and i KNEW that i was going to forget the details if i waited for my hand to heal

9

*Denki voice* the only fast thing about those two is their speed during fights

anonymous asked:

I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?

I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.

When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.

When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.

I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.

Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.

Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.

What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.

They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.

So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.

My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.

They did this test every few months for a few years.

But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.

I was 15 when that started.

I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”

I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”

He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.

The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.

So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.

Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.

In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.

I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.

He laughed.

Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.

My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.

See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.

But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.

A few years later I had the other one done too.

My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.

But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.

And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.

If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.

I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.

So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.

How I ship Gency:

I like to think that Angela is a kind but very very tired soul that continues to push herself beyond her limits for the good of humanity. She’s constantly trying to improve medical science and works long hours to make it happen. She will sometimes go days without sleep on the job and forget to eat. Over the years, it has made her jaded - almost dead inside. But she does what she must.

One day, a body is rushed to her by Blackwatch all the way from Japan. She has never seen this man - or what’s left of him - before, but he’s obviously very important to Overwatch’s interests if he was rushed to her to be saved. So she begins the grueling process of breathing life back into his body. Thanks to the advances in medicine that she has pioneered, she is able to save the miraculous, weak heartbeat in him. Regardless, she still works for months slowly rebuilding him and salvaging any organic parts possible. All the while he is comatose.

The first time he awakens, he is disoriented, angry, and violent. Angela has to call for back up to restrain him so she can explain where he is, what has happened, and that he is safe. Gabriel Reyes enters during this time. Reyes doesn’t beat around the bush. He tells the man - Shimada Genji - that he was saved because they need his knowledge of the Shimada clan in order to dismantle it - that he will be instrumental in taking down his family business. Angela is horrified. She’d never been told to what end Overwatch needed this man - only that he held valuable information. She only guessed who or what he could be. Perhaps an important diplomat or undercover agent - but not an outsider. Not someone who would be in their debt for life. Her operations on him were costly. There was no way Overwatch would do that and expect nothing in return. Though they worked for the safety of the world - Angela knew they were not a charity.

She shoots a piercing glare in Reyes’ direction - saying silently, “This is NOT what I signed up for! We WILL talk about this later!” Reyes ignores her look. He waits for Shimada’s response. The man is silent. Thinking. After a pregnant pause, his gaze crawls up to their faces and a chill runs through Angela’s spine.

“I could be more than just information,” he says with seething rage boiling in his eyes. Reyes lifts an eyebrow. Angela can’t breathe. Shimada continues, “It would be my pleasure to assist in destroying my brother’s empire.” His lips curl at the word brother.

Reyes and Shimada exchange hard stares at one another. Reyes is the first to speak. “What are you asking, boy?”

“Let me personally assist on this project. On the field. I know more secrets than just the business of the empire - and how to exploit them. I am already a trained fighter with extensive experience in stealth and… Other fields of interest to your organization.” The menace in his gaze reveals that he speaks the truth.

Angela leaves abruptly. She doesn’t need to look at Reyes to know that he will accept Shimada’s offer. She is so very tired.

She assists in Shimada’s recovery. She fine-tunes his motor skills. She helps him learn to walk again. She helps familiarize him with his new functions… She refuses to comply with Blackwatch’s request to integrate weaponry into his cybernetic body. She hates weapons. She hates violence - it’s what stole her parents from her in the war. She has only ever killed in battle when absolutely necessary and in self-defense, and she has no intention of making instrument of death.

They confiscate her medical files on Shimada-san. She is told she will no longer be his overseeing doctor. She does not see him for a long time.

She cannot help but worry about him. She spent months caring for him in his most vulnerable state, yet here he is working for Blackwatch with cybernetic weapons and enhancements. His new armor covers his face. She has not seen it since the day he awoke.

Over the years, she occasionally hears of strides made in the Shimada Empire Project. Inside jobs. Sabotage. Assassinations. She always thinks of Shimada-san.

Then everything goes to hell.

With the Swiss headquarters razed to the ground and Overwatch outlawed by the PETRAS Act, Angela is alone and so very tired. Overwatch and Blackwatch agents have scattered across the Earth, she among them. Despite the weight of the world on her shoulders, she can’t help but wonder in the back of her mind what Shimada will do now. His rage and bitterness had driven his actions since the day he was revived. Where would he go with no organization or project? She worries.

A year passes. She receives a letter - a hand-written letter?? It’s covered with postage and forwarding stamps to multiple addresses. It is from Shimada. The contents are awkward with apologies and abundant with reluctance at even writing to her. He is apparently staying with the Shambali monks in Nepal under the teachings of Zenyatta Tekhartha. He writes that Zenyatta insisted that he begin writing letters to someone in his life as a part of his healing process. Healing process? He ends the letter with an apology for bothering her.

“Healing process”… Her heart warms at the thought. She writes him back, expressing that she is not bothered by his letters and informing him of her current mailing address for future ones.

For the next three years she looks forward to every letter. She is still overworked. Still trying to better the world. Still so very tired. But his letters remind her that working to help others heal is valid and worth the pain. His transformation is gradual, but evident. At first he is guarded - only sharing bare minimum details of his lessons. As they exchange letters, however, she begins to see his walls crumble as he shares more personal thoughts and feelings. He even starts to inject wry humor into his script. She doesn’t know for certain, and maybe it could never truly be this way, but Angela believes she is getting to meet the man from before the fight with his brother. He asks that she refer to him by his first name, Genji, so that he is not reminded of the name he shares with his brother, Hanzo.

Genji still refers to her as Miss Ziegler.

The Overwatch recall blindsides her, yet she travels to Gibraltar as soon as possible… She knows where she belongs. She writes Genji from Gibraltar informing him of her new address. She does not receive a reply. She worries.

One day, several weeks after the recall, a stranger covered from head to toe in intricately designed garments appears on their doorstep, an omnic companion in tow. Winston greets them hesitantly, Angela unconsciously stands slightly behind the gorilla. The stranger stares past Winston and into Angela’s face, saying nothing at first. Several moments pass. The omnic places a hand on the man’s shoulder, and he seems to relax a bit. He is hesitating. Why? Slowly, the man lifts his hands to undo the headdress covering his face, all the while keeping his gaze locked on Angela.

A moment more passes as he unties the cloth around his head. Then all at once the headdress is off, leaving his face naked.

Rich brown eyes meet hers, steadied with courage. Pale, old scars marble his face, crawling upward and across his cheeks, nose, and lips. His mechanical jaw clenches in apprehension. His black hair is plastered to his forehead from the headdress he’d been wearing not long ago.

Angela cannot breathe as she looks upon the face that she has not seen since the day she revived him.

Genji.

She is hugging him before she realizes what she’s doing. His arms hover over her back, shock evident in his face. Pulling back and wiping joyful tears from her eyes, she apologizes for surprising him.“But,” she adds with a wry smile “you surprised me first! So we are even.”

The shock in his eyes melts into something softer that she cannot name. He chuckles. “I suppose you are right, Miss Ziegler.”

She feels a prick of annoyance at his formality, but quickly squashes it. After all, she’s just heard him laugh for the first time. She smiles genuinely. “You seem well, Genji.”

What passes across his expression can be described as nothing other than the purest of inner tranquility. The corners of his lips upturn just slightly. His gaze is soft, unguarded as he looks into her eyes. The shadows of the violent rage that boiled in his soul so many years ago are nowhere to be found. “I am a different man now. I am whole.”

Her heart squeezes. Tears blur her vision and she cannot help grinning as the joy for him thrums throughout her body. “…That is wonderful!” she manages.

She is the furthest thing from tired.

Sometimes people need to heal before love can blossom. Falling in love is not the cure-all. But loving others, building those relationships through the thick of it all - that is one of the most important bonds you can ever have.

Deep Down (Bucky x Reader)

Hello ducklings, this is my entry for @bucky-plums-barnes writing challenge. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Prompt: 59. “And now we don’t have to compete with each other. We can focus on making you happy.”

Warnings: some angst, mostly fluff, a few swears, self-esteem issues

Word count: 2000


It was no easy task for you to be part of something as large as the Avengers.

The work was difficult and tiring.  You hardly got any more than five or six hours of sleep every day. You were pushed to the limits of your strength, both mental and physical, all the time, often resulting in painful injuries and even snide remarks from those around you. You were trusted with secrets that were able to kill, and information that could save millions of lives or destroy them.

But it was all worth it.

It was worth it when a smile lit up the face of a small child that you had just saved from a collapsing building. It was worth it to see the gratitude etched on the face of the elderly couple that you had protected with your own body from the enemy. It was worth it to see innocent people alive thanks to you.

Of course, there were other perks too. Such as peeking on the guys at the shower and seeing all those firm, muscular butts. Or the biceps. Or luscious locks. Or how the cybernetic arm looked, glistening with water droplets, the gears whirring quietly-

Okay, so maybe you were just peeking on one guy in particular. Big deal.

You couldn’t resist, really. James Buchanan Barnes looked so good that he made you drool. Not to mention that he had the personality of a thousand stars and could charm the socks off the most grumpy person in the galaxy.

But you knew that was all a cover. You knew that he was, in reality, lost and confused. Everyone threw their expectations at him without realizing it (you were such a charmer you were always the best in sports you always enjoyed gory stories you loved pranking people everyone loved you). You could see he was trying his best, but didn’t think it was enough.

Those thoughts whirled in your head as you sat in the Avengers conference room, pretending to listen to Steve discuss illegal weapon trade. You  tried to pay attention but you’ve heard all of it before, so it wasn’t long before your mind began to wander. That’s how you ended up looking at, and thinking about, Bucky Barnes.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts when you saw Bucky smirk and roll his eyes at you, showing that he’s equally not interested in the meeting. You grinned and made a face, propping your feet up on the table.

“-and so… are there any questions before we head off to the beach?”

You jumped and looked at Steve in confusion.

“The beach? We’re going to the beach?”

Steve gave you a funny look. “Yeah, I talked about it a few minutes ago. Were you not paying attention again?”

Blushing in embarrassment, you shook your head. Steve sighed.

During the repetition of the details, you found Bucky smirking at you again, blue eyes blinking in amusement. He shook his head, a grin gracing his lips.

In other words, this went just about as it usually did.

You were always distracted.

It was an hour before you were finally ready and packed. Slinging your beach bag over your shoulder, you started to head downstairs, but something intrigued you. Bucky’s door was ajar, like never before. Coming closer, you peeked through the opening and saw the man sitting on his bed, his head in his hands, still dressed in long clothes and nowhere near ready to go.

You knocked on the door softly, clearing your throat. Bucky looked up immediately, his wary eyes softening when he sees it’s you. He sighed deeply, looking down once again.

“Come in.”

Nodding, you walked in slowly, closing the door behind you, and sat beside the brunet. Glancing at him, you let a small, inviting smile grace your lips.

“You don’t look very excited for our little getaway…”

Bucky shrugged, bunching the hem of his shirt up and gripping it with his left arm.

“I’m not sure I’ll like it. The beach is… is a place for normal people. I will never fit in.”

Sadness swept over your eyes as you took in his words, your heart stuttering in sorrow.

“Why would you say this, Bucky?”

Bucky grunted in frustration, tearing his eyes away from his hands and looking at you. “Have you seen me? I look like something out of a horror movie! And God forbid that there would be any kids at the beach. This-” he pointed to his covered left arm, “-is terrifying. And my scars are even worse. No one would want to willingly look at me. What’s the point of me leaving the compound? I’d much rather stay. Down here, I can keep pretending I’m just a cocky asshole, the same as I was before the war. I’ve done enough harm as it is, no need to do any more by scaring people away.” He chuckled humourlessly and turned away even more. “Sorry. Forget I said any of this. You shouldn’t care, anyway. It doesn’t matter.” His back shuddered slightly.

Your breath got caught in your throat at his harsh, self-criticizing words, tears burning in your eyes. The worst thing was that you knew Bucky didn’t come up with all of this on his own. Someone had told him that, someone had made him think he was worthless.

It shattered your heart into millions of pieces.

Clearing your throat, you fought back the angry tears and moved closer to Bucky, prying his hands gently away from the material of his shirt, the fabric stretched so much that it looked to be seconds away from ripping. Kneeling in front of him, you looked into his dark, hurt and angry eyes.

Smoothing out your thumbs over the palms of his hands, you whispered, “hey. Don’t say this, Bucky. I don’t believe any of those things about you. You’re sweet, and kind, and funny. But even more so than this, you’re a good man. You think of others before you think of yourself. You wouldn’t even hesitate to give your life to protect other people.” A single tear slipped down your cheek. “And I do care. I care so fucking much about you, Bucky, that it hurts. It hurts to see you like this, it hurts to know that the man I love the most thinks he’s worthless, when in fact he’s exactly the opposite.”

You were too far gone to realize what you have just said, but Bucky reacted instantly. He jerked his hands away, his breathing ragged and his eyes wide, full of disbelief and hurt.

“W-why would you… I can’t… I don’t understand…” He tore at his hair, then went completely still as a thought came to him. “Why would you… laugh at me like this? You know how I feel about you… n-no need to shove it in my face, no need to make fun of it…”

You stared at him in shock and confusion. “What?” Soon, your eyes widened as your words came back to you. “No!”

Pushing yourself close to him, you looked him straight in the eyes. “James Buchanan Barnes, you need to stop doubting.” In a moment of confidence, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his.

Time seemed to slow down. You could feel every detail on Bucky’s lips, every small ridge and curve. Your entire body felt like it was melting, your eyes shut tight and your senses closed off to everything except Bucky.

After what seemed like hours of hesitation, you felt his arms wrap slowly around you, his lips molding perfectly into yours as he kissed you back. You felt electricity surge through your body, your mind going blank.

This was the most amazing feeling in the world.

It seemed like mere seconds before you pulled away. Your eyes searched Bucky’s, which were now soft and loving, and hopeful. You smiled, putting a hand on his cheek.

“I love you, Bucky. You’re perfect just the way you are. Your arm and your scars show that you have lived. That you’re a hero. You shouldn’t be ashamed, because you’re amazing just because you’re you.”

Bucky smiled bashfully, his cheeks a dark, rosy colour as he looked down at your hand which was still holding his. “Thank you, (Y/n)… I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so damn much…”

You smiled. Life was absolutely amazing, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“-and now we don’t have to compete with each other. We can focus on making you happy”, you say as you bandage Bucky’s right foot. “Not to mention that this was incredibly dumb. To think that you didn’t even wanna come here, yet here we are, with you injuring yourself because you were showing off. Amazing.”

Bucky grinned sheepishly, pushing his hair away from his eyes. “I just really wanted to show you that I’m better than you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s just volleyball, Buck! Which you can’t even play anymore until you’re properly healed up.”

The beach was amazing. Tony had taken all of you to Lumahai Beach, Kauai, Hawaii, a cleverly secluded and completely stunning stretch of beach along the North Shore. The team had lots of fun playing in the sand, swimming and messing around, all of which had culminated in a massive game of volleyball, with Tony, Rhodey, Natasha and you on one side, then Bucky, Wanda, Clint and Vision on the other. Sam sat this one out, busying himself with taking photos of Bucky in embarrassing positions to piss him off with later.

All was well, until Bucky made it clear that he wants to compete with you. Every time you served, he’d strike the ball with such force that your team didn’t have a chance. Every time you tried to hit the ball onto the other side, he’d wait just opposite you, hitting the ball over as soon as it crossed the net.

This went on until Bucky tried showing off to you and jumped too close to one of the poles holding up the net. He miscalculated the distance and his foot smashed into the hook on the side of the pole, resulting in a large and painful cut spreading over three quarters of his foot.

This is why you were currently sitting in the shade of the tress, Bucky in a beach chair as you disinfected and bandaged up his injured foot.

Standing up once again, you fixed your black bikini top as you nodded to his foot. “All done.”

Bucky grinned and folded his arms over his bare chest, still quite shy of being seen this exposed despite your words of encouragement. “Thanks, doll. You’re an angel.”

You nodded sarcastically. “Sure. Scoot your cute ass over, I wanna sit beside you.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you sit on my lap instead, (Y/n)?” He joked.

Smirking, you shrugged. “Why not?” Unceremoniously, you sat on his lap, crossing your legs over. You felt Bucky tense behind you and release a shaky, surprised breath.

“I… did not expect that.”

You laughed loudly and turned to him, tilting his chin up with your thumb. “Oh, you should get ready for much more to come.” When you kissed him, you could almost feel your heart jumping in a happy rhythm, even more so when Bucky kissed back with just as much passion as you.

The moment was cut short when something was dropped onto Bucky’s face. The brunet grunted, pulling away and picking up the object. It was a photograph.

A photograph of Bucky’s face when he injured himself, in fact, which closely resembled that of a terrified cat. Behind you, Sam laughed loudly in glee.

“Watch your back next time, Barnes!”

You laughed as Bucky rolled his eyes and swore under his breath.

In your eyes, Bucky was perfect just the way he was.

Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?
Ooh, heaven is a place on earth


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Of Wistful Dreams (Feysand)

In which Rhys dreams of his mother and sister and Feyre decides to do something about it. Angst with a healthy coating of fluff.

She saw them sometimes in his dreams, when the unbreakable bond between them wasn’t quite so easy to block. Feyre always knew that Rhys’ mother and sister must have been beautiful, but nothing in her imagination could have compared to what she saw in his mind. Where his father always seemed to be shrouded in menacing shadow (so different from Azriel’s, Feyre noted), the women of his family always seemed to bring light and laughter. In the best of Rhys’ dreams, his mother wore a wide, wicked grin so like his own that Feyre sometimes had to do a double take. His sister’s smile, on the other hand, was a much softer thing, but still no less bright. She followed devotedly after her brother, half-running until a younger Rhys would swoop down and lift her onto his shoulders. Their mother was never far behind, laughing with them both, the sound as clear to Feyre as if she had been there herself.

The dreams were wistful, wishful things that Feyre felt honored to share. But she also saw how they haunted her mate in his waking hours. He had grieved for his blood family for many years… but he also had never had the chance to truly heal from their deaths, their murders. How could he have? He was known as the most powerful High Lord in history, but too often did his subjects, did the entirety of Prythian, forget that there was a soul as fragile as any other hiding underneath all that power.

And then there were the nights where the dreams became twisted, the light turning red as blood began to fill both Rhys’ and Feyre’s visions. The bodies of his mother, of his little sister, were almost unrecognizable by the time Rhys had found them, torn apart, matching midnight hair utterly soaked with the sheer amount of blood spilled. 

Often, it was the last thing Rhys saw before he woke, pulling Feyre out of sleep with him.

Once, after a particularly grueling night, when Feyre had Rhys wrapped tightly in her arms – a vain attempt to protect him from the dreams that would do him harm – he had admitted to her that he was terrified that one day that image of their wrecked bodies would be the only thing he would remember of them both. That all those beautiful images, all those memories that kept them alive in his mind, would fade with time, leaving only blood and death and loneliness. 

Feyre hadn’t been able to find anything to say in response back then. The only thing she’d been able to do was hold him tighter and run her fingers through his midnight hair.

After weeks more of the dreams and nightmares both, however, an idea popped into her head in the form of a painting. Feyre knew what Rhys’ mother and sister looked like so well that she almost forgotten that there were no more physical reminders left of them – Rhys’ father had gone on a rampage at the loss of his mate, destroying all of her and their daughter’s possessions. Including what few images existed of them.

That very night, she began to put her plan in motion, wandering into the Rainbow to get what she needed. She spent the next few days gathering supplies, taking her time. Of all her past projects, none mattered so much as this one; she needed the perfect colors, she needed to do this right. 

Finally, she started. The process was painstakingly slow as she strived for perfection, but Feyre still found herself getting lost in the painting, in the vision of these women she wished she’d had the chance to meet.

The hardest part of the whole thing was keeping it from Rhys of course. Normally, he was such a big part of her art, always encouraging her, always ready to listen to her ramble on about it. But this time she would keep it secret.

“So what are you working on, my beautiful, wonderfully talented mate?” Rhys asked her, two weeks into her project. He rested warm hands on her waist, pressing his face into the bare skin of her neck. Thank the Cauldron Feyre had quick reflexes; she just barely managed to cover the painting in the darkness she’d received from him, blocking it completely from his view. An ironic twist of fate, that.

“You know flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere this time,” Feyre replied dryly. “You’ll find out soon enough. Patience.” 

Rhys nipped at her neck, sending very specific images through their bond. “Or perhaps I can convince you into giving up your little secret?”

“Scoundrel,” Feyre scoffed, even as she leaned back into his solid warmth.

His voice was a pleased rumble. “Always.” 

Needless to say she hadn’t got much more work done that day. But she also managed to keep the project from him a little longer, so she considered it a win regardless. (Though Rhys also won that round in a way, considering how much he enjoyed his convincing.)

And now… Now it was finally finished. And she could finally show him what had so occupied her time this past month. Feyre thought she should be happier about it, but she was only nervous, the feeling curdling in her stomach. For all that Rhys loved her paintings, she’d never done something like this for him before. What if the painting only made the grief worse for him? What if it became nothing more than another painful reminder?

It was too late to change course now, however. Not with Rhys already waiting by her side, staring at the cloth covered canvas in front of them. Feyre briefly considered leaving it covered up, but then Rhys put an encouraging hand on her elbow, his eyes gleaming at her knowingly. And so Feyre used her newfound courage to quickly pull the cloth away, before the temptation to run could not longer be pushed aside.

The revealed painting was met with nothing but all encompassing silence. The mating bond, normally so open between them, remained suspiciously cut off.

Feyre wondered what Rhys was thinking as he stared so intently at her latest creation. She knew what he was seeing – or hoped he was seeing. The painting depicted two utterly stunning women, standing hand-in-hand. The older and more striking of the two had her gorgeous, membranous wings spread out wide, a wild grin pulling at her lips, midnight hair spilling around her shoulders in glorious waves. Hazel eyes sparkled with mirth and love as she peered out of the painting, as if she was greeting a loved one finally coming home. By her side, her daughter looked gentler in comparison, standing perhaps half a head shorter than her mother despite being fully grown. Her own midnight hair had been meticulously braided – no doubt by her older brother – violet and pink and white flowers carefully woven in. She was meticulously dressed, but there was an undeniable hint of mischievousness in her purple-hued eyes. The hand that wasn’t intertwined with her mother’s was held out in front of her, reaching out – an invitation for the viewer to join them. The painting seemed to be backlit as well, as if the two women had just walked inside from a sunny day, giving the whole thing a bright and yet ethereal feel. Or so Feyre hoped.

Eventually, she dared to glance up at Rhys, finding an expression of pained wonder on his face. He looked infinitely sad… and yet there was a quality of peace about him as well, as if it healed something in him, to have this reminder of what he’d lost so long ago. Feyre felt her heart crack at the sight and couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to him, tangling their hands together until they almost mirrored the painting in front of them.

“I know you’re afraid you’ll forget about them one day, forget what they look like,” Feyre finally said, breaking the heavy silence. Her stomach still curdled with her nerves and she fiddled with the cloth of her dress as she looked at her mate. “I thought perhaps this might help.” 

Rhys said nothing for a long moment, though his fingers tightened around hers. He lifted his free hand to the painting, first tracing the strong curve of his mother’s wings and then trailing his thumb down the length of his sister’s braid.

“They were so beautiful,” he whispered, the bond once again opening between them until he was showering her with image after image of the family he lost.

Feyre leaned into his side. “They were. They didn’t deserve their ending”

“No, they didn’t.” The grief that came with those simple words was immense and ancient.

Feyre ached for Rhys, ached for his pain. She regretted the painting for a brief moment (had she only caused him more pain?), but Rhys could not tear his eyes from it. He stared at it almost hungrily, memorizing each stroke, each color, each detail until Feyre was sure he could recreate the picture perfectly in his mind. The peace that she had sensed before seemed to settle once more, blanketing over his pain, giving him the kind of comfort he’d craved for centuries. And Feyre knew, without a doubt, that she’d done the right thing.

I didn’t want your last image of them to be of their broken bodies, she whispered in his mind as he continued to stare at her work.

Rhys swallowed roughly, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. He lifted his head up to the sky first, overcome with emotion, before he finally turned his gaze to Feyre, the depth of it pinning her in place.

“You are a wonder, Feyre darling,” he told her, quietly serious. 

“I knew that already,” she said with a teasing little smile, before allowing it to fade into something gentler. She touched the edge of his jaw. “But so are you, Rhys. And they would think so too. They would proud of what you accomplished here, but most of all of you are. Of that I have no doubt.” 

Rhys turned fully to her then, leaning his forehead against hers, his eyes still shining with emotion even as he looked at their linked hands. “Thank you,” he said. 

“You’re welcome,” Feyre replied, really meaning it. 

Rhys smiled at her, a small smile that reminded her not of his mother but rather of the little sister that had loved him so. Feyre smiled back at him with all the love in her, before rising to the tips of her toes and softly kissing the edge of his mouth. Her mate buried his head in her shoulder and crushed her to him, his arms steel bands around her waist. But Feyre hardly noticed as she ran soothing fingers through his hair, holding him just as tight. 

“I think we should find them a place of honor, don’t you?” Rhys said as he finally pulled away from her embrace, minutes or hours later.

“I know just the place.”

They hung the painting in the sitting room, where it could be bathed in the light of the garden beyond. It was lovely, peaceful spot that so many of their friends – their new family – passed by on their visits to the town house.

And underneath it, they later added a tiny silver placard, with only two words engraved in Rhys’ elegant script. 

Never forgotten.

After Hours

Word Count: 885

A/N: rarely seeing Flip’s sensitive side in the movie made me wanna write about him being vulnerable and looking for comfort so here it is. this is my first fic, but I’m hoping to write more about Adam driver and his characters 

Warnings: just lots of fluff and very light mention of racism 

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it before,” Flip mused aloud. His Jewish heritage never proved a problem to him before, but his work undercover with the Ku Klux Klan had made it impossible to forget. Flip celebrated Christmas and never had a Bat Mitzvah, and he justified his ignorance on the fact that he was raised as a “white” kid.

It wasn’t until Ron Stallworth joined the precinct that he had to confront his feelings on racism and the discrimination against his faith that he never paid mind; Flip wasn’t racist but he sure as hell never spoke out on civil rights. The Klan changed all of that though, and one particularly bad encounter left him shaken.

Keep reading

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part V)

Part V – “But we’re still sleeping like we’re lovers”

Twenty-six

I stood there, transfixed by the overwhelming feeling of her in my arms, unbelievingly real against the paleness of my tired memories. I didn’t know what had happened to her – clearly something had happened – but was only glad I had found her, right in the moment when my arms seemed to be so needed to hold her.

“Will ye tell me?” I murmured against her hair – fragrant like a freshly squeezed lemon, like a garden after pouring rain -, my hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. “What happened?”

“I will.” She tilted her chin, allowing our eyes to meet – hers were dry but glassy, as if her body was wrecked with fever. “I want to tell you.”

“Good.” I attempted a calming smile, but felt the muscles of my face stiff from concern. “Do ye want to sit down?”

“We can’t talk here.” Claire told me, finally stepping back, away from the comfort of my body – I felt the loss of her warmth as acutely as I would miss a limb. Phantom pain, permanent and excruciating, constructed by the mind to deal with unbearable loss. “This is Geillis place – she is a close friend – and she’ll be arriving shortly from work. I thought she had forgotten her keys when you knocked.”

“Ye can come to my house.” I offered, almost biting my tongue in eagerness. The image of Claire in my home - the tips of her fingers brushing the book spines in the shelf, her lips drinking from one of my glasses - a kiss shared through the marks we’d both leave there – made my heart swell to the point of bursting. “I mean, we can have a conversation there without being disturbed or interrupted.” I babbled, struggling to explain myself over a bout of flushing cheeks.

“Alright.” She nodded in agreement – trusting me implicitly. Naturally. “Let me just feed Adso and grab my coat.” The feline meowed in agreement and rubbed against Claire’s legs, sleek and charming, as if he had been waiting to be acknowledged.

We made our way through the pleasant streets of Edinburgh, headed towards my house, located just a few blocks away. We traded some words, but were mostly immersed in our thoughts – preparing what we would say and do, when we finally could expose ourselves in a safe haven. As we walked, we didn’t touch – not even our arms bumped into each other, in that casual way of shared movement. We were both consciously avoiding to touch, keeping a safe distance, even if acutely aware of each other.

“It isna a big house.” I apologized in a jumbled way as we entered my apartment, collecting unmatched socks and forgotten papers along the way.

“I love it!” Claire smiled in a reassuring way, admiring the big flat screen and black speakers. Her butterscotch eyes covered my pictures and books, the quilt thrown over the back of the sofa, the magazines and pamphlets I had sorted inside a little basket next to the bookcase. “I can tell you live here – it’s warm and alive. It’s a real home.”

I grinned in content – almost purring in satisfaction -, as she took off her coat. She wandered around, touching objects with a respectful hand and clicking her tongue in appreciation of my book collection. Eventually she talked again, her back turned to me.

“Where is your bedroom?” She asked in a rough voice, unhinged – and then, predicting my puzzlement, she added in a low and hesitant tone, as if talking to herself. “I haven’t been sleeping much – I didn’t want to close my eyes and let my mind roam freely. I can barely stand on my feet, to be honest. Besides,” Claire turned and glanced at me, fumbling again with her sleeves. “I think it would be easier to talk if we touched.”

“Aye.” I breathed deeply, walking towards my room. “Whatever ye need.”

I watched as she laid down on my bed, above the plaid that meant home to me – taking off her boots and socks in the process. Her movements were slow and calculated, as if she wished to cause minimal impact with her presence, so that I would carry on with my life after her departure. Claire rolled to her side, curled like an unborn child, safe and peaceful in the womb.

I came around the bed and managed to lay down – silent and precise as a thief in the night -, leaving an empty space between us, as I faced her. She seemed tired beyond her years and utterly broken.

Without a word she slid her hand to the middle of the bed, where I could reach out and touch it – I did so, softly playing with her fingers until she relaxed and our hands were entwined.

“Why are ye here?” I asked, my voice husky. Her face was a duality of shadows and bursts of light, coming from the window to dance on her features. “In Scotland?”

“I had to come.” Claire adjusted her face on the pillow, caressing the nail of my thumb with her fingers, her golden wedding ring cold like a fetch between us. “I couldn’t be in Boston right now – I needed time to think. This is the one place that has been home to me.”

“Are ye still married?” I risked, watching in anguish as she winced in pain. She sighed – but the movements of my hand in hers seemed to calm her enough to go on.

“Separated.” She licked her quivering bottom lip, avoiding my eyes. “It turns out Frank wasn’t the man I thought he was.  He wanted to own me.” Claire pursed her lips in anger. “And when he couldn’t own me, I wasn’t enough. Everyday became a war between us. A long and tiresome war.”

I gulped, taking in the shrapnel of her destruction. With a swift movement of my spare hand, I rolled up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing bruises the colour of mustard and moss, screaming against her marble white skin – marks of resentful fingers, forceful enough to break vessels and spirits. A lonely tear streamed down her cheek.

“He hurt ye!” I hissed furiously between clenched teeth, fighting the urge to maim the husband who had so recklessly broke the vow to protect her – to love her. She needed my restraint and I could offer it to her – not another display of bad temper by a man she had trusted. I hesitantly touched the bruises, wishing to erase them with kisses, to heal them with the adoration I would bestow upon her.

“I hurt him back.” Claire assured me, a look of shame crossing her face – as if I could pay witness to the degradations inflicted by both during their marriage. “He didn’t want me to leave. Frank said he still loves me.”

“Does he?” I asked with gentleness, battling the urge to ask her if she still loved him.

“I don’t know.” The tear track on her face glistened like a dry river, leaving thirst in its wake. “His love didn’t hurt like this, before.”

I wanted to ask her details on her failed marriage – her unhappiness was patent and unbearable – but restrained myself. She must have spent hours replaying the film of her derailed life, echoing words meant to harm – there was no cure to be found in saying them once more. I wished only to placate her pain – to take it all into myself, if I could. I longed to be the bringer of her smiles and not of her tears.

“I called ye.” I suddenly revealed, half embarrassed. “I waited too long – ye were gone by then. Maybe if I did…things would have been different.”

“Perhaps.” Claire agreed, haltingly. “But you were right – I shouldn’t have settled for less.”

I risked to brush her hair – silky and curly, so elementally Claire that took my breath away – and she closed her eyes in enjoyment of the intimate touch.

“What will ye do?” I asked, so afraid of the answer I could die. I wished for nothing more than to have her in my bed, lying so close to me as I memorized her, for the rest of my days. And yet I knew I had no guarantee of intimacy, of another conversation, of another touch – I savoured them all as a gift, for they were precious and not promised.

“I have to go back to Boston.” Claire explained, gripping my hand with strength. “I have a life there – a nursing job, medical school, friends and - .” She stopped, her eyes wide open.

Frank.” I swallowed hard, fighting against myself to offer her an encouraging smile. “Ye are still married to him.”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, almost sobbing. I brought her hand closer to my mouth and kissed her knuckles.

“I won’t tell ye what to do – that is for ye to decide, mo nighean donn. But I need ye to know something, Claire.” I touched her chin with tenderness, urging her to open her eyes. “Ye alone hold all my heart – even before I knew yer name, ye meant light to me. I’ll wait for ye my whole live – and gladly so, even if it means that I’ll watch ye from afar, happy and fulfilled with another man, worthy of ye.”

“Jamie, I – “ Claire started, but I kissed her hand again and brought her against my chest, where my heart kept pounding, speaking enough to silence her.

“I’d rather ye dinna make promises ye may not wish to keep afterwards, when yer heart is less sore. When – if - ye mean them, I’ll be here.” I pleaded, staring into her eyes – she held my gaze for a while and nodded back. “Rest now, mo nighean donn. Let me watch over ye as ye sleep. Let me see ye safe.”

“I’m always safe with you.” She whispered.

I cherished her and held her hand until she fell asleep – finding new reasons to love her while she dreamt. She felt safe and protected with me – and, for that moment, it was enough.

Even when night came and we were left in complete darkness, I listened to her breathing, absorbing the symphony of the lover I craved. Once in a while I closed my eyes, making sure I could remember her perfectly – opening them again to correct a small detail, to drink another drop of her, afraid I would forget. Tormented I wouldn’t.

In the wee hours of night, I fought against sleep. I felt raw and tender, heart and body aching, calling me irresistibly to slumber.

I must have surrendered at some point. I had the vague recollection of a chaste kiss against my lips – timid, yet burning.

In the morning, she was gone.

Popular | Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Avenger!Reader

Prompt: Tony has made a bet to see who could end up with the most fans, out of the Avengers, by the end of the month. Bucky takes it just to piss Sam off and Reader really wants to prove that she isn’t the least popular. Bucky and Reader team up to be a fake couple in order to beat the other Avengers, agreeing to split the prize at the end. Will it all work out?

A/N: The second part out in probably record time! I’m very thankful for the positive reception so far so hopefully, I don’t let you guys down. Thank you all again so much for reading. 

Warnings: Not approved by Captain Rogers’ Potty Mouth Prevention Unit

Series Masterlist

Originally posted by flyngdream

Media’s Attention

“When was the last time you went on a date, Barnes?” You hissed. You and Bucky walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand. When Bucky told you his great idea for a first ‘date’, you were convinced he had it down to the very last detail. Dates, wardrobe, lines. Like it was some sort of reality TV show.

Right now, he was nervous. He tried to keep a cool face, but he was holding onto your hand a bit too tightly.

“A successful date or just date in general?” Bucky asked. You wanted to facepalm so badly, but you didn’t want to make him feel worse. Pretending was fun as children, but now it just felt like work. Fake smiling for this long already had your cheeks starting to hurt. It didn’t help that every time Bucky whispered in your ear, you had to force out an appropriate giggle. Half the stuff he said were bad jokes that made you want to groan, and the other half was trying to stay sane while proceeding with the mission.

As fake as you felt, the plan was clearly working. You knew that more than just a few people have taken snapshots of you two strolling down the busy boulevards of Manhattan all cute and couple-like. Not to mention the whispers on the street. The city’s street lamps weren’t the best lighting, but you were certain that the city lights reflecting on your long dress would be a great cover for US Weekly.

Your date didn’t look bad either. He was less Bucky and more James Buchanan Barnes. His hair was neatly tied and combed back, with a full tux and everything. “It’s gonna be okay.” You go to wrap your arm around his and lean in closer.

You cup your hands around Bucky’s ear. “I bet by this time tomorrow we’ll be on the front page of every tabloid.”

He let out a small rumble of laughter. Sometime about the sound made you want to smile as well. It was strange seeing him so happy, even if it wasn’t really genuine. You felt the tension leave his arm and the stiffness disappears from his walk.

“I know being carefree isn’t exactly your thing, but if it makes it easier just think about how great it’ll feel to win the contest,” you suggest. Bucky looks over to you with a smile and a sly twinkle in his eye. You were starting to see what all the ladies in the forties must have been chattering about. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“For one, gotta give the people some good angles,” Bucky said. You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped his chest. “Two, you have a leaf in your hair.”

Your hands dropped his, flying to your hair to comb it through. Lo and behold, a single ivy green leaf got caught by your fingers. “You didn’t think to tell me this before the lenses started clicking?” Your face blossomed in pink.

Bucky chuckled again, only to take you by the shoulders and turn you around. “We’re here.” This must have been the playful side of Bucky you always heard Steve reminiscing about. You stared at the name of the restaurant Bucky brought you to. “Bucky, this is like a three star Michelin restaurant. How did you-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bucky held your hand and led you in. “I have my ways, doll, but I think you’re blocking the entrance.” You turned behind to see a small line of people all dressed in silks and formal wear impatiently tapping their leather shoes. “I may have done a lot of research on the computer. Having a billionaire’s worth of knowledge and stuff doesn’t hurt either.”

“Why did you pick this place anyway? Not that it isn’t amazing, but I think this venue is a bit upscale and stuffy for both our liking,” you said.

A single glance around the place and you already felt like a fake. Giant crystal chandeliers hung over each table, which itself was decorated in gleaming white cloth and golden embellishments. Each chair sat someone who looked of high society and money. “And now I feel ever faker than before,” you mutter.

Bucky didn’t seem phased, instead putting his arm around you and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Following the waiter, you were escorted to a semi-private table for two.

“Did I pick the perfect spot or what?” Bucky gloated.

“I’ll say, it’s going to be so easy to spy on us. Even more so than whenever Steve tries to leave with just a baseball hat on,” you observe.

“That hat trick worked more than a few times, I’ll have you know,” Bucky informed you as-a-matter-of-fact-ly. “But that’s not why this spot is so great. Look over there.” He tilted his head toward another table. There sat a bunch of people in white shirts, ties, and some sort of ID hanging from their necks. Cameras and similar equipment were scattered on chairs and the tables around the area as well.

“Journalists?” You gasp.

“Not just any old journalists. Rumor has it that every year the best of the news world meet here to plan out their award ceremonies and whatnot.” Bucky said. “And what a coincidence that we’re right in their field of view.”

You look away to gape at Bucky. He wore a proud smirk on his lips. “Bucky Barnes, you are a genius.”

“Nah,” he reaches across the table for your hand. You gladly take it. “Just what any old guy who wants to win a bet would do.”

“Trust me, you may be old but you’re not just any guy,” you muse. He looked up at you in surprise and a few mixed emotions, but you were already flipping through the menu and gawking at the kinds of food and their prices. “Jeez Bucky, I hope you managed to find the end of a rainbow in time because I can’t pay for this with my salary.”

“I feel like you’re starting to doubt my abilities to pull this off,” Bucky said. The two of you continued to laugh and joke around until the waiter came by again.

He looked up from his notepad, eyes widened. For a few seconds, his eyes went from Bucky to you to him again. You and Bucky shared a knowing look. “P-pardon me Madame, what would you like to order?”

Bucky gave you a final nod, signaling for you to get the snowball rolling. “It looks like you caught us!” You held your hands up jokingly. “Yes, it is I, H/N with Bucky Barnes. Don’t worry, we’re not here on a mission,” you say loudly. Already, a few people turned to look, including the table of journalists.

“What an honor, Miss H/N, m-might I offer you a list of our specials?” The waiter started to stammer.

“Certainly.”

As the wait staff walked away, you and Bucky couldn’t help but burst into small fits of laughter. “My goodness, do you think the entire restaurant heard?” You ask between breaths.

“I’m almost positive they did. You seem to have a natural talent for ruining the classy ambiance with your loud voice. Not that it isn’t charming,” Bucky winked.

You two continued the conversation, ever so slowly inching towards one another. It wasn’t long before your face was right in front of his. You stared into his blue eyes, as mischievous as ever. Bucky glanced to the left once. Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, he came even closer. “Are they watching?”

You try to sneakily glance at the reporters’ table as well. “Almost for certain, yeah,” you said. In an instant, he pressed into you lips first. You sucked in a breath, nearly forgetting to kiss back. It was quick, sweet, and eye-catching. You hoped you were correct in hearing a camera shutter go off. Pulling away, Bucky seemed breathless. He continued to look at you in that strange way. Not exactly romantic or infatuated. More like…genuine amusement.

“Well, Mr. Barnes?” You raise your eyebrows at him. He looked confused. “How would you say our first kiss went?”

He groaned, making you laugh. “Don’t get cocky on me now.”

“No promises,” you shrug. “Don’t look now, but I think our plan is being executed quite smoothly. Journalist coming in on your left.”

You both turned and saw a woman in a red skirt with a pen and paper in her hands. She stopped right in front of your table with an excited smile. “How are you? Janet Howards, Entertainment Weekly. It is such an honor to meet you both.” She shook both of your hands firmly. “My colleagues and I couldn’t help but notice you guys. Mind if we ask some questions?”

Without even looking, you knew that Bucky was beaming. “Of course not, although we’d like to keep it low-profile,” you lied. You and Janet Howards both knew that this was going to blow up by the end of the day.

The quickfire questions came a bit faster than you had thought they would, although you and Bucky still answered like you practiced. Were you really dating? Any plans for the future? What warranted such a special night out? Do any of the other Avengers know about your romance? The questions were handled like clockwork. You remembered to look at Bucky with a fond gaze every now and then, which he gladly returned.

The answers were simple. After a lot of reality-tv binge watching with Bucky and YouTube searches about celebrity couple interviews, the whole media industry became as predictable as snow in the mountains. You gave every ounce of juicy ‘gossip’ over, from a secret romance to helping each other heal to hiding it all away from the public eye until now.

Janet bit her lip, trying to contain the excitement as she furiously scribbled down every last detail you and Bucky fed to her. There were a lot of “you guys are so great together"s and “sorry if this is too personal, but"s. The entire act felt just like that. An act. A beautifully rehearsed, made-to-sell act.

As Janet finally left you two alone, you let out a deep breath. "So, how do you think it went?”

“You were perfect, doll,” Bucky complimented.

“Not so bad yourself, Buck,” you smile back. As the two of you finished your meals and walked back to the car, still holding hands, you couldn’t help but marvel and how smoothly tonight went. “You know, tonight was a lot easier than I thought it would be, thanks to you.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. He opened the car door for you.

You sat inside and finally let yourself relax into the chair. “Well, I guess this fake dating thing couldn’t have possibly worked out well with just anyone. I guess I’m trying to say that I’m glad you’re my fake boyfriend.”

Bucky laughed again. Unlike on the streets or in the restaurant, this felt real. “And you’re the best fake girlfriend I could have asked for.” A bit hesitantly, he kissed you on the forehead. You smiled and stared out the passenger window. Even though the entire night felt plastic, the wind in your hair and Bucky’s lingering kiss made you feel a little more alright.


Taglist: @agentsinstorybrooke @msiilpl  @just—love @rimuslymoony @mackenziesgalaxy @4babez @max-tro @221bbands @satansknittingclub @cassandras-musings @undiscl0sed-desir3s @aqueenwithoutherkingx @jigglology @starkxpotts  @teenwolflover28 @debzybrazy

Give me a Chance? ( Brett Talbot x reader )

your pov :

(Flashback)

***** “What do you mean you are pregnant?! ” I bit my lip.

“Brett, I’m carrying your child” I spoke slowly. “well… I.. Are you sure its mine?” is he serious?!

“of course, it’s yours! ” how could he? “are you accusing me of cheating, Talbot?! ” I hissed gritting my teeth.

“I don’t want it” he looked at me.

“we are not even dating anyway” he added casually. Sure we weren’t dating, it was a mistake but how could he be like this.

“First of all, its a baby not ‘it’, second we don’t fucking need you asshole! ” I left him for good. No way in hell I’m killing my baby. *******

(Present time)

It was exactly after four years after that. High school was over. Everyone went in their separated over. Some joining their dream university, some still looking for jobs, luckily I had a decent job and a apartment of my own for me and my son, Axel Talbot. Yeah as much I hate it, Brett is still his father so I gave him his last name. I didn’t see him after our conversation that night.

I had my friends who supported me. My friends were with me all the time till Axel was born. Axel is my everything. I never regretted for disobeying Brett. Axel has the exact blue eyes like his father, reminding me of Brett everyday making it harder for me to forget him.

It was Saturday so you went to park with a hyper Axel running around. “Axel, honey please be careful ” you watched him with furrowed brows in concern. He may be tiny but he is handful. “Mommy look! ” he exclaimed pointing the swings. You smiled at him.

It was close to noon so you decided to leave. “Axel! ” you called out to him as he was playing in the jungle gym. “

Axel, come on sweetie, its time to leave ” you cooed at the child.

“play more ” he pouted.

“Later, I promise ” you picked him up.

Checking the aisle for cereals you kept walking down pushing the shopping cart with little Axel trailing behind you.

You looked down to see Axel tugging your sleeve, “mommy… ”

“yeah sweetie? ” you said still holding the cart.

“There is man looking at you, calling me” he spoke in his soft voice. You instantly switched to your mother mode letting grip on your cart go. Holding Axel’s hand you searched for the ’ supposed to be creepy stalker ’.

Your eyes landed on a tall frame. Never in a million years you expected to see him. Brett Talbot. When he same you caught him looking at you, his eyes widend.

“y/n is that really you? ” he walked closer to you. “Its really you ” he let out a chuckle as his blue eyes met your (y/e/c) ones.It was like he was memorizing every single detail. You looked the same, still gorgeous. No one will believe you his you tell them you have a kid. You just stood there not knowing how to respond.

“Mommy, who is this? ” Axel’s voice broke down the uncomfortable silence. “an old friend ” you spoke in monotone. Brett’s eyes landed on the tiny frame next to you gripping your hands.

“Is that… Is he….? ” he trailed off.

“Hey buddy…. ” he crouched down at Axel’s level “What’s your name? ” he smiled at the kid. Axel looked up to you waiting for your response whether he can talk to this stranger.

“why are you even talking to me?! ” you hissed trying hard not to tell at Brett.

“y/n, calm down okay ” he stretched his arms to hold your shoulder, your glare stopped him.

“He is my son, isn’t he? ” he asked mostly like he already knew the truth. “what makes you think that? How do you even know he is yours?” you spat remembering his words clearly when you told him you were pregnant with his baby.

He sighed. “y/n, I know I was a complete asshole to you ” he started but interrupted by Axel’s giggle “mommy, he said a naughty word ”.

He smiled at the giggling child while you glared at him. “I know I treated you like cra–” he stopped himself glancing at Axel.

“Look I know how I treated you was terrible ” you cut him off.

“You don’t say! ” you sassed.

He ran his fingers through his hair sighing. “Axel,let’s go” you turned away from Brett.

“Y/N, WAIT! ” he grabbed your hand. You stopped at his touch, it wasn’t demanding and forcing. Gentle yet making you stop. “can we talk, please? ” he pleaded.

“Fine ” I crossed my arms.

“Talk” I looked at him.

“y/n, I was a teenager, I was so stupid, letting you go and leave you alone with the baby is the worst decision I ever made, I.. uh.. ” he glanced at your son, pausing.

“y/n, I need you in my life, I need my son in my life…. ” he looked at you with his blue eyes.

“wow Brett, you left me, you left us now you magically appear out of nowhere and you want to be in our life? Do you know how hard it was to answer him when he asks "why I don’t have a daddy? ” “where is my daddy? ’ or watch him seeing other kids playing with their dads?! ” you yelled/let out your anger.

“I Know no words can heal what I did to you ” I grabbed your hands. “Let me fix it, for you, for our son ” he gazed your eyes for your reaction. “Just give me a chance, one chance to make it better, for our son? "he dropped to his knees hugging your waist. Your felt your chest pound against your rib cage.

"Brett” you put your arms around his neck. “Brett, now get up, everyone is looking ” you said looking around few people who is enjoying the show. “I don’t care they saw” he got up. You sighed.

“Does that mean..? ” his lips curved upwards. “Only for our son” you can’t speak anymore cause he lifted you up making you squeak.

“Mommy, who is this? ” Axel asked with his adorable baby smile.

“Axel, sweetie, this is your daddy” you said to him smiling. Brett put you down, raising Axel from the ground, he spun him making Axel giggle.

Brett spent the rest if the day with you and playing with Axel patiently responding to ever questions Axel asked. After putting Axel to bed, you turned around to meet face to face with Brett.

“I missed you” He smiled pulling you closer. “Don’t get your hopes high, Talbot ” you warned him rolling your eyes.

“You are here as Axel’s father not my boyfriend ” you walked past him, smiling hoping he didn’t see that.

“we will see about that” he grinned.

Hell's Angels (M)

*because I’m extra*

Request: #36 Namjoon Drabble 

Word Count: 8.1k

Originally posted by rapnamu

A pitch black darkness that preceded after a spatter of red clouded in his vision. The world around him felt cold and heavy. His limbs lost its feeling as if he had phantom limb syndrome. The smell of gunpowder dusted itself over his noses and the loud bang of a bomb going off jolted him awake, his eyes opening.

“It took you long enough.”

“W–Where am I?” It looked like an abandoned mall, glass storefronts broken, the escalator stopped working and there were small patches of fire in some places. There was a boy, maybe three years younger than he was, firing from this range and shooting down people.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was trapped in a video game.

“The dead zone.”

“Dead zone?”

“For a new recruit, you sure do ask a lot of questions but do little action.”

Keep reading

[Don’t Wanna Cry Series] Seungcheol ver.

Prompt: Don’t Wanna Cry - Seungcheol
Genre: slight fluff, angst
Word count: 818
Warnings: None!

A/N: New drabble up! So basically (y/n)’s job here is a figure skater in case some of you don’t know! This drabble might be a little lengthy? But I hope you guys like it anyway!

-jihooned 😶

[DWC SERIES]
S.Coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | The8 | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino |

Originally posted by performanceunit


Seungcheol gasped in amazement as he watched you execute a perfect double axel. Landing steadily on your left foot, you proceeded to complete your routine with ease. As you made your way to the side of the rink where he was waiting, Seungcheol’s smile grew wider. You made your way into his arms as he pulled you in for a nice, warm hug.

“How are you still so energetic even after that routine?” He chuckled.

You simply shrugged your shoulders and grinned, “excessive training I guess.”

Seungcheol locked his gaze with yours before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

How could someone be so perfect? He wondered.


You deserved better. Seungcheol knew that, even before he dated you. It had been a year since he asked you out, and till this day, he wonders what you saw in him.

A figure skating champion, straight As student, a great chef, you had it all.

But him? Nothing much. He may be a well known idol, but seeing the hate comments you got when your relationship was announced made him feel like a terrible boyfriend. There were more comments in favour of your relationship, but still, he didn’t want you be involved in such negative things.

However, you always shrugged it off as something you had to deal with if you wanted to get into a relationship with such a widely loved idol.

Seungcheol felt even more guilty hearing that.


“(y/n), I think we need to end our relationship. My company isn’t exactly happy about it, neither are some of my members. And it’ll be better for our fans too. You should go see someone better, someone who can love you and treat you better than me.”

It broke his heart into a million pieces when he said that. But there was no other way to break it to you that you deserved better.

You held back a sob. “I really thought, we had everything planned out.”

Seungcheol looked away, he didn’t want to see you cry, and he didn’t want you to see him cry either.

“But I guess,” you continued, voice already beginning to crack, “if it’s for the best then, I guess it’s okay.”


Keep reading

i never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Yo waddup, I’m Lib and I never fucking learned time management. 

Anyways, happy birthday to @ninoirs. Rey, you’re tiny, but you’ve officially left the legion of babies in the QML server and you will be missed. The only good news today is that you’re still tiny, so I can always fall back on that. 

You’re hella fun to chill with sometimes, and even more fun to salt with. Here’s to life treating you good as you continue muddling through it. 

I also posted this on AO3 because tumblr is shit and it’s easier to keep track on AO3. 


There’s a distinct memory in my mind of you that I never seem to let go.

I don’t remember if it was June or July or August, but it was summer. We laid in your room, just two teenagers attempting to stave off the heat with help of the cold ground. Your hair was spread along your head, and your hand trailed the air above you. I looked over at you, at the reflection of the sun in your eyes, and I realized, with a jolt that sent my heart running, that your eyes were blue.

It’s not that I hadn’t noticed them before; I had, it was impossible not to. But there was something suddenly alert in me, something that sent my heart racing and hands sweating from something other than the heat.

The skies danced in my vision, and you turned towards me with a laugh and a joke you’d remembered. There’d been a smile on my face as I watched you, and your hands fell onto your stomach. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, my shirt felt too tight, and sweat glided down my forehead, making me feel gross.

But you were with me, giggling, your fingers making contact with my nose before falling away.

And in that moment, Marinette, I fell in love with you.

Keep reading

Run... Run and Never Look Back

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: @amanda-teaches-Ok, I just spent 10 minutes trying to think of a request because I know you’re bored and I want to be helpful. I’m coming up blank. How about a Dean x Reader where the reader is being held by demons and Dean gets thrown in the cell with her. They meet/bond/escape together/whatever. Is that any good at all?

Warnings: Language, angst, blood, violence, fluff.

Word Count: 1,383 

A/N: Well I hope you like this. Honestly the endings a hot mess but I tried. As always feedback’s welcome and enjoy

Originally posted by winsmut

Branches lashed out at your face. Your lungs were burning and your muscles quivered from fatigue. You couldn’t stop, you had managed to escape but that didn’t mean you were free. The demons that had been your captors for the past week were hot on your trail and if they caught you, you would never see the light of day again. Digging deep, you ran even harder. Your body was weak and your strength was beginning to fail. Stumbling, you fell to the ground. The impact was jarring but you forced yourself to get up. Brushing yourself off you looked around. Trees stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. You were lost and you had no idea if you were running in the right direction.

Keep reading

Pretty Lies - Part Six

Genre: Angst

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven

Word Count: 2,528

Summary: You knew the truth, but still clung onto the pretty lies he told you.


Namjoon nervously tugged on his face mask, tipping his hat lower as his name was called by the barista. He swiftly crossed over to the counter, accepting the drinks with a soft ‘thank you’. 

With the drinks in hand, he made his way back to the table you and him were occupying, taking in the sight of your whole face bathed in the evening sunlight. Your eyes were focused on the sunset, completely unaware of Namjoon’s eyes on you. He let out a soft breath at how you could look so perfect without putting any effort in. 

“Here you go,” Namjoon cheerfully murmured, passing over your favorite drink. You snapped out of your trance and gave him a meek smile, taking the drink from his hands. Namjoon resisted the urge to reach out and hold your hands, letting you pull away. “You’ve been spacing out a lot. You okay? Should we go back to your apartment?”

Your eyes lit up in panic, head snapping side to side to signal your answer. Namjoon held his hands up in a mock surrender, trying to ease the panicked look on your face. 

“Sorry… It’s just… There’s too many memories there. I needed a change of scenery,” you confessed as your eyes glossed over again, probably thinking of the memories that happened in your apartment. It did explain why you wanted to suddenly go to a complete new place for coffee. The two of you always frequented the same place because of the trustworthy staff that always reserved a booth off to the side so the boys wouldn’t have to wear their face masks for once.

Namjoon nodded slowly, understanding that the pain was still fresh. It had only been a couple days after Jungkook and you had broken up and it was evident that you hadn’t been sleeping much. The dark circles that seemed to drag down your eyes told stories of sleepless nights and your bare face spoke volumes about how tired and apathetic you were feeling. You usually never left the house without at least applying on some mascara and concealer, not that you needed any of it. But now you didn’t feel like you needed to impress anyone.

“Have you been sleeping at all?” Your eyes briefly darted up to look at Namjoon as your hands fiddled with your mug of coffee. After a long pause, your eyes moved to look outside the window. 

“Not much,” you admitted, biting your bottom lip. “The bed seems too empty now. I spend most of the night either tossing and turning or looking out the window. He’s always on my mind though.”

It was exactly what Namjoon expected. The pain was fresh for you and you were still grieving the loss of the boy you had loved for so long. Namjoon had expected it all and yet his heart still ached hearing it. “How’s he doing?”

You knew you shouldn’t ask, but the question had been gnawing away at you ever since Namjoon came to meet up with you. You had ignored all the messages and calls from Jungkook in the past few days, knowing that if you answered you would completely forgive him for everything. Even if you never answered, your mind still pondered over how he was doing; whether he was as torn up as you were, if he wasn’t sleeping well like you were, if he wasn’t eating as much like you were. It was like the whole world had lost its vibrant colors. 

“He didn’t come out at all on the first day. Jin was so worried but everyone knew he needed some space. They were pissed about what he did, but they understand that he’s hurting.” Namjoon wouldn’t lie or hold back any information from you, he knew that you needed some closure and that you wanted to see if he was hurting as much as you were. “The past few days have been better though. He’s eating and practicing like normal. As far as I know, he seems like he’s getting better.”

You sucked in a short breath before rigidly nodding your head. What were you expecting? For Jungkook to chase after you forever? It would explain why you hadn’t gotten any messages from him at all today. Maybe he was really getting over you. 

“That’s good,” you forced out, quickly taking a gulp of your drink to busy yourself, burning your tongue in the process. 

“You don’t have to pretend, Y/N. You love him still, everyone knows.” Namjoon casted his gaze to the table, avoiding your eyes. He knew you still loved Jungkook, but he had hoped that you would notice him a little. 

You stayed silent, having no retort for the true statement. As much as you wished you could just get over him, it didn’t just happen instantly. It took time and giving yourself a chance to heal to get over someone. 

“Yeah, but it won’t always be like this. One day, I’ll wake up and realize that I can live without him. One day, the memories of him will dim and my heart won’t ache at the mention of his name,” you promised, fingers tightening around the mug. “One day, I will be able to meet him in person and feel nothing.”

Namjoon beamed at you. Although you didn’t sound very confident, it was a start. 


As the song came to a close, Jungkook panted heavily, picking up his water bottle to re-hydrate himself. While dancing was a good distraction, it couldn’t keep his mind off of you forever. He didn’t want to work himself to death, but it was good being able to escape reality for a few minutes. 

The door swung open and Jungkook’s head snapped up at the sound. Areum stood at the doorway, dressed in her dance clothes and carrying her bag for dance. 

Her eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook, mouth forming a silent ‘oh’. Jungkook averted his eyes, shame instantly coursing through his body at her presence. He had been ignoring her texts ever since the night the both of them had slept together. Just seeing her made his skin crawl at how he could have betrayed you like that. 

“I didn’t realize you’d still be here. The secretary said you came in three hours ago and he didn’t know if you left or not. You know that dancing for too long will just give you cramps,” she chastised gently, grabbing her towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. Jungkook flinched away as soon as he spotted her movement, breath hitching. Her hands paused, slowly drawing back. “Oh. Sorry, I just thought-”

“You knew I had a girlfriend. Why didn’t you stop it?” Jungkook snarled, eyes shut in anger as memories of the night came flooding back. “If you had just spoken up-”

“Don’t put all the blame on me, Jungkook,” Areum hissed coldly, advancing towards him. “You never shot down my advances. Long before that night you had been indulging my fantasies towards you. Not once did you ever tell me to back off. What happened was both of our responsibilities.” 

Jungkook knew that, but being able to put the blame on someone else made it seem better to him. If he pretended that it wasn’t really his fault, maybe you’d eventually see it too and take him back. “Listen, I’m sorry that we got Y/N involved but I won’t say that I regret what happened.”

“My relationship with Y/N is ruined and you don’t regret anything? Are you kidding me?” Jungkook let out a bark of sarcastic laughter, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t. I love you, Jungkook.” His eyes flitted over to Areum’s, shocked at her confession. She was right, he didn’t remember that part at all. For him, he probably only remembered the night in small sections. For her, she remembered every little detail. 

“Areum…” Jungkook trailed off, face falling at her confession, at a total loss for what to say. 

“Don’t,” Areum cut him off. She knew she probably looked pathetic to him, a trainee that had grown attached to her mentor. “Just listen to me. I know you think Y/N is the one for you, but we clicked too! Don’t you remember that at all? All those practices and ice cream runs we went on? You can’t say you didn’t feel anything at all!”

Jungkook pressed his lips together, eyes filled with pity towards her. She hated it. “You know we had something going on! We still do! You and Y/N are over, can’t you just give me a chance?” 

“Areum, you don’t understand. Y/N and I… we have something special. What we had was… It just wasn’t the same as what I have with Y/N.” Areum’s lower lip trembled as Jungkook continued on. “I’m sorry that I led you on, but I think it’s best if we just forget this happened.”

She was going to lose him completely now. He’d never want to see her again after this, she had to do something. Her mind raced for an answer, for something to keep Jungkook by her side. Jungkook started to rise from his spot, grabbing his belongings and heading for the door. 

“Wait!” Areum cried out, grasping Jungkook’s arm and pulling him back. “There’s something that I haven’t been honest about. I didn’t want to mention it since you seem to think very highly of Y/N and I hoped that you would get over her.”

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, shrugging her hands off of him. While he didn’t look very amused, he remained in his spot, no longer trying to exit the room. “I’m not a woman to steal a man that is taken unless I have good reason to. The only reason I thought to even try to win you over was because Y/N likes someone else.”

“Really, Areum? I know you’re desperate but making up lies isn’t going to save you-”

“Just listen! Maybe you haven’t noticed it, but I have. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Y/N likes Namjoon and I’m willing to bet he likes her too.” Jungkook was about to brush her off until she mentioned Namjoon. His hyung wouldn’t like Y/N, they were just friends, right? “Don’t you find it weird how close they are? Doesn’t it seem like sometimes she’s dating Namjoon and not you? I bet he’s the one ‘comforting’ her right now and I know she isn’t complaining about that. For all you know, she’s probably all over you and probably has already moved onto Namjoon.”

“Y/N loves me, she wouldn’t move on so quickly and she certainly wouldn’t date my hyung,” Jungkook growled lowly, fists clenching. 

“Oh? Then how come she hasn’t answered any of your texts? If she loved you, wouldn’t you two be back together already? Wouldn’t you be with her right now and not here practicing? Call him right now, I bet he’s with her.” Jungkook knew he should’ve just ignored what Areum was saying and leave. He knew it, but he still found his hands reaching into his pockets for his phone. Areum gave him a devilish smirk as Jungkook dialed Namjoon’s number. 

‘Hyung doesn’t like Y/N, he would’ve said something to me. The two of them are just best friends, that’s all,’ Jungkook tried to convince himself, heart pounding as the call continued to ring. His eyes never left Areum, even when the call finally connected.

“Hello?” Namjoon’s voice answered, sounding slightly out of breath. Jungkook let out a soft sigh of relief, it sounded like Namjoon was alone, probably out running an errand. Jungkook scowled at Areum, her face still confident and glimmering with mischief. 

“Oh sorry, hyung. I just wanted to know where you were since you aren’t at the dorm,” Jungkook lied, scolding himself for even entertaining Areum’s crazy accusations. He trusted Namjoon like no other, knowing he always had his back. 

“I’m just out getting some fresh air, the studio was starting to become suffocating,” Namjoon chuckled. It was Jungkook’s turn to smirk at Areum.

“Alright, hyung. Then I guess I’ll see you later! Bye!” Just as Jungkook was about to hang up, another voice butted in.

“Ya! Kim Namjoon, get back here! Don’t think you can get away with stealing my phone!” Jungkook’s heart stopped at the sound of your voice, even though it was faint and muffled, it sounded so full of life and laughter as you chased after Namjoon. The call ended and Areum’s smile only grew at the shell-shocked look on Jungkook’s face.

“What did I say? Why would I lie to you, Jungkook? I was being honest, I love you and I would never intentionally hurt you,” Areum cooed, immediately switching from her condescending act to her nurturing one. If she played her cards right, she could still get Jungkook to love her. 

“Y/N… Y/N isn’t like that, she wouldn’t…” Jungkook stammered, looking so lost and confused at the sudden realization that something could happen between Y/N and his hyung. 

It started to click; the night that he had met you Namjoon had been too excited. He had kept making such corny jokes and his face would soften every time you laughed at them. All those times that Jungkook would notice Namjoon just staring off and never connected that he was watching you. How had Jungkook never noticed until now?

Namjoon was in love with you.

Jungkook didn’t know if you shared those feelings too, but with the recent break up, you were vulnerable. 

“I was just trying to protect you from the truth, Jungkook. I didn’t want you to resent your hyung and make things hard for your group. I thought that if I could get you to move on from Y/N, you wouldn’t care when Namjoon swept in to win her over,” Areum lied, mind working furiously to produce more lies and weave a believable story. She gently placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, satisfied when he didn’t move at all. Her hand slid down his arm, holding his hand. 

“I never knew he loved her…” Jungkook murmured, staring off into space as Areum slithered closer to him, giving him a tight hug. 

“It’s okay, it’s better this way. This is how things are meant to be, Namjoon with Y/N and you with me. I can make you forget all about her,” Areum smiled, eyes trained on his lips. Her hands moved up his chest to his chin, drawing his face closer to hers. 

Jungkook didn’t pull away at all, mind still processing how he had missed Namjoon’s love for you. Areum’s eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her face to meet Jungkook’s, lips connecting. 

She smirked when he didn’t pull away, taking it as incentive to advance further. One of her eyes slid open as one of her free hands brought up her phone. Areum put more passion into the kiss as the camera app opened, lining it up so her phone had a perfect view of Jungkook and her. Her eyes closed again as her phone took photos of the two of them. Everything was working out perfectly according to plan. 

‘You’re mine now, Jungkook.’


a/n: kind of a filler for the next chapter, sorry that i haven’t been updating as much! i’m kind of bouncing around and hoping to update my series and rotating between them. still trying to get this new one out too that i really like so please look out for that!

The Visitor

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: After saving you in a hunt, enamored by your strength and wit, Sam visits you on a regular basis. Over the years those visits have gotten progressively steamier. ;)

Word Count: ~2,100

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral (both), sex, NSFW gifs

A/N: Sorry for the absence, but I’m back with some new writing prompts! But as always, my ask is open for requests, to be added to tags, thoughts, feedback, or if you just want to say hi :). I might make this a series, let me know if you’d like that!

Originally posted by findyourownhappyending

He always looked for you every time he turned on to your long, winding driveway. It was a habit formed from excitement and anticipation. Sam Winchester could not get to you fast enough.

Sam’s been driving through the woods for hours, and hasn’t seen a person for miles.

Good, he thinks as he parks his car. The safer y/n is here, the better.

His eyes dart immediately for the large bay window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Partially because he can’t wait to see you, but also because it reassures him that you’re alive. The smile spreads across his face when he sees you looking out the window back at him.

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I accidentally gave this a super cheesy ending and I’m 100% not sorry enjoy!

Some days Jesse really didn’t mind her job. She never could quite say she loved it, even on the good days, but there were certainly times when she really didn’t think the whole hero-adventurer thing wasn’t so bad; sometimes you could even call it fun. Today was not one of those days.

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RIDE ME  [BTS JUNGKOOK]pt.13

bts member : jungkook x reader

Genre: angst /smut

rated mature :  but not in all the chapters

summary : if you want to and if you don’t want to, things are bound to happen and you broke the rules and run away only to find your self in a lion’s Den , jungkook a man who has every thing; power wealth and fame all together to burn your heart and existence if you moved away, in a land full of horses what could happen between both of you ,two young persons who meant to share the same dream  !

one | two | three | four |five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten [ eleven | twelve 


Originally posted by kookmint



“i love you too ” you let out softly looking into jungkook eyes lips still swollen , you felt your heart pounding hard as you looked into his eyes jungkook slowly

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FRENEMIES
         - PART III

(Part I) - (Part II)

Kai Parker x Reader
word count : 2 374 
*not my gif 
_______________________

Kai chased after her , down the stairs catching up with her at the building’s door wrapping his hands around her waist from behind , slightly lifting her off the ground as she kicked playfully in the air , listening to her laugh. He laughed too , there was no way to fight it - her laugh made him laugh. For the first time in a long while , he had felt happy.
“Gotcha.” he laughed , pulling her closer to him for a second before letting her go. Y/N pushed the building’s door and ran outside.
“Come and get me!” she called out to him laughing , stopping suddenly at the sight in front of her. “OH GOD!” she screamed barely a few seconds later.
Kai was waiting a minute giving her a headstart before following her closely behind but her scream caught him off guard and he vamp-ran after her , soon finding out what had made her scream.
A few hundred meters away from them stood Bonnie Bennett and Damon Salvatore , holding the Ascendant. Y/N turned towards Kai , his expression changing from anger to sadness in seconds. He wrapped his arms around her protectively.
He knew at some point her friends might change their minds and come to get her out but … Of all the times they could’ve come to to get her , it had to be now… ?! Just when finally things were starting to work out… just when he finally had someone to care for and someone who cared for him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” she whispered loud enough for him to hear.
Damon and Bonnie walked towards them , reaching for Y/N’s hands and trying to pull her away from Kai. He tightened his grip around her waist.
“Lets go Y/N. By now you should’ve learned your lesson..” Damon said gripping her hand trying to pull her away from Kai again.
“No. I’m not going anywhere with you.” Y/N said , her voice sounding confident. “It might not have been my decision to come here , but it’s my decision to stay.”
Damon let out a small laugh glancing at Bonnie , who raised her hand and used her magic to push Kai away from Y/N. He flew backwards a few meters , recovering fast and vamp - running towards Y/N just as Bonnie twisted her wrist , breaking Kai’s leg.
“Stop it!” Y/N screamed and ran towards Kai , but Damon grabbed her by the waist pulling her back towards Bonnie. “Let me go , Damon!” she said , but he didn’t seem to care. She reached into her pocket where she had put Kai’s pocket knife earlier and stabbed Damon in the leg, making a deep cut. He didn’t expect it and let go of her long enough for Y/N to reach Kai who had curled up into a ball on the ground as Bonnie kept breaking his bones.
“Please , Bonnie!” she pleaded tears in her eyes. “Please , stop !”
“Why do you care what happens to Kai ? Has he brainwashed you ? You are coming home with us. Now.” Damon snapped , taking a step towards her , but Bonnie put a hand out stopping him. His approach wasn’t working and she wanted to try something else. She stopped the spell breaking Kai’s bones and took a step towards Y/N.
“This is my home , Damon. I want to stay and you do not get a say in this.” Y/N stood on her feet , helping Kai get up. His bones healed quickly and he launched for Damon , Y/N’s grip on his wrist stopping him.
“What do you mean this is your home ? This is not your home. Your home is back in Mystic Falls , the real Mystic Falls with your friends and your brother , who by the way is worried sick about your well being.” Bonnie said calmly.
Y/N scoffed , that was one of the biggest lies to ever come out of Bonnie’s lips. There it was again - her friends thinking of her ‘well being’. There had to be a catch for their visit…
“You are lying. My brother doesn’t give a damn about me , he never has.” she said. “Or did you forget the real reason why I lost my magic ?”
Kai looked confused between Bonnie and Y/N. He knew she had lost her magic when a warlock had taken it away, but she clearly had left out a detail or two not telling him the whole story and slowly he started piecing things together.
“What do you mean the real reason ? Who … ?” Kai asked.
Y/N sighed , intertwining their fingers together. When she had gotten there , it had felt like a new start of sorts , she wanted to forget so many things … but now it was time for her to tell Kai a few things she had left out.
“The warlock who took my magic … was my brother.” she said turning towards Kai, “He claims he did it to protect me , then ditched me for the next few years and apparently he crawled back into town all ‘concerned’ about me.”
Her eyes had started watering at the memory.It had been years ago a little after Klaus had rolled into town to break the sun and the moon curse. Klaus had offered her a place as one of his witches , no catch no nothing .. all because he had taken a liking to her. When her brother had found out , he cast a spell taking her magic away. Not long after that he had left , no goodbye just a note on the kitchen table. Even without her magic , Klaus had accepted her and she had become friends with the Mikaelsons. They understood what it was like to be screwed up by your own family.
Kai stroked her cheek for a moment before pulling her into a hug , not carring for a second there were other people present… He wanted to protect her now more than ever. No wonder she had gone looking for him. Y/N was betrayed by her own family , no one knew better than him how it feels when your family treats your like trash. She wrapped her hands around him , closing her eyes for a moment.
Damon and Bonnie glanced at each other , none of them having a clue what was actually happening. Kai was being so nice to her and whatever lies he had told her , she seemed to believe them… except they had no idea Kai actually cared about her and had never really lied to her.
“What have you done to her , twirp ?” Damon demanded.
“Not much.” Kai said , carefully picking his words. Now was not the time for honesty. “Y/N is brave … loyal , caring and loving. She deserves better than you two and apparently is better off here with me than back in the real world with you where his own family hurt her and you did nothing about it. I’d never hurt her. This might sound unbelievable to you but … I do care about her.”
Damon snorted and Bonnie looked at them as if someone had just punched her in the face. None of them were willing to believe him. After all this time they still saw the person who had killed his own family at his sister’s wedding , forgetting all the good things he had done for them - siphoning the spell covering Mystic Falls allowing them to go home , nearly dying trying to get Bonnie out of 1994 and then helping them in 1903 Prison World to get Damon’s mother back so Stefan can flip his humanity switch and get Caroline to flip back hers.
“The only way you will get me to leave with you is only if Kai comes too. Other ways - go to Hell , both of you.” Y/N said , holding onto Kai’s hand tightly.
Yes , Kai might’ve spent half of their time together causing her pain in  multiple ways but she wasn’t going to let him stay there all alone. Kai wasn’t bad , he was just trying to live up all the awful expectations people had about him. He had spent two whole weeks , not screwing up once. He had refused to feed on her and basically she had had to force him to earlier that day.  That had to count for something. He cared about her… and she cared about him. If none of her friends were willing to give him a chance , she was.
“We are not letting him out.” Bonnie said. “We came for you , Y/N and we are not living without you.”
“Well , good luck with that. I am staying.” Y/N said.
“Hey what do you think happens if one of them dies here ?” Kai asked her raising his hand. “Technically they are guests , the rules don’t apply to them do they? ” Damon wrapped his hands around his heck trying to get free , but it was useless - you can’t fight magic… Kai raised his other hand lifting Bonnie and sending her SMACK against the nearest building.
Y/N grabbed his wrist , “Kai , let them go. This is not helping.”
“I’m going to kill you.” Damon managed to say. “Permanently this time.”
It took Kai a few moments before he reluctantly let them go. He met Y/N’s eyes and something in them made him stop. Damon wooshed between them , pushing them apart , his hand on Kai’s throat the other punching a hole through his chest wrapping around his heart. Bonnie pulled Y/N towards her with magic not giving a damn about her protests.
Kai managed a spell , causing Damon to drop on the ground screaming in pain holding his hand in his hands. A flick of his wrist later the Ascendant went flying in the air a few hundred meters away from Bonnie breaking her concentration and letting Y/N free. She ran into his arms and he took a few steps back towards the building. Damon tried to get to them again but hit an invisible wall.
“Oops. Who didn’t see that one coming ?” Kai chuckled. “I told you before. I care about her. She is rubbing off on me , changing me. Other ways both of you would be dead by now and the Ascendant would be in my hands , getting me and her out of here…”  He took another step towards Damon , only the boundary separating them. “She doesn’t want to go with you , do you sweetheart?”
Y/N shook her head. “No.”
“Believe it or not I am changing…” Kai said. “Y/N is the reason why and unless she wants to leave , I am not letting her go. Unlike you , I plan on taking her wishes in consideration.”
“Proove it.” Bonnie said interrupting him. “I’ll lift the spell protecting her from permanently dying , you have a month. If when we come back , Y/N is alive and unharmed … you get to leave this place.”
“Bonnie ! Have you lost your mind ?! We can’t -” Damon said but got interrupted.
“A month?” Kai asked suspiciously. “Whats the catch?”
“There is no catch. Either she will live or she’ll die. If you care so much about her as you claim , shouldn’t be a problem.” Bonnie said glancing at Y/N , “Your choice , remember? You can still leave with us , but if you stay … whatever happens to you will be his fault.”
Kai shifted nervously on his feet, something wasn’t right there and he didn’t want to find out what by screwing up.
“Go with them.” he said , letting go of her. “You’ll be safer that way.”
Y/N looked at him confused. After all the fighting , saying he would take her wishes in consideration he was willing to let her go ?
“What ? No , Malachai. I am staying.I trust you…”
“Leave or I will make you leave.” he said , the purple/black veins under his eyes flashing for a few seconds.
Y/N cupped his face. “I trust you. I TRUST you… Only way I will leave this place is with you by my side.”
Kai grabbed her wrists squeezing them tight enough to cause her pain , pushing her hands away from his face. He wanted her to leave because he didn’t trust himself. The thought of her dying and her death being his fault was breaking him inside. He kept waiting for her to flinch in pain , for her gaze to drop and to say she is leaving. She never did.
“I trust you…” she mouthed and he let go of her wrists with a sigh.
“See you in a month then , Bon Bon.” Kai said as Bonnie pulled Damon away. He kept protesting that leaving Y/N with Kai was like as if they had killed her , but Bonnie wouldn’t listen. She just kept dragging him to the spot where they had arrived.
“Trust me , Damon.”
Damon and Bonnie turned one more time towards Y/N and Kai , seeing Kai stroking her cheek before leaning in to kiss her forehead.
“Ugh … I think they’ve fallen in love with each other.” Damon muttered to Bonnie with a look of disgust on his face.
Kai glanced at him , he had heard his words… Could Damon be right ? Kai hadn’t been in love before … He looked at Y/N , her eyes glowing and she hadn’t taken them off him the entire time. She took his hand and as soon as Damon and Bonnie disappeared , pulled him towards the park. No way she’d let her old friends destroy that moment she had with Kai.

                                * * * (back in the real world) * * *

“How could you leave her there with Kai?!  You of all people should know better what he is capable of!” Damon screamed at her. Bonnie however remained infuriatingly calm.
“You really think I’d leave her there unprotected ?” she said calmly. “I put something a little extra in the spell protecting her… When Kai loses his temper again , which he will at some point , and kills her  .. the spell will transport her here.”
Damon sighed in relief. “I could kiss you right now.”
“Havent you learned by now ? You should never underestimate a Bennett.”
“Great job, Bon Bon…because if we are to get the Mikaelson’s help , we will need Y/N on our side. Caroline’s thing with Klaus won’t be enough this time… You know how he feels about Y/N.”

_____________________

MASTERLIST March / April 2017

MASTERLIST MAY 2017
_____________________

Penny For a Cup- Part 8

Masterlist Here!
Part One Here
Part Two Here
Part Three Here
Part Four Here
Part Five Here
Part Six Here
Part Seven Here

Pairing: Sam x Reader
Characters: Sam, Reader, Alisha, mention of reader’s brother Noah
Warnings: fluff, light swearing, businessman!Sam, barista!reader, coffee shop AU, a little angst
Summary: The reader owns a little coffee shop in New York city called, The Manhattan Mocha, and Sam Winchester is a frequent costumer of hers. She’s always had a slight crush on the sharp business man who comes in for coffee everyday, and has even memorized his order: black coffee, double shot of expresso- intriguing and mysterious just as he is.
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I’m writing a bunch so more parts of some of my other series will be up as well:) Thanks for sticking by me, guys<3 
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The rest of your date with Sam was spent bouncing from ride to ride and in a constant state of laughter. The day wound to a close when the two of you rode the ferris wheel. Sitting crammed together in the tiny cart, you and him went around and around until you stopped at the very top, and the view was breathtaking. 

From where you were positioned, you could see the entire fair and a lot of the park beyond as well. Being as it was later in the day, there were fewer dots of people decorating the ground, but what really caught your eye was the skyline. Being as you’d grown up in a small, rural town, New York City’s skyline never ceased to amaze you, but something about that specific view was special.

The sun had started to set just as the two of you reached the top, and rays of purple, orange and pink painted the fair below and the buildings in the distance as well. A few seconds after you’d gotten to the highest point, he’d kissed you. It wasn’t unexpected, and it didn’t take you by surprise, but something was different about it. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was until the two of you pulled apart, and you realized it was like the first time all over again.

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anonymous asked:

Jafar, Sinbad, and Vittel scenario where their wife is giving birth to twins The wife is angry and tells them, "you're never touching me again! "

Ja´far

“Just keep breathing my heart you are doing great.”

Ja´far waited for this moment for nine.long.months. And today is the day: His twins will be finally delivered.He was prepared for this moment thanks to months of planning and paying attention to everything- except for one tiny detail.

“Really? I didn´t know that I should do that! And here I am, thinking to stop breathing. WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?! STUPID?!”

He forget the sarcastic and hostile side of his wife when she is in pain. Great Ja´far.

Just.Great.

“You can say whatever you want to. Just…let it out?” Damn, how did Rurumu gave birth to Kikiriku !? He could have sworn that his mother didn´t seem to be in any pain.

“Just keep pushing an-”

“Oh I will push my fist up your incompetent ass if you say what I am obviously doing!”

The poor medic could only gulped audibly after that. And yet, Ja´far seemed unfazed by it. That was the love of his life. She never looked so strong and even if she was cursing like a sailor or crying like a waterfall, Ja´far would never stop the feeling of love and pride that he was now feeling for her.

“Love, just -”

“Oh you little*********! I swear you are never touching me again, you perfect stupid jerk!”

Ja´far was only able to smile slightly at her attempt to threaten him. No way in hell will he let his hands off of her: She was giving birth to their twins. His twins.

Sinbad

“My Queen, it should be coming any moment now. You are doing great, just focus on your breath-”

A pain filled scream interupted the instruction of Yamraiha. The Queen was breathing heavily, covered in sweat and a few tears were rolling down her soft cheeks. Sinbad, who was sitting next to his wife was holding her hand tightly and looked ike he was near the tears himself. “Yam said that you are doing great love. just try to calm down.I am here for you,just…breath normally.”

His hand was nearly crushed by the hold of his wife, yet his whole focus lay on her health. Magicians with healing abilities were in and out of the kings chamber, waiting for the final push.

“OHHHHHH SOOLOOMONNN!!!!!”

“Oh my..! I can see the first ones head!”

“YOU ARE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN SINBAD!”

“OK ONE MORE PUSH MY QUEEN!”

“You know, you should focus on getting them out of you; not on something getting in.”

“SIIINNNNNNBBBBAAAAAAAAAADDD!!!”

Vittel

´ What should I do, what should I do? ` Vittel was standing next to his wife, holding her hand in his in a hope to take away her pain. She was in labor for six hours now and her screams and her vulnerable state felt like knives to his heart. He knew that it was painful for her and on top it, twins? she need to ge through this pain twice as hard.

“I- We can do this. I will stay by your side till we hold our babies,ok? So…don´t worry, we will go through this together.”

His wife could only spare a weak glimpse in his side and began pushing again. He was trying to act normal, collected for the sake of both of them. Sweaping away the cold sweat of her shaking body, pressing light kisses on her temple whenever her lower lip starts to tremble and trying to keep in the pain of her deathly grip on his now broken hand.

“Vittel, you *argh* you are- you are never touching me again!”

Huh funny how she was able to think that he could touch anything, yet alone her, with a broken hand.

Well, he still has the other one.