but yeah it went on for like a week before he finally got sick of it and ripped all of them off


Word Count: 1600 ish

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: The reader finds out that she’s pregnant and has to find a way to tell Sam.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy. Brief mention of depression (like, literally one sentence). Angst. I think that’s all, but forgive me if it’s not.

A/N: Yes, I know that this is quite a common trope, but I just couldn’t help myself :) Enjoy my rendition of Sam finding out that you’re pregnant!


It was hard to put into words how you had felt for the past few weeks. Extreme fatigue and nausea had been keeping you sidelined from hunting for too long now. You felt off, almost as if there was something that was completely changed within you.

Of course Sam and Dean picked up on your behavior change. After being their roommates and hunting partners for almost three years now, they were used to your normal and abnormal mannerisms. Dean never vocalized it to you, but he thought you were experiencing side effects of depression. You never ruled that out - after all of the horrors you had seen, you were sure that it was a possibility.

Sam on the other hand, was very vocal about his thoughts that you were physically sick. He had seen you at your rock-bottom worst, and he thought that this time it was different.

The relationship you had with Dean was brotherly. You teased one another, fought one another, but ultimately, loved each other unconditionally. He was family to you.

In contrast to Dean, Sam was not so brotherly. You felt a spark when you were around Sam - you had never felt so loved when Sam was around. The way he would pull you in for an embrace kiss the top of your head was more emotionally charged than just a friend would do.

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anonymous asked:

Hi, do you write prompts right now? If you do, could you write for your Ecstasy is All You Need sex during pregnancy? something like Emma is pregnant and Killian is really scared he'll hurt her... or you know... :) thank you so much, your writing is awesome

so, uh, turns out that this kind of a thing for me…

pardon if it comes off as rusty, why bother warming up after taking a few weeks off from writing when you can just jump into the deep end without a life preserver?

(and thank you as ever to my partner in crime Tina for rescuing me from my own misery while writing and actually making sex happen here)

She leaned against the wall, arms resting loosely over her still-small belly as she watched him read on the couch. Theirs was a (mostly) quiet house, the only active TV up in Henry’s room and Henry spending a lot of his time at Regina’s these days. (Apparently they were, in his words, ‘nauseating’ and with how much Emma herself had actually been nauseated recently, she didn’t blame him in the least for hightailing it out of there.) Sometimes she binged on HGTV with her feet up on Killian’s lap while he read, but there was something nice about a quiet house after a long day of breaking up shouting matches between dwarves.

Though, there was also something nice about disturbing the peace as well. And there had definitely been a distinct lack of disturbing the peace as of late.

Something she was damn well determined to fix tonight.

Emma licked her lips, letting her baser instincts take over as she pushed off the wall. There was an extra sway in her hips as she stalked around the couch, a coy tilt to her head as she slid her fingers down the page of his book to get his attention. She watched as his lips twitched, his eyes following the line of her fingers up her arm and finally to her face. “Hello, darling.”

“Hey, sailor,” she replied, her voice husky. “Mind if I come aboard?”

Killian’s eyebrows went up; he seemed a bit awestruck as she dog-eared the page and closed the book, tossing it onto the coffee table behind her just before straddling his legs. His hand and brace went immediately to her hips and just that little bit of pressure, that little bit of warmth, sent her hormones spiraling. Emma cupped his face, her thumbs tracing the apples of his cheeks, and captured his lips in a kiss.

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A Girl Called Mike - Part 2

Originally posted by highwaytosupernatural

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Word Count: About 3500

Summary: The reader disguises herself during hunting jobs as a man named Mike and has met up with the Winchesters several times. They are unaware of her true identity. Feeling they know and trust Mike, they agree to invite the reader to the bunker.

Click Here for Part 1

Warnings: Language, Violence

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions! 

Special thanks to @misguidedconqueress for the suggestions, feedback and for putting up with me! :)


“Listen, there’s something I feel like I should tell you.” You started and paused, the next words not coming out of your mouth. “This place is sick. You bring all the babes down here?” You raved, keeping up the demeanor.

“Not quite, only a few close friends know about it. We keep it pretty private.” Sam stated.

“Ah, too bad, I could totally see a pole right here.” You showed them between the war room and the library, kicking yourself mentally for taking it too far.

Dean hit Sam’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Not a bad idea.” He agreed with a chuckle.

“Respectfully so.” You cleared your throat. “So, uh, for the Vodnik, I can go through any of these books?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll help you out.” Sam responded.

“No, I don’t want to be a burden.” You said.

“It’s okay, he gets off on it.”  Dean rationalized.

“I’m sure there is something more important for you to be doing.” You started again.

“Other than looking for another case, not really.” Sam insisted.

“Well, while you two nerds continue your sleep over, I’m going to grab some grub.” Dean joked and left for the kitchen.

“So, you got a system in place here?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah, some chronologically, others geographically.” Sam explained.

“This thing seemed to have an accent. East European.” You hypothesized.

“Okay. That gives me an idea of where we could start.” Sam concluded, grabbing some books off the shelves and handing them to you.

Not soon after you had started flipping through the pages, Dean came out with burgers and beer that no diner or bar could ever come close too.

“Oh my god,” You said with your mouth full. “This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

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anonymous asked:

Hi having a bad day :( would appreciate if you could write me something fluffy to cheer me up?? But only if you're not too busy..

title I love you
summary for those days that don’t feel so good
pairing itasaku

“Haruno-san. You have a visitor,” someone whispered. No one nudged each other in the lab. Explosions, both metaphorical and literal, were bound to happen that way. 

“Mm…who?” asked Sakura without looking up. She set the flask down on her workstation. Rubbing at her nose with the inside of her wrist, she glanced over at her coworker. He shrugged.

“Some Uchiha. Brooding. Dark hair. Can’t tell which he is,” he answered. Sighing, Sakura nodded. Better honesty than a random guess. To the untrained eye all Uchiha could look equally sulky and unapproachable. She had often described them as a clan of cats in human bodies. (To which Sasuke had conceded with minimal protest.)


“Excuse me! You can’t just waltz in here! You could contaminate everything!” someone grumbled from across the lab. 

Completely ignoring the warnings, he trudged in, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Sakura started when his forehead connected with her shoulder.

“SHISUI-SENPAI! I almost spilled that!” she shrieked as she whirled.

“I need you,” Shisui said, dodging her angry swats.

“Get out, you degenerate,” she snapped in return. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her wrists. 

“Not like that. Like I need your help. Let’s go,” Shisui retorted just as angrily. Hefting her over his shoulder like a sack of rice, he hauled her out of the lab. His grey flak jacket and the sword on his back probably had something to do with the fact that not a single person stepped in to defend her. 

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You want me to paint your What?!- Bucky Barnes X Reader

Prompt: Bucky asks you to paint on his metal arm because him and Steve are going to a fundraiser gala for children . And he thinks painting his arm will make him less intimidating.

Word Count:2017

Warnings: none

You were a very artistic person, and everyone in the tower knew it. You would spend hours in your room, painting, sculpting, sketching, pretty much anything that is considered “art” you are good at. And it was no surprise when someone in the tower came to you with a request. Just last week Tony had asked you to replicate one of his suits using oil paints so he could donate it to an art museum in the city. And Peter had requested you sketch a picture of him in his suit so he could make a poster out of it and hang it in his room.

But today something strange happened. You were sitting at your desk, working on sketching Peter. He was sitting a few feet away from you on a stool when a soft knock sounded at your door. Peter swiveled his head to look, his expression covered by his mask.

“Hey! Don’t move or it won’t look right,” you chastised. Peter looked at you once again, a muffled sorry coming from behind the red mask. You dropped the pencil and looked up at the door.

“Come in,” you called. The door opened to reveal none other than Bucky on the other side. He tentatively poked his head into the room.

“Oh sorry to interrupt I-” he whispered, beginning to close the door.

“No worries, what do you need?” you asked before he could close the door all the way. He opened the door once more to step all the way into the room.

“I was going to ask-

“Is that Bucky? Because if it is, I can just leave because he probably needs something more than I do and he kinda scares me…” Peter began to babble, not moving from his original position facing the opposite wall, turned away from the door. The last bit of his sentence got quieter as it went, he probably didn’t even mean to say it.

“No Peter, stay there, and don’t move,” you instructed. He made some comment that was lost to the wall, and Bucky smiled slightly.

“So what can I do for you Mr. Barnes?” You asked, trying to play coy. You and Bucky had been flirting back and forth for weeks now, but neither of yo believed that the other was flirting, beside the fact that literally everyone in the tower was trying to convince the both of you. You had hoped that Steve would get through to Bucky and he would make a move, but so far, nothing of the sort had happened.

“Um, actually I have kind of a weird request…” he trailed off. Millions of possibilities began racing through your mind. Did he want you to draw him naked, did he want you to sculpt him naked… why was it that all you could think about was him naked? You shook your head slightly, trying to rid your mind off those thoughts. And as though he could read your mind, the corners of his mouth turned up in a lopsided smirk, your heart thundered against your ribs.

“Don’t worry, Doll, it’s nothing too racy,” he commented. Peter made another noise from the stool, you turned to look at him.

“Don’t move…. And don’t listen,” you commanded.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he chimed.

You again looked at Bucky, your cheeks flaring crimson as he gazed down at you.

“I want you to paint my arm,” he requested. You looked down at his flesh arm wondering why he would want that.

“Wrong arm, Doll,” he corrected, catching you looking at his human arm. You then turned your attention to his metal arm.

“Why?” you inquired.

“Me and Steve are going to this fundraiser for kids with illnesses, and Steve said if I painted my arm I might not be so intimidating,” Bucky explained. You nodded, already planning out what you were going to paint.

“So you want me to paint your metal arm with some design so you won’t scare sick children?” you asked, wanting to confirm his request.

“Yep,” he responded with a quick nod of his head.

“Ok, um… sure, yeah. Let me finish with Peter, I only have about a half hour left and then I can get right to that,” you decided, turning to head back to your easel with the drawing of Peter.

“You can just sit at that desk over there and I’ll be done soon,” you explained to Bucky. He nodded and sat down at the desk, picking up a mug of paint brushes and fiddling with them.

“Alright Peter, that’s it for today, I should have this to you in color by next week,” you confirmed, finishing up the last few lines. He exhaled loudly and ripped off his mask, his dark hair plastered to his face by sweat.

“Ok, thanks [Y/n], bye!” he called, rushing out of the room as fast as humanly possible. You giggled.

“He really doesn’t like you,” you confessed to Bucky.

“I’m not surprised, who knows what Tony told him about me,” Bucky smirked. You gathered up a couple different types of paint, not sure which ones would last on his arm. You sat down across from Bucky at the desk, setting down your supplies on the wooden surface.

“Ok, so I’ve never painted on metal before, so let me just swatch some different paints and we can see what works best,” you explained, beginning to uncap bottles of vibrant paints. Bucky nodded and watched as you carefully stroked the color along his arm. He squirmed under the brush slightly.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, not really sure how his arm worked or felt.

“No, actually it tickles. This arm is a lot more sensitive than anyone thinks,” he breathed. You bit back a smile as he wiggled his fingers. You realized that an oil based paint would be best because he was only going to wear it for a short amount of time, and you didn’t want to risk any rusting, which could occur with a latex based paint.

“So what am I painting?” You asked, wondering if he wanted anything specific.

“Anything you want, Doll. I trust you,” He said, looking at you expectantly. Your cheeks were aflame with flattery at his comment and your heart slammed against your ribs.

“Ok then, let’s get started,” you breathed. You flexed your hands and stretched one final time before reaching for the red, white, and blue paints, knowing exactly what you were going to paint. You poured the paint onto your palette, selecting the brushes you needed from the mug Bucky was messing with earlier. You brought the brush to his arm gently, painting stroke after stroke. Occasionally Bucky squirmed under your touch. And when you pressed your palm to his in order to steady his arm you could swear you heard his breath catch in his throat. Despite the nerves of sitting this close to Bucky, and touching his arm, your hand was steady, painting precise lines.

“So what are you painting?” Bucky asked about halfway through your project.

“It’s a surprise, you trust me, remember?” You smirked, looking up at Bucky through your eyelashes. His mouth once again stretched to form a smile, and he nodded his head.

“I did in fact say that didn’t I,” he stated, flashing more of his perfect teeth as he continued to smile. You smiled back, dipping the brush into the cup of water to clean it. You caught him glancing down at his arm.

“Ah! No looking until I am done! You said you trusted me, no prove it,” You teased, using your index finger to lift his chin up so his eyes met yours. You wiggled your eyebrows and went back to painting. Bucky just smirked.

“You really are a great artist [Y/n],” Bucky commented a few minuted later, sincerity lacing its way through the compliment. Your stomach erupted with butterflies and your cheeks, for the third time this afternoon, blushed deeply. Bucky swiveled his head around the room, looking at all of the art pieces, some were framed with awards dangling off the bottom corners, others were rushed doodles pinned up along your headboard. But either way, they were all amazing to him.

“Thanks Buck,” you responded, smiling and trying to hide your blush by focusing again on his arm. But that didn’t help. His arm was toned and the unpainted parts gleamed in the soft light of the later afternoon sun that was flooding into your room from between your parted curtains. A soft metallic whirring came from inside the appendage, and as of now, it was the only sound in the room.

“Sorry about the buzzing, it does that sometimes, especially when I’m happy or content or- I think it’s a nerve thing- I should really ask Tony to fix it, it’s really annoying, especially when I do this or-

“Bucky it’s fine, I don’t mind it at all,” you assured. He was babbling, a tell tale sign he was nervous about something. His fingers wiggled suddenly, sending ripples through every metallic muscle of his arm.

“Whoa,” you breathed, leaning back as his arm readjusted. The plates sliding over one another and the sound of gears turning caught you off guard.

“Oh crap, sorry, yeah it does that after a while if I don’t use it, give it a minute,” Bucky apologized, obviously embarrassed by his arms sudden outburst. Once everything was back in it’s place you continued. It was another fifteen minutes before Bucky spoke again.

“No but really you are the best artist I know, and the prettiest one at that. And um, I was just- I was thinking- I wanted to ask you-

“Bucky calm down, it’s just me,” you whispered, trying to get him to form actual sentences.

“Ok, yeah right. So this fundraiser is more of a gala, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me… as my date?” Bucky finally finished, looking at you, his deep blue eyes hopeful and expectant. You stopped painting, putting the brush down, looking up at him, making sure he was serious. His eyes widened, willing you to give a response.

“You don’t have to decide now, you can give me an answer tomorrow I just need it by tomorrow at three. Or is it two? Actually I don’t know when it starts but-

“Bucky I’d love to go with you,” you giggled, pulling him out of his distracted ramble

“Great,” he sighed, relieved you had agreed.

“And it also happens that I am done!” you announced, allowing him to look down at you work. You had painted broad bands around in arm in the colors red, white, and blue, and in the middle, right in the middle of his bicep, you had painted his red star a gleaming silver.

“It’s Steve’s shield!” you chirped, happy with your work.

“[Y/n] I absolutely love it! I love it so much I could kiss you!- uh, I mean I could- can I- I mean uh I want to uhhh-”

You cut him off by leaning over the desk to press your lips to his forcefully. Months of teasing, flirting, and being led on came pouring out into this kiss. He brought his hand up around your cheek, eventually tangling his fingers in your hair. You smiled into the kiss and let him take the lead. You eventually pulled back, your breath coming rapidly, your heart galloping against your ribs. You looked at Bucky, who looked stunned and dazed, but beyond happy. He looked at you, his eyes full of lust and longing. You stood up and took him to the door.

“Remember, let that dry for an hour, and don’t get it wet. I’ll see you at the gala tomorrow,” you drawled, closing the door as Bucky padded backwards down the hall, his eyes never leaving yours. Well now you could check two things off your list, painting a metal arm, and getting a hot date to a gala fundraiser. Wow, art really did open doors to once in a lifetime opportunities.





Deep Dark Secret - Sam Wilson x Reader

Prompt: Sam fic prompt: You and Sam are on a mission together doing recon when you come across, and he learns of, your greatest fear.- @agentraven007  (It went a little askew of the prompt but here it is.)

Notes/Warnings: Character death, violence and mentions of past violence. This one gets pretty angsty, y’all…

Originally posted by somekindofspacegod

 You made eye contact, bone chilling eye contact, and took off after him. The man was in dark clothes with a hood that covered most of his face but the headlights of a passing car revealed his terrible stare long enough for you to know that he had to be stopped.

 You peeled away from the rest of the team but Sam and Steve caught your rushed exit.

 Steve looked at Sam, silently wondering if Sam knew what was going on. He shook his head but turned to run after you.

 “You focus on the bad guys,” He told Steve, via the com in his ear. “I’ll find out what’s gotten into her.”

 Sam activated the mechanical wings on his back and lifted off the ground.

 “Sam,” Steve called from back with the team. “You got eyes on (y/n) yet?”

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Since Day One

Originally posted by emeraldpxxls

Pairing: Sam x friend!Reader, Dean x best friend!Reader
Word count: 2,805
Warnings: Swearing
Request: @feelmyroarrrr Request- dean x reader, making pumpkin pie as he’s had a rough time, (and an apple one as he’ll bitch if there’s not one of those) and taking him on a picnic with blankets and warm spiced cider to drink.

Dean had been your best friend since the moment you’d met the green eyed hunter. You were 18, and your older sister had just gone off to study abroad. He was 22, and Sam had just left for Stanford. Both of you feeling abandoned by a sibling. He had happened to be walking by the park you were at, and stopped to talk to you.

Sitting on the swing, your hood was up, your hands gripped the two chains, and your eyes were on your feet. You kicked the ground below slightly, watching the mulch move from the impact. “Hey, you alright, kid?” His voice rang out over the empty park. It was just about dusk, and you were the only one there.

You looked up and raised an eyebrow. “No, and I’m not a kid.” You shot back, your eyes traveling back to your feet.

“Ouch.” He chuckled, and you heard the metal fence move. When you looked up, you could tell that it’s because he’d jumped it and was walking towards you. “Name’s Dean.” He smiled, his hands deep in his pockets. “What’s yours?”

Chewing on your lip, you thought about whether or not you should tell him. “Y/N.” You told him softly, completely unaware how important he would become to you.

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I’ll Be Waiting

A/N): Hahahaha I broke my heart writing this. Sorry for so much Natasha…

Pairings: NatashaXReader

Summary: Natasha will wait for (Y/N) and they will do the same.

Warnings: Death, Sick!Reader, Angst

Tags: @sxph-t

Originally posted by anya-aninor

(Y/N) was sick. Not the one they get better in a week but the one that they had limited time left. (Y/N) was diagnosed with cancer and they only gave them about a couple of weeks to live. They thought of how it really wasn’t supposed to end up like this and they questioned why it happened but they couldn’t stop it from happening. They hadn’t told the team yet, they were scared to and didn’t want to be treated any different. So, they kept it a secret and decided to make the best out of their final days with the people they loved.

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There and Back Again (Part 4)

Originally posted by superuunatural

Summary: Recuperating from the shifter hunt means down time and a long conversation with John. Dean wants to go on a hunt without you.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: mild angst and language, mention of death 

A/N: welcome to part 4! Mostly fluffy stuff with John and a little angst with Dean. Not much action, so maybe I’ll get part 5 out for all you lovely people this weekend ;)

This is a series! Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Originally posted by jypnior

Mark x Reader
Fluff and a little angst
Author: Admin Jazzi

All you had done was go to dinner with Jinyoung. It wasn’t a big deal to either of you. Mark was away and you both wanted food. You texted him and asked him to get food. It really wasn’t more than that. But Mark made it into a huge arguement.
When you got to your shared apartment all the lights were turned off. You hummed, happy with your full tummy. Jinyoung bought you steak. He always bought for you, that’s why you asked him to go with you.
Your happiness wasn’t long lived, when you walked into your bedroom, you saw Mark sitting on your bed. Your diary slung across the bed, along with some more of your things.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked. He didn’t look at you, his expression was very cold.
“Did you have fun with Jinyoung?” he asked you.

You sighed deeply, he was jealous. He threw a fit when you hung out with male friends; but when you hung out with one of his members he got extremely jealous. He didn’t see how innocent your friendships with the other boys were. You didn’t care, you still hung out with them; because his jealousy was his own problem. He should trust you

“Yeah I had a lot of fun.” you said. Mark stood up quickly and you stared him down.

“Are you cheating with him?” he yelled angrily.

You laughed, “If I wanted to be with Jinyoung I would just break up with your controlling ass.” you said.

You walked passed him, cleaning your things up off the bed.

You took off your coat, and laid it down on the bed.

Mark took your hand, looking at your new bracelet. “I swear if he bought this for you!” he exclaimed.

“What? What would you do?” you pulled your arm away. You stared him down and he backed off a bit.

“I can’t believe this, he’s one of my best friends!” he yelled at you.

“Mark if you think I’m cheating on you, then you don’t trust me at all.” you said, trying to be calm; but your voice rose. He was pissing you off.
You had been together for almost a year and he still didn’t trust you. You trusted him with all your heart but he wouldn’t return the same trust.

“Why are you always out with him?” He asked.

“Because he buys me food!” You said honestly, “and he’s my friend. That’s it! My friend!”

“Don’t pretend you’re not fucking him! You didn’t even answer my texts!” He said.

You looked at him, “Shut up and get out of my face Mark, I’m sick of this.”

He started laughing. “All I want is for you to tell me the truth!”

“No Mark you want me to admit to doing something, that I’m not.” You yelled back at him.

That fight lasted a week. Every time you saw each other.

You were finally sick of it, while he was at practice you packed up and went to a hotel.

Loving Mark was really hard, especially when he acted as if you’d try to hurt him.
Staying away from him was even harder, because every time you turned on the tv, he was there.

He didn’t look happy, Mark was good at acting; but he didn’t seem to be happy on camera.

That made you even more sad. He was like that way because you didn’t stop doing things that obviously made him uncomfortable.

But he needed to understand that you would make friends with whom you wanted. You couldn’t stand the unbearable control he wanted over who you associated with.

It was the only thing you argued about. He never tried to tell you what to do otherwise. He was sweet and kind. But he never wanted you to have male friends. It wasn’t the way you wanted your relationship to go. But the more you thought about it, you missed him so much. It wasn’t the way you wanted your relationship to end.

To Mark 3:07pm : let’s meet up.

He simply answered okay. Your heart beat sped up. You rushed to your suitcase. You found the blouse Mark bought you from a trip and a pair of ripped jeans. You also wore the watch and the ring he got you.

You didn’t know why you were so nervous about meeting him. you’d been dating so long and you didn’t feel that you were wrong about the argument, yet you were still nervous.

You met Mark at a coffee shop a few blocks from your hotel. It was one you both went to often, mostly because no one knew about it. It gave the two of you a bit of privacy.

He looked so good. He was wearing a loose shirt and ripped jeans. His hair was styled up and his smile looked wonderful.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when you saw his face. You walked up to him, and hugged him tightly.

He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up slightly, in a tight hug. “I missed you, baby girl.” He said.

You breathed him in deeply. He smelled like soap and shampoo. It was the scent he had after dance practice. You closed your eyes, enjoying it for a moment.

When he finally let you go, you opened your eyes.

He looked at you with sad eyes, his hand brushed over your cheek, gently caressing it.

“I’m sorry baby, I really messed up didn’t I?” He asked.

You nodded softly. “I can’t deal with jealousy Mark. It’s not fair when I’m just having friends.” You told him.

He nodded quickly, “I know baby. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Jinyoung explained just how stupid I was being.”

You smiled, “He’s not just your friend, he’s mine too,” you started with a pout, “It’s not fair that you want me to drop all my other friends. I’m never gonna do anything to hurt you.”

He hugged you tightly again. Silent for a moment, he hugged you tightly.

“I trust you. I just get jealous when you go out looking as beautiful as you are. It drives me crazy when you spend more time with jinyoung or the other members.and he’s buying you things? How can I not be jealous?” He said.

You pinched his cheek. “You’re stupid. I’m madly in love with you or I wouldn’t put up with you.and I bought it myself. I just didn’t want to say so because I was angry.”

He laughed and kissed you, “Am I forgiven?” He asked

“Only for four dinner dates at that steak restaurant, and if you promise not to freak out if I go to dinner with Jinyoung.” You said.

He pouted, “why do you want to go to dinner with him so bad?”

You pinched his cheek a bit harder, before kissing it “He buys me food when you’re not around to do it. “

A/N: hey guys. I was feeling really sick, I think I have food poisoning haha,m; but I really wanted to write this for the request. I’m sorry if it’s not that great. If you don’t like it please request that I write it again and I promise when I’m better I will do it again.
Admin Jazzi 🥔


TW: throwing up

PART ONE - PART TWO  masterlist


Taking it slow. We’re just taking it slow.

You quickly glanced at your reflection in the mirror before heading to the door, opening it and smiling at your date waiting for you.

“Hey.” They grinned shyly.

“Hi! You decided what we’re seeing?”

A movie was what you needed to distract yourself from the events of last week, you wanted anything but the thought of Ashton in your head.

As you walked down the road to the local cinema you felt a tad sick, but you shook it off as you made courteous conversation.

Standing in the line for tickets was when you knew you were going to throw up. You hastily excused yourself and bolted for the bathroom, only just making it in time to throw up into the toilet.

You shakily put one hand on the plastic stall wall for balance, attempting to catch your breath. This has been happening for weeks now. You had no other symptoms of illness however, so you had kept ignoring it but from vomiting every few days to being sick every day became exhausting.

You cleaned yourself up and found your date again, really struggling to keep your thoughts from straying to worst conclusions.

“You okay? You look a bit…off.” Your date said politely.

In other words you looked like shit.

“Yeah, sorry, just a bit under the weather.”

“Do you still want to see the film?”

“Yes!” You said, almost too enthusiastically, “I’m fine.”

Truthfully, you wanted to curl up in a ball and fall asleep, but you just needed to stay just to prove to yourself that you were over Ashton.


Watching the film was awkward to say the least. You kept your hands folded on your lap, deliberately rebuffing your dates attempts at holding your hand. Mostly because your palms were clammy, but also because holding hands with anyone apart from Ashton seemed to make no sense at all.

You practically ran out the cinema, excusing yourself from your poor date and walking home quickly; desperately needing the fresh air. But you quickly realised that being alone with your thoughts wasn’t the best idea.

What if a spider has crawled into my stomach and is now living there? What if chewing my nails has slowly ripped up my insides and now I’m puking them up?

Your heart dropped to the floor as you conceptualized a more realistic and yet also more sickening thought.

What if I’m pregnant?

As soon as you got in you sat at your computer, frantically googling pregnancy facts. The more you read the more stressed and antsy you became. Morning sickness could begin occurring from week six of pregnancy. The baby bump showing from week twelve.

You shot up and tore your coat off, racing to the mirror. You took a shuddering breath and lifting your shirt. Your stomach looked relatively the same, perhaps a bit swollen but that could have easily been from the large lunch you had.

You furrowed your brows, thinking back to the when you last had sex.

Oh God.

It was Ashton.

Counting back the weeks to when you started feeling sick the dates matched, and according to the internet you shouldn’t be showing yet anyway.

In all of your haste that night you were pretty sure you both forgot about condoms, but you should have been on the pill anyway. Upon researching that apparently less than 1 woman in 100 would get pregnant whilst on the pill in a year.

Of course it would be you who would fall into that miniscule category.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You had to remind yourself to breathe as you were pretty sure you went into shock, falling into the wall behind you and rubbing your hands down your face.

“Don’t panic.” Your voice was wavering and you failed to calm yourself.

You needed to get tested, see a doctor. You couldn’t be pregnant, oh please don’t let you be pregnant.

The next day you wound up in your doctor’s office, twiddling your thumbs and not being able to concentrate in anything for longer than 30 seconds. When your name was called you were positive you were going to throw up again, but this time from nerves.

An hour later and you were out of the stuffy office, throwing up into bushes.

You were pregnant.

You had a baby in your stomach. Ashton Irwin’s baby.

It took you the rest of the day to build up enough courage to text him. You hadn’t spoken at all since he’d shown up at your door last week, but you supposed that didn’t really matter now.

Come over. I need to talk to you.

Not the most revealing of texts but you couldn’t tell him through the phone. This was bigger than both of you and all of your problems.

To your surprise Ashton responded almost immediately, informing you that he’d be at yours in half an hour.


How do you tell someone that you’re pregnant? Someone that you’re not even in a functioning relationship with?

You nervously paced around your bedroom, concocting words that you could say when you saw Ashton again, but nothing felt right.

You jumped when you finally heard the doorbell go, you you were visibly shaking as you opened the door.

Ashton looked nervous as well, but his appearance was instantly stricken with worry as he saw the state you were in.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” He stepped over the threshold into your home.

His hand hovered near your arm, as if he wanted to hold you but was afraid to touch your skin.

“I…I need to tell you…” You gulped, looking into Ashton’s eyes for the first time.

“Tell me what?” Ashton was fussing around you, obviously distressed as you danced around the subject.

“Sit down.”

“Y/N please, just tell me what’s happened. You’re scaring me.” He was practically begging at this point, holding your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him through watery eyes.

“Ashton…I…” You tried to break the news delicately, but you suddenly lost control and blurted it out to the boy, “I’m pregnant.”

You watched the colour drain from his face and his hands drop to his sides, his gaze straying from yours idly.

“What?” He croaked out, his voice barely audible.

“I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

“Mine? Are you sure?” Ashton’s eyes snapped back to stare you down.

“Positive. I haven’t,” You coughed and lowered your tone, “I haven’t slept with anyone since you.”

“Oh God.” His hands ran through his hair and he began pacing madly in circles, muttering to himself.

“Ash.” You weren’t sure what to do.

How do you console someone who broke your heart?

“What happens now?” Ashton turned to you suddenly.

“I don’t know?”

“Are you going to keep it?”
“I don’t know.” You dropped your head to look at your feet, you felt under interrogation, “Do you want me to keep it?” You spoke under your breath, not really registering what you said before you said it.


Your head snapped up, “What?”

“I want you to keep it.”

“Why?” Your head was spinning in complete shock.

“Because I fucking love you, Y/N! I’m in love with you. I want to have children with you and I want to be there for you when they take their first steps or won’t stop crying at 3am or pee on your shirt. God I have loved you since the day I met you and I can’t keep hiding that from everyone.” He paused to take a breath, looking at you for any sort of reaction.

You didn’t even notice the tears uncontrollably rolling down your face until Ashton lifted his thumb to wipe one from your cheek.

You were speechless.

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s your body and your decision, I just needed you to know how I feel, I’m so fucking sorry for messing you around.” Ashton took another breath as if he was going to say something else but he was cut off by your lips on his.

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but it felt right. You ached with longing as you pulled away from each other after what felt like a lifetime. You rested your forehead on Ashton’s as you caught your breath.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whispered, “Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t, I promise I won’t.” He kissed your cheek and interlocked his hands with yours.

“Stay the night?” You proposed, wanting nothing more than to feel his arms around you as you slept.

“I can’t,” He sighed, “It’s already late, I have a stupid early wake up call tomorrow.” His eyes were filled with genuine sorrow.

“Okay,” You kissed his lips delicately again, “What time?”

You scrunched up your nose in disgust. You hated how overworked Ashton was.

“Yeah.” He chuckled at your expression, “That pretty much sums up how I feel too.”
“Are you gonna tell anyone?” You gestured to your stomach as you both moved towards the front door.

“Do you want me to?”

“No, but this isn’t exactly something we can hide.” You rubbed your lower neck, “You can tell the boys and your family if you want.”

“You sure?” He asked tentatively but you could tell he was excited at the thought.


He kissed you again, slowly moving his lips over yours and drawing a small moan from your mouth.

“I love you.” He put a hand on the door handle.

“I love you too.” You blushed as Ashton slid through the door, leaving you with a warm tingly feeling and a smile you couldn’t shake for the rest of the night. 

Disasters that lead to pretty boys (are worth it)

Pairing: Simon/Raphael (background Malec & Clizzy, mentioned Jeliorn)
Words: 5.4k
Warnings: none
Beta: @accordingtomel
Read on ao3

Simon absolutely loved animals. He was the biggest dog person, but that didn’t stop him from also suffocating himself in cat fur whenever he saw one. He even hoped that birds on the trees thought he was cool, when walking down the street. So when Clary was going to Maine with Izzy on some sort of a romantic vacation (aka they were going to stay in a fancy hotel room and do it on every fancy surface there) and she asked Simon to take care of her pet fish Arnold, Simon obviously agreed. (Not that he had much of a choice. It was Clary, she would end up convincing him somehow anyway. Once, Simon actually found himself buying her a milkshake just so she would let him help her decorate her new art studio. He still isn’t sure how that happened.)

Five days into spending alone time with Arnold was when Magnus showed up at Clary’s place with Chairman Meow in his hands, his hair a mess, which meant that somehow the world actually ended without Simon noticing because Magnus’s hair was never a mess.

“What the hell happened?” Simon asked worriedly, pausing the How I Met Your Mother episode that he was watching, right when Barney was about to propose to Robin. Simon was busy trying to erase the last two episodes from his brain because fuck those writers for breaking them up, they were so good together!

“Alec’s soccer match is today, and I completely forgot because I might or might not have been hung over from yesterday’s party, but he really wanted me to come, also their new uniform has shorter shorts, and god damn, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Magnus answered, putting the confused and hissing cat down on the table and running up to the mirror to fix his hair.

“You’re so smitten, it’s honestly ridiculous.” Simon smirked, rolling his eyes with endearment.

Keep reading

Hii, so this is a little idea that I had for a while now. There’s plenty more to come ,at least I hope so. Let me know what you think about it and if you want me to keep going with this? Thanks xxx

Chapter one

“Can you come here for a moment?”
Harry rushed into the kitchen of the apartment he quite grew to like over the last eight weeks. His band was finally taking a break after five years of nonstop working and traveling from one continent to the other. If he was honest he still didn’t feel like they were on a break. He still felt the constant jetlag and tired eyes but he enjoyed his time off. He was staying with his sister Gemma in London right now. Gemma all but begged him to stay in her apartment for a while because she missed him so much over the past few years. Harry agreed immediately, he was planning on staying with his family anyway.
“What’s up, Gem?” he asked his sister who looked like she would have a meltdown in a few seconds.
“My co-worker is coming over in half a hour. She’s really amazing and I’m so excited that I can work with her because she’s so talented. I really want her to like me and feel comfortable here because she will probably spend quite some time here during the next few weeks. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t walk around half naked or do something stupid, yeah?”
Harry chuckled at her nervous rambling and leaned against the doorway of the kitchen. He met her last co-worker on a party a friend was hosting. If he was quite honest he doesn’t like people from the journalism industry all that much. It wasn’t even because of all the things those journalists and press people wrote about him or what rumours they spreat about him. It was the way they acted. Every journalist he met yet who wasn’t interviewing him and his bandmates was a bit strange. They were arrogant and cocky and he thought that some of them thought they were better than other people with different jobs. He really did bot like journalists.
His sister of course was different. He loved the way she wrote and how passionate she was about her job. And she wasn’t arrogant and cocky.
“Don’t worry. I’ll say hello to your new, ‘amazing’ co-worker and then I’ll leave you alone. You know I don’t like those people anyway.”
Gemma shook her head at him and walked over to the fridge to get herself a water bottle. She opened the bottle and took a sip from the cold liquid.
“She’s not like them.” she said when she turned around again to look at her brother.
“She started in this industry about three years ago. We have this big project going on. We’ll be working on stories together.”
“Sounds nice. I really she isn’t like the others I met.” Harry rolled his eyes at the thought.
“No, she’s really sweet.” Gemma smiled.
“Oh, did you say sweet?” Harry asked as if he didn’t hear her correctly.
“Yes, she is sweet. But don’t you dare make a move on her.” she threaded and pointed a accussing finger at Harry.
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything embarrassing. Unless-”
“Harry, no! She won’t be interested in you anyway.”
“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing. Just go and do some work or something.” she rolled her eyes with a cheeky smile on her lips.
Harry shook his head at her and turned around to leave before he remembered something.
“I’m going to go out with Niall tonight. I won’t be long though because he is going to fly to LA tomorrow.”
“Alright. Please, don’t get drunk. Don’t want you to be sick.”
“I won’t.” Harry said and rolled his eyes at her.
He went upstairs into Gemma’s bathroom where he took a shower and shaved the little stubble that grew over the last two day he didn’t shave. He was quite looking forward to this little night out even though he didn’t enjoy those type of things as much as others did his age. Tonight he’s going to be alone with Niall which was good because that meant nobody would end up drunk. They both weren’t that into alcohol, a beer or two were okay but they both knew their limits.
He got out of the bathroom with a white towel around his hips and made his way to the guestroom. The room wasn’t big but more than enough for him to stay for a few weeks. He went over to the little drawer on the opposite side of the room where the bed stood. He decided he would wear a black see-through button down with black ripped skinny jeans and some boots.
When he was dressed and was finished with drying his hair and spritzing on some cologne it was almost seven o'clock. In ten minutes he had to leave in order to be on time.
He made his way downstairs when he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.
A giggle.
A very cute and pretty giggle.
And it was definetaly not his sister giggling.

He walked down the last few stairs and over to the living room. He stopped right in front of it though, he didn’t want to be seen yet.
“So I thought that maybe we could separate our stories, you know? I don’t think it’s a good idea when we write everything together because that will probably get a bit too much. What do you think?”
That was his sister talking. There was a little pause before he heard the other girl speaking.
“I think that’s a very good idea. What I’ve seen from your previous writings is that you quite enjoy to write about nature and food and stuff like that, right? I love to write about girly stuff like makeup, fashion. But also about love and sex.”
Hell, Harry thought. He needed to know what that girl looked like. Her giggle was pretty, her voice was pretty. And somehow the fact that she enjoyed to write about sex awoke something in him.
No, it wasn’t because he was a horny teenager who started to blush and giggle whenever someone said the word ‘sex’ but the way she said it was somehow… sexy? And the fact that she wrote about it was kind of hot.
Harry rounded the corner and when he saw her it seemed like everything around him stopped.
God, she was pretty.
She smiled at him when she saw him and he didn’t think he ever saw such a breathtaking sight before. Her plump lips were stretched in the most beautiful way and her teeth were the brightest shade of white teeth could ever be. Her eyes were literally shining and looking so beautiful and perfect he almost cried. Her hair was just the right length and suited her beautiful face perfectly. She was dressed in a white shirt and blue ripped jeans and she looked so cute how she sat there he almost wanted to pinch her rosy cheeks.
“Hi! You must be Harry. I’m Y/N, Gemma’s new co-worker.” Y/N stood up from the couch and reached her right hand out with a bright smile.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Harry mumbled and smiled softly at her.
He shook her soft hand and he was sure that he felt tiny electric shocks on his skin when he touched her.
She really was amazing, Gemma didn’t lie.
And incredibly sweet.
She was one of those people Harry’s mum Anne always called sunshine. Anne always said that Harry was a little sunshine because when he walked into a room the whole atmosphere changed and when he smiled he world looked like a better place.
Y/N was a sunshine too. Her smile left him breathless and he almost didn’t find any words to reply to her.
“Nice to meet you too, Harry. I hope I don’t disturb your evening or something.” she said and her eyes widened and her smile fell a bit.
“No, no.” Harry was quick to answer.
He wanted her to smile again.
“I had plans anyway, don’t worry. I think Gemma is quite happy when she gets rid of me.” he grinned over at Gemma.
“True.” Gemma laughed.
Y/N smiled again and Harry felt his heartbeat racing when she looked into his eyes again. He never felt like that before when he looked at a girl. Of course, he met pretty girls before but never did he meet someone like Y/N. Something about her felt different from the very first glimpse he caught of her. He wouldn’t call it love on first sight, though. He didn’t believe in that. But maybe it was a massive crush.
“Well, I’m going to leave now. I’m already a bit late.” Harry chuckled and waved at the two girls.
“Bye.” Y/N smiled at him.
Harry left the livingroom and when he was sure that they couldn’t see him he leaned against a wall and took a deep breath. That was… intense. He wondered if Y/N felt the same way but…
Let’s just say that Harry is a hopeless romantic. He loved the idea of finding the significant other and loving them forever.
She won’t be interested in you anyway
The words his sister said earlier were replaying in his head. It was true. He was almost certain that she had a boyfriend because well, look at her. Someone who does not see her beauty must be blind. And even if she was single he wouldn’t have a chance. She was perfect and he was… Harry.
And she worked together with his sister.
She was taboo.

He left the apartment after he put his boots and a jacket on.

When Y/N heard the front door of the apartment fall shut she turned to Gemma.
“So I’m not some weird fangirl or something but I have to admit that I was quite nervous about meeting you’re brother.
"Oh, there’s no reason to be nervous around him. Sometimes he’s a pain in the arse but most of the time he’s a absolute sweetheart.” Gemma smiled at her.
“So you actually enjoy having him here?” Y/N asked curiously.
“Yeah, I do. I didn’t quite get to see him that often during the last few weeks is it’s nice to finally spend some time with him again.”
“That’s nice.” Y/N hummed.
“So where were we?”
“Yeah, right. So…”

Harry got home around midnight, absolutely sober. His thoughts were still consumed by the girl he met a few hours ago. He knew that he was probably overthinking everything and he only felt that way because he hadn’t met a girl in a very long time and he was pretty lonely. But he also knew that something happened when she touched his hand. It was somehow magical.
He was still sitting in his black Range Rover even though he was already in the driveway of his sisters apartment. Y/N’s car was still parked as well. His heart raced at the thought of seeing her again and a smile spread on his cheeks.
He got out of his car and made his way to the front door. He unlocked the door with his key and closed the door quietly behind him. He took off his boots and coat before he walked to the kitchen. When he walked inside he saw her placing down two wine glasses.
“Hey.” Harry spoke quietly so he wouldn’t scare her.
“Oh, hi.” Y/N turned around with a soft smile playing on her lips.
“I’m sorry that I’m still here but we wrote a lot and now Gemma fell asleep. She had a bit of wine so…”
“Always falls asleep after she had some wine.” Harry chuckled and leaned against the doorway.
“She’s on the couch. Did not want to wake her.”
Harry nodded and smiled at the way she took care of his sister. She was sweet. Inside and out.
“Alright so I’ll leave now.” Y/N said.
Harry’s smile fell and a frown took over his features. He knew he couldn’t ask her to stay a bit more because well he didn’t know her and she probably did not want to spend any time with him. And it was late.
“You came here by car, right?” he asked and she gave him a nod as answer.
“Oh, you’re not annoying at all. It’s sweet that you worry about me but I only had a little sip and I’m a big girl.” she gave him a little wink and a cheeky smile.
Harry chuckled and nodded.
“I know you are. Just don’t want anything happening to you.”
Y/N’s smile fell a bit at his words and he almost thought he said something wrong but she caught herself pretty quickly again.
“Don’t worry. I’ll give Gemma a text when I’m at home, alright?”
“Okay.” Harry nodded.
Y/N wanted to make her way over to the living room but right when she reached the doorway of the kitchen she stumbled over her own feet and almost fell on the floor but Harry caught her. One arm was around her waist and the other hand was holding onto her arm.
“Careful, love.”
Y/N looked up at Harry with wide eyes and a blush on her cheeks. Harry really did not have a dirty mind but the way her eyes were so big right now and her cheeks had that flush made him wonder what she would look like on her knees for him, about to take his-
“I’m so sorry. I’m really the clumsiest person ever.”
She moved away from his hold and looked at the ground a big embarrassed.
“Don’t worry. I’m clumsy too. I stumble over everything. And most of the time I can’t control my limbs.”
Y/N looked up at him again and a quiet giggle left her lips.
Yes, her giggle was really cute.
“I should really leave now.” she said after a while of just looking at him.
Harry nodded and moved aside so she could get her stuff from the living room. She returned a few seconds later, smiling softly.
“Thank you for saving me from hitting the floor.” she blushed.
“Anytime, clumsy.” Harry grinned cheekily at her and poked her nose with his finger.
Another giggle left her lips and now Harry was sure that he never heard something more beautiful.
“Good night.” she whispered and got up on the tips of her toes to press a soft kiss against Harry’s cheek.
Harry felt his cheeks heating up immediately. He didn’t think she would do that.
“Good night.” he whispered back.
She sent him another smile and left the apartment. He didn’t know how he could stay so calm while talking to her because on the inside he was freaking out. Harry still felt the ghost of her lips on his cheeks and he still smelled the whiff of vanilla that hit his nose when she leaned up for the little kiss. He was sure he could die happy now.

The next morning he woke up with a smile on his face. Y/N got home safely, he saw Gemma’s phone lighting up with her message half a hour after she left.
He made his way downstairs into the kitchen were Gemma was already sitting at the table with a croissant on her plate and a cup of tea in her hand.
“Good morning.” Harry smiled at her and went over to the counter were Gemma already prepared a cup of tea for himself.
“Good morning.” she replied irritated.
“What got you all smiley this morning, hm?”
Harry had to admit that he was quite grumpy in the morning. There was never a reason to his bad mood though and after twenty minutes he’d be a little sunshine again.
“Oh, come on now.” Gemma eyed him suspiciously.
“I know that smile. It has something to do with a girl am I right?”
Harry stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to look at his sister. The problem was that he always told her everything and vice versa, but he couldn’t tell her that.
T/N was taboo.
“No. There’s no girl. I’m just in a good mood.” he sent her another soft smile and sat down across from her at the table.
“Alright. Anyway, Y/N is so amazing. We already wrote on our first piece last evening and it’s so great. I love her ideas and she’s so inspiring. It’s going to be so good, we really are going to write about everything. I’ll write about lifestyle, nature and cooking and stuff and she’ll do girly stuff and some juicy stuff like love and sex. I can’t wait to finally start writing on it.”
Gemma sounded so exited Harry couldn’t help but smile at her. He was proud of her and everything she achieved lately. And the fact that she now worked with someone like Y/N who she admired was amazing.
“Sounds great. I’m excited to read some of it.”
“Oh, yes. We’ll upload the first one in like two days. And the beginning we wrote is already so good. Y/N will finish it up at home and then it will be up.” she grinned.
“Nice.” Harry nodded and took a sip from his tea.
Oh how he wished he could make a move on Y/N. But he didn’t want to ruin that experience for Gemma. If he asked Y/N out on a date or they actually really started dating it would be quite awkward if they would end. So that was probably not that great of an idea.
“Y/N told me she was pretty nervous about meeting you because of who you were. She was cute about it.”
“She knows me?”
“Of course she does! Who in our age doesn’t know who that weirdo from that strange band is? And when she found out that she was working with the sister of Harry Styles she probably had a little fangirl moment.
Harry chuckled at the thought of that sweet girl fangirling over him.
"Anyway, what do you think about her?”
Gemma’s question made him suck in a breath and he closed his eyes briefly. Goodness how he hated to answer that question. What should he say? That he was in love with her from the second he caught a glimpse of her perfect face? That he didn’t stop thinking about her since she kissed his cheek?
No that probably wouldn’t be that smart.
He hated lying to his sister.
But well, here goes nothing.
“Umm, well…”

Bitch (felix x Reader)

Felix x Reader

Reader gender: female (I’m sorry :( )

I’m thinking of making more stories based on this one, what do you guys think?


It’s hard to be a woman.

You must think like a man,

Act like a lady,

Look like a young girl,

And work like a horse.


He remembered his first days of training to be a mercenary; it’s not what everyone thinks it is. They think you just walk in and BOOM they give you a title, gun and armor then suddenly, you’re one of them. No. it was never going to be like that. He had to train. Hard. And of course, there were always teams. You had to have a teammate on every mission until you were qualified to be on your own. When he was going to do his first mission, the commander said that they were going to pair him up with one of the very best mercs they had. Felix had spent the following weeks imagining what his partner would be like. He imagined that he was be tall, strong, buff, probably some kind of ultimate badass who had a huge ass gun.

That wasn’t what he got.

Instead, he got you.

He was almost about to ask the commander if his teammate was late or if he called in sick until you spoke, “You Felix?” your voice was blunt and very to the point. You seemed bored to be in his presence.

“Uh, yeah?” he said unsure, “Wh-”

She sighed, “Hurry up, we have a mission.”

He hesitantly followed her, still confused. Why would they pair him with a woman? They said that he was being paired with one of the best, so why is she here?

“Um, so you’re the person they chose?”

She ignored his question, choosing to let his ignorance slide, “Look. There are rules you must follow while we work together – one. Don’t get in my way,” she interrupted before he could even say anything, “Two. I have the experience, not you, you prove to be a nuisance and I will get rid of you, they wont even know it was me. Three-”

“Are you fucking serious right now? Rules? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Her eyes darkened and she got out her knife and stabbed his shirt to the wall, pushing him against it.

“Listen here, pretty boy. You know how hard it is for a woman to get in here? I’m the only one. You know why? Because I don’t fuck around. You think that because you’re you that you can walk all over me? I do everything all these men here do and more, so they would actually glance at me, and you know what? I still have to train, and train, and train, more than you ever will, so in the end, I can do everything everyone in here can do, in heels, backwards. This is my arena, bitch.”

He glanced down for a moment and saw that indeed, you were wearing heels. Though he didn’t actually see how hard it would be to walk with them on, they’re just shoes, but only make you taller.

It was simple and easy to say that when he first met you, and for the next few days of it he didn’t like you, he was bitter to you and hated your constant “bitchiness”. The way you would call him out for failing and in training sessions, you would never go soft on him, which at times, led to him getting serious injuries, and how you would always greet him as “bitch”.

But over time, he grew to fall for each and every one of those things you did. How you were a complete badass and after you giving him a lesson on how to walk in heels, you noticed yourself having a soft spot for the newbie. After that lesson he never said anything about if you (rarely) made a mistake while wearing heals. The two of you were soon the top two mercenary’s (bit obvious who was at the top), and were always paired together, per each other’s request and the commander believing you were a perfect team. The two of you had promised that no matter what you would always stick together, you would always be a team.

However, not all promises can be kept. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just a fact in life. A day came when a new trainee made it in and needed a partner, his name was Locus. The commander assigned Felix to work with him, even though, Felix was now fit to leave the training system and start taking up real jobs for money. Anyone would think that Felix being his selfish self then would’ve declined, the thing was, he never turned into an 100% asshole until he was split up from you, you had rubbed off on him. He had promised that he would find you as soon as possible and that the each of you would wait and reunite.

He gave up on that after five years.

And now, he was still partnered with Locus, on a stupid case involving the Reds and Blues. He had never seen you since the day he went with Locus. You had both went your separate ways. Felix had told Locus stories of you, on how you were the best agent they would ever ask for and how no one, no matter what would ever be able to reach your level. Never.

“Yeah so boss, when’s this other merc guy coming? I can’t wait around all day, either they’re here in two minutes, or we leave,” Felix said.

“I can see their trackers, they’ll be with you soon enough.”

“Do we even need him? I doubt they’ll compare to myself or Locus.” The ego never really leaves a person.

“Trust me. You’ll be impressed.”

“Fine,” He said flatly, hanging up and crossed his arms, leaning on a nearby tree, bored out of his mind from waiting, “He sure is taking his sweet precious time.”

He was tempted to leave then and there but was stopped when he heard footsteps behind him.

“About fucking time,” he rolled his eyes, “Hurry up, you’ve kept us wai-”

“Miss me, Bitch?”

He stopped. Frozen. That voice, the way he could practically hear the smirk in the words. It couldn’t be… could it?

He turned around and sure enough, he recognized that (armor colour) armor. You hadn’t changed a bit.

“(your name)?” he said, fearing that it wasn’t actually you.

You took your helmet off and sure enough, that little smirk was there, “Reporting for Duty.”

He ripped off his helmet and walked straight towards you and pulled you into a kiss, you kissed him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had been missing this for over five years. Five years without your voice, sarcastic remarks, your touch, your smell, your taste, and finally, he had you back.

You both kept your promise.


“Now it doesn’t matter that we’re behind schedule?” Locus rolled his eyes.

A Surprise


They’re the only thing you look forward to every year. You always drop small hints a week before to make sure your boyfriend, Cristiano, and your friends knew exactly what to get you.

Except this year you didn’t have anyone to drop hints around.

They were always too busy or sick to go shopping and hang out at your favourite cafe with you. So you took extra hours at your office to keep yourself occupied for the day, since Cristiano came back late from practice there was no point in lounging around the house all day in boredom.

So here you were, spinning round and round in your chair behind your desk in pure apathy. You spun around at lightening speed, facing your desk to answer your ringing phone.

“Hello?” you answered cooly, trying to make it sound like you meant business.

“Y/N,” your co-worker and your somewhat friend, Alice, called you from her office. You two were never really close only saying ‘good mornings’ and ‘see you tomorrow’ here and there. But ever since you took extra work hours, you began to chat a lot more often.

“Your uh boyfriend’s here to see me- YOU! He’s here to see YOU!” she stammered.

You didn’t have to see her to know that she was trying to keep her eyes off Cris. You couldn’t blame her though. He was quite the eye-candy after all.

You slammed the phone down once you heard her say this and you were sure you broke the world record for running in heels. Cris had just lost a game last night and when he does lose, he never talks to anybody for about a day, he just sulks around the house in random places muttering to himself about all the mistakes his team made. And he’s been ignoring you all day, but it’s been three days since his loss. It didn’t seem that bad of a loss to ignore you for three days though.


But not strange enough for you to stop Usain Bolting to the elevator to reach the lobby. After being neglected by him for what seemed like ever you didn’t care if he even looked at you, you would take any sign of acknowledgement from him.

As soon as you exited the elevator, you heard them talking about something. And due to your nosiness, you instantly stopped to eavesdrop on them.

“That’s SO nice of you. Y/N is super lucky to have a boyfriend like you. I’ll be sure to get there at 6:15 to help you set up all the decorations and I’ll pick up the cake on the way so you can have more time to kick her out of the house.

Oh no. Oh hell no.You weren’t supposed to hear that. Curse your stupid need to know everything.

Cris was planning a party for you.

A fucking surprise party. For you.

After all these years of telling him how you adored surprises, not once had he planned a surprise for you. Hell, you would take a damn ‘hey babe, I got take-out on the way back from practice’ as a surprise, but nope. Not. One.

And now that you finally heard him trying to organise a birthday party. For you. You could barely believe your ears.

“Yes, that would be even better actually, gracias. Right now I’m taking her to a beautiful hotel so she and I can relax while a few of my teammates start the basic decorations in my house,” he said.

You wanted to rip your ears off of your head at this moment now. Maybe you could play it off and act like you don’t know anything about this.

You quietly removed your loud heels, turned back to the elevator and pressed the button.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath.

When you call the elevator from the lobby and it arrives, it dings. Loudly. Only if you remembered earlier.

And when that ding echoed around the lobby, those two heads turned in your direction.

“Ahm uh hey Cris,” you said nervously.

“Y/N…um hi amor.”

You took a deep breath and walked towards Cris slowly. Those acting classes your mother forced you to go through better not fail you now.

“Why’re you here? Is everything okay at home?”

“Nope. I mean yeah everything is fine at home. I just uh came here cause I forgot what time you got off home. I meant work. But um Alice here informed on everything I need to know about your hours,” he responded. “Why’re you holding your shoes?”

You looked at your hand and forgot all about your heels.

“My uh feet were hurting.”


Cue awkward silence in the large lobby

Then he exhaled sharply, hung his head in defeat and grumbled. “How long have you been standing there?”

“I just got off the elevator what do you mean?” you tried to play off innocently. But Cristiano wasn’t having any of it.

“Y/N,” he said quite loudly, making Alice jump in shock.

“6:15….” you whispered.

“Hijo de puta,” he snapped while storming outside to call everyone and tell them to cancel everything.

“I’m sorry about that he just gets frustrated easily.” You quickly apologised to Alice before chasing Cristiano out the doors. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You watched as Cris practically flew to his car. “Cris wait!” You called him trying to talk to him about the whole thing and managed to get into his car before he sped off.

After he called James and Marcelo to tell everyone to stop setting up, he went off on you.

“Damn it Y/N, why do always have to be so nosy? If you weren’t, then you could be having the best party ever! But no. No you just have to know everything. Y’know I planned this thing for so long behind your back and I’ve actually been successful. Until now at least.”

You sat there in silence, not sure of what to say.

“I have been working my ass off for this thing. I was so close,” he mumbled the last part more to himself than you.

“DAMN IT,” he shouted and hit the steering wheel nearly hitting the truck next to him.

“CRISTIANO!” you screamed. You weren’t going to die before your birthday in a car accident. “Okay I get that you’re mad. Alright? We’ve all been mad when things don’t go our way. Please just calm down it doesn’t matter to me that much.” You tried to reassure him.

Thankfully by the time you concluded your talk with him, he was pulling into the driveway.

He got out of the car and forcefully opened your front door, making it slam into the wall. Also scaring the living crap out of your cat, who shot up the stairs. You followed behind him slowly and cautiously.

Cris paced slowly back and forth in the living room, running his hands through his slick hair then rubbing the back of his neck, signs he was in deep thought. Then he dropped his hands and looked directly at you with grief in his eyes. He walked over to you still holding his gaze and fell to his knees.

“I’m so sorry, maravilloso. I just wanted your birthday to be perfect. I wanted you to have the happiest day of your life. I knew how much you loved surprises.  I just wanted you to be happy. I shouldnt of taken it out on you. I am so sorry.” He apologised repeatedly while he embraced you around your waist tightly.

“Baby, it’s fine. It’s okay. Cris darling, I want you to know that I’m always happy when I’m with you. Always. I forgive you.”

You bent down and kissed his lips with heavy passion. 

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Cris.”

WELP! that took way longer than I thought it would! Anyway I hope you all like it :)

Poison (Bucky x Reader) Alternate Ending

Words: 1,502 

Warnings: Nope! 

Tags: @annadier @happelu970 @shamvictoria11 @spookass @pabegay1 @thedoctorlivesthroughbooks  @sebs-sugar-cookies @sunshineloki @miss-nerdalots @angelicshinigami @cheyennneee @fangirl-127 @fangirl570 @peachylilghost @studyingbymyself @voidvaleria @i-ship-it-ironically @indaybella99 @supernaturalonthecase @dynamicxdamsel @lidyaliolanstiles @avengingangelsoulofmusic @heismyhunter @pjhpgfdwshspn4evah @musiccoffebook @bae-johnson–maloley @yaszx @damnbuckyishot @leahhavoc @redheadromanoff @akiiiiiiiiiii @dandelions-inthewind @re2d2 @selena8712

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 

Every time you moved your arms a sharp pain would surge down your sides and focus on the spot of your belly that was wrapped tight in bandages and was sewed shut with painful stitches. Stitches that you may or may not have broken a couple of times.

You were sick of being stuck in a highly uncomfortable bed all day. The constant beeping of machines, and the dull smell of cleanness and medicine were driving you insane. You spent most of your days on your laptop, talking to those who visited you or staring out the door and windows. Wanda stayed with you as much as she could, but she was busy and couldn’t always stop by to keep you entertained.

The rest of the Avengers made a lot of appearances as well. They were all crammed into your room when you woke up, much to your surprise. So many flowers, stuffed animals, cards, balloons and much more from each of them.

They were all lucky that you were a very forgiving person, and also having a near death experience really made you open your eyes. As cheesy as that sounds.

Things were still a bit hesitant, from both sides. The Avengers were regretful and it showed in every action they did. While you were a bit cautious, you knew their eyes had been opened wide after they nearly lost you, but you were worried it wouldn’t last.

Wanda has assured you many times that the Avengers were not throwing you to the side ever again, and that you had nothing to worry about.

While you were stuck where you were recovering, the Avengers tower was now being filled with pictures. Pictures of you. There’s a wall in the family room that is filled head to toe with different pictures of the Avengers.

There’s a picture of Tony, Steve and Bruce last Halloween, all of them smiling and laughing. “Stark, spangled, Banner,” is what they went as.

There’s a picture of Natasha giving Clint a piggy back ride throughout every inch of the tower, after she lost a game of Monopoly to him.

There’s a picture of Sam putting magnets on Bucky’s arm while he was sleeping. The picture was the reason Bucky woke up, Scott forgot to turn the flash off. Sam leaped over that couch so quickly that he ended up spraining his ankle.

And the most favored picture of them all is you. Nobody remembers who took the picture, all they know is that they all love how happy you look in it. You weren’t even looking at the camera, your gaze focused on something a little to the left of both the camera and the photographer. Your hair was lazily done but it was pushed back with a white headband so everybody could see you. You were laughing lightly, your lips tinted pink and teeth as white as snow. Your eyes were sparkling so bright and they were filled with such happiness and love.

Nobody remembers who took the picture or what event they were even at, but they do know who your gaze was focused on. The man you were admiring from afar, the man that made a smile cross your features, the man that caused so much love to fill your eyes.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Keep reading

Nothing Like a Lightswitch: M’s Husband’s 3-Month Coma (Part 1)

Hey there, writerkin!

I think this is going to be one of the most important posts I’m ever going to put up here on ScriptMedic. It’s a little bit of a detour from your typical Aunt Scripty post, but it’s so worth it.

This post speaks to the heart of why this blog exists. It’s a post very close to its soul.

It’s here to take the idea of a “lightswitch coma”, rip it up into tiny little shreds, throw those shreds in the air like ableist disgusting spaghetti, and then stomp on them with combat boots.

Today we’re publishing an interview with “M”, whose husband was in a coma for 3 months back in the early 2000s.

While the details aren’t fresh, when it comes to the devastating effects of prolonged seizure and coma, this is a very typical case. Stories like this are why I get so upset about the “lightswitch coma” trope, in which a character who’s been comatose for months or even years suddenly wakes up and asks what’s for lunch.

As you’ll see, the reality is far, far different.

If comas are your thing, or a trope you have ever even considered using in a story, this post will be worth its weight in gold to you.

Aunt Scripty: Can you tell me a little bit about what happened?

It happened in 2001, when I was still a certified EMT. My husband of one month had gone to bed early with a headache. I went to check on him a bit later him having trouble breathing and foaming at the mouth. I kept his airway open long enough without a kit for the paramedics to get there.

Later  on we figured out he must have had a grand mal seizure, thrown up and aspirated. He had another seizure on the way to the hospital.

Once there they were trying to get him stabilized (I don’t remember that night well). By the next day he had pneumonia and they actually had him prone so he could breathe.

[Aunt Scripty’s Note: proning a patient means laying them on their belly so that the fluid and exudate in their lungs can drain to a different position. This is normally only done in patients with severe respiratory failure. This man was extremely sick.]

They were trying to get him stabilized enough to transport him to [Big City] because he was continuing to seize on a regular basis. It took a few day but then he was transferred to the Neuro ICU at [Big City General].

His seizures kept getting worse so they decided to put him in a barbiturate coma. So many specialists were called in to try to figure out why he was seeing and how to stop it as normal means had not worked.

I can’t remember how many times they tried to bring him back out of the coma with different cocktails running though his system to stop the seizures, but each time he would immediately start seeing again.

After a week or so they put in the feeding tube directly to the stomach. One of the few things I can still picture clearly is the way the breathing tube in his nose was rubbing his nostril an upper lip raw despite everything the nurses did.

And those nurses were beyond amazing. He did not get a bed sore in the full three months he was under. They took care of him and encouraged me to do things like read to him. I think I got though almost all of the Deeds of Paksinarrion (spelling!) by Elizabeth Moon.

The point at which they finally woke him up it was either that or simply let him die. They told us that while he might wake up he might never become aware again, if he became aware he might not have full cognitive abilities.

It was really a fairly low chance he would wake up and not seize himself to death.


Aunt Scripty: Wow. That’s pretty scary. Did they ever figure out what was causing the seizures?

Nope!  One of the guesses is that he caught some sort of virus on our honeymoon . That is part of the reason he is now a case study. To give the student something to show that there aren’t always answers.

They took him off the barbiturate and he had some small seizures but not the full grand mal. It took him a long time to become even semi aware, I seem to remember around 48 hours before he was moving on his own. At first he was flailing, kind of like lashing out if people were leaning against the foot of the bed.

After another few days it was obvious that he was mostly there and had full cognitive function but had lost at least four years of memories.

It was our whole relationship he lost. I wasn’t his wife because he loved me anymore he tried to love me because I was his wife. It was a nightmare of everyone, but yeah.

He remembered his friends and family, just not me.

We tried to make it work for two years but between the personality change and his mother deciding it was all my fault we decided to split before we started to resent each other. We do still talk from time to time. He is doing okay, just had the little electrodes put in to help stop the seizures.

I wouldn’t wish what either of us went though on my worst enemy but it made me the person I am today and I do not regret a single decision I made during that time. Such is life I guess.

Aunt Scripty: Did your ex-husband have any memories of being in the coma? Has he told you about his experiences during the stay?

We did talk about his stay, he didn’t remember anything from his time in the coma.

His memories of the hospital stay once he woke up were mostly confused and unclear, he remembered a few conversations with his mom specifically (particularly that she was telling him things he didn’t feel were right even if he had no memory of them).

Expectedly he was confused as to where he was, what had  happened etc. He knew he had graduated college but couldn’t remember most of his time there.

He was still having seizures during this time just not continuously, both grand mal and petit mal.

He tends to not have any memories of the seizures as well and may not notice that he is having a petit mal until after it is over.

Wow. Okay, I don’t know about you, but I need a break.

Hopefully this has communicated the gravity of a patient being comatose.

We’ll be back next week with the conclusion of the interview, including what M wishes writers would write instead of writing lightswitches.

I want to thank M again for her time, and her story, and for being willing to share all of this with me—and all of you.

If you have your own story of a critical illness that you’d be willing to discuss, please reach out to me. I can be reached at auntscripty {at} gmail {.} com or with a message here on Tumblr.

Thanks again.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty