do this ever, but if Sam trusts you I trust you. But if you do anything stupid we will have a problem. Got it?” Dean said.

“DEAN!” Sam yelled, annoyed because in his eyes, he was basically threatening a child. You were 20, but still apparently a child in his eyes.

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!” You got up from your chair and went straight for a hug.

“Oh, okay then…” Dean said as you wrapped your hands around his neck from behind as he was still sitting and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Dean was definitely surprised by your actions and couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. Then you went and hugged Sam. You felt so small due to his height. His body was firm and he smelled like a winter mountain’s air, fresh.

For the first time in your life you felt safe. These guys just met you and they were willing to take you under their wing and help you find answers to questions that followed you for as long as you have been on this Earth. You couldn’t be more thankful for that.

*********

First few weeks living in the bunker with the brothers was a bit awkward and not for them, but for you. It still kind of was after almost five months of being a part of their lives. Sam became like a brother to you, for the first time in your life you could just let go and tell someone what was bothering you and what was on your mind. He became your best friend.

But Dean on the other hand…

Dean was something else. You found yourself looking at him more and more, but in a way you didn’t understand. It came out of nowhere. The man was gorgeous, no doubt about that, but he also liked rock music, had a weakness for pecan pie and overall was a pretty funny guy with a heart of gold. Of course you couldn’t tell Sam about it, it would make things even more awkward and you definitely couldn’t tell Dean, so you decided to not think about it. Suffer in silence and be dramatic…

You had a pretty good life with them. At first Dean didn’t let you go on hunts with them because he thought you would get hurt, but you took care of that. When a nest of vampires came to your town you made sure to show Dean what you can do. You took down the whole nest with one flame.

“Damn (Y/N)!” He said when he realized the whole nest was dead. It made you blush like a schoolgirl.

Your ability just kept getting stronger. Sam was helping you control it and so far it was working, deep breaths, meditation and surprisingly yoga helped but as far as knowing the origin of your powers… that still remained a mystery. Being an impulsive ass you sometimes had moments when you couldn’t control yourself and lit things on fire. It was a little saddening knowing you might never find an answer where your powers came from but you learned to accept it. So far it was working for you. You were in a good place.

One Monday morning you were eating breakfast with the boys while Sam was on his laptop with a piece of toast in his mouth searching for a case.

“Sam, will you ever eat breakfast without your beloved laptop?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He mumbled.

You looked over at Dean who was looking back at you smiling. He was looking extra good today which made you nervous. Your little crush was still alive and well, tormenting you day and night. You smiled back at him before you heard Sam saying he found a case. Perfect timing, you didn’t want to look for too long and be obvious.

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Los Angeles. Two people dead and one is missing. Eyes burnt.”

“City of angels and dead angels. What an irony.” You said.

“Or demons.” Dean added.

“So are we going?” You then asked.

You were going and you were going right after breakfast. You packed your bags and went within 20 minutes. The ride was going to be long so you packed some snacks, water and beer as well. This was going to be the first LONG drive with the brothers. Almost 24 hours… Sitting in the back seat you couldn’t help but watch Dean as he started the engine and pushed the gas pedal of his Baby. He really loved that car, blasting Led Zeppelin through the speakers, jamming to their music and genuinely being happy.

After a while you put your jacket against the window using it as a pillow and fell asleep. You didn’t get much sleep that night so might as well use the time to nap.

You woke up about two hours later still on the road.

“Good morning.” You heard Dean say.

“Hi (Y/N).” Sam said.

“Hi, are we there yet?” You murmured, still a little sleepy.

They both laughed telling you, you have been asleep for only two hours.

“Damn it.”

The ride was long and exhausting. You listened to Dean’s playlist which you didn’t mind considering you loved classic rock and slept while the older brother was driving. You made a few stops here and there to stretch your legs and have a breath of fresh air before finally arriving in Los Angeles the next day at around 7am. You found a cheap motel and decided to eat and rest for a bit before going to work. The room was relatively small with three beds, a semi clean bathroom and a dining table.

“Dibs on the shower.” You said.

“I’m next.” Sam said, looking at his brother.

“Ugh fine.” You heard Dean as you closed the door.

After a steamy hot shower you felt like you have just been reborn. Because it was hot as hell (pun intended), you put on a pair of shorts, one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin shirts you “borrowed” and your worn out boots. When you opened the door Dean’s gaze went straight to you. He was obvious but you didn’t see it. You were too tired and hungry to notice anything.

Dean was lost in you and he was quite confused by it. When he first saw you, he thought you were cute but then when you told him you were 20 he slapped himself mentally. He was 35 and it felt weird.

While he was drinking his beer and Sam was taking a shower, he watched you as you roamed around the room packing your stuff searching for God knows what in those damn shorts before you sat down across from him and opened your small bottle of vodka you bought at the gas station. You looked older than your actual age so buying alcohol was never a problem for you.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“Vodka.”

“You know you’re not old enough to drink?”

“I will be 21 in five months, leave me be.” You smiled and took a sip. Vodka was strong, burning your throat for a few seconds but it felt so good it woke you up instantly. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t smart at all and you knew that, but man you needed that little taste. You were a little nervous being alone with Dean.

You didn’t know but he couldn’t stop thinking how hot you were in those shorts and his shirt. “Why the fuck do I have a crush on a chick who's not old enough to drink?”

*****

The next day started at 6am. Dean woke you with a fresh cup of coffee under your nose.

“Good morning princess.”

His sarcastic tone made you roll your eyes before you even opened them. You got up, eyes still closed, hair all over your face, and took a sip of bitter black coffee. It was good enough to make you open your eyes, as you sat on the edge of the bed, processing your existence.

“Where’s Sam?” You said under your breath.

“Went to check out the bodies. Get dressed! We are going in ten minutes!”

“Without breakfast?” You asked knowing damn well Dean would never skip breakfast.

“With breakfast dumbass! We are meeting him at the diner two blocks away.”

“Good.” You simply said and went to the bathroom.

*****

The whole day was a bust. You checked out the bodies but couldn’t locate the source of the killings and with Cas (a badass angel whom you had a pleasure meeting once) not answering his angel phone, you were kinda stuck.

Later that day another body popped up, but no new leads followed. Annoyed, tired and sweaty in the suits you were wearing pretending to be the FBI, you decided to try again tomorrow. Sam decided to go for a walk and clear his head, while Dean was ready to hit the sack. You were hungry so you decided to grab a burger before going back to the motel.

After eating your Five guys you came back to the room, ready for a shower and some sweet dreams. Where's Dean?

Kicking your boots off, you noticed Dean’s suit on his bed and yet again wondered where he was. You took off the blazer and pants, feeling the warm air brush your skin and relief since it was so damn hot. Wrapping a towel around your naked body you opened the bathroom door only to see Dean standing surrounded by steam with a towel around his hips. You have seen him shirtless before, covered in cuts and blood, but shirtless nonetheless and every time you would tell yourself to not stare for too long.

“Holy shit, I’m sorry.” You said and closed the door immediately. You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you tried to shake the same feeling away. Dean was good at reading people and you had to be careful with your silly little crush. You didn’t want to make things awkward.

Dean opened the door, still wearing only a towel.

“You done?” You refused to look at him. Your eyes were looking at the bathroom door right behind him.

“Yeah.” He said. He was admiring the sight before him. Your locks of hair gently touching your shoulders, white towel wrapped around you, you looked tired and beautiful. I will lose my damn mind.

You just nodded and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Deep breaths didn't help, your heartbeat was in your throat, while your body felt unfamiliar and tense.

Meanwhile Dean got dressed and went to bed trying desperately to not think about the view he saw minutes ago. He failed.

Great, now I have a boner.

In the bathroom you took your sweet time to really enjoy the shower. You liked steaming hot showers, your philosophy was: if the skin wasn’t red afterwards, the shower wasn't good enough. You've always loved being hot, summer was your favorite holiday, hot coffee was your favorite drink; you sometimes wondered if your ability shaped your whole personality…BUT feeling hot and bothered because of a man was another story. It wasn't any man, it was Dean Winchester. You shook the sweet sinful thoughts of you and him doing the horizontal tango and focused on washing the shampoo from your hair.

After the shower you brushed your teeth and got into an oversized Mötley Crüe shirt you bought a few years ago in a random music store in Kansas. It covered your ass and was perfect for sleeping. Plus it reminded you of the things that once were and bittersweet memories of your almost normal life.

I wonder how his lips taste. God, I really want to bite his perfect little nose.

You shook your head.

No….skin care!

After finishing your skin care, which only consisted of one serum, you stepped out of the bathroom and saw Dean on his phone, pretending to not scan you as you went under the covers.

God, I love that shirt on her.

I should really do something before Sam gets back.

"(Y/N)?" You heard him as you were trying to get comfortable in a shitty motel bed.

"Yeah?"

She's too young for me.

She doesn't like me.

It's weird.

"Do you still wish to be normal?"

Stupid fucking question.

"Not really, why?"

Dean swallowed nervously, not knowing where to take this conversation.

You were surprised by his question. Why is he asking me this?

"Just wondering, I know how messed up you were when we met."

"You and Sam really helped me accept that part of myself. It's not something I would change." You were lying on your side, facing Dean. Something seemed off about him and you noticed. It felt like secrets were lingering in the air and he refused to say anything. The air was tense. You were nervous.

Maybe I'll get lucky tonight.

You're not in a porn movie (Y/N)! Snap out of it! He probably thinks I'm too young for him?

Should I do something though?

What is he hiding from me?

"Plus, I really like being a walking, talking Zippo lighter." You finally added, reminding him of his little comparison.

He chuckled. "You know, I have one and it's not as badass as you."

You felt your cheeks burning up. You were trying to determine if it was his comment or warm air in the room.

"Yeah well, I'm a collector's item. Unique, I guess." You said and sat up on the edge of the bed. You looked at your left hand before it was engulfed in fire. Dean was watching you closely, hypnotized by the flame. You wanted to try something you have been practicing for a while.

"Open your Zippo, Dean." You told him. He went to the sofa and got his lighter from his jacket. He was only in his boxers but you were too focused on the flame in your hand to fully process.

He opened the silver Zippo he had had for years and before he could say anything you snapped your fingers and a small flame started flying in the air before it settled on the wick.

"Holy shit that's awesome!"

"Yeah? Been practicing control for a bit."

"Well good job Zippie! This is fucking amazing!" For a second he sounded like an excited child in an amusement park.

You chuckled. Zippie. You liked when he gave you nicknames and occasional terms of endearment like sweetheart or darling. It made your little heart dance.

"I really like that." You said and formed a fist making the whole flame disappear from your hand and his lighter.

"What?" He asked. His voice was deep but something changed. You couldn't put a finger on it but your gut was telling you something good was lingering just around the corner. His face was a dead giveaway. You knew Dean, not long, but long enough to recognise the look he had whenever he wanted to devour a woman alive. You’ve seen it like ten times in the past few months. He was a flirty type.

His face was relaxed, smoldering eyes burning right through you, occasionally licking his perfect plum lips.

He likes me.

"I like the nickname Zippie." You finally said as you snapped back to reality.

He didn't say anything. He just put his lighter back in the pocket of his leather jacket and sat on your bed.

"Can I tell you something, Zippie?"

"Yeah, you can." You said, your voice struggling not to completely disappear.

"When I say I think you're badass I really mean that. You're really something else…"

Why can't I just tell her?

You smiled. You knew he thought your ability was awesome but to hear him say it was something else. It was from the heart.

"I believe you."

You sat next to him and put your index finger in front of him. A small yellow flame appeared.

"Make a wish!" You said. He wasn't sure why you did that but he knew exactly what to wish for.

I wish you would kiss me back.

Dean closed his eyes and blew the candle that was your finger.

After he did it, you did exactly the same.

I wish you would kiss me.

"What did you wish for?" You said, not noticing how close your faces were.

"This!" And with that Dean closed the gap between you with a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste the hint of mint right away from his toothpaste while your hand went to cup his cheek before you decided to sit on his lap. Your forehead was resting on his when you broke the kiss.

"I wished the same thing." You confessed.

His hand went in your hair as he smiled and kissed you again, this time letting you know he wanted more. He wanted it all.

You moaned into the kiss and you placed your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer. His kisses were addictive, sweet and with a taste of something you have never experienced before – lust. You’ve kissed a few, you’ve made out with the few, but never actually felt wanted enough to sleep with someone. Until now.

You broke the kiss, panting like you just ran a marathon.

“Sam’s going to kill you, y’know?” You said as his lips drifted to your neck, leaving a small trail of kisses all over.

“Why do you think that?” He was, of course, clueless.

“It’s not like you’re 15 years older than me Dean.” You said sarcastically. “Plus he sees me as his younger sister.”

“Ew gross!” He answered between kisses. “I mean…I thought I’m too old for you but–”

“But nothing.” You cut him off. “It’s not like I’m 16, give me a break! Plus 35 is a perfect age for a man.”

Dean lifted his head up to look at you, his green eyes were sparkling and his lips were smiling. “You think so?”

“Yeah I know so! Sam showed me your old photos when you were in your early 20s. You are aging like fine wine.”

It was true. You and Sam were rummaging through old boxes on a random, rarely free, Sunday when you found old photos of the brothers throughout the years. Dean in his early 20s was an innocent, breathtaking boy with a stunning smile on his face. He would protect you and make sure you were safe, whilst Dean in his early 30s would kill for you and make sure you were far from danger. Dean in his early 30s was tired and wise, body and soul filled with scars, but beauty intact.

Dean’s smile became a smirk. He nodded, accepting the compliment before he kissed you again. His hands went under your shirt, his fingers tracing all over your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. In response you started to slowly move your hips and grind against him, feeling how hard he already was. It then hit you. You didn’t tell him.

“Dean?” You said breaking the kiss…again.

“Huh?”

“I have a thing I forgot to tell you.” You started. You felt nervous even though you didn’t know why. It wasn’t a big deal and you knew that, The only question was how to properly articulate it.

“Spill it!” He looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes, excited about what you would say next. Who knew he was like a puppy when he liked someone.

“You’re going to be my first.” You finally spilled it after a few seconds of silence.

He tilted his head slightly. “You mean your first DILF?”

You sighed and gave him a bitch face. Too much time with Sam was rubbing off on you. “You’re not a father as far as I know, Dean! No, like the first guy I’m gonna sleep with!”

His lips formed a small O when you told him.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure you want to though?” He then asked, even though he already knew the answer. You trusted him. He trusted you.

“Yeah. Now shut up and kiss me, will ya?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked.

This kiss seemed different, needy and filled with lust and adoration. It felt like he was holding everything back until now. It felt like you finally got to taste your favorite wine, so sweet and addictive. You couldn't get enough of it.

You leaned in, urging him to follow you as you fell into the mattress. While you were kissing, you couldn't help but slowly move your hips, grinding against him, feeling how hard he was. It was a brand new feeling. You liked the idea of him getting all hot and bothered because of you. He moaned into the kiss, growing impatient before he took your shirt off, exposing you completely. You thought you were going to be shy and hide your body from him, but something about Dean made you feel comfortable and free.

"You're so beautiful." He said in pure adoration.

"You're making me blush." You said and meant it. His words were meaningful and true. No other person has ever made you believe the things they said. That was why you didn't even bother to go all the way with people you have been seeing. You could read right through them and see their true intentions.

Your hands were roaming freely all over his body. He was all muscles and covered in scars, each one telling a story of his life as a hunter.

He took his time on you, making sure you were comfortable and relaxed for him. His right hand went down to your naked body, feeling every bump and inch of your skin. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh. When he reached the most sensitive spot between your legs his thumb started to rub you in a circular motion while his lips never left your neck. .

“You like that?” He asked between kisses.

The only thing that escaped from your lips was a light: “Aha.”

“Good.”

He took your panties off exposing you completely under him. Soon his boxers followed. When you saw how big he actually was you swallowed nervously wondering how much it would hurt. You knew first times always hurt and it usually sucked, but so far you were enjoying every minute of it. He knew which buttons to push and which places to kiss.

He positioned himself between your legs and slowly entered you. You were holding on to his back, fingers deep in his skin as you gasped in discomfort. It hurt but it wasn’t as bad as you expected.

“Holy shit!” You said under your breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…just….move!”

He nodded and started to move slowly. It still hurt but after every slow thrust, it hurt a little bit less and less, until the pleasure took over the pain almost completely. He was taking it slow while kissing every inch of your skin he could get his lips on. You were breathing into each other while his thrusts became faster and stronger. You could feel yourself getting warmer and something in the lower part of your stomach. You weren’t sure what it was but you liked it.

“You’re hot!” He noticed, feeling your body temperature rise after every thrust.

“I feel weird!” You whispered into his ear before placing a kiss on his neck. “I think I’m close!”

It felt like a rollercoaster but instead of going up and down; you only went up until you couldn’t take anymore and just crashed. But the thing was your body temperature kept rising and rising until you reached your breaking point. You were both panting, gasping for air, your hands were leaving light scratches on Dean’s back and yet he didn’t even flinch.

“FUCK!” You moaned, feeling the orgasm pierce through you. Your lips were parted, back slightly arched under Dean, but your eyes changed color – two yellow sparks appeared as you were experiencing your first big O.

“Dean!” His name didn’t leave your lips, just like a cigarette of a smoker.

Dean didn’t stop until you came down from the euphoric high. He watched your eyes go back to your normal color, following your body temperature.

When he stopped moving and collapsed on you, you kissed him on the lips and did what you’ve always wanted to do – you bit his nose.

“Why did you do that?” He smiled in confusion.

“You have a perfect nose and for some reason I’ve always wanted to bite it.” You explained.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He moved next to you, covered in sweat, wondering what he saw a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), did you feel your temperature rise before you came?”

“Yeah. It was weird and yet it felt amazing.”

“Yeah your eyes also changed color.” He added, thinking how perfect your nickname was. Zippie the human lighter.

“Changed color?”

“Yeah they were yellow, like you had sparks in your eyes.”

“Awesome!” You said and kissed his shoulder. “Sam is still going to kill you though!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah!”

That night you slept in separate beds since Sam was sharing the room with you. He came back three hours later and by that time you were both fast asleep.

The next morning during breakfast in the nearby diner, between stuffing your face with eggs and bacon, you decided to be a little bit of a dick.

“Sam, I found out something new about myself.”

Sam took a sip of his black coffee. “Really? What?”

Dean was ignoring the whole conversation, eating his pancakes.

“My body temperature rises and my eyes sparkle whenever I have an orgasm!”

Dean choked on his pancakes, while Sam stayed silent in shock before looking at Dean giving him his iconic bitch face.

“Really, Dean?”

“Zippie, you’re a dick!” He told you.

“Your dick now since you like me that much, handsome!” You winked at him.

435 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 2 years

Text

Labyrinth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: A dangerous Wendigo hunt takes the Winchesters and their companion to an abandoned mine shaft and a maze of tunnels. Dean, on the other hand, not only has to find an exit in an underground cave system but also fights against his feelings for a young huntress as he battles through a labyrinth of thoughts and fears.

Warnings: a bit of language, angst, a trifecta of monsters, caves & earthquakes, canon-level violence, injuries & rebars, protective!Dean, idiots in love, silly jealousy, fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Written as a request for @tieddown-withbattleshipchains. Hope this scratches the itch! It turned out a little angstier because Wendigos scare the shit outta me, but there’s tons of fluff in between and certainly at the end! 🥰 Inspired by Labyrinth by Taylor Swift (Duh. What else? 😂) and my favorite horror flick The Descent. Enjoy!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Have you ever loved someone so much that just being in their distanced proximity hurts your heart? Loved someone so much that every time they pass you by, their scent drives you mad, their voice gives you shivers, and your own words fail to come clean? So much that lunacy seems like sanity?

Well, Dean pretty much feels precisely like this, feels like he’s going slowly but surely insane as he trails behind Y/N through the woods of Montana. Every wind, even the tiniest breeze, wafts microscopic particles of her perfume into his nostrils, causing him to bite the insides of his cheeks harder, hoping the metallic taste will erase everything that is her. So far, not even the intense smell of pine helps, though. For the last half an hour, all he keeps thinking about is the huntress he’s known for years, wondering if he were able to taste the M&Ms she ate earlier in the car on her tongue once he would finally gather enough courage to kiss her – not that this fantasy would ever be maintainable in the first place.

It’s like a kid’s dream. Dean’s a rockstar, an astronaut, and a pilot all at once whenever he’s near her.

“I think we should be there in an hour,” Y/N muses and halts in her boots to check map and compass, Sam instantly joining her to take a look over her shoulder. “The mine shaft and the cave system are a few miles up the mountain. If we follow the trail along the river, it should lead us right there.”

“Sounds good. We still have enough daylight,” Sam agrees with a resolute nod and a look to the sky, where the sun is still standing high above their heads.

Dean, on the other hand, ignores the eerie feeling in his gut. Aware Y/N is a seasoned hunter with a superb skill set, he knows there’s no real reason for him to worry more than he should. She can handle herself; she always could. It’s a hunt like any other, one of many over the years. Hell, it’s not even the first Wendigo they’ve hunted together. There was another one three years back in Michigan. So truly, what’s different this time?

Right, his fucking feelings…

Y/N and Sam keep chatting as they cheerily march up the mountain, their breaths not even remotely labored, even though the climb is pretty steep. Apparently, going for a jog every morning pays off. Dean, however, stays quiet and trails behind them, green eyes observing their surroundings as he swallows the tiny bit of apprehension and jealousy down.

“You’re quiet today,” Y/N notes and purposely falls back to his speed as Sam wanders ahead – not before the younger Winchester shoots his older brother a secret look that says tell her, though. “You okay?”

The green-eyed hunter mirrors the small smile on her lips and nods, gulping, “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Y/N accepts with a slight pout, although she’s obviously far away from buying his lie. She licks her lips and adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders. “So, uhm, after the hunt, I figured we could check out that bar across the motel?”

“Sounds good,” Dean agrees, his smile widening and cheeks blushing, even though it’s just the usual hunter invitation to celebrate the end of a case.

“Okay, great,” Y/N lets out a small breath of relief. Was she nervous to ask him? Why the hell would she be? “I actually have to tell you something, so I could use a little liquid courage.”

Dean’s brow furrows, his heart rate accelerating. “Liquid courage? For what? You know you can always tell me everything.”

“Not everything,” Y/N mumbles and averts her gaze to the trail ahead.

“C’mon, what is it?” Maybe it’s wishful thinking or sheer curiosity, but Dean can’t help it and hopes she feels the same way he does, although it sounds like complete insanity again. She’ll probably only confess that she’s been in love with Sam this whole time. He is the smarter choice, after all. Just look at that flawless mane of hair!

Y/N only shakes her head at him and hides a mischievous grin behind her lip bite. “Nuh-uh, forget it. Not drunk enough yet,” she says and then hops forward to join Sam again.

After an hour, the three hunters finally reach the mine shaft that leads to an intricate cave system – the perfect hideout for a monster. Eight women disappeared here last week, the location a popular hotspot for everyone who seeks thrills and adventures. Dean doesn’t count himself as one of those people. His life is adventurous enough as is. Frankly, he would’ve preferred pay-per-view at the motel over this hellish trip.

Equipped with flashlights, the three carefully stalk inside. It’s incredibly dark and humid, low growls echoing off the stony, muddy walls, so the hunters know they’ve found the right place. The monster is definitely here, even though it still sounds miles away, which isn’t ideal. It only means they have to venture further in, and Dean already hates this with every fiber of his goddamn being. Caves are not exactly his favorite hunting grounds. Y/N, however, seems as fearless as ever, and Dean can’t help but admire her endless bravery. Obviously, she’s so out of his league it’s not even a little bit funny.

“Did you guys hear that?” Y/N stops in her tracks, her ears perked as she surveys the array of noises that bleed through.

“Woman’s voice?” Dean checks, although he’s sure all three of them can hear the faint screams and whimpers.

“One of ‘em is still alive, apparently,” Sam muses, concern and sympathy etched into his brow.

“I think it’s coming from here,” Y/N says and holds her ear to a small cave opening in the wall – if you can even call it that, the entrance as big as a cartoonish mouse hole.

“We can’t fit in there. We need to find another way around it,” Sam informs them and pulls out the cave map they’ve received from a park ranger.

“You guys can’t fit in there.”

“What?!” Dean’s head snaps to Y/N as soon as those words leave her mouth, seeing the gears turning in her head.

“I’m small… unlike my broad-shouldered friends. I can fit,” she shrugs casually as if it wasn’t the craziest suggestion she’d ever made.

“Mm-mm, no. You’re not squeezing through a small tunnel with a monster waiting for you on the other side, Y/N,” Dean tells her sternly, only one sharp tone away from making it a full-on order.

“Dean, she might be dead by the time we get there. I can do this,” Y/N assures him. “This isn��t my first Wendigo, you know?”

As Dean glances at Sam for some support, surely convinced his little brother would come to the same conclusion, the green-eyed hunter soon notices Sam’s suspicious silence on the subject matter and frowns. So much for brotherly support…

“Dean, it might be the only way to save that girl,” Sam agrees. Of course, the gentle giant does.

“Alright, so we all agree,” Y/N smiles and throws her backpack on the ground, pulling out a few flares, a machete, and a lighter.

“No, we don’t,” Dean shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t agree. Not at all. Very much disagree with this plan, in fact.”

“Okay, noted. It’s still two against one, so sorry. Guess you’re losing this one, De,” Y/N says simply and then puts the flashlight into her mouth, proceeding to crawl through the narrow opening.

Dean’s close to grabbing her ankles and pulling her back out, not caring about any surefire protests on her part and the huntress’s wrath as his heart pounds so harshly and loudly against his ribs it almost sounds like a Neil Peart drum solo in his chest.

“Y/N, you still okay?” Dean checks after a minute when the soles of her shoes have disappeared from his sight. As he shines his flashlight into the tunnel, he recognizes her a few feet ahead. “I don’t like this,” he tells Sam, chewing roughly on his plump bottom lip while his brow is in a constant crinkle.

“Me neither, but it’s the only choice we have, Dean,” Sam counters and focuses back on the map in his hands.

“Oh, is it?!” Dean mocks in sheer sibling annoyance. “You better find out where that tunnel leads and how we can fucking get there,” he barks as the anxiety claims his lungs. “Fast.”

“Already on it,” Sam assures him.

Dean’s heart only gets a single second free of concern, though, before Y/N’s voice rings every alarm bell in his goddamn head.

“Guys? There’s something wrong here. And there’s definitely blood and… stuff in this tunnel,” Y/N informs them, her voice barely audible the farther she gets. “It’s really gross…”

“Okay, Y/N, just get back out here. We’ll find another way,” Dean orders her, his flashlight and eyes unable to see her as he peers into the hole again. Her sweet voice is all he has left now.

“I-I don’t think I can move back out, De,” she says, her tone laced with slight panic now. “This thing is kinda tight. Kinda like… You know what? Never mind.” Dean knows she attempted a dirty joke there, one he certainly would’ve appreciated if he wasn’t currently fearing for her life. “I can only go forward. Just meet me at the end, okay?”

Quite panicked himself at this point, the green-eyed hunter turns back to his brother, “You found it yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s that way,” Sam muses and points at one of three tunnel options ahead.

“You think or you know, Sam?!”

And because misery loves company, at this exact moment, the ground, the walls, the ceiling all suddenly begin to violently shake and tremble, small pieces of stone and dirt coming loose. There’s a “shit” echoing through Y/N’s tunnel that reaches the hunter’s ears before more rumblings follow, more stones fall, and the tunnel closes completely and cuts the huntress off from the brothers.

“Was that a fucking earthquake?” Dean tries to shield his head from falling debris and coughs the dirt from his lungs before frantically checking the small tunnel for proof of life, but all he can see is dirt, dust, and more stones. “Y/N? Y/N! Are you alright, sweetheart? FUCK!”

“Dean, c’mon, we’ll find her,” Sam soothes and heads for the far left tunnel opening.

“Why is there a fucking earthquake in Montana? It’s not freaking California,” Dean huffs as he stomps behind his little brother, hoping the huntress is still alive and not hurt too badly as he speeds up his strides. Either she’s been crushed to death, or a monster will munch on her, and needless to say, neither option is acceptable to him.

“Actually, Montana has seven to ten every day, which makes it the fourth most seismically active state,” Sam shares his National Geographic knowledge nonchalantly, earning him an angry scowl from the green-eyed hunter.

Yeah, guess what – Dean’s not super interested in random nerd facts right now.

There’s a loud scream that echoes through the cave system, and for an agonizing heartbeat, Dean halts in his boots as he recognizes the voice. No doubt it’s Y/N’s, and his feet set into motion and start running, following the noises of struggle as he rounds corner after corner, blindly running into different tunnels as Sam tries to keep up with him.

The maze of cave tunnels feels as familiar as his mind, a labyrinth of unknown paths that lead him to different options. But the green-eyed hunter doesn’t need a map anymore; he knows exactly where to find her without wasting a single thought on it. His heart is still the best navigation system.

There’s a flicker of red light at the end of his path, and Dean knows Y/N is close. There are growls and hisses before he hears the huntress desperately call his name – his and not Sam’s. It definitely shouldn’t warm his heart the way it does, especially in a life-or-death situation like this, but Dean literally can’t help the slight relief and happiness he feels in his chest over that fact, although he probably shouldn’t read too much into it.

Y/N’s brightly burning flare comes into view first before his emerald eyes spot the huntress on the ground and then the monster. She’s fending off the Wendigo as best as she can, keeping it at bay as she waves her flare in the air like a weapon, but Dean notices soon enough that she can’t move much and is hurt badly.

The older hunter quickly grabs the hairspray, pushes down on the dispenser, and lights the aerosol mist of chemicals on fire with his lighter – Y/N’s genius idea for a weapon, which she came up with in the motel room before their hunt. The flames shoot out and set the monstrous bastard on fire while Sam aims the flamethrower and incinerates the monster for good. Tarantino style, as Dean likes to call it. Unfortunately, he lost the round of Rock, Paper, Scissors over the glorious weapon to his younger brother, but truthfully, the hairspray was still satisfying enough.

As the monster turns to ash, Sam runs to the half-alive victim tied to a pole while Dean rushes to the huntress’s side. He cups her cheeks as she winces, inspecting her whole body and assessing her for injuries when he notices the small piece of rebar stuck in the side of her stomach, blood oozing out around the metal and pooling underneath her body.

“Ow, shit,” Y/N hisses and tries to wiggle, hand curling around his bicep. Dean’s hands quickly steady her before she accidentally drives the damn thing even deeper into her body.

“Shhh, don’t move, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay, alright?” Dean assures her, although he’s frankly not sure if his calming words are more for his sake than hers. “Just breathe in and breathe out... There you go.”

“I-I don’t… I’m, uhm…,” Y/N trails off, her eyelids fighting to stay open, and his heart only begins to hammer louder in his ribcage, drumming in his ears.

“Y/N? Y/N, stay awake for me, okay?” But her eyes close for good, her palm lifelessly dropping from his arm to the ground. “SAM!”

“Dean, you can’t keep staring at her,” Sam reminds him, his voice only faintly audible behind the green-eyed hunter as his mind solely focuses on Y/N’s unconscious body in the motel room bed. “She’s gonna be creeped out when she wakes up.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles and hears Sam’s sigh of frustration and resignation.

“Alright, Twilight. I’ll grab more stuff from the pharmacy. She’s gonna need it,” Sam announces, hand reaching for the doorknob. “Be back in a few.”

As the door of the small motel room closes, Dean lets his head fall between his knees as he sits on the chair next to her bed, the tension still very much prominent in his shoulders and neck, although she should be in the clear by now. It certainly has been touch-and-go for a while, Y/N drifting in and out of consciousness, passing out from the pain as the brothers carefully removed the sharp piece of metal from her lower abdomen and stitched her up. Sam even had to send the older Winchester for a calming drive in the Impala while the younger one tended to her injuries, not being able to work with Dean’s constant yelling in his ears. The green-eyed hunter had surely been close to a breakdown. Luckily, they could forgo the hospital this time, the rebar not piercing through any serious organs and rupturing a spleen or a kidney.

His green eyes drift to her sleeping form. She seems a lot better now, some pinkish color having returned to her cheeks. Y/N always scares him, usually because she’s so much smarter and tougher than him, and every time he tried to order her around in the past always backfired, with her almost biting his whole head off. This time, though, she terrified him in a completely different way. She was pale, white as a sheet in his arms as he rushed her down the mountain. He swears he’s never run faster in his life. Even Sam, the professional jogger and marathon runner, could barely keep up, and Dean still feels the aching blisters from his boots whenever he shuffles on his feet too much.

“What would I have done if you died, huh?” the hunter mutters under his breath to no one in particular, knowing she’s dead asleep, and screws open the cap of his flask, taking a big gulp of whiskey, letting the burning liquid numb his throat. “You know if I lost you…” Another sip keeps the pricking tears in his green orbs at bay while his mind is battling a breakthrough. “I-I just… I can’t do that, you know? Probably would take me my whole life to get over you. I know you don’t know that, but you’re really important to me, y’know? I mean, hell, you can’t hear me anyways, so I might actually admit it for once,” he sighs at his own stupidity, fingers tapping against the silver flask. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N… for a while, actually. At least, I think that’s what all those icky twinges in my chest are. Doesn’t feel like heartburn, like after eating a cheeseburger... I mean, they’re pretty much only there whenever you’re around, so that’s gotta be it, right? Love. Not like I have a lot of experience with that… I mean, not that I’m a virgin. I’ve had sex, you know? I just… I’ve never done the feelings thing. At least not well, I guess. So, in that case, you could probably say I’m a feelings virgin…”

Dean then groans loudly and lets his head drop into his palms, rubbing a hand across his freckled face. “Jesus fucking Christ, fuck me. God, I sound like an idiot… Thank God you can’t hear me. This is like the worst trial run ever… I mean, not like I would actually ever have enough courage to tell you all that shit while you’re actually awake, you know? I’m kinda a coward when it comes to that stuff. I mean, let’s be honest here for a second, you don’t care about me, right? You probably have the hots for Sammy. Can’t really blame you. You know, I’m not a girl, but I get it. Sometimes I’d like to tug on that hair too, so…”

And that’s when Dean’s muscles suddenly stiffen, his cheeks draining all color as he notices Y/N’s whole body quaking. His heart stops as he hears the first few snorts that slowly morph into a giggle and then into a full-on laugh.

Shit…

“Are you fucking awake?!”

Y/N pops one eye open at first, carefully checking the extent of his angered shock before she dares to pry open the second one, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in her orbs and an amused smile shaping on her pink lips.

“Okay… How much did you hear?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as much as she can and chuckles, “Well, pretty much… all of it.”

Dean scoffs, shaking his head as the tips of his ears turn beet red in shame. “What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while a man pours his heart out, huh? You know, I thought you were practically fucking dead!”

Y/N snorts and rolls her eyes. “You did not. And I think you mean, ‘What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while an idiot pours his heart out?’”

“Okay, haha, funny,” Dean huffs and chugs his flask. Is it too late to go back to that cave and hope the Wendigo eats him? “Can we just pretend this never happened before Sam gets back, please?”

Y/N responds with a casual twitch of her shoulders as she props herself up on the mattress. “I mean, sure… If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want, okay?” Dean affirms, nodding. “Don’t want shit to be awkward between us from now on, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I totally get it,” Y/N agrees. “I mean, it would be pretty awkward for you if I didn’t feel the same way about you, which I do.”

“Yeah, see? Glad you get it,” the hunter huffs before his head snaps to her, green eyes widening and growing to the size of the moon. “Wait, what?!”

Y/N’s laughter then fills the motel room, but he can barely hear it over his own pounding heartbeat. Did she just say what he thinks she said? No, right? He heard that wrong. Jesus fuck, he better not make an even bigger fool out of himself.

“You’re cute,” Y/N tells him then and starts chewing on her lower lip.

Dean swallows thickly. “What, uh, what does that mean?”

“Jesus, you really are a feelings virgin,” she snorts another laugh and winces, all the giggles hurting her freshly stitched wound. Good, Dean thinks. She surely deserves that pain.

His cheeks heat up as he awkwardly clears his throat. “Wha-, uh… Let’s not make that a thing, okay? Please?”

“Oh, it’s totally gonna be a thing,” Y/N teases, chuckling.

“Great, mhm…” God, someone help him.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hm, yeah?”

Y/N doesn’t say anything more – all he feels then is her soft lips pressing against his. The tension finally dissipates from his shoulders, his muscles relaxing as he leans into the kiss, his heart thumping wildly in his chest before it drops between his boots. He breathes her in, breathes into the kiss as her tongue slyly sneaks into his mouth and deepens the overwhelming passion as his head becomes dizzier the longer it lasts.

As he fervently kisses her back, he has finally found the right exit and leaves the labyrinth of his mind behind him. He’s on the right path, and it’s goddamn better than his imagination.

A few more one-shots are coming your way this week, so stay tuned, my loves, and let me know if you enjoyed this fic 🥰🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy

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nev3rfound · 1 year

Text

in your own time: b.b

it's supposed to be easy, just be a lookout, bucky said. yet, here you are, lying on the concrete slowly watching the grey darken with crimson. (2k)

warnings - graphic descriptions of bullet wounds, violence, blood, angst, but a fluffy ending.

thank you to @tieddown-withbattleshipchains for the request, hope you all enjoy!

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

This sort of thing was bound to happen, hell, it comes with the profession. Though you never did sign that waiver stating you'd take a bullet for someone, that just came from your own slightly messed up instincts.

It was supposed to be easy, a simple lookout position. You should've known better by now that no lookout remains on the sidelines, everyone ends up front and centre somehow even if it's not planned. And sadly, most of the plan went to shit the moment John Walker barged into the place.

"Shit." Breathing out, you quickly move away from the balcony as John marches in past Sam, tailing Bucky.

Reaching the ground floor, your focus fixates on finding Bucky. Zemo starts talking but your tunnel vision blanks his reasonings to be released as you cautiously enter the next section of the derelict building.

"-it's all your fault, none of this should be allowed." Your ears start to perk up at the aggression in Walker's tone. Turning the corner you can see him standing above Karli, Bucky in close range behind her holding his hands out in surrender.

"John, just take a step back, yeah? You don't wanna do this." Bucky dares to step closer, only for John's attention to shift and point a gun at Bucky, removing the safety swiftly.

Bucky's gaze flickers at the sound of rubble being trodden on, and his eyes find you with a heavy heart. He tries to convey his desperation for you to leave, but as always, you persist.

"I don't have a choice, Barnes." John's voice trembles with fury, and you can faintly see the gun shaking in his grasp.

"There's always a choice." Bucky retorts, trying to mentally configure a way out to ensure your safety. But before he can finalize the mental details, everything happens at once.

The sound of your yell, John falling to the ground with a thud and the gun going off almost too quietly before your body falling limp on the ground whilst clutching your stomach.

Sam rushes into the room at the commotion, noticing you before Bucky has a chance to adjust.

"No, no, no." Sam cradles your body in his arms, watching your skin begin to lose its brightness, fading away as your lips start to quiver and tears fall freely down your face.

"Knew it'd happen sometime." You wheezily joke, barely feeling Sam's fingers glide across your cheeks before he looks up to Bucky who mirrors his fear.

With slow movements, your head falls to the side to see Bucky staring at you in disbelief, waves washing over his eyes as he starts shaking his head rapidly. "No!" He screams at Walker, still breathing heavily on the ground, seemingly oblivious to what he's done.

Yet, Bucky simply clenches his fists and stands over John, noticing some blood dripping down his face. Good, Bucky thinks to himself. But not good enough.

Your eyes begin to blur when Bucky starts punching John. His fists collide with his cheeks first, rolling his head side to side as if he were a doll. John's face is becoming unrecognizable, but so is Bucky's. It's a horrible ordeal, yet one you can't help but tear your eyes from.

Bucky continues with his punches, his fists now slamming down together on John's chest, his face already having sustained more than enough to be bloody for now. John's coughing blood, dripping from his nose, ears, and mouth, but Bucky prevails, muttering your name before he strikes John square in the jaw, watching his eyes roll back into unconsciousness.

Breathing heavily, Bucky slides off America's new hero and struggles toward you. With bloodied fists, his hand reaches for yours now coated in crimson.

"He got me good, Buck." You weakly chuckle, trying, fighting against every fibre in your body telling you to just let go, close your eyes, and the pain will be over. "But you got him beat there." The words leave your lips in a whisper, feeling your body almost sinking into the ground despite Sam holding onto you tightly whilst Bucky raises your hand to his lips, muttering pleas and his love for you.

"Don't go, doll. Not now, not like this." Bucky hates how vulnerable he feels, and how he let this happen. It shouldn't be like this, it never should've been an option in the first place. "There's gotta be something, right?" Bucky's desperation drips with every word.

Defeated, Sam just lowers his head. "She's lost too much blood, Bucky." Sam hates to say it but knows Bucky will never admit it aloud.

"We can get her help." A new voice pipes up, and Bucky points his gun in their direction, not caring who it is.

Moving closer despite the gun aimed at him, Zemo sighs at the sight. Your eyes now glossing over, lips parted, and not enough blood in your system to keep your heart beating. "There's help outside, they had been notified the moment a gunshot was heard, come on." Zemo explains, but neither of the men seems to be able to move.

"Come on!" Zemo insists, raising his voice and bending down to help, only to be met by the barrel of the gun at his forehead.

"Do not touch her." Bucky spits every word at the man. "It'll be okay, Y/n." Bucky's voice softens as he cradles your cheek, looking up to Sam who nods. "We're gonna get you help, and you'll pull through, yeah?"

The three of them know you're past being able to hear them. Your blinks become fleeting, but your lips start to move when the three try and lift you off the ground.

Bucky knows he'll have nightmares about the cries and screams flooding his eardrums as he holds you close to his chest. He tries to overrule them with comfort, but it's no use. Your screams of agony start to die down once sunlight casts across your face and you're forced onto a gurney, then everything simply fades.

"Ugh." You groan loudly, hitting the button above you repeatedly just to see the same nurse stroll on in with their arms crossed.

"Miss Y/l/n, we've told you before, you can't just ring for us if you're bored." The Nurse sighs, having lost count now of how many times you've clicked the bell either purposefully or accidentally.

Rolling your eyes, you start to push your body up only to be met with a coursing pain through your abdomen. The nurse paces towards you, resting her hand on your shoulder with a sympathetic glance crossing her eyes briefly.

"It's still too soon for you to be making any sudden movements like that, your stitches are still fresh." She reminds you, only to be met back with a huff.

"Can I at least have some more painkillers? This thing hurts like a bitch, Van." You half chuckle, meaning every word.

Van looks down at her watch and shakes her head. "Not for another few hours, but it's almost lunchtime." She tries to cheer you up with that knowledge, but it's little to no use. Holding her hands up in defense at your scowl, she reminds you of the same thing. "We're under strict orders here from Mr Barnes, I don't make the rules here!"

Returning to solitude, you pick up the notes that sit by your bedside, recording all of your injuries sustained by the asshole known as John Walker.

Your eyes have scanned over the list numerous times now. Lodged bullet in the abdomen, inches from the liver. Sustained severe head trauma. Significant blood loss.

"Just great." You repeat yourself out of boredom, you've never been good at patiently healing after a mission.

Usually, Bucky cheers you on, knowing you'll bounce back and mess about with Sam in no time. But this is different, you knew it the moment you woke up from surgery to see Bucky clinging to your hand so tight he was afraid if he let go, you'd slip from his grasp forevermore.

That was two weeks ago, and you're still in the private ward. The same four walls have been permanently embedded into your brain whenever you close your eyes along with the repetitive bleeping of machines.

A gentle knock on the door frame averts your attention from the white wall, and instead, a handsome smile adorns Bucky's face. "Hey, pretty boy." You tease. "Here to sweep me off my feet? Though I'd advise against that, maybe just sweep me off this godforsaken bed and into that wheelchair, huh?" Motioning to the barely used wheelchair, Bucky sits on the vacant chair next to you.

"Do I dare ask how you're feeling?" Bucky teases, a half smile forming on his lips. "Or do you wanna tip toe 'round it?"

Humming to yourself, you reach for his hand and squeeze it tightly. "I'm just so tired, Buck." You exhale deeply. "I think the nurses and doctors are almost wishing for a faster recovery than this just to get rid of me."

Bucky chuckles at that, knowing it to be true. From the moment you were wheeled into the hospital, they took you away before he could say anything to you. Ever since you woke up, he's made sure to keep a watchful eye on everything that is going on internally and externally in your recovery.

"Well," Bucky starts, leaning on his left side as he turns to face the door, greeting Sam.

"No way," The smile on your face widens in delight, a sight Bucky can't help but wish to etch into his mind, to ensure it never fades. "two in one day? Man, I must be special." You joke, feeling Bucky squeeze your hand lightly.

Taking the seat on the opposite side of the bed, Sam pats your shoulder gently. "Today is your lucky day, Y/n I'll give you that." He jests, watching your expression quickly change to one of confusion as the duo exchange knowing glances.

"Am I missing something here?" You dare to question, only to be met with something that couldn't be more blissful.

"We're gonna take you out to Louisiana to recover. Somewhere quiet, relaxing, and stress-free." Bucky explains, relieved to see all the tension in your body almost melt away.

"So, when we goin'?"

With your eyes closed, the warmth of the sun comforts you like a blanket, wrapping you tightly to ensure the cold cannot break in. You listen intently to the gentle waves crashing against the pier, the hum of conversation on the water from those in boats. And the sense of tranquility, something you haven't felt in a very long time.

Footsteps bounce off the deck behind you, coming to a halt by your side. A hand rests on your shoulder, making its way toward your cheek. Moving your head to the side, you embrace the gentle touch, kissing his palm before he kneels down to sit alongside you.

"Thought I'd find you here." Bucky comments, resting his arm on your lap, noting the golden glow enveloping you. "Sarah's been asking if you're ready to join everyone for dinner."

Humming, you reach down and remove the brakes from your wheelchair. Bucky moves to stand, but you quickly take hold of his hand, keeping him level with you.

"Thank you, Bucky." You lean closer toward him, ignoring the twinge in your abdomen. Resting your forehead against his, you can hear his breath tremble. Before he can ask, you kiss him softly, feeling the warmth on his lips as he can for you; a reminder that you're alive.

"I'll never let you do somethin' so reckless again, I swear doll." Bucky promises, but you shake your head much to his annoyance.

"Comes with the job, Bucky, and like I said, was gonna happen sooner or later." You chuckle, kissing his cheek before leaning back and begin to push on your wheels.

Shaking his head for a moment, Bucky catches up to walk alongside you, knowing everything would be okay after all.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)@bissstuff @psychicforest@lourightm@mywinterwolf@justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx@courtneychicken@marvelsangels@supraveng@tommy-lee-81@smilexcaptainx@fandom-princess-forevermore@sarge-barnes-sir@pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated-fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs@eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8@notbrooklynsblog@nikkixostan @cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976@sarcasticallywitty15@multi-fandom-princess07@16boyfriends-and-me@courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor@pleasantlysecretdream@yougottalovefandoms@magicalxdaydream@soccer-100000 @tenaciousperfectionunkown

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@emilyprentisslittlewhore@amelia-song-pond@buckleyx@jesuswasnotawhiteman@hallecarey1@sleutherclaw@wonderwoman292@paintballkid711@leyannrae@blackwidownat2814@lmao-ethel@fillechatoyante@evanpetersisreallyhot@i-neverasktwice@aconfusedslytherin@kpopnena@ruzannetheseahorse@yelenabelovasgf@harysty@pastelreds@it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @keyanasstuff @marvelatthisone @natblackwidow2 @bucky-stan14 @chiyongberry @stuckybarton @alexxavicry

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buckgasms · 2 years

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Something Fun!

I made a me! I mean it doesn't really look like me but it sort of does 😂

You can make one here: https://picrew.me/image_maker/332600

No pressure tags but I wanna see you (or at least your persona on here 😍) can't wait to see your gorgeous faces!

@elle14-blog1 @mandijo17 @wolfieash @nana1000night @anxiousgirlsarehotter @beliporush @sunndust @wandasbb @minervadashwood @alana-32 @tieddown-withbattleshipchains @potatothots @sweetlikehoneylavender @xonickibaby @imagine-all-the-fandoms @bunnyscraft

Reblog or tag me 😘

#pom speaks #fun thing #picrew #cartoony #mutals and friends

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alottiedup · 5 months

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Seriously focused on the thought of tying someone in a harness and leaving kisses and bites trailed along the rope lines as you lay them. Finishing the tie and straddling them as their hands are immobilized, having just the moment of eye contact before scooping under their legs and absolutely ravishing them as you carry them to a waiting bed.

Laying them out just so, climbing up between their legs and trailing fingertips up their calves... behind their knees... along their inner thigh.. knowing each sensation is that much brighter as they flex and shake in response and knowing they couldnt fight you off if they wanted

All theyd have to do is ask

Melt you with a kiss and a sigh and a quiver just ~fuck~ knowing all it would take is anything theyd give

And showing them this, giving them

Everything

#tieddown #consent is sexy #nb nsft #t4t nsft

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ganggangdance6 · 3 months

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#tieddown

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marie-swriting · 1 year

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Je Ne Peux Pas Me Permettre De Te Perdre - Bucky Barnes

Marvel Masterlist

Résumé : Tu te fais tirer dessus pendant une mission, ce qui fait que tu meurs presque dans les bras de Bucky.

Warnings : coup de feu, blessure par balle, reader qui est presque morte, un peu d'angst, John Walker, Bucky est protecteur, dites-moi si j'en ai loupés d'autres.

Nombre de mots : 3.2k

Version anglaise

NdA : Ce one shot est basé sur cette request faite par @tieddown-withbattleshipchains , en espérant que ça te plaira ! Personnellement, j'ai adoré l'écrire, ton idée était très inspirante.

Tu entres doucement dans une pièce sombre, tes sens en alerte, à l'affût d’une potentielle menace avec tes matraques en mains. Tu regardes de tous les côtés quand tu vois une ombre venir vers toi. Juste à temps, tu arrives à bloquer le coup d’une Flag Smasher avec ton arme. S’ensuit alors un combat enchainé entre toi et la femme masquée. Malgré le sérum de Supersoldat coulant dans ses veines, tu arrives à t’en sortir plutôt bien. Grâce à tes entraînements avec Bucky, tu arrives à t’adapter facilement à un combat avec une personne ayant une force décuplée. Tu arrives à donner plusieurs coups, mais pas assez pour la mettre K.O. Tu as juste réussi à lui faire perdre son masque, découvrant que ton adversaire est une femme d’environ une vingtaine d’année. Vous continuez à vous battre quand un coup de feu retentit. Les yeux grands ouverts, vous arrêtez de vous battre. En baissant les yeux sur ton ventre, tu vois du sang. La Flag Smasher te pousse avant de fuir pendant que tu tombes au sol. Tu portes ta main sur ta blessure et essayes d’y mettre de la pression, malgré la douleur.

-Y/N ? C’était quoi ça ? Tu vas bien ? demande la voix inquiète de Bucky dans ton oreillette. Y/N ! s’écrie-t-il en ne t’entendant pas répondre.

-J’ai perdu la cible, arrives-tu à articuler après quelques secondes.

-Je vais m’en occuper, informe Sam. Tout va bien de ton côté ?

Tu n’as pas la force de lui répondre, trop concentrée à ne pas te vider de ton sang. Tu balayes la pièce de tes yeux, espérant trouver le tireur, mais ne vois personne. Tu continues à regarder aux alentours à la recherche de quelque chose pour t’aider, en vain. Ta respiration se fait de plus en plus saccadée quand Bucky apparaît. Une expression inquiète prend place sur son visage alors qu’il accourt vers toi. Avant de t’atteindre, tu l’entends ordonner à Sam d’appeler les secours. Bucky s’agenouille à tes côtés, enlève tes mains et fait pression sur ta blessure. Doucement, tes paupières se font de plus en plus lourdes, mais Bucky te secoue d’une main pour te garder éveiller.

-Je t’interdis de t’endormir, tu m’entends ? Reste concentrée, Sam a appelé de l’aide, ils vont bientôt arriver.

-J’ai sommeil, balbuties-tu en le regardant avec difficulté.

-Je sais, mais tu ne peux pas fermer les yeux, d’accord ? Tu vas t’en sortir alors reste éveillée.

-Bucky, je…, commences-tu en posant ta main sur les siennes.

-Non, chut, t’interrompt Bucky avec douceur. Concentre-toi pour ne pas fermer les yeux. Tu me diras ce que t’as à me dire plus tard. Tiens bon, Y/N, tu vas t’en sortir, répète-t-il alors que ses mains se tachent un peu plus de ton sang.

Tu essayes d’écouter Bucky et fais tout pour ne pas sombrer dans le sommeil, mais plus le temps passe et plus c’est compliqué. Tu commences doucement à abandonner quand les secours arrivent vers vous. Au loin, tu entends juste Bucky hurler ton prénom pendant que tu sombres.

Quand tu ouvres les yeux, tu te sens attaquée par la lumière du lieu. Tu les refermes pendant une seconde avant de les rouvrir plus lentement. Quand tu t’habitues enfin à la luminosité, tu analyses ton environnement et réalises que tu es dans une chambre d’hôpital. Tes yeux se posent sur Bucky qui est assis à tes côtés, ses mains tenant ta main droite alors qu’il est perdu dans tes pensées. Tu bouges légèrement tes doigts pour attirer son attention. En sentant le mouvement, la tête de Bucky tourne instantanément sur sa gauche. Quand il te voit éveillée, il soupire de soulagement avant de se rapprocher de toi. De sa main gauche, il caresse doucement ta joue.

-Hey, comment tu te sens ? chuchote-t-il.

-Comme si je venais de me faire tirer dessus, dis-tu en essayant de sourire.

-Au moins, on est sûrs de pas l’avoir perdue, intervient Sam, faisant rouler des yeux Bucky.

-Tu as mal quelque part ? Tu veux que j’appelle une infirmière ? Je devrais appeler une infirmière pour la prévenir que t’es réveillée.

-Pas besoin. La perfusion fait encore effet.

-Ça serait plus sûr et peut-être qu’elles ont besoin de vérifier certaines choses comme tu es réveillée, insiste ton petit ami en appuyant sur le bouton pour appeler une infirmière.

-Pire qu’une mère poule.

-La ferme, Sam.

-Me faites pas rire, ordonnes-tu en sentant une douleur dans ton ventre alors que tu as à peine rigolé à cause de leur chamaillerie.

-Désolé, s’excuse Sam.

Bucky continue de te regarder comme s’il avait peur qu’en détachant ses yeux de ton visage, tu disparaisses. Tu le regardes avec tendresse, espérant le rassurer en lui confirmant qu’il ne t’a pas perdu. Pendant ce temps, Sam se sent un peu laissé de côté, mais il ne peut s’empêcher de regarder la scène affectueusement, sachant très bien tout ce que tu représentes pour Bucky.

En effet, depuis ta rencontre avec l’ancien Soldat de L’hiver, tu as toujours fait attention à ce qu’il ne manque de rien. Tu l’as aidé, et l’aides encore parfois, à s’adapter au monde actuel et tu es une des rares épaules sur laquelle il arrive à pleurer, sans honte. Vos sentiments l’un pour l’autre se sont développés doucement et votre relation a changé au même rythme. Votre lien est fort et indescriptible. Tout ce que vous savez c’est que vous ne pouvez pas vivre sans l’autre. Bucky ne peut surtout pas te perdre, pas seulement parce qu’il t’aime, mais aussi car tu es l’une des rares constantes de sa vie depuis qu’il a retrouvé la mémoire.

Quelqu’un frappant à la porte de ta chambre vous sort de votre bulle. Tu t’apprêtes à saluer une infirmière quand tu découvres John Walker, dans sa tenue de Captain America avec son casque en main. Tu fronces les sourcils, ne t’attendant pas à le voir.

-John, quel plaisir ! commence Bucky sarcastiquement. Tu es là pour rendre le Bouclier ?

-Buck ! le réprimandes-tu et il te fait un faux air innocent.

-Je voulais savoir comment vous alliez, Y/N, te demande John en évitant ton regard pendant une seconde.

-Ça peut aller, considérant que j’ai failli mourir.

-A propos de ça, je voulais m’excuser.

-De quoi vous parlez ? questionnes-tu, les sourcils froncés.

Même si tu n’as pas vu qui t’a tiré dessus, tu supposes que c’était un Flag Smasher, car ta blessure a permis à ton ennemi de s’échapper, enfin jusqu’à ce que Sam la rattrape, alors tu ne comprends pas les excuses de John.

-Je… J’essayais de viser la Flag Smasher, explique John en jouant avec son casque, mais quand vous étiez en train de vous battre, vous avez changé de place et je vous ai tiré dessus sans faire exprès.

En entendant la fin de la phrase John, Bucky voit rouge et lâche ta main avant d’essayer de se jeter sur John. Sam le retient de justesse, empêchant Bucky de briser la règle numéro deux de sa thérapeute. John recule jusqu’à la porte au cas où Sam n’arriverait plus à retenir Bucky. Ton petit ami se force à ne pas utiliser toute sa force contre Sam, il sait qu’il pourrait se défaire de son emprise facilement, mais il sait que ce n’est pas la chose à faire. Bucky a réussi à obtenir son pardon, il ne peut pas tout ruiner maintenant. Cependant, ça n’empêche pas que John a failli ruiner la relation la plus chère à ses yeux. Déjà que Bucky n’arrivait pas apprécier le nouveau Captain America, maintenant, il n’a qu’une envie : le défigurer ou retourner dans le passé et forcer Sam à garder ce maudit Bouclier ainsi, tu ne serais pas dans ce lit d’hôpital.

-C’était un accident, je le promets, assure John. Je suis vraiment désolé.

-Ils apprennent plus à viser à l’armée ou comment ça se passe ? crache Bucky alors que Sam resserre un peu plus son emprise. Enfin, si tu n’as pas le champ libre, tu tires pas, c’est de la logique ! A cause de toi, Y/N a failli y passer et on a presque pas arrêté la Flag Smasher. C’est pas possible d’avoir aussi peu de réflexion !

-Bucky, il a pas fait exprès, interviens-tu, espérant détendre l’atmosphère.

Même si tu détestes John autant que Bucky, tu ne veux pas que ton petit ami lui refasse le portrait. Tu ne peux pas avoir Bucky comme ennemi numéro un du gouvernement américain à nouveau.

-Je m’en fiche de ça, te rétorque Bucky. T’as failli mourir dans mes bras à cause de son incompétence, continue-t-il en pointant John du menton. Tu parles d’un Captain America ! Rien que pour ça, tu devrais rendre le Bouclier.

-C’était une erreur. Et puis, je viens tout juste d’être Captain America, j’ai encore beaucoup à apprendre, tente de se défendre John, énervant un peu plus Bucky.

-Ne pas tirer sur les innocents ne devrait pas en faire partie ! Ça, t’es censé l’avoir appris au début de ton entraînement à l’armée. C’était bien plus qu’une erreur. T’as intérêt à partir maintenant avant que je fasse de toi un résident permanent dans cet hôpital.

-Vous devriez partir, John, confirmes-tu, sachant très bien que la colère de Bucky ne va pas redescendre tout de suite. Merci de m’avoir dit la vérité.

-C’était le moins que je puisse faire. Encore désolé, Y/N.

Quand John quitte enfin la pièce, Sam relâche doucement Bucky, mais reste prêt à tenir de nouveau Bucky au cas où. Ton petit ami prend une profonde inspiration avant de poser son attention sur toi à nouveau. Même s’il a l’air plus calme, tu vois à ses yeux que la colère est toujours présente. Il se rassoit à tes côtés alors que Sam s’installe au bord de ton lit.

-Tout ça aurait pu être évité si tu n’avais pas donné le Bouclier, s’exclame Bucky, faisant rouler tes yeux et ceux de Sam.

-Encore avec ça.

-Comment tu peux ne pas être énervée contre lui alors qu’il t’a presque tué ? te questionne-t-il, perdu.

-Ecoute, tu sais très bien ce que je pense de lui comme Captain America et aujourd’hui nous prouve un peu plus que ça ne devrait pas être lui, mais le fait est qu’il ne m’a pas blessé intentionnellement.

-Intentionnellement ou pas, j’aurais pu te perdre.

-Et ce n’est pas le cas. Je suis toujours là, lui assures-tu en caressant sa joue.

Bucky est sur le point d’ajouter quelque chose quand l’infirmière qu’il a appelée entre dans ta chambre. Elle vérifie tes constantes, te pose quelques questions et t’informe que ton médecin passera plus tard avant de te laisser te reposer. Grâce à son intervention, Bucky laisse enfin le sujet “John” de côté, même s’il fulmine encore. Pour détendre l’atmosphère, Sam change de sujet en évoquant sa maison en Louisiane. Il parle des températures, de son bateau familial et des différentes activités que sa ville natale a à offrir jusqu’à ce que ton médecin l’interrompe. Elle t’explique qu’ils ont réussi à te sauver pile à temps et que tu auras une cicatrice sur ton ventre. Enfin, elle t’informe que tu vas devoir te ménager pendant un moment, t’interdisant formellement de retourner sur le terrain jusqu’à nouvel ordre. Tu ne peux t’empêcher de pousser un soupir de frustration à sa dernière information. La dernière chose dont tu avais besoin c’était de rester clouée au lit. Quand elle quitte ta chambre, Bucky essaye de te faire voir le bon côté des choses, sachant très bien que tu es agacée par ta situation actuelle. Cependant, peu importe ce qu’il dit, ça ne semble pas être suffisant pour faire disparaître la moue sur ton visage. Sam te propose alors de venir faire ta convalescence chez lui en Louisiane, loin de la ville. Tu pèses le pour et le contre avant d’accepter, non sans faire lever les yeux de Bucky au ciel.

Quand tu es enfin autorisée à partir de l’hôpital, tu découvres l'État où vit Sam. Ce dernier vous a laissé, à toi et Bucky, la chambre d’amis. Tu l’as remercié un nombre incalculable de fois pour sa gentillesse alors que Bucky lui a seulement lâché un petit sourire pour montrer sa gratitude.

Pendant ta convalescence, les deux hommes sont aux petits soins pour toi. Sam te fait découvrir les plats typiques de la région ou encore ses recettes de famille. Tu dois avouer que Sam est doué en cuisine, ce que tu n’aurais pas cru au premier abord. Sam t’apporte également des choses à faire pour t’occuper depuis le lit, comme des jeux de société ou des activités manuelles. Tu te considères maintenant pro dans la création de bracelets avec des perles en plastique. Tu en as fait pour Sam, sa sœur Sarah et ses fils AJ et Cass, mais également pour Bucky. À part AJ et Cass, Bucky est celui qui en a le plus avec des mots mignons ou ridicules allant de “mon amour” à “grincheux”. Certains de tes bracelets sont en parfait contraste avec son bras en Vibranium.

Bucky, quant à lui, est toujours à tes côtés et s’inquiète même quand tu affirmes que tu n’as pas de douleur. Il t’aide à nettoyer ta blessure, changer ton pansement et s’assure que tu es toujours dans une bonne position pour dormir. Enfin, le soir quand tu es dans les bras de Morphée, Bucky te colle - tout en faisant attention à ta blessure - en posant délicatement sa tête sur ta poitrine pour écouter les battements réguliers de ton cœur. En les entendant, Bucky arrive à respirer et à s’endormir paisiblement tout en se répétant que tu es encore en vie, tu es encore à ses côtés, il ne t’a pas perdu.

Après plusieurs semaines allongée, tu peux marcher une plus longue distance que celle de ta chambre à la salle de bain. Assise sur le lit, tu enfiles tes chaussures quand un Bucky avec des yeux grands ouverts vient vers toi.

-Je peux savoir ce que tu fais ? Tu dois te reposer, te rappelle-t-il, t’empêchant de finir de lacer ta chaussure gauche.

-Le docteur m’a dit que je devais marcher pour aider la guérison, expliques-tu en jouant avec les perles de son bracelet formant le mot “vieillard”.

-C’est quel genre de conseil idiot, ça ? Tu dois rester au lit.

-Bucky, si je reste une seconde de plus sur ce maudit lit, je vais le cramer, informes-tu avec un air sérieux. Et puis, je ne vais pas courir un marathon, je vais juste marcher très lentement aux alentours de la maison. Viens avec moi, si ça peut te rassurer.

-Et si tu te faisais mal en marchant ? s’enquiert-il et tu te retiens de lever les yeux au ciel.

-Alors heureusement que mon merveilleux et fort petit ami sera à mes côtés pour m’aider. Bucky, je vais bien, assures-tu en le regardant dans les yeux. Je n’ai pas mal et j’ai besoin de bouger. Je n’en peux plus de faire la plante verte dans cette maison. Je connais tous les recoins de cette chambre, j’ai besoin de sortir.

Bucky semble considérer la situation, pesant mentalement le pour et le contre avant de soupirer et de hocher la tête.

-Bon, d’accord, mais si tu ressens ne serait-ce qu’une petite douleur, tu as intérêt à me le dire et on rentre, ordonne-t-il en défaisant ton lacet gauche pour le refaire, et on ne marche pas plus de cinq minutes, finit-il.

-Quinze, négocies-tu.

-Dix.

-Vendu, acceptes-tu avec un regard enfantin.

Bucky termine de lacer ta basket droite avant de te donner sa main pour t’aider à te lever tout en examinant ton visage pour le moindre signe de douleur. Pour lui prouver que tout va bien, tu lui souris avant d’embrasser ses lèvres chastement. Il prend ton bras droit et le place sur le sien pour te soutenir alors que vous quittez doucement votre chambre provisoire. En sortant - enfin - de la maison, tu prends le temps d’apprécier la chaleur du soleil sur ton visage. Vous marchez alors que tu partages à Bucky toutes tes observations sur le paysage s’offrant à vous. Depuis ton arrivée, tu n’as pas eu le temps d’admirer la beauté extérieur de la maison de Sam donc, tu regardes chaque arbre, fleur et vague, profitant de la nature que tu n’as pas à Brooklyn.

Après quelques minutes de marche, tu demandes à Bucky de vous arrêter. Tout de suite, il te questionne, inquiet que tu risques de tomber dans les pommes à n’importe quel moment.

-Je vais bien, le rassures-tu, mais son expression inquiète ne quitte pas son visage.

-Désolé d’être autant sur ton dos, mais je veux juste m’assurer que tu ailles bien.

-Je sais.

-Tu penses que je suis lourd ? questionne-t-il en touchant le bracelet avec l’inscription “mon ange”.

-Non, je trouve ça mignon la façon dont tu t'inquiètes, dis-tu en relevant son visage de ta main. Tu es une vraie mère poule et j’adore ça, ajoutes-tu, le faisant légèrement rire.

-Est-ce qu’on peut réellement m’en vouloir, j’ai bien cru que j’allais te perdre, dit-il en se remémorant le moment où il t’a rejoint pendant que tu te vidais de ton sang. Quand tu as commencé à fermer les yeux, j’étais persuadé que c’était fini. Et je ne peux pas te perdre, affirme Bucky d’une voix tremblante. Je sais que je ne te le dis pas souvent, mais ma thérapeute me dit que je dois apprendre à mieux communiquer ce que je ressens alors, je te le dis : Tu es importante pour moi, j’ai besoin de toi pour continuer à avancer. Ça peut paraître égoïste, mais je ne peux pas me permettre de te perdre et si ça devait arriver… je ne sais pas ce que je deviendrais, continue-t-il avec les larmes aux yeux. J’ai besoin de toi auprès de moi. Je t’aime tellement.

En voyant une larme couler sur sa joue, tu le prends dans tes bras et caresses son dos. Il cache son visage dans le creux de ta nuque et inspire ton odeur. Une partie de Bucky se sent mal d’être celui qui reçoit le réconfort alors que tu es celle qui a été blessée, mais il en a besoin. Te perdre est sa plus grande peur et depuis que John t’a tiré dessus, il a pris conscience que se peur pouvait se réaliser en une seconde. Tu continues à le serrer contre toi, lui prouvant que ça ne te dérange pas de le réconforter, car tu le comprends.

-Je t’aime aussi, Bucky, murmures-tu dans son oreille. Tellement.

Vous restez enlacés pendant quelques minutes jusqu’à ce que votre anxiété s’évanouisse. Quand vous vous séparez, une de tes mains se pose sur la joue de Bucky alors que la deuxième caresse le bracelet avec les perles “pour toujours” avant de prendre sa main gauche.

-Je ne peux pas te promettre que je serai toujours en sécurité à cause de notre métier, mais je peux te promettre une chose : je ferai toujours tout ce que je peux pour rester à tes côtés et je veux que tu me promettes la même chose car j’ai besoin de toi autant que tu as besoin de moi.

-Promis.

Comme pour sceller votre promesse, vous vous embrassez délicatement avec le soleil se couchant comme témoin. Bucky ne pose pas ses mains sur tes hanches, craignant de te faire mal involontairement donc ses mains trouvent leur chemin sur tes joues alors que les tiennent se perdent dans ses cheveux.

Marvel Mastelist

{Ceci est mon blog secondaire donc je répondrai aux commentaires sous le pseudo @marie-sworld}

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foreverstillofficial · 6 years

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@moonchildveggie is slaying with her FS merch! 💁‍♀️ #Repost ・・・ Saturday slay day! All my love goes out to @foreverstillofficial 🦋 #love #band #bandoftheday #checkthemout #rock #femalerock #foreverstill #bestband #fun #tieddown #tshirtonfleek #majashining #mikkelhaastrup #rocknrollforever

#band #fun #checkthemout #love #rocknrollforever #tieddown #repost #foreverstill #mikkelhaastrup #tshirtonfleek #majashining #bandoftheday #femalerock #bestband #rock

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seidenbros · 2 years

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Hellooo :))) I hope I can send in a kinda smutty imagine with Geralt, where you're on the Road with him and he slowly fell in love with you but doesnt want to admit it. So when you're both staying at Kaer Morhen he trains you how to fight (cause you’re pretty clumsy), which leads on top of him after a failed move on your side. He cant resist you anymore and starts kissing you and carries you to his room where you end up in love making and later cuddling ? :) Thank you dear!

Hellooo! :) Thank you for this request and of course you can request this! I'm just always a little self-conscious when it comes to postig smut, because I'm never sure of it's any good, but hey, as long as I have fun writing it, right? And sorry that it took so long to write, it was just rather stressfull the last couple of days, even weeks, but writing gave me a way to escape all that at least a little bit

(I’m always happy to receive requests, so if you want to, send some in. If you need inspiration, here are some prompt lists )

Warnings: smut 18+, minors DNI Word count: 4101

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Bottled-Up Feelings

It was your second year travelling with Geralt, and the first year, he'd left you in your hometown for the winter, but had picked you up once he'd come back in the springtime. This year, though, he was taking you with him to Kaer Morgen, to train you – that was his reasoning at least. It was the perfect place to improve your skills, because you had the time and the equipment. Not that he would put you through the things he'd gone through, since you were human after all, but it would be easier to do it there, instead of on the road. Sure, he'd shown you a thing or two, had taught you how to wield a sword, how to protect yourself, but there was still a lot you could learn – and he'd feel better if you did, because he wasn't always there to protect you. He tried, and he wanted to be there, but there would always be moments, where you weren't in his line of vision. One more reason why he took you to the keep with him, so that he wouldn't have to worry about you all the time.

Last winter had been hard on him, though he hadn't liked to admit it even to himself, but his brothers had pointed out multiple times how much he was talking about you, how his face lit up when he mentioned you name. Geralt had avoided them as much as he could after that conversation, but in the end, he'd had to admit that they were right. But he'd never made advances towards you, swore himself that he never would, because you deserved better than him, better than a Witcher.

What he didn't know, though, was that you were feeling the same way. Not at first, but by now, you'd developed feelings for Geralt as well. Later than he had done, but nobody knew about it, since you kept these matters close to your heart. You'd only realised it a couple of weeks ago. Geralt had been a friend to you, a protector, someone you knew you could trust. He'd gotten you out of precarious situations multiple times, and he'd do it again. Of course, he'd lectured you about it afterwards, but he'd quickly gone from angry to concerned, as soon as you'd apologized.

You'd gotten yourself in trouble more times than you'd like to admit, but you were trying not to put your foot in your mouth that often. That was your biggest problem: That big mouth of yours. You often spoke before you thought about your words, and your clumsiness made it even worse. But all these things were the little things that Geralt loved. Sure, he would sleep better if he knew that you weren't getting yourself in trouble that much, but he would be alright – as long as you were sleeping close to him and he knew that nothing would happen to you.

He took you to Kaer Morhen earlier than he usually went back home, so that you could get acquainted with the place, get to know Vesemir before you met the other Witchers. Geralt knew that it wouldn't be an easy meeting, especially since Lambert was always a little... well, not so welcoming to strangers, so it was probably good, if you knew your way around the keep and already had Vesemir on your side.

And you did! Vesemir had already heard about you, so he was curious to get to know you.

“Geralt didn't shut up about you the last time, he was home,” Vesemir had said upon meeting you, making you smile immediately. You could have sworn Geralt's cheek had turned pink, but you knew that Witchers didn't blush. At least, that was what he claimed, but you'd already seen it happen.

Geralt had shown you around, had brought you to you room, which was right around the corner from his room. By now, it was getting colder, but no snow had fallen so far. It was still warm enough outside when the sun was out, but the nights were beginning to get cold, so Geralt had made you a fire in the fireplace for the night. Of course, you hadn't slept the first night. On the road, you didn't have trouble falling asleep, knowing that Geralt was right there, and even though he was just in another room here... it was not the same. You needed a couple of hours, but then you'd fallen asleep – finally.

The next morning, Geralt knocked on the door to your room, but you were already awake, not really well-rested, but ready to start the day.

“Did you sleep alright?” Geralt asked, leading you down to the kitchen so that you two could get some breakfast.

“Not much, but it was okay,” you answered with a smile. You'd get used to it eventually, it was just that everything was new.

“Nobody really sleeps the first night, they're here. But after our training, you can get lots of rest. But first, we need some breakfast.” You needed it. Geralt could go without it, but he'd make sure that you would eat something before he showed you to surroundings and started the training he wanted to complete with you today.

Once you finished breakfast, Geralt waved goodbye to Vesemir who wanted to get some supplies, and lead you outside. When you'd arrived, it had already been dark, so now, you could see the view that stretched out before you. It was absolutely beautiful, and you already knew that you would spend some of the days out here, just enjoying the view. But not now, not today. Geralt showed you around, told you about the things he'd experienced here, though he didn't tell you everything – and you knew why. He didn't want you to hear about the horrible things. Things he'd told you late at night, when you'd both not been able to sleep, and he'd let you in on what had been going on inside his mind, what thoughts had kept him awake. It was better to focus on the positive experiences, so he told you about these. How, when they'd still been children, he'd run around with Eskel here, trying to determine who was faster.

“Ready?” Geralt asked once you'd finished your rounds and he'd taken you to the training ground. You wouldn't make do with anything that was here at the moment, but just practice dodging some hits and swings.

“As ready as I can be,” you said with an uncertain smile. Of course you knew that Geralt wouldn't hurt you, that he'd stop before he actually hit you, but you wanted to show him that you'd improved, that you were getting better, and that made you nervous.

“We're taking it slow, alright?” Geralt smiled, because he could feel how nervous you were, could hear your increased heartbeat. He knew that you'd try your best, but it was okay to make mistakes, because you could learn from them.

You were off to a good starts. Geralt explained what he would do and how you had to react, how you could counter his attack, and you succeeded. Maybe, you were a little too happy with your success, because your next move made you knock Geralt over, and you followed suit. The only difference was that Geralt's back hit the hard ground, while your fall was cushioned by his body. You landed right on top of him, your body flush against his, your eyes still closed from anticipating the impact. Slowly, you opened your eyes, but when you looked right into Geralt's eyes, your cheeks flushed pink due to a mixture of embarrassment because you'd knocked both of you down, and being so close to him – on top of him.

“I'm so, so sorry, Geralt, I think I tripped or got my foot tangled,” you tried to explain, playing back what had just happened, but you couldn't say for sure what had happened. “Are you okay?” Deep down, you knew that Geralt couldn't really be hurt, maybe a little discomforted, but a part of you still worried, so you had to make sure.

“More than okay,” Geralt mumbled, his eyes fixed on you. Beneath your hand on his chest, you could feel his heart beat faster, something you'd never experienced before. You'd fallen asleep with your head on his chest after a particularly exhausting day like this, and when you'd woken up still in his arms, you'd realised what you were feeling for him, had admitted these feelings to yourself.

He should get up with you, put some distance between the two of you, return to teaching you... something. But he couldn't even think straight right now. Your scent filled his nose and clouded his mind. His eyes dropped to your lips, but what made him lose control were your fingertips that dug into his chest. He raised his right hand to brush some loose strands from your face, before he ran his fingers along your cheek to the back of your neck, carefully pulling you closer so that he could seal your lips with his. It was not what he had planned to do at all, because he'd actually wanted to keep his feelings, his desires to himself, but apparently he'd turned his head off.

He caught you off guard with this, but that surprise quickly vanished, and was instead replaced by the soft feeling of his lips against yours, by the warmth that spread through your chest and settled in the pit of your stomach. Was this some kind of dream? The grip that tightened on you arm told you that it wasn't, that this was indeed happening.

It was you who deepened the kiss, who suddenly wanted more, because now that you'd started this, you didn't want it to end, wanted more of him, more of this. Geralt groaned deep in his throat, his fingers tangling in your hair. He'd been thinking about this, dreaming about it for so long, he could hardly believe that it was really happening, especially because he'd never wanted to take that step, but right now, he wouldn't think about it any more.

You wanted him, you wanted more than this. Once you'd ripped your lips from his, you sat up slowly, ground your hips against him. His moan sent another shiver down your spine, which settled right between your legs. You could see the fire in his eyes, something you'd seen before, but which had never been directed at you.

Geralt grabbed hold of your hips and rolled over with you, but instead of kissing you again, which your lips were already aching for, he got up and left you without the warmth of his body. For a moment, you thought he'd simply walk away, that he might be angry with you for something, but then he leaned forward to take your hands and help you up.

“Not the right place,” he said, holding your hand in his, before he turned around to walk swiftly back with you to the keep, to get inside, where it was warmer. You were only able to take two steps, when you felt the pain in your ankle that gave in beneath you.

“What's wrong?”

“I think I hurt my ankle.”

You looked down, but due to the boots you were wearing, you couldn't see anything. Geralt didn't want to waste time as it seemed – and to be fair, neither did you – and gathered you in his arms so that he could carry you inside. As soon as you opened your mouth to protest, because you could still walk, he kissed you to shut you up. Needless to say, that worked wonders, because that kiss settled right in your chest. You knew that you wouldn't be able to win such an argument with him anyway, so instead, you enjoyed being this close to him, being taken care of.

Geralt carried you all the way to his room and set you down on his bed. Before he did anything else, he lit the fire to make the room nice and cosy – more for you, because he knew how quickly you got cold. Right now, you were anything but cold. Your body felt like it was on fire, but you needed more of what you'd already shared with him.

Without a word, Geralt carefully took off your boots to inspect your foot. Gentle fingers touched your skin, when he pushed your pants a little bit up to get a better look at your injury.

“I think some rest will do. No training tomorrow, and for the rest of today: bedrest.”

“But not without you,” you said immediately, reaching for his hand. His lips twitched up into a smile, before he joined you on the bed.

“Did you really think, I'd leave you alone here now?”

“Well... I was hoping you wouldn't, so that we could pick up where we left off.”

That was everything Geralt needed to hear, because in a matter of seconds, his lips were on yours again. Still sweet and soft, but also more demanding, which made you sigh into the kiss. You ran your fingers through his hair, scraped his neck with your fingernails, before you grabbed hold of his shoulder with one hand, when you felt his hand on your breast. A gentle squeeze before he rubbed his thumb over your nipple that was already erect beneath the fabric.

Geralt scraped his teeth over your bottom lip, started kissing down the side of your neck, taking his time while doing so. He only stopped to take off your clothes and throw them aside, but then he connected his lips with your soft skin again. He ran his fingertips along your side, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touched, while he pressed open-mouthed kisses further down until he reached your breast. He looked up to you for a moment, but then he pulled your nipple between his lips, sucked hard on it, which elicited another moan from your lips.

“Fuck... Geralt,” you breathed, digging your nails into his shoulder again for a moment, but you quickly let go again, ran your hand along his arm, feeling all the scars that adorned his body. They were a part of him, told their own stories. Some people might look away from them, might think them ugly, but for you, they were just a part of the man you loved. His scars didn't change the way you saw him one bit.

Geralt sat up once more to rid you of your pants as well, to have you naked right in front of him. Feeling his eyes all over your body, you felt the urge to cover yourself, a moment of insecurity, but Geralt smiled down at you, taking all that uncertainty and insecurity away.

“You're absolutely marvellous,” he said shaking his head, as if he couldn't believe it himself. No man had ever made you feel so safe, so cherished as Geralt managed to do.

You sat up just so far that you could put your hand to his cheek and guide him back down to you, so that you could kiss his lips. Geralt rocked his hips against you, making you feel just what you were doing to him, making you suck in a breath from the friction he was creating.

“Off!” you demanded, bunching up his tunic, trying to get it off him, but you weren't able to do that alone. Geralt had to do his part as well, but instead, he grabbed the tunic himself and pulled it over his head.

“Much better.”

Your words made him chuckle, but that chuckle died down when he felt your hand on the bulge in his pants, when you palmed his cock. Geralt started kissing your body again, your collarbone down to your sternum, before he paid special attention to your nipples again. At the same time, he ran his hand up your thigh, getting closer to where you wanted and needed to feel him the most, but before he reached that spot, he stroked back down towards your knee, knowing how much he was teasing you with that. To get a little revenge, you tightened your grip on his cock, making him groan deep in his chest again.

That was the moment that Geralt chose to give you what you wanted and needed, when he slid his fingers between your already wet folds, catching you by surprise. Without a warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, making you moan his name. Your fingers wrapped around his forearm for a second, but then you ran them up his arm to his chest again.

He moved his fingers agonizingly slow inside you so that you moved your hips against him, wanting more of what he was giving you. Geralt wasn't having it, so he put his arm over your hips, pinning you in place.

“That's not fair,” you whispered breathlessly, trying to pout, but the next moan broke from your lips, shattering that look on your face immediately.

“I don't always play fair, you know that.”

Which... was an exaggeration, you knew that, but right now was not the moment to discuss or argue about that. Especially not when he lapped his tongue against your clit. You were already sensitive, knew that it wouldn't take you long to reach your climax. Geralt kept going, flicking his tongue against your clit again and again, watching your every reaction, especially when he curved his fingers upward and hit the right spot. With that, he made you come undone, made your body go tense beneath him, your inner walls contract around his fingers. Your moans were music to his ears, and he enjoyed every second of it, kept going while you were riding your high.

Only when you went limp, breathing heavily, did he pull back and sit up to watch you for a moment. Your head was still spinning, but you felt him move. When you opened your eyes, you could see him taking off the rest of his clothes, before he joined you again. You reached out your hand to place it on his chest, a content smile on your lips.

“You need a break?” he asked with a smile, leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. You seized that moment to put your hand on his cheek and kiss him once again. You also wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him closer to you. When you felt his cock against your folds, you shivered slightly.

“All I need is you,” you whispered then kissed him again. Geralt used his hand to guide his cock to your entrance, dragged it through your fold a couple of times before he slowly pushed inside you. Too slow for your liking, because you wanted to feel him fill you up, but once he was buried completely, you felt like you were able to breathe again. Geralt gave you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. It was a sweet kind of pain, that eased once he started to move, once it was replaced by the sheer pleasure that consumed your body.

“You're so beautiful,” Geralt whispered against your lips, slow thrusts meeting the movement of your hips, driving you nearly insane. He gently cupped your face when he kissed you again, dragged his lips over your cheek to the side of you neck down to your shoulder.

“Geralt... you won't break me. I'm not that fragile,” you said with a smile, your fingernails running up and down his back next to his spine. It was probably exactly what he'd needed to hear, because he finally picked up his pace. His teeth scraped against your shoulder, before he straightened up. He only pulled out so that he could sit up in his knees. Grabbing you by the hips, he pulled you closer, buried himself inside you again with a long, hard thrust that left you breathless for a moment, before you moaned his name again.

He'd switched the angle like this, hitting just the right spot with his thrusts now, that weren't as gentle and slow as they had been in the beginning, and you loved everything about this. If he kept going like this, it wouldn't take you long to come once more. As if he knew it, he ripped one hand from your hip and started rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Oh fuck... Geralt... fuck.” You only managed incoherent words, not really what you wanted to tell him. Geralt kept going, increased his tempo even a bit more, which pushed you over the edge, made you come again, nearly screaming his name this time, as he fucked you through your orgasm to stretch it out.

Seeing the pleasure on your face, hearing his name from your lips, made Geralt nearly combust. It was a sight he wanted to see more often and he hoped that he would.

The movements of his hips became more erratic, his grip tightened around your hip, when he felt his own orgasm overcome him. He spilled inside you with a few more thrusts, before he practically collapsed on top of you. Just for a moment, his full body weight was on you, but you didn't mind. In fact, it felt good, but Geralt was afraid that he would crush you, so he propped himself up on his forearms.

You opened your eyes to look at him, to push the sweaty hair from his face and kiss his lips. Your lips lingered on his for a moment, before Geralt slowly pulled back again.

“I'll be back in just a second,” he said before he got up and vanished, leaving you worried, but when he returned with a cloth and cleaned you up, you felt nothing but love for this man. He was so gentle and caring, which you'd never experienced with anybody else.

Once he was finished, Geralt lay back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. No, he definitely didn't want to leave right now, instead he'd rather spend his time cuddling here with you – and figuring out what exactly had just happened and where that would lead.

“Y/N...” he said quietly, running his fingertips up and down your spine, holding you close to him. “I never expected this to happen and honestly... I never intended for it either.”

His words made your whole body stiffen. Was he going to tell you that you had to leave now? That it could never happen again?

“But I am glad that it did.”

Okay, that at least made you a little calmer, but you were still worried about what he wanted to tell you with that.

“I just...” Geralt sighed, trying to find the right words. “I've been in love with you for more than a year, but I just never wanted to make you feel like you had to stay with me. You deserve someone better, Y/N. Someone who can give you the life you deserve, who can give you a family.”

“Okay, stop that right now.” You sat up so that you could look at him. Concern was showing all over his face. “Geralt... Why do you think I came along with you? Why I stayed with you? Do you think I want a life in a small town? I could have had that, but instead I started travelling with you.”

You put your hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“You are everything I need in this life. You are the one who makes me happy, never doubt that, okay?”

Geralt was stunned by your words, but he still managed to smile. He covered your hand with his, gave it a little squeeze, before he raised your hand to press a kiss to your palm.

“Okay.”

You knew that it would take some time to really convince him that you meant what you'd just said, that you didn't want any other man, another life, but you would gladly tell him every day if it meant that you could be happy together.

With a smile on you lips, you settled back into his arms, leaned your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. This right here, this was what you wanted and needed in life. The man you loved.

#geralt fic #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x reader smut #the witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher x reader #geralt #geralt x you #the witcher smut #staffi writes #I'll propably always be nervous to post smut #the witcher imagine #I'm shit at tagging and adding TW #so let me know if anything's missing #tieddown-withbattleshipchains

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