and then this guy overtakes you

Positive Vibes (ALiL Deleted Scene)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you do something for Bucky that brightens his bad day. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,923

A/N: An anon requested “reader does something spontaneous and romantic for Bucky that she doesn’t even think of as romantic! And he is just floored by her thoughtfulness.“ This takes place between “The Little Things (Part Two)” and “The Get Together”. Here’s a track list for the CD mentioned in this part. 

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist

@avengerstories - thank you for existing and being my very best friend/editor

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

You’re stuck in the middle of a heated debate between Bruce and Helen Cho about gamma radiation when Steve walks by. He scans the dining hall, letting his gaze fall from one table to the next, before balancing his tray in one hand so he can rub his forehead. As he does, he discreetly scans the room for a second time, reminding you of a lost child desperately seeking out his mother.

"Steve!” You call out, making sure your voice is loud enough to be heard over all the chatter. He turns around immediately, a relieved grin overtaking his features as he walks towards you.  

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2,500 Followers Drabble

Prompt: “Oh relax…it will probably grow back.”

Characters: daddy!Jensen, daughter Madison, son Max

Requested: @jotink78

“Home sweet home.” Jensen grumbles carelessly, roughly ripping off his jacket as he finally walks through the front door. Having just finished his second complicated surgery of the day, he’s ready to fucking crash for a week.

Jensen barely reacts to the sound of distant yelling echoing through the house, his overworked brain assuming it’s just a TV show. But the voices become strangely familiar as he trudges towards the staircase.

The shriek of his fifteen year old daughter breaks Jensen out of his exhausted state, making him hightail it up the stairs. Ignoring all of the awful scenarios invading his mind, he bursts through the door of her bedroom.

“Madison! What’s wrong?!” The scene Jensen sees makes him do a double take. His son and daughter appear to be unharmed, for some reason she’s soaking wet but that’s seems to be it.

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Fault - 2

(Part 1)


“Bucky had never been held responsible for what he’d done, but you, oh god, everything that had happened had been your fault, and Bucky knew it too.”

Word Count: 1251
Warnings: Injury, angst

There are bright lights when you come to, blinding. That’s the first thing you notice.

The second is the pain, hitting you like a brick to the chest then spreading agonizingly quickly, like fire, to every inch of your body.

The third is that you’re moving. Fast.

“Stop–” You cough, hacking up your lungs as blood coats your lips. Bucky throws you a worried glance through the rear-view mirror, and then you’re moving faster.

Stop the car!” The words are just out of your mouth before your body convulses in on itself, sending you into another coughing fit, eyes daring to shut again because of the pain. The car jerks swiftly to the right, then jolts to a stop. In the backseat, you gasp for air.

The door above your head opens and cold air rushes in, stinging your face. It’s wet outside, but the sky is clearing up and there’s a couple stars shining, and you’re trying to focus on them in hopes that it’ll distract you from the pain. Then Bucky’s face appears in your line of sight, eyebrows pulled together, and his mouth is moving, saying the same thing over and over until you can finally make out his words. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

And truth be told? You’ve been wondering the exact same thing. There’s panic ebbing its way into your veins, coiling in your stomach and threatening to slip past your lips in cries for help, but you can only just manage to whisper between coughs.

You want to say something, but suddenly there’s a hand on your arm and every single nerve in your body tenses and there are alarms – sirens – going off in your head, the word danger flashing in an angry red in your mind. “Stop! Stop! Don’t touch me!”

The hand is gone as fast as it came, and Bucky’s alarmed face is in front of you again, eyes wide. He takes you in for a moment, barely concealed panic behind his blue eyes, before his expression falls into a neutral. “Look Y/N. Everything that happened back at the tower? We can deal with it later, okay? Just let me get you help first.”

You want to scream. Nothing makes sense. Nothing around you makes any sense at all, and the word ‘help’ is so foreign it sounds more like a threat than a promise of safety.

Your actions are slowed down by the wounds all over your body, and with your mind equally as hazy, you don’t get time to respond before the door slams shut. You flinch.

The front door opens and Bucky sits down and then he’s driving again, and you’re in and out of consciousness, trying to figure out a way to get out of the car but knowing that in your state, there’s no way you could manage.

“I have to–” you breathe sharply as the car swerves to the left. “Tell you something. Bucky, listen–”

There’s another sharp turn to the right this time. Your body lurches forward and the seat belt suddenly feels like a knife to the stomach, cutting into the exposed, bloody skin. It hurts, god, it hurts so much that you can barely focus on anything around you. Tears cloud your vision, and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

They know, Bucky. They know and they’re going to come back.

The words never slip past your lips.

“Look, I just–”

“You better get out of here before I blast your punk ass out.”

This is the second time you wake up to bright lights, and it takes a few blinks to clear your vision. This time, there’s no pain. Instead, it feels like you’re floating on a cloud, and everything around you is a different, calm kind of hazy. It feels kind of nice for once, until–


The arguing around you comes to a stop, and the constant hum of machines fills the room. Tony, casually leaning against the wall with a bag of dried blueberries in his hand, pushes off when he sees you awake. He throws a glance at the other man in the room , sporting a black and purple bruise around his left eye, and your breath hitches in your throat as you’re hit with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There’s a thump in your chest, reflected by the quickened pace of the heartbeat monitor, and you shift backwards on the

The man looks at you, opens his mouth to say something, then stops at a cutting look from Tony. He closes his mouth, throws you one last glance, then shuffles out the door.

“How you feelin’, kid?” Tony asks as he walks to the side of your bed.

“Like shit.”

He laughs, and you can tell that he wants to say more, that there’s words caught on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back with a lopsided grin and settles for a hair-ruffle instead. You’re too tired to swat him away.

The door swings open, and this time a nurse and doctor walk in. Routine procedure, now that you’re awake, they tell you. A couple broken ribs, a concussion, broken leg, four stitches across the forehead, twelve staples near the abdomen, and the list goes on. Then come the questions, which gain a few weird looks from Tony and a ton of scribbles from the nurse.

“You’ve been in a medically induced coma for the past week to aid in reducing the swelling of your brain,” the doctor says. You stare at him and he continues, “But you are showing symptoms of post-traumatic amnesia. It’s transient, so don’t stress about it. You received a lot of head trauma, so it’s expected. Your memories should return shortly; don’t try to force them back by thinking too hard, that’ll only hurt your head.”

You nod, trying to process the information. There’s this feeling that you can’t shake off, that you know something important that you have to tell someone, but you can’t figure it out and now you know why.

“We need to complete a few more tests, so you’ll be in here for the next couple days, but once that’s done, you’re free to go.” You nod again, and the doctor fixes some equipment around the room before leaving with the nurse trailing behind him.

Tony plops down in the plastic chair beside your bed. “Amnesia, huh?” You sigh in response.

“Okay, so, I was totally cool about the situation, but Capsicle? Think New York City, twenty-ten, fresh-out-of-the-ice. Guy was the most scared I’d ever seen.” A chuckle escapes your lips, followed by a groan of pain, and Tony only smiles.

“Get some rest, kid,” he says as he gets up to leave. “I’m gonna grab something to eat.”

And he’s almost at the door when the question that’s been bugging you can’t stay in your head any longer.

“Tee,” you croak, voice raspy and mouth parched. He pauses and turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in question. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”

Tony stiffens for a moment, eyes hardening and not meeting your gaze. Then he smiles, “No one you need to worry about right now, Y/N. Get some sleep.” He leaves the room.

For someone who had been asleep for the past week, you’re pretty tired. So you close your eyes, sinking into the pillow as sleep overtakes your body.

You dream of the man’s blue eyes and metal arm.

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Absolutely Smitten (I’ll Never Let You Go)

Summary: In which Dan is a much-adored primary school music teacher, and Phil is just the science teacher who can’t keep his mind off of him. But when the students notice and try to get in on the action, will Phil finally work up the courage to ask Dan out? Based on this prompt from Phanfic.

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Fluff

Extra tags: Getting together, teacher AU, pure fluff

Warnings: none

Read on ao3

A/N: As an elementary education major currently in my second year of college, I immediately knew this prompt was absolutely perfect for me and there was no way I couldn’t write this. I mean, come on, wouldn’t they just make the perfect teachers? Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

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The Honeymoon - Sebastian x Reader - Full Version

Originally posted by jlstreck

Sebastian Stan x Reader - After getting married and a few months after Isabella being born, you and Seb finally get the well deserved honeymoon.

Warnings: Fluff and some smut. But nice smut.

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anonymous asked:

I'd LOVE if you could write a drunk Simon confessing his feelings to Jace when he drives him home! Especially if it's super fluffy!

yeeeeeeee i love Drunk Shenanigans!!! 

“So this is what you do when I don’t go out with you?” Jace asks, huffing warm air over his fingers. It’s freezing, and he forgot his gloves, because he rushed over here to pick up one Simon Lewis from trying to get back to the apartment they share while drunk as hell. 

“Don’t get mad at me, I made good choices, did good things!” Simon says, pouting prettily as he tilts his head back and looks up at Jace. He’s slumped against Maia and Clary, who are quietly giggling to themselves. 

“He did - ‘good things’ is the cute blonde back in there!” Maia sniggers, and Jace feels his heart break a little more. He scowls, trying to get over the tiny pang in his chest. He’s long since accepted that Simon doesn’t feel the same way as he does, but it still fucking sucks because the guy he likes is the guy he lives with, and the guy who’s made it his mission to insert himself into every part of Jace’s life. 

“I didn’t do him.” Simon insists. “I was gonna, but he’s verrrrrrrrrrrry.”

“Very what?” Clary asks, leaning forward. Jace sighs and pushes her back as she begins to topple off the bench. 

“Very.” Simon agrees, and Jace raises an eyebrow. He’s about to press for more information, when Magnus appears. 

“Oh, finally.” He groans. “Take Simon home, I’ll deal with the girls.” 

“What did you guys drink?” Jace asks, exasperated as Maia nearly punches him in the face in her haste to cling to Clary. 

“We had a competition, and I severely underestimated their tolerance.” Magnus sighs, massaging his temples. “Come along, darlings.” Maia and Clary stumble off with Magnus, and Jace tugs Simon upright. 

“You good, man?” He asks quietly. Simon hums quietly and leans into Jace’s side. 

“Not gonna be sick or anything.” He confirms, and Jace laughs softly, slinging an arm around Simon’s shoulder and steering him to the car. 

“I’ve drunk enough with you to know what you’re like.” Jace muses. “And I am so glad you’re not the kind to throw up. I would not let you within ten feet of my car if you were.” 

“What kind of drunk am I?” Simon asks brightly, then promptly slips on the sidewalk and crumples, holding on to Jace’s arms for dear life. Jace sighs and hauls him back up, and suddenly Simon is very close, close enough to count each eyelash fluttering over warm brown eyes. 

“Clumsy.” Jace says hoarsely, transfixed by the hazy desire clouding Simon’s eyes, before he remembers that Simon is fucking drunk, and he sighs and steps away. “Come on, Lewis.” 

He manages to get Simon into the car with minimal fuss. Simon does try to convince Jace that North Dakota doesn’t exist, but it’s not even the biggest conspiracy theory Simon’s brought up, so Jace isn’t worried as he starts up the car and peers behind him, backing slowly out of the parking space. 

“Oh my god you’re driving.” Simon says suddenly. Jace snorts as he waits patiently for a gaggle of teens to cross the street. “Since when do you drive?” 

“Since a month ago, you went with me to get my license.” Jace mutters. “You’re such a dumbass when you’re drunk.” 

“Let me out, Jace is gonna kill me with his driving!” Simon moans, sinking low into his seat. 


“I’m gonna dieeeeee.” Simon warbles, and then pauses. “Do you have any water? Or can we stop by the ocean to get a drink?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think the Atantic is what you need right now.” Jace says, reaching behind with one hand and grabbing the water he’d thrown in the back seat when he’d heard Simon was drunk. 

Lifesaver.” Simon says gratefully as he takes the bottle and twists the cap off, guzzling it down. He only gets one tiny dribble of water down his chin, and Jace glances over as the car idles at a red light on an empty street. 

“You’ve got a - “ He gestures, and Simon frowns. 

“A printer?” He asks, excited. Jace shakes his head, bemused. 

“Why the fuck would there be a printer?” He asks, glancing once to check that it’s still a red light before he reaches over and swipes his thumb over the drop of water, Simon’s stubble rough under his skin. “There.” 

The light changes to green and he drops his hand back to the wheel, focusing on driving - Simon’s partially right, Jace isn’t the best driver - and there’s silence in the car until he looks back to Simon, worried about the lack of unstoppable rambling. 

Simon is looking at him with a strange, unreadable look on his face, his eyes dark and stormy. Jace frowns and opens his mouth, about to ask what’s wrong, when Simon blurts out, “Do you know Jace Wayland?” 

“Oh my God.” Jace says, shaking his head. “Not this again.” Simon has a habit of conflating Jace and Captain America while he’s drunk, which is cute, but so not helpful. 

“If you see him,” Simon continues, his voice turning a little sad, “can you tell him to kiss me?” 

“What?” Jace asks, not at all proud of the way his voice goes an octave higher. 

“I mean, you’re Captain America. He has to listen to you, right?” Simon asks as Jace tries desperately to focus on pulling into their building’s garage. 

“Buddy,” Jace gets out in a strangled voice, “I think Jace Wayland doesn’t need me to tell him to kiss you.” 

“Did he say something? Does he not want to?” Simon asks, insistently patting Jace’s arm. 

“No.” Jace says shortly, killing the engine and opening the door. 

“Then you should command him. Jace would listen to you, you have muscles!” 

“Oh my God.” Jace groans as he gets Simon out of the car. He staggers a little as Simon leans in with all his weight. “Why is drunk you so horny?” 

“I’m not horny, I love him!” Simon declares. Jace promptly drops Simon. “Ow.” Simon complains from the floor. 

“Lewis. Always complicating things.” Jace says, his heart beating faster and a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. 

“I’m serious, he’s adorable and he cares so much and he’s so good to the world.” Simon says as Jace hauls him off the ground. “Please get him to kiss me.” Jace’s heart clenches and he smiles giddily at Simon. 

“Wake up sober, and I will.” He promises, and Simon nods sleepily, nuzzling into Jace’s neck. 

(The next morning, Jace waits as long as it takes for Simon to stumble into the kitchen and blearily make himself a cup of coffee before he backs the other man into the counter, gets a hand in his shirt, and kisses him as thoroughly as he can. Simon whimpers, his hands flailing for a bit and hitting Jace’s head before settling around Jace’s back, and then he gets with the program, pressing back and sliding his tongue across Jace’s. 

“Got a message from Captain America.” Jace murmurs when they break apart to breathe, his voice low and amused as he watches the bright red flush overtake Simon’s cheeks. 

“Oh God.” Simon groans. “Of all the idiotic things I’ve done - “

“I love you too.” 

“ - that was probably not the worst.” Simon concludes, his smile turning blindingly bright. Jace laughs warmly at that and reels Simon in for another kiss, unable to help himself. The guy he’s in love with is nerdy as fuck, but it’s the sweetest thing in the world, and Jace will send the creator of Captain America a fruit basket if it makes Simon happy.)

anonymous asked:

Can we have some jealous Lance thinking Keith has a crush on Shiro (and maybe background Allura/Shiro)?

Here you go! Enjoy :D

Poor sad space boys are bad at feelings

           Keith and Shiro came out of their lions exclaiming in disbelief about the stunt they’d just pulled in battle, both of them flying straight through a ring of exploding battleships in order to escape the collapsing star behind them. Shiro was caught halfway between “That was insanely dangerous, Keith, everyone, we need to never do anything like that ever again” and “holy shit I can’t believe that actually worked how are we even alive…” Keith was whooping, high on adrenaline and the thrill of success, pulling off his helmet and throwing an arm around Shiro’s shoulder with a grin on his face. Shiro took his helmet off too, leaving Lance, Hunk, and Pidge with only the muffled sounds of their laughter and exclaiming while they pulled the lions into the castle’s main dock. Lance guided Blue down and stared after Keith and Shiro ambling down the hall together. He chewed his lip.

           “Hey, Hunk,” he said into the helmet. “Do you think Keith and Shiro are like… together?”

           “What?” Hunk squawked.

           “Well just look at them,” he said, gesturing after them even though Hunk couldn’t see him. “They never act like that with any of the rest of us.”

           “Keith and Shiro have known each other longer than they’ve known us,” Pidge said, sounding entirely bored by the idea. “Why do you care anyway? Got a crush?”

           “What? Pffffft. No,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just curious. It affects the team dynamic, you know?”

           “Whatever you say, Lance,” Pidge said. “I need a shower. I’ll see you guys at dinner.” Lance saw her hop out of Green and stride off to her room.

           “Do you have a crush?” Hunk asked him, now they were alone on the coms. Lance made a face.

           “Shiro’s, like, my idol, man. I had a celebrity crush on him before I actually met him but now it would just be weird.” He heard Hunk snort on the other end of the line.

           “I was thinking you probably had a crush on Keith.”

           “What?” Lance spluttered. “Hunk, has space made you crazy? In what universe could I possibly have a crush on Keith?”

           “Well, you talk about him all the time—”

           “I complain about him all the time!”

           “You want his attention—”

           “I want him to know I’m better than him!”

           “You can ‘recognize that mullet anywhere’—”

           “Because no one else in this century has a mullet, for God’s sakes,” Lance grumbled. He could hear the smug grin in Hunk’s words.

           “I’m just saying.”

           “You are so wrong dude.” Lance slid out of Blue and waved up at Yellow. “I agree with Pidge, I need a shower.”

           “Somehow you picked rooms next to each other even though you supposedly hate each other…”

           “Would you shut up?” Lance grumbled. He heard Hunk’s laughter before he pulled the helmet off his head and stomped away towards his room. Just his luck, Keith and Shiro were in the hall, still talking. Keith was murmuring something so soft that Lance could barely hear him speaking, and he saw Shiro go red and wave his hand in protest. Keith shoved at him playfully, and Shiro walked away. Keith watched him go with a fond smile on his face. Lance felt like he was about to boil over and he had no idea why, but at least Keith was right there and always a good target for his aggression. He marched up to the guy and whacked him on the back of the head. Keith spun around, fury overtaking his expression, and glared at Lance.

           “What was that for?” he demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

           “You almost got yourself killed today, how can you and Shiro just go off and laugh about it?” Lance demanded. Keith gaped at him.

           “Seriously? You’re mad at me because I’m pleasantly surprised to be alive? What is your problem with me?” Lance crossed his arms and glared, a hot coil of guilty pleasure in having a chance to speak his mind.

           “You’re always pulling stupid stunts like this – and Shiro is just fine with it ­– what’s with the two of you, anyway? Huh? Why are you all… so buddy-buddy all the time, and just neeeeeeever a bad word to say about the other and… ugh.” Keith’s hands balled into fists.

           “Shiro’s like a brother to me,” he said. “He’s saved my life in ways you would never understand, so don’t you dare say a word against him.” He took a step in closer, shoulders squaring up against Lance.

           “Like a brother. Sure,” Lance rolled his eyes.

           “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           “You two are totally dating, aren’t you?” Keith blinked, brought up short.

           “I— what?”

           “Come on, don’t lie.”

           “We’re not… What?” Lance rolled his eyes, not sure why something sharp and hot seemed to be swelling in his throat.

           “I’ve seen the way you two talk to each other. Why are you keeping it a secret?”

           “Because it’s not happening. You’re seeing things.”

           “Oh yeah? Then what was all that just now?” He gestured down the hallway where Shiro had gone. “All that lovey-dovey whispering to each other, and, and Shiro blushing like that?” Keith pressed his lips together. “Yeah, don’t have an answer, do you?”

           “I was encouraging him to ask out Allura!” Keith blurted out. “God, Lance, have you not seen the way those two look at each other, or are you totally blinded by your crush on her? He just needs a push to actually do it.” Keith paused, eyes roving over Lance. “But you can’t tell anyone that, okay? He doesn’t want anyone to know.” Lance blinked, the hot and sharp feeling in his throat suddenly gone.

           “Oh,” he said, deflated. “But you…” Keith crossed his arms.

           “Why do you even care, anyway?” Lance paused, Hunk’s words in the hangar echoing in his head. A flower of an idea blossomed in his chest, petals thinner than paper and as fragile as glass. He met Keith’s eyes and a terrifying certainty jolted through his chest like lightning. He opened his mouth, wet his lips, but didn’t speak yet. Keith continued to glare at him, and Lance clenched the flower in his chest and crumbled it into dust.

           “No reason,” he said, the words sticking in his throat. “I’ll see you later. Keith.” He took off down the hall, slamming the door to his room shut behind him, before Keith could see the tears in his eyes.

Concussion || Jughead Jones

Prompt from anon: hey! i don’t know if you’re still taking requests, but if you are, it would be so cool to write a fic where jug and the reader are best friends (and they both have feelings for eachother but they think the other doesn’t) and reggie is bullying jughead and then the reader comes and defends him and maybe reggie hurts her (like slaps her or something) and then jug takes care of her and they admit their feelings and just a ton of fluff???? thanks so much i LOVE your writing!

A/N: It’s 1 am and I’m really fucking tired so if there’s spelling or grammar mistakes please don’t sue me lmao.

Gif by @ravemreyes


“Hey, Norman Bates!” Reggie called faintly.

You heard someone getting shoved against the lockers and groaned.

Not again.

You ran to where the crowd was growing with people and pushed your way to the front. There was Reggie and his friends, taunting and pushing Jughead against the lockers. Jughead meanwhile gave no indication he was in any “real” trouble, looking more annoyed than anything. But you had had enough.

For years you had watched Reggie and his group bully Jughead and you were sick of standing around and doing nothing. You stepped into the space where Jughead was being held against the locker by Reggie and where Reggie’s gang was. Jughead’s eyes widened as he saw you step into the clearing and he looked… panicked?

“Hey, Reggie!” you barked.

People around you “oohed” at your tone towards the taller teen. He was not someone to be messed with, and even Jughead knew this.

“Y/N, don’t—”

“Hey there, Harley Quinn!” Reggie said, turning around while still keeping your best friend against the lockers.

Damn, the guy was strong.

“Let him go.” you said.

Everyone except you and Jughead laughed.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Y/N.” Reggie said as he raised a fist, turning back towards Jughead.

You rushed over to the two of them and grabbed Reggie’s raised arm.

“Leave him alone!” you said.

“Y/N!” Jughead said as he struggled against Reggie’s grip.

Without thinking, Reggie shoved you with his free hand against the lockers, your head banging against the metal. The laughs and cheers immediately stopped as you began to slide down against the lockers. Dizziness began to overtake you, and black spots clouded your vision. The last thing you remembered was hearing a familiar frantic voice and someone catching you before your head hit the floor.

When you came to, the first thing you realized was that you were in the nurse’s office lying on a bed. The bright lights over you made you dizzy and there was a throbbing pain in the back of your head. Your sight was blurry and your ears felt clouded, like you couldn’t hear anything very well.

“Y/N?” a voice asked from beside you.

You looked over at the figure and squinted, trying to see who it was. The barely visible hat on the person’s head was a dead giveaway.

“Jughead?” you asked as your vision began to clear.

It was then you realized that he was holding your hand and your heartbeat quickened.

“Wh-What happened?” you asked.

Jughead laughed humorlessly.

“Someone tried to come to my rescue. Not your best idea.” he said, a small smile on his face.

You chuckled.

“Someone had to do something,” you said. “What happened to Reggie?”

Jughead frowned at the name.

“After he… shoved you, Weatherbee finally came out of his office to see what all the commotion was about and saw what had happened. Put two and two together. Mantle’s in Weatherbee’s office getting yelled at right now. Might get suspended or expelled.”

You smiled, pleased with yourself.

“Good.” you said.

Jughead chuckled.

“Nurse said you have a mild concussion, so I got to make sure that you sleep. Get some brain rest. No phone, no TV, no—”

“Wait,” you said. “‘You need to make sure?’ You don’t have to take care of me, Jughead.”

Jughead shrugged.

“It’s the least I can do. You’re the one that got a concussion because of me.”

You shook your head.

“I got it because of Reggie. And it was worth it.”

Jughead smiled shyly.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. “I—”

He cut himself off, pondering what to say next.

“Jughead?” you pressed after a minute of silence. Jughead looked down.

“I—When I saw you lying on the ground, I thought I had lost you. I knowing thinking back on it, it sounds crazy, but in the moment, it felt real. I realized that life’s too short, and I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

Jughead paused again, trying to formulate his words.

“I love you, Y/N.” he finally said. 

Your eyes widened.


“If you don’t love me back, that’s fine, um, we can go on as if nothing happened, as if—”

“Jughead!” you said, louder.

Jughead was silent and looked up at you. You smiled softly at him.

“I love you, too.” you said.

Jughead’s eyes widened.


“You really think I would throw myself in front of Reggie if I didn’t love you?” you joked.

Jughead laughed.

“No, I suppose not.” he said.

You smiled and he saw your eyelids begin to droop as sleep began to overtake you again..

“Go to bed, Y/N,” he said, gently kissing your forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake. I’ll always be here.”


A/N: Lmao all I’m saying is that I’m going to bed. Night y’all! 


@gottalovetheapocalypse @lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @juggie-jones-iii @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @johnmurphys-sass

A New Family

ayyyyy I’m alive!! this was requested FOREVER ago by my bae @genericusernameblahblahblah (I hope you like it <3)

Pairing: washette + smol!hamilsquad

Premise: George and Lafayette meet the boy they’re adopting… and his friends.

Warnings: none :D

Word Count: 1331

a/n: I am very aware that this is not how adoption works… just… for the sake of the fluff…. <3

Laf’s leg jiggled up and down, his fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on his knee. George put a calming hand on his leg to cease the bouncing.

“Gil… you have to calm down,” George said soothingly.

“But, George! What if he hates us?” Laf asked frantically.

“How could he hate you?” he replied kindly, and a little smile pulled at the corner of his husband’s mouth. Before he could respond, however, the door opened, and the adoption agency worker (who introduced herself as Eliza) and a ten-year-old ball of energy walked in.

Laf stood up to greet them and was immediately attacked by the little pony-tailed boy, who ran straight into his legs, almost knocking him over.

“Hello!” Laf cried, a huge grin overtaking his face. “You must be Alex!”

Keep reading

Bucky’s medicine

(A/N): I loved this request so fucking much, I can only hope I did it justice

Request:Can you do one where the reader is Bucky’s own personal medicine and the only one that can calm him down. And HYDRA used her to keep him in line. And she is small and fragile but when Bucky is taken to the Stark Tower he wants her so the team has to go get her from the HYRDA base. And she doesn’t talk much and gets scared and only trust Bucky and he is protective over her.

Warnings: A bit of angst I guess? swearing, the usual

Tags: @mcuimxgine

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

   “Bring (Y/N) in,” Pierce muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as the winter soldier had nearly taken down every guard within the near vicinity of him, all the others were cowering in the corners until he calmed down, which seemed to be fruitless considering he’d been rampaging for a good ten minutes now. 

   (Y/N) was the only thing that could calm the winter soldier down, turning him into a rage machine into a sweet, broken man in under two seconds. Hydra had realized that the winter soldier was going to need an anchor after everything he went through, even after all the brainwashing he was still unstable when mad and Hydra needed a backup plan for situations like this, when the winter soldier was inconsolable or uncontrollable. 

   (Y/N) had been taken from the streets of Brooklyn back in the 40′s, they too being frozen for long periods of time, only coming out when they were needed. They were starved, beaten, and used at Hydra’s pleasure and of course to calm Hydra’s own machine when needed. 

   (Y/N) was small and frail, underfed, and all together weaker than any other person on any Hydra base across the world but they’d been hardwired into the winter soldier’s brain as a comfort, something that would console him even at his most inconsolable times. A time like now, when the soldier was angry and in pain, murdering anyone that came within five feet of his clenched fists. 

   Not even a moment after Pierce’s orders two guards returned, their hands gripping painfully tight around (Y/N)’s already frail and small arms. However, they were so out of it from the Cyrofreeze that Pierce doubted they could even comprehend what was going on, the soldier on the other hand had just enough clarity to perk up at the sight of (Y/N) through the bars surrounding his cage. 

   “Throw ‘em in,” Pierce muttered quietly, turning away from the scene as the two guards did exactly that, throwing (Y/N) into the soldier’s quarters, not even caring when they landed sprawled out on the floor, groaning in pain. Guess they were coming to their senses.

   “(Y/N),” Is all the winter soldier murmured as he dropped to the floor, immediately helping (Y/N) up into a sitting position. He stared at their face earnestly, studying the dark lines under their eyes, the way their skin seemed to be stretched over their bones, giving them a rather skeleton like appearance. 

   “Hey Winter,” (Y/N) was never told the soldier’s real name for the fear that it would jog his memory causing him to panic even more, all (Y/N) was provided with was his code name The Winter soldier and to make it slightly less intimidating (Y/N) had merely shortened it down to Winter, an almost fond form to the fear inducing name. 

   “What did they do to you?” He asks softly, his tone much softer than it’d ever been before. He steals a glance upwards, seeing the way his trainers stared at him, their eyes full of disgust as though he were some animal. 

    “Nothin’ I don’t deserve,” (Y/N) gave him a small smile, albeit laced with exhaustion. The soldier looked back down to (Y/N), studying their very prominent chin and cheekbones. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that (Y/N) was starving, a thought that did break the soldier’s heart. 

   The winter soldier didn’t care for much in this world, he was just a machine, operating as his owners so pleased. He wasn’t allowed to care for anything, it got in the way of his job and that was absolutely against Hydra’s rules but they did allow him one simple pleasure in his god awful life- (Y/N). 

   For as long as he could remember, which wasn’t very long given he had a very terrible memory, (Y/N) had always been there for him, they were there after every mission, taking his beaten and most likely bloodied hands and staring up at him with the utmost fondness in their eyes, on that had diminished even now, even when they were starving to death. They weren’t scared of him, they didn’t want him to be some machine, they were simply there for whenever the soldier needed them and that’s more than he could ever ask for in this awful lifestyle. 

    “You’re hungry,” He states softly, one hand traveling down (Y/N)’s body to rest on their rather bony hips. Last time he’d held them there was most definitely more fat clinging to their body, now there was hardly any fat or muscle there, they were literally skin and bone. 

   “I don’t ask for what I won’t receive,” (Y/N) merely states, shivering against the chill of rather freezing Hydra base. It didn’t help that (Y/N) was severely underweight and their base was underground, only making them that much colder. Without a word the soldier pulls (Y/N) into a hug, keeping their frail and small body against his. He could hear some of the guards murmuring about the affection but he payed them no mind, to busy in trying to warm (Y/N) up. 

   “You get five more minutes (Y/N),” Pierce mutters, obviously very displeased with what was happening between the two but if it helped calm the soldier down then so be it. The soldier only holds (Y/N) closer and he’d be damned if he let anyone of those bastards hurt them again. They were too sweet for this, too kind and too pure to be treated this way. 

    Five minutes passed in a flash, the doors to the soldier’s cage opening as the same guards stepped inside, guns at their sides as they reached out to grab at (Y/N)’s forearms, tearing them away from his warm chest. The soldier wanted to cry out, beg for them to let him keep (Y/N) just awhile longer, but both and (Y/N) knew that any protests would result in both of them receiving a severe beating. So instead the soldier had to watch (Y/N) leave, the guards handling them much too roughly for his liking. And with that his cage was locked again and the guards still alive grabbed him and chained him to his chair, preparing to start the brainwashing process all over again. 

    “There had to be some way Hydra kept him in check,” Tony muttered as he pointed to Bucky who at the moment was looking like a kicked puppy. Somehow on the mission Hydra had interfered, someone stating the trigger words and Bucky was falling into the pit of winter soldier all over again. 

   “Tony it was a one time thing, I’m sure it’s not gonna-” 

   “They did,” Bucky’s voice is hoarse, most likely from the tears and hatred bubbling in his throat. Both men turn to look at him with looks of mild shock upon their face, perhaps mixed with a bit of fear for what he was going to say. “Their name was (Y/N),” 

   Bucky had explained who exactly (Y/N) was, what they meant to him, what they did for him…

   “So they were kinda your own personal medicine?” Steve asks meekly, his tone soft and quiet. Bucky nods, staring down at his metal hand, remembering the way (Y/N) had held it so tenderly, even when the metal plates had been stained with blood. 

   “Why don’t we go get them then?” Tony asks blatantly, “It shouldn’t be too hard to track them down now that Shield’s security it tighter, right?” Bucky shakes his head, sighing shakily as he does. 

   “They were only kept around to keep me in check, with me no longer there I bet they were killed ages ago,” Both Steve and Tony share a look, a sad sympathetic look for their friend. 

   “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to find them,” Steve suggests softly, giving Bucky a small albeit hopeful smile. 

   “I can start running logistics now,” Tony smiles, already pulling up some technically little piece of equipment, quickly typing in some search or something like that. 

   “You guys-” Bucky begins, only to have Steve cut him off a moment later. 

   “We’re finding them for you Bucky, whether they’re dead or alive it doesn’t matter to us,” Bucky can’t help the small smile the overtakes his features at Steve’s words, his lips curling upwards in the sweetest way. Now god help them that they really could find (Y/N), and alive too.

   “So the sub levels is where the freezing chambers are?” Steve asks as he straps on his helmet, staring at Bucky earnestly. Bucky nods as he reaches for his preferred gun, shifting it around in his hands before placing it at his side. 

   “Yeah, most likely one of the very last halls, it’s most likely really old, run down, dirty,” Steve nods as he grabs his shield, locking it onto his back. 

   “I promise Buck,” Steve clasps his shoulder gently. “We’re gonna get ‘em back,” Bucky smiles, trying to hide how nervous he really was. He didn’t know if he could stomach the thought of (Y/N) being dead, after all they went through he simply couldn’t stand the thought. 

   “Yeah,” He sighs, nodding, “I hope,” 

    Bucky charged down the halls, completely avoiding the bullets reigning from every Hydra agents gun in the near vicinity, some far place down the hall he could hear some man screaming his words after him but he wasn’t going to let them affect him, not now at least, not when he was so close to where (Y/N) once used to be. He ran faster than his legs could have ever carried him, leading him to smack right into a wall as he turns a corner. 

   There it was, a bold steel door in front of him, just begging to be opened. Without skipping a beat he ripped the door open, his eyes already scanning the room for some Cyrofreeze machine. What his eyes landed on was a tall, cylindrical container, much like his own, with many wires attached to it. Since every other winter soldier was dead there was only a few possibilities here; one, Hydra created another serum to perfect another soldier, it was a trap, or it was (Y/N). Without a second of hesitation Bucky punched the glass of the container, listening to the somewhat satisfying hiss of air that followed. 

   “Oh god,” He muttered as he tore at the glass, only stopping when an all too familiar face was revealed, the air around them having finally dissipated. They were much more sickly looking than the last time he saw them which was saying something considering just how sick (Y/N) had looked the last time he saw them. They had almost no muscle to their face, their entire frame just skin and bone, quite literally now. 

   After gawking at (Y/N) for a bit he reached for their air mask, ripping it from their face rather quickly. Then he got to town on all the other wires and tubes hanging from their body. 

   “Bucky!” Steve called from somewhere down the hall, his tone rather frantic as he did. 

   “Shit,” Bucky muttered, attempting to hurry up his process of ripping things away from (Y/N). 

  “Bucky, come on buddy we gotta get outta-” But Steve’s voice stops at the doorway, his eyes taking in (Y/N)’s form as they slump against Bucky after having finally been relieved of all their wires and tubes. 

   “I know,” Bucky murmured, quickly hoisting them up as though they weighed nothing and in a way they did. They literally weighed nothing in his arms, they were so frail and small that he was scared of breaking them but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone else care for them. “Hydra’s starved them since the day they got here, I’m lucky they survived this long,” Steve nods, only staring for a moment or two before he slips back into his Captain persona. 

   “Bucky Hydra’s all over the place, we gotta get out of here and quick,” Bucky nods, holding (Y/N) to his body in an all too protective manner. 

   “Got it,” 

    Bucky remained by (Y/N)’s side the entire flight back, refusing to even budge when Sam said he needed help stitching up his back. There was no way he was letting (Y/N) wake up to an unfamiliar place, without one familiar face around. 

   “Buck-” Steve sighed as he slumped on the floor of the quinjet, exhausted from the day’s impromptu mission. “You need sleep, I’m sure (Y/N) will be just fine if you’re asleep and-” 

   “No,” Bucky growled, holding (Y/N) to his chest a bit tighter. ‘I’m not going to sleep until they wake up and eat,” 

   “But Bucky-” 

   “Don’t try to argue Steve,” Bucky glares at him, trying to tell his friend to back off in a somewhat nice manner. Steve sighed, shrugging his shoulders lightly. 

   “Fine, I can’t make you do anything, but don’t come crying to me when you’re exhausted from lack of sleep,” Bucky gave Steve one last glare before directing his attention back to (Y/N), whose sickly body was still trying to shake off the Cyrofreeze. Bucky could only hope that the damage done to their body wasn’t permanent…

    Bucky waited hours for (Y/N) to wake up but as dawn was nearing and they haven’t as so much stirred he began to grow concerned. 

  “Fuck,” He all but whimpered as he shifted in his spot once again, his ass nearly numb from sitting so long. “God (Y/N), please wake up,” Beside him Steve and Sam slept soundly, the steady rise and fall of their chests only soothing Bucky’s nerves somewhat. 

   “Winter?” The voice was so broken and so quiet Bucky wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t on such high alert. With wide eyes and parted lips he redirected his attention back to the body settled against him. “Winter is that you?” 

   “Oh my god,” Bucky sighed in relief, burying his nose in (Y/N)’s still freezing hair. “Oh my god (Y/N), you’re alive,” 

   “Where are-” (Y/N) licked their lips slowly, the movement slow and methodical. Bucky couldn’t help but notice just how dry (Y/N)’s lips and tongue were, guess they had been deprived of water too. “Where are we?” 

   “We got out,” Bucky nearly squeaks, his emotions getting the better of him. “I got us out of there (Y/N),” Despite (Y/N)’s very prominent exhaustion they smile, their lips curling upwards slowly and lazily. 

   “We’re free?” 

   “We’re free.” Bucky states, nodding against (Y/N). 

   “Do you- do you have any water?” (Y/N) asks meekly, as though they were scared of asking. Immediately Bucky nods, having prepared for this moment, He reached with one hand to grab the water bottle behind him, quickly popping the top off and guiding it to (Y/N)’s lips. 

   “Tell me when to stop,” Bucky whispered, slowly pouring bits of water into (Y/N)’s mouth. For having been starved and dehydrated for years they were taking the water well, downing at least half a bottle before raising their weak hand to Bucky’s, grasping it to tell him to stop. “I’ve got some food for you too,” He adds, his voice in softer now than it was before. “Think you can eat?” (Y/N) nods their head, some form of noise falling from their lips. 

   Bucky smiles gently as he grabs the protein bar Sam had packed, surely he wouldn’t mind if he shared with (Y/N)? Even if he did care Bucky didn’t and (Y/N) desperately needed food. They ate at least half of that before they stopped, telling Bucky that their stomach hurt and for good reason too. Decades without food had to do something to (Y/N)’s stomach, probably shrink it a good few sizes and Bucky was amazed that (Y/N) was able to eat and drink that much. 

   “Who’s that?” (Y/N)’s voice sounds scared as they point to Steve on the left side of his body. 

   “That’s Steve Rogers, he’s an old friend of mine,” 

   “What about him?” (Y/N) points to Sam on his right, their finger trembling softly. 

   “That’s Sam, he’s a friend too,” 

   “Can I trust them?” 

   “With your life,” Bucky nods, reaching out to hold (Y/N)’s shaking hand. To this day Bucky couldn’t believe the way (Y/N)’s hand felt in his, absolutely perfect, like two pieces of a puzzle. 

   “Thank you winter,” (Y/N) mutters, closing their eyes as their exhaustion overtakes their small body once again. 

   “My name’s Bucky,” Bucky whispers as he presses a kiss to the top of (Y/N)’s hair, allowing his lips to linger there before he pulled them away. “But you can keep calling me Winter,” 

Google Translate Sings pt. 4  {Sentence Starters} 

  • “We are hiding!”
  • “Please lead me.”
  • “Overtake ‘em all.”
  • “This is my crime…”
  • “I see famous people.”
  • “Do not do bad things.”
  • “…That behind.” *wink*
  • “You plan to be boring!”
  • “I will help you be boring!”
  • “You can call me ‘queen’.”
  • “Why? She was infected?”
  • “God was good… to try me.”
  • “…Adulterer with enthusiasm.” 
  • “But, I will have a guy shortly.”
  • “I am endeavoring to get drunk.” 
  • “I heard you didn’t know about me.”
  • “You will not be hungry! …But, I will.”
  • “If you do not fly, you will not get me!”
  • “I do not want a child who loves trees.”
  • “We all dwell in an amber subdomain.” 
  • “We want a different kind of excitement.”
  • “He also accepted me… as I am a person.”
  • “Human beings are not quite as boring as me.”
  • “Why, honey, I’m a nightmare dressed like a screensaver.”
  • “Every time I see someone better than me… and, face it, NO ONE IS.”

Bonam Noctem ; Good Night 

When you’re lying in bed with your softest clothes on. The room is dark and the sheets are warm. The night sky paints a calm picture and yet you still can’t let dreams overtake you since thoughts of tomorrow overwhelms you. This is a lullaby for you. Let the gentle embrace of sleep enfold you and keep you safe. Close your eyes, take a deep breath; 

 and go to sleep.”

+ listen

“We Don’t Talk Anymore” || Kim Seokjin

Originally posted by lavender-kills

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Angst

Seoul was a busy place full of busy people. It seemed that no matter what road you took or corner you turned, there was always somebody with somewhere to go.

It was normal by now to you, being the odd one out. The one who didn’t exactly fit. Everybody else had become puzzle pieces that all fit perfectly together and you just happened to be a little bit bigger than the rest.

It kept you awake at night, questioning why you were still here. Wondering why the urge to leave wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be.

Of course you knew in the end it was almost always directly related to him. There wasn’t a moment anymore where he wasn’t on your mind. There wasn’t a moment where you could think freely about anything else.

It had been a couple months since you had last talked to Jin. Maybe longer, you didn’t know. Your brain just took day after day in as a blur because you didn’t want to think about how much pain you were really in.

He had been gone for so long, and he’d been ignoring you for a while. You weren’t quite sure what had started it at first, but now you couldn’t do anything without pulling out your phone and looking for a reply. Waiting for that moment where he would finally acknowledge you again.

Three months.

Three months without him and here you were, still waiting in the cold, dark, empty abyss that was your apartment. There was nothing here that didn’t remind you of him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of his stuff. It was as if one day he would just come back and things would still be the same.

You pulled out your phone and looked at the last message you had received all those months ago. It was a goodnight text from him.

After that you had texted him constantly, but it seemed that the longer you waited, the less you texted. That didn’t change the fact that you still waited up at night for the sound of the door opening and closing as he came home. But you knew it would never come.

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Poker Night

Poker Night

“Not your agent? Lawyer? Hell even Skip?” Blip questioned.

“What’s the problem?” Mike asked.

“Ginny. Ginny is your emergency contact.”

“Again… what’s the problem?”

The evening was supposed to be filled with poker and beer. Free from the game, stress, and women. But somehow the guys had shifted the conversation back to their favorite subject, Ginny Baker. More specifically, Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker.

“She’s like 24,” Butch chimed in.

“She is,” Mike said, his jaw clenching.

“But she knows everything. What’s the big deal?”

“How does she know everything?” Dusty asked incredulously.

“Please, you know how she knows everything,” Sal mumbled under his breath.

Mike was getting irritated. He really just wanted to have a night out with the guys without having to explain his non relationship relationship.

Mike was fully aware of how it looked. She wore his clothes, had feminine products at his house, and was the only one who could chip away at his cantankerous mood after a loss. And yeah, she knew the pass codes to his safes and had his mom’s number on her family speed dial, but all of that could be easily explained. At least that’s what Mike thought before he actually realized how ridiculous it all sounded, even to himself.

It’s not like Ginny had come to know this information overnight. After nearly two years of midnight talks, weekend staycations, Mike realized just how deeply woven Ginny was into his life. Even though Ginny depended on him for things like food, driving, and general adulting, Mike depended on her just as much. She had learned to cook his favorite soup when he was sick. She was a godsend to his assistant, taking on basic duties Mike was more than capable of doing for himself… wifely duties if Mike was truly honest. Not that he would ever call them that out loud… he had had his fair share of feminista rants from 43.

“Earth to Mike,” Butch let out, snapping his fingers.

Mike shook his head in an attempt to bring himself back into the conversation and soon felt his phone vibrate.

“One sec guys,” Mike said excusing himself from the table.

“The old ball and chain,” Sal said with a chuckle.

“Hey Gin,” Mike tried to whisper unsuccessfully to a roar of laughter behind him.

“I still don’t see why I wasn’t allowed to come,” Ginny whined.

“No girls allowed Rook. I didn’t make the rules,” Mike said, a huge smile overtaking his face.

“You’re Captain! Rules are kinda your thing.”

“Since when? You never listen to me,”

“That’s all I ever do is listen to you old man… ”

“Lot of good it’s done,” Mike said with a laugh.

“What do you want? You just call to gripe?”

“Our show is on… How much can you really take of Butch’s old stories and Sal’s bad jokes…?”

“You miss me huh?”

“You hate it when I watch it without you… This is me being considerate.”

“You can admit it Gin, you miss me..” Mike said expecting Ginny to tire of his teasing.

“Come home…” Ginny said in the smallest voice.

“Give me 15… okay sweetheart?”




When Mike returned to the table the guys all had knowing looks.

“You taking off old man?” Blip asked, the smirk dancing on his lips.

“Yeah. Gonna call it a night boys,” Mike said gathering his leather jacket and keys.

Mike had almost made it to the door when he heard Sal’s version of a whip being cracked.

“Whippishhh!” Sal rang out.

“Fuck you guys,” Mike said heading out the door, the smile big and bright across his face.

The guys laughter was only muted by the closed door. He would be endlessly teased about bailing on Poker Night, but he didn’t care, his girl was waiting for him at home.

Fantasies (M) | Yoongi/Jimin

Anonymous Requested :  An Incubus!Yoonmin threesome, m/m, with face/thigh riding.

Genre : Smut | Incubus!Yoonmin | Supernatural AU | Yoonmin x Reader

A/N : Okay so I am by no means an expert on incubi, like at all. So when I was doing research for writing this, I kind of just picked which elements about the lore I wanted to incorporate into the story, to fit the nature of the request. The sin was rolling off of my body while writing this, so hopefully you’ll all enjoy!

Word Count : 5,291

Description : They have an underlying strangeness about them, that you just can’t put your finger on. Regardless though when you meet the two boys at a party you still decide to go home with them, how will this night turn out?

Originally posted by jeonsshi

You could feel the stares from across the room, but you couldn’t tell where exactly they were coming from. The party was crowded, and there was almost no space to walk, but you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that there were specific pair of eyes on you at all times.

You moved over to the drink table to down another shot, so you could try and shake the strange feeling that was clouding the atmosphere around you. The liquid burned as it slid down your throat, but the instant the drink hit your stomach, an overwhelming desire to dance takes over your body. You saunter over to the pack of people dancing, and join in as you let the music control your movements. It’s fun, and you can feel a lightness overtake you as you feel yourself drifting through the mass of people.

You continue to enjoy the feeling of the alcohol taking over your impaired mind, when you suddenly feel a body press into you from behind, and a pair of hands attach themselves to your waist. You’re about to turn around to kindly tell the person grinding into your ass to fuck off, but when his face comes into view, the words get lost.

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I Hate You - (A Chen One Shot)

“Yah! Are you ready? You’re taking forever! The guys are waiting for us.” You heard your roommate Minhee shriek from the living room.

“Remind me who’s going again,” you continued painstakingly drawing in your eyeliner, smiling when you finished the second wing. A few sweeps of mascara and you were ready.

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(A/N): I just thought this would be cute but as I was writing it I realized it was significantly less cuter than I thought it was going to be…

Summary: Sebastian alludes to the fact he’s got someone back home, aka (Y/N)

Warnings: Maybe some swearing

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309

Originally posted by erikbottoming

   "So Sebastian, many of your fans would love to know if you’re single,“ Anthony chuckles at the question, knowing just how damn desperate all the girls out there were for this answer.

    "Uh- I’m actually not,” Sebastian smiles a bit, his eyes sparkling in a soft fashion. “I’ve got someone back in New York," 

    "What?” Anthony looks at him, a disbelieving smile on his face. “No way, Seb’s no longer a single Pringle?”

    “I haven’t been a single Pringle for months,” Seb smiles, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards. 

    “Can you tell us about this mystery person then?” The interviewer asks, clearly eager to get a scoop. 

    “Yeah I wanna know too,” Anythony adds in, giving his full attention to Seb. “Didn’t even tell me you had someone back home,” he grumbles making Seb laugh just a bit. “Freakin’ bullshit," 

    "Well, they’re gorgeous for starters, absolutely stunning, the funniest person you’ll ever meet, so kind too, um-" 

    "I hope you don’t mind me Interrupting but can you tell us their name?" 

   "Yeah, their name is (Y/N),” Seb smiles, an almost find look overtaking his features.

    “And how long have you guys been dating for?" 

    "A year, almost a year and a half,”

    “What the hell?” Anthony smacks his hand down on his chair, a mock anger coursing through his veins. “Why didn’t I know about this?" 

    "I don’t know,” Sebastian shrugs, “you never asked,”

    “Oh, I’m pissed,” Anthony turns back to the reporter, seething just a bit. “I’m real pissed,” The reporter chuckles, smiling as well.

    “So, have the two of you talked about getting serious, settling down, having kids?" 

    "Yeah, yeah we have, we’ve both waiting for the right moment for everything but we’ve talked about that kind of stuff,”

    “How did you guys meet? I’m so curious about this mystery person,” the interviewer smiles, leaning forward onto her elbows to get a better look at the two.

    “Well, I actually met them at some Starbucks in LA, they were studying there and I just fell head over heels for them instantly," 

    "So, is this person living with you?” Seb nods, smiling once again.

    “Yeah, we’ve got this apartment in New York that we’ve been staying in for a few months,”

    “Wow, this must be one lucky person,”

    “No, I always feel like the lucky one, like I’ve landed this amazing, wonderful human being who, y'know, actually likes me,” The reporter and Anthony smile fondly, each of them making their own “awwing” noise. 

    “Look at that,” Anthony pets Seb’s arm. “Sebastian’s getting all sentimental. But when can I meet this person? Like, a year and a half? What the hell man?” Seb laughs, raising his hands in mock defeat. 

    “We had never discussed coming out about our relationship is all," 

    "But now that it is out can we expect to see this (Y/N) with you more often?" 

   "Oh yeah, expect them at every event, every premiere, every photo you see of me (Y/N)’s gonna be in there too,”

    “Well, I sure hope I can interview the two of you together, that’d be tons of fun,” Seb laughs, nodding his head. 

    “Well, hopefully we can," 

    "But like- I get to meet them first right?” Anthony asks, his tone only slightly hurt. 

    “I will bring them around if you stop asking, yes,”

    “Yessss,” Anthony hisses, smirking to himself in victory.

    “Well boys, I think that’s all the time we have for today, it was so great talking to you two and I hope I can have the pleasure of interviewing you guys again,” With that conclusion (Y/N) clicks out of the video, smiling softly at Seb’s words. 

   In only a few hours time he’s be home from filming one of his various projects and (Y/N) would be more than happy to kiss his lips and tell him that they were the luckiest son of a bitch this world had ever seen.

yourlittle-scarletharlot  asked:

Hah of course darling. So how about, the reader gets drunk and Luci gets protective and jealous over some one sided flirting, maybe from Dean or some creep at a bar.... And he ends up taking her home and looks after her?

Well, isn’t that interesting? Thank you, hon)) I started with a bit of Casifer here. A bit. I hope you like it))

You getting drunk in a local bar. And actually drunk, hoping you’ll end up in Heaven after this night. Or Hell. The reason why you aren’t in the mood for just normal ‘drink and go home’ evening is that Lucifer, the Satan you like, possesses the body of your dearest friend, Castiel. Lucifer came by and simply stated the “he’s back, sunshine”, making you face the rough truth.

“Hey handsome,” a random guy sits next to you, and you turn to him, leaving the empty glass. You have no idea what it had in - either vodka or… well… vodka. it was definitely vodka.

“Hi,” you nod.

“What is such a pretty girl doing alone here?” supposedly, he wants to hit on you. Such a cliche.

“Getting trashed, don’t you see?”

“Would you like some company then?” you shrug your shoulders. “Why are here? Rude boyfriend?”

“You wish. The guy I like possesses the body of my friend,” you murmur and gulp another glass. “And I am totally lost.”

“Huh, what about I find you?” his hand slips on your shoulder and then slides down on your waist.

“What about no?” the guy literally flies away, and his seat is taken by Castiel. No, Lucifer. “Y/N, good evening.”

“Mate, I was the first one here,” the drunk slowly walks back, pointing at you. “She is mine.”

“Not now, not ever,” Lucifer said with his face almost yelling ‘bored’, as he rapidly moves his hand, grasping the neck of the poor drunk. “She is not yours. Walk away and never get back here before I decided to snap your neck,” he turns to you and quickly takes the next glass from your hand. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Not for you to decide,” you hiccup and try to catch his hand, but end up just landing your head on the table. “Go to Hell, Lucifer.”

“I am just out of there. Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you home,” he gently grabs your waist, pulling you closer, as you move to your small apartment. Dizzy after the relocation (and the ‘getting drunk’ part of your evening), you almost fall down and are saved with Lucifer’s hands, as he still hold you close. “Hey, hey, hey… I gotcha.”

“Go. To. Hell,” you repeat clearly, actually proud of being able to pronounce such a phrase. “I… can’t deal with you.”

“Why? Because I am possessing Cassie? Trust me, he let me in himself,” he grins and slowly helps you get down on the couch. “It wasn’t like I made him invite me in.”

“I can’t…” you murmur and close your eyes, feeling incredibly tired.

“Oh… Right. Getting drunk,” Lucifer grabs a blanket and covers you with it, making sure you are getting warm. “Y/N, why is it a problem? I’ll be out of this meat suit as soon as we are done with Amara. That’s our deal.”

“Then get back here when you are not Cass.”

“You’re in love with him?”

“No! Hell, no! I wouldn’t fall for Castiel,” you get so insulted, you actually manage to sit up straight and glare at Lucifer. “Not now, not ever!”

“Then what is the problem? This vessel can actually carry me around.”

“I liked your first vessel better,” you murmur, getting your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes. “It had something… Pure about it.”

“This one?” you feel the gentle touch of his hand on your head and, as you open your eyes, you can only see his previous vessel, smiling at you, biting his finger.

“What… What the hell did you do? Am I that drunk?”

“I connected the image of my first vessel to the personality you know, so now, no matter what vessel I possess, you will only see that one. Do you feel better about it now?” you slowly nod. “Good. I thought I would have to actually leave Cass and look for a somewhat similar vessel.”

“But Castiel…”

“Doesn’t mind me being in him, we even shut him out, so that he doesn’t see anything. I will leave soon, but for now I can use his body,” Lucifer rests his hand on your forehead, taking the drunkenness away, leaving you with the crystal clear mind. “Why did you get drunk in the first place? Definitely not because I was possessing Castiel. I used to possess Sam, and you didn’t get drunk than. Well, you tried, but you never got that upset.”

“No,” he keeps staring at you. “I’m not talking about it with you.”

“Uhm… Because it’s connected to me. Which means…” he grins, and you realize that he knows now. “You’ve actually fallen for me,” you blush so hard, he knows that he is right. “Despite me being the despicable Satan, you fell for me.”

“I did not!”

“Really? Then you totally wouldn’t be touched with the fact that I came here to find you and make sure you were ok with me staying with you?” he asks, smiling kindly at you, as you look away and pretend that your heart doesn’t rush. “And you would not care if I left now?” you flinch, and he leans forward. “And you don’t care at all that I can hear your heart rush? And you don’t want to actually look me in the eye instead of staring at this wonderful wall?” you turn your head, meeting his gaze. And freezing, as he whispers, slowly leaning closer and closer. “And you absolutely don’t care that I want to kiss you now?” your eyes widen, and you shake your head, then nod, then shrug your shoulders, as Lucifer raises his hand and strokes your cheek, brushing his finger against your lips. “So do you?”

“You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?” you ask, hardly swallowing, not trusting his quiet voice.

“Actually, yes. I am not honest,” he grins, as you go pale and look away, quite disappointed that you were right. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

“Then you should probably…” he doesn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“I unconditionally will kiss you, no matter what you try to say because I know that you want it, too,” before you can murmur something about his overconfidence, he grabs your face with both hands and pulls you closer, pressing his lips against yours, totally overtaking your free will. Or the desire to have it. He doesn’t hold you loosely, but you feel that in order to escape his hands you would really have to work on it. Before you know it, you kiss him back, putting your hands on his shoulders and sliding up his neck. You know (subconsciously) that you are kissing Castiel’s vessel, but it does look and smell like Lucifer. And it feels like 100% Satan material.


“Yes, you, Y/N,” he strokes your hair, with some kind, soft admiration in his eyes, as you bite your lip, trying to concentrate.


“If you keep biting your lip, Y/N, kissing will hurt,” he says seriously, and you docilely let go of your lip. “I’m listening.”

“Why are you here? I don’t get it. Why… If you wanted to sleep with me… You would find a better way, and you definitely wouldn’t get me sober again… Come on, you could also find a much more handsome person to kiss,” you look away, as he grabs your face, speaking slowly, getting the words deep into your brain.

“Because I wanted to kiss you. And you never let me even get close enough to you. Not until now. And I want to hold you close, to know that you are mine from head to toe, every single cell of yours. And I want to know that I am the only one allowed to touch every inch of your skin, know your every scar and curve, memorize every mole, kiss every part of you that you don’t admire until you give up…” you blush more and more, as his lips gently cover your face with light, soft kisses. “I want you to be mine. All of you.”

“But why?!”

“Because I love you, you little idiot.”

“You don’t.”

“Please, let’s not decide what I feel. I will win this argument without even trying.”

“But…” he rolls his eyes and kisses you again, this time much more passionately, overtaking the control and taking your breath away, slowly pushing you back on the pillow.

“No but’s. You are mine, and there will be no drunk guys next to you ever again. Is that clear?”

“Uhm… What if Dean gets drunk?”

“What if I snap his neck?” you laugh and nod. “I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t… For now.”

“We are clear, Lucifer.”

Hottie From Down Under

Anon asked:  Hey I love your blog😀 if you want to could you please write a fic where Trini is introduced to Zack’s friend (the reader) and she has a cute Australian accent? Thanks for considering

Oh god ok…I think I got this

@themorphinggrid @jxsonscott @zacktxylor


Ft. Brotp: Black and Yellow Bumblebee and Cupid!Zack

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