3) i gave up after a while; enjoy!

Preacher Fic: Waiting You Out

Summary: Based off a prompt from the amazing anon who gave me this: 

“Jesse kisses Cassidy and tastes blood on his mouth, he gets concerned and from time to time keeps asking Cass if he’s okay or he’s sick or dYING. Cass finds it funny at first but it gets annoying after a while and he finally says that he’s a vampire, taking some bottle of blood from his coat of whatever.”

Things got changed up a bit, but I hope you still enjoy! 

Fandom: Preacher (TV series)

Words: 3,367

Warnings: Language, blood, murder

Pairings: Jesse/Cass

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3

Waiting You Out

If Cass had learned one thing about Jesse Custer, it was that he was about as observant as a pile of bricks. Bricks for Dummies. ‘Sorry, little Johnny Brick can’t come back to Pre-K, he keeps eating the glue and shitting his pants’ kind of brick. Cass was damn near losing his mind. Bad enough that Jesse wouldn’t notice Emily’s crush if it sauntered up and squeezed his ass cheeks (and as a vamp who hadn’t been laid in months Cass took that as a personal offense), but what was worse was that Jesse missed the toxic stuff as well, stuff that was a downright danger to his heath. Girls—bless them—were a danger all their own, though not the kind that Cass was concerned with right now.

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Fire (Preview) - Let’s Get Our Man - // Bucky x Reader \\

A/N: I’m bringin’ Fire back! I hope you all enjoy this little kind of preview of what happened to lead them to present day which is were the story will pick up in the next part if you guys enjoy this! 

     I have the first three parts here: 1 - 2 - 3 

                                             Flashback: 2012

        Captain America has just emerged from the ice to find that his position had been temporarily filled while he took his seventy year snooze.


“I was the Captain, after you left.” I said, looking down at the ground as I unwrapped my hands. Steve, doing the opposite gave me a quick look; smirking. “Good.”

I cocked my head to the side, staring at him bewildered. How was any of that good information? “If anyone deserves a title like that, it’s you Fee.” I smiled down at the ground, blushing from his compliment. I half chuckled, picking myself up off of the edging of the boxing ring, heading over to my gym bag.

“I’m not even from America, Steve. But thank you.” Steve agreed, but still knew that no one in the world deserved the title more than you. 

The title that he took back as soon as he was unfrozen. Leaving you with no name for the world to call you. They only knew you as Captain America. But know that the original was here: a new name was in order. 

“Sorry I kind of left you nameless, when they…”

        “Defrosted you like a chicken?” You both laughed, suddenly feeling the diffusion of the uncomfortable feelings that arose the moment you saw him walk in. Hoisting a bag on his shoulder like it was just a sack of shirts. Not a 200 lb boxing bag.

“Yeah… well even so, I’m sorry that you didn’t get a say in keeping the name. You deserve it though-” Shaking your head and holding your bag over your shoulder. You walked over to Steve, smiling up at the tall, muscled man: trying to figure his way through the new world.

“You are the Captain, Rogers. I was just the fill in. I kept America sane while you slept. Then when I… slept. The world had the Starks. Now they have all three of us and more. If you are willing-” I put in his hand a file; thick with information he’d need… only if he accepted. 

“We’d love for you to join us. I’ve been fighting with Tony over a name- but I’m determined that this one will stick.” With a poke at the word written in cursive on the top of the folder, I left Rogers to look it over. There was information on contacting me in the paperwork inside. I estimated I’d be expecting a call before dinnertime. I got one sooner than that,

“Avengers?” He said, looking up from the folder you had handed over. Nodding your head, you kept walking out the door with your 200 lb punching bag, thrusted over your shoulder. 

“With you on my side, hopefully the name will stick.”

- 2 years later: Bucharest, Romania

Finding Bucky in his apartment, trying to get him out of there without him fighting you and Steve. Hoping he remembered the very few moments you shared on base camp. But knowing he’d most likely think of you as the strange woman on the news.

“Buck. You know me,” Throwing the brick with full force at Steve, I slid across the wooden floor blocking the brick from hitting Steve by breaking it with my hips that were covered in my signature metal armour.

Bucky looked shocked when the brick crumbled beneath my figure. My stance powerful and dominating as I waited for him to make another move. I knew those were the top two things Bucky did not respond well to: Power and Intimidating Actions. It was even written in my file I’d received for this mission Steve and I concocted on our own, with a little help from Sam.

          I had to get him out of here though, and he was not having any of it. He ran forward towards me and tried to wrap his hands around my throat. With one swing of my arm, my shield hit him just right, knocking him to the ground so Steve and I could get him to safety before the doors and windows of this tiny apartment bursted with police. 

Violence wasn’t the best thing for calming one down; but getting Bucky to surrender and back off was our only hope in getting him anywhere near the quinjet.

He was on the ground, as Steve tried to drag him out of the room. I gathered all of Bucky’s stuff that I could fit into the rucksack that I’d brought with me. There were journals and newspaper clippings littering the floor of his tiny little shack of an apartment. I decided on only taking the journals, though. Leaving behind the news of the past decade it seemed.

Bucky needed his thoughts, his memories. Not articles of “Steve Rogers comes out of the ice”, or “Governor so and so has gone missing, leading to suspiscions of the Winter Soldier in action again.” 

        He needed whatever he’d written down in these journals. Because his words were his own, they weren’t anyone else’s thoughts but his. I went to grab the last one on top of his bookcase and saw it was open. I didn’t want to invade Bucky’s new privledge of privacy, but I caught sight of a clippling in his recently opened journal. It wasn’t a newspaper clipping of a disasterous event, it was a woman, wearing bronzed armory, and carrying a shield. 

It was me.

                                           ~  People to Recognize  ~

 Fea Femeta…Fiammetta.

I remember her, not that name. The face is the same but how? How can they both still be alive? 

         Why can I only remember her in a hospital bed. A bed… in the middle of a forest. I remember not wanting to leave her. Maybe I shouldn’t of. I don’t want to hurt her, but I know she’ll be coming for me when she knows I’m alive. I don’t want to fight her, I wish she’d know the hate I hold inside for myself, killing all those people. I destroyed lives like the Nazi’s destroyed her family’s lives. I read that fact in a book I found at this store called, “Barnes & Noble”. I was afraid it was named after me. And it was some weird; killing machinery factory. When in fact; it just held knowledge. Lots and lots of history and fictional writing. I stole the book that caught my eye the moment I read the gold writing embroided on the cover: “America’s Captains”. The front cover was both of them. I almost fled the store looking through the book and seeing my face. My old, face… it makes me sick thinking about the fact that I wasn’t like this once. That I was normal. I don’t know why…but when I flipped to a page and saw her face, her laughing and smile… I remembered her in that hospital bed, in the forest and I remembered her in my arms; so close to death. Her not me.

 I’m afraid I caused her to almost die, that I’m the reason she’s still alive. That I was the one who injected her with the serum that they gave me. I’m afraid I hurt her in the past, and I desperately want to go and see her in America. But I can’t look her in the eye, knowing in my gut I was the one who tortured her.”

The page ended in that final sentence and I couldn’t help but feel a stinging in my eyes. He remembered… after all this time. He remembered my face, my body in his arms… just not in the way he thought. 

      Oh bucky… if you only knew you had it backwards. You were the one who saved me. Who kept me alive and kept me going when I was fighting with my Howling Commandos at my side. Your face was the first thing I prayed to dream of at night, and the last thing I pictured in my mind before I went to sleep.

These journals held the real Bucky. The one struggling to remember his life. The one who was about to realize he wasn’t alone in this world. 

Bucky had the two people who cared the most at his side now, and we were going to fight for our man. No matter the cost, we were getting James back.

Let me know what you thought! Message me or send in an ask if you’d like to be tagged in my stories or for just one certain person/character :) 

Love you all, thank you for reading Fire! I’m excited for this one to begin! 

P.S. I have a new chapter of A Beautiful Diaster coming out in the next day or so! 

- R

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Don We Now Our Gay Apparel (4/4)


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Last installment of the winter fic and also my first ever completed multi chap lel.

Enjoy ^^ Also thanks @skiretehfox and @birbyonce for lending out your Muse Babies ^^

NozoEli, 2k-ish words

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