Blue Skies and Possibilities (Lin/Reader Soulmate AU)
Summary: In a world where you can only see color once you make physical contact with your soulmate, you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Fate has other plans.
Word Count: 8642
Note: Thank you to @the-real-tony-stank for reading this ahead of time and being so sweet and to @thatoneimaginesblog for giving me a cute idea that pops up in here and putting up with a lot of Lin pictures while this got written.
You were in
the forest again.
light streaming through the trees, and the vivid color of the leaves told you
that you were dreaming. You felt a flutter in your stomach and smiled to
yourself. If there was color, that meant he would be here. You let your
instincts take over and walked swiftly in the direction the creek you’d visited
so many times before.
was, just like you knew he’d be. He turned to you with a boyish smile on his
face and you felt like you had just gotten home after a long trip away. You
didn’t have a name to attach to the color of his eyes, but you knew they were
deep and familiar. He held out a hand to you and you grabbed it, never knowing
how much time you’d have here. Tonight was a lucky one. You spent what felt
like an entire summer in the woods, neither of you speaking but somehow
heard a buzzing in the distance, you knew your time was up. You held tight to
his hand, but the world around you faded anyway. The feeling of his fingers
laced with yours was the last thing to slip away.
Summary: You and Bucky have been through a lot together. But when things become too much and Bucky breaks up with you, you find that you could lose him completely.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 6,005 (WHOOPS)
Warnings: Language, some violence, mention of killings/death, & ANGST (the angst train gets worse in the next one).
A/N: Well, I’m back from my writing hiatus now it would seem! It’s been a long time, so I’m probably rusty at this, and I’m still super nervous to post this. This part is more backstory than anything, but I still enjoyed writing it a lot. Hope you all like it too!!!
Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my entry for @winchester-writes Rose’s Birthday Drinking Challenge!! My prompt: Republic Tequila - “Y'know know, they’re all ‘Well…you gotta drink too.” it’ll be bolded in the fic. I hope you guys like it!!!
I’m not that much of a drinker.
Usually, it was Sam and I that had to drag Dean’s drunken ass back to the Impala after he made a complete idiot out of himself in front of the bar’s waitress.
It was never me.
But tonight was different. Especially when the feelings you’ve been harboring deep inside your core for the green eyed Winchester were finally reaching maximum overload.
Anonymous said to the-modern-typewriter:Sorry but could we get some more the villain took things too far with the hero and is now regretting it prompts? I live for the REGRET.
1) “No - no - no.” The villain rattled the hero in their arms, as if that might shake the life right back into them. Make them fight back. Something. They stayed limp, unresponsive, gone. “You weren’t supposed to lose, you idiot. Come back to me. You can still win this, pull of some dramatic comeback, yeah?” You were never supposed to lose.
2) The villain caught the hero as they fell, cradling them carefully in their lap so they wouldn’t crumple into the dust. The hero gasped, breath shuddering, blood beading in the corner of their mouth. “Shh, shh. Don’t try and speak,” the villain soothed. “It’s over. You fought bravely, you did your best. But it’s over now. Just relax, I’ve got you. You did your best.” A flicker of a smile crossed their face as they pressed a kiss to the hero’s clammy forehead. “It just wasn’t enough.”
3) It turned out that victory was boring. The absence of anyone who could match them, spark me, even remotely understand me was boring. My minions refused to meet my eye, and any enemy that remained viewed me as some soulless husk born evil and stupid because of it. The regret came slowly, a hollow at first. A pinprick that grew, and grew, and grew, until the loss of you took shape like you were standing right there with your foolish optimism as bright as the sunshine Turned out, utopia meant nothing without someone who could imagine a better future. Turned out, I’d tear the world apart to get you back. Turned out, I was nothing without you. And this is the love you value so highly? I don’t recommend it.
yuri being mila’s go-to comfort person whenever her heart gets broken by her on/off hockey player boyfriend
he already has a Comfort Mila Kit which includes nail polish (milas good at nail art and he lets her experiment w/ him), 80′s movies, microwave popcorn and lots of chocolate
he HATES her bf. literally just. TERRIBLE. MILA YOU FUCKING IDIOT WHY DO YOU KEEP COMING BACK TO HIM HE SUCKS
one day mila’s not in her best form during practice. she isnt landing anything for shit and her face is just… sad and lost and it hurts yuri more than he’ll ever admit
he asks her whats going on and she admits she broke up with her boyfriend for good
‘what happened this time?’
‘he cheated on me.’
and. oh man. was yuri seeing fucking RED
but for once he calms tf down and focuses on mila bc he doesnt want her feeling more upset than she already is
he asks yakov if mila can take the rest of the day off and he agrees bc he too can see how low mila is rn
he tells her to go to his house instead of her own bc nikolai already sees her as another grandchild anyway
when he gets home they move to his bedroom and yuri cant even bring out his Comfort Mila Kit bc she spends the rest of the night crying her eyes out
it kills him to see her like this, someone whos so strong to come so undone bc of some fuckboy who doesnt deserve being in her presence
hes glad he managed to contain his anger for once, bc instead of just running him over with his skates, he comes up with a much better idea
he remembers everything mila has told him about her relationship with this guy - the place where they confessed, their first date place, the restaurant where they spent their first anniversary
he steals his house keys from mila and hopes that the asshole remembers them just as well
and its totally not bc he stole his laptop, tv, credit cards and gaming consoles and put them in those significant places. not at all
and if they get stolen before the ex gets to them well thats not his fault lol
when he figures out that mila and sara like each other but havent acted out on their feelings yet, he pulls sara aside
tells her to get her shit together and just tell mila how she feels about her
and if she ever, EVER, breaks her heart she’ll have to answer to him
(also dont tell the old hag i did this seriously)
sara tells her anyway, when they finally get together, and mila just grins bc she just. loves yuri s o m u c h
because theyve gone past being friends, she thinks. theyre siblings in everything but blood, always looking out for each other and being each others rock
she’ll make it up to him for everything he’s done for her someday. she’ll start by telling otabek that she knows abt his giant crush on him and he better toughen the fuck up and tell him already before they both combust
Prompts: Continuation of the prompts 16. “N-no! Don’t let me go!”
17. “Stay please stay with me…”
Warnings: blood, mean words, much angst, some language
A/N oh man this almost made me cry
“Jason sit still.”
“Well it hurts.”
“It’ll hurt more if you keep moving,” you poured some alcohol on the wound. You had woken up in the middle of the night, approximately an hour and a half after Jason brought you home and collapsed on your recliner. When you found him, he was bleeding all over the chair. So much for that $200 Swedish couch from IKEA.
Now you were cleaning him up, despite the fact that you were still angry with him. It was the right thing to do in your mind. You just hoped Jason wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“Y/N could you be any less gentle?!” Jason hissed.
“If I were you I wouldn’t yell at the one with the scalpel,” you peered up at him with irritation. You were (coincidentally) a surgeon helper at Gotham City Hospital. Naturally, you had typical surgical tools. You never thought you’d need to actually use them since you were merely an assistant, but hey now they come in handy.
You had already gotten the first bullet out and patched up his left shoulder. Now it was the right. For some reason or another, his right shoulder was much harder to work on. Correction, it was hard to work on Jason in general, considering how he was simply sitting shirtless in your bathtub. (And you and I both know that Jason shirtless is a sight to see.)
“Aaaand, got it,” you said as you pulled out the bullet. Blood began flowing from the wound and it took all of your strength not to yell or throw up. Ironically, you didn’t have the strongest of stomachs, and here you were, studying to be a surgeon. You quickly treated the wound and covered his shoulder with the bandages after cleaning it up.
Now with two bandages wrapped around his shoulders, he looked like a football player of sorts. You began quietly giggling, old memories from high school resurfacing.
“What’s so funny?” Jason asked.
“Nothing, I just remembered something from high school,” your laughs faltered. Jason internally cursed. He loved your laugh, he could listen to it all day.
“What did you remember?” Jason asked. You knew he was trying to make you forget what had happened between the two of you a few nights prior.
“Remember that time that you wanted to be on the football team? So you could meet cheerleaders?” You reminisced.
“Please don’t remind me,” Jason scoffed.
“You asked. Anyways, I remember you somehow managed to get a football uniform and you looked adorable. It was a bit too big on you, but then again we were sophomores,” you recalled. A small smile appeared on Jason’s lips as he watched you think about that time. Then he realized you called him ‘adorable’.
“I was adorable you say?” He raised an eyebrow.
“We were 15, shut up,” you lightly chuckled. “So do you just wanna sit in my tub or…?”
“Oh, uh no. I would appreciate if you would help me up,” Jason responded.
You helped him up and led him back to your non-blood stained sofa.
“Sorry about your recliner,” Jason weakly pointed to your bloody chair.
“It’s okay. I’m sure IKEA has some sort of couch cleaning service or something,” you sat down next to him.
It stays silent for a few minutes and then Jason breaks the silence.
“Y/N. I think we need to talk,” he turned to you.
“What is there to talk about?” You asked while turning away from him. Your heart still ached from your conversation with him 5 days ago. You certainly had no interest in recreating that feeling.
“My whole…situation,” he touched your arm.
“Well maybe I don’t want to,” you got up from the sofa and moved away from him. He got up as well and followed you onto the terrace.
“Y/N, you can’t just pretend like what happened didn’t happen,” Jason said.
“That’s not what I’m doing! I know you died, and now I know you were resurrected, but that’s not why…why I’m so emotional about this! Why I’m angry!” You steamed.
“Then what’s the matter?!” Jason yelled.
“You’re an idiot! That’s the matter! You come back to life and don’t come back for 5 years?! And then you show up on my terrace and expect me to accept this, and then, this where it gets really interesting, then you say you love me?! Jason you’re really dreaming if you think for a second that I’m just gonna let you back into my life and it’ll be all sunshine and rainbows after doing what you did. That’s absolute bullshit!” You ranted. Jason was speechless.
“Not only that but do you think that saving me from near death is gonna give you leverage? Brownie points? You’re mistaken, if you believe that,” your voice began cracking. Sure enough, a few seconds later, tears streamed down your face.
“Y/N, I’m sorry, but there’s a reason I couldn’t come back immediately,” Jason said calmly.
“Why?!” You cried.
“When I was revived, I was messed up, I had some problems, I was crazy! I had so much rage and there was no way I was going to come back like that. I didn’t want you to see that. I needed to calm down,” Jason half-lied. He wasn’t about to tell you that he also spent some of that time training with the All-Caste.
However, since you knew Jason very well and remembered his lying tics, you picked up that he wasn’t being completely honest.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” you squinted.
“I promise I’m telling you the whole truth,” he said.
“Jason if you want me to trust you again, if you want to be back in my life, I suggest you tell the truth. The actual truth,” you crossed your arms.
So he did. He explained everything that happened. His exchange of words with Batman, whom you already discovered was Bruce Wayne when you visited him several times after Jason’s death. His whole Black Mask situation. Everything.
By the end, you weren’t sure how to feel. All you felt was relief. Relief that he was okay (that was a stretch), that he was alive, that he was standing in front of you. You were still semi-angry with him, especially about the fact that he ran a drug ring, which went against your morals, but you believed you could eventually get over it. He was back, and that was all that mattered.
“So…are we good?” He asked. You didn’t say a thing back. You threw your arms around Jason’s neck and hugged him with all of your strength.
Jason hesitantly put his arms around you too.
“I’m just glad you’re alive,” you whispered.
“Me too, Y/N. Me too,” he whispered back. You pulled out of your hug and looked down at his chest, one hand resting gently on it, the other hanging at your side.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I love you,” Jason said quietly. He lifted your chin and for the first time that night, you made full eye contact with each other. You weren’t sure what to say. You quickly looked away from him; it still hurt to look him in the eyes.
“Y/N,” Jason said your name. You weren’t ready for this. You convinced yourself you were but you were wrong.
You turned around to speak but before you could get out a word, Jason planted his lips firmly on yours. You were surprised at first, but you slowly closed your eyes and melted into the kiss.
It felt like an eternity before you pulled away. You wanted more, you craved the feeling he had given you.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since freshman year,” Jason chuckled. Surprised again. He had been in love with you for 6 years? You had no idea.
“Say something, anything, just stop looking at me like that!” Jason said.
“I love you too.” You said simply. Jason was shocked. He hadn’t expected you to repeat the words, not at all. He expected you to throw him out or yell at him again. But you didn’t.
“You do?” He asked.
“Why do you sound surprised?” You giggled softly.
“I just–I didn’t know you–I wasn’t aware you felt the same way,” he stammered. You laughed out loud.
“I’m not out of your league, and we were best friends for 2 years,” you pointed out.
“Okay yeah but–” Jason started.
“Just kiss me, Jason,” you cut him off.
“I can do that,” he smirked and leaned down to kiss you again.
Thats right little boys. Drool over my beauty, every one does. Fantasize about seeing me in real time. In my car, or walking down the street. Im that gorgeous girl you’d never have the balls to speak to, let alone make eye contact with. You’re ugly, fat and pathetic. You could only dream of having a girl like me. So you grovel with gifts and cash to feel that pinch of attention and acceptance. I still treat you like shit. You come back for more, like the true idiot you are. You love my abuse. I love abusing you.
If you'd look into half the hate crimes committed by white people that you call "hoaxes" you'd see they were true. You didn't even provide a source to refute any of the 9 in that post. Just accept the fact that people from the same race as you-minority or not- can be evil and move on.
Remember the 18-year-old Muslim girl who was assaulted and called a terrorist on the subway by Trump supporters and they tried to rip her hijab off and all of the social justice warriors had a complete meltdown? It was a lie that she made up to cover her parents finding out she was out fucking a Christian dude and getting drunk. It gets funnier, her Muslim father has forced her to shave her head completely for bringing shame on the family and she was arrested for making false accusations. Could you imagine the reaction from the left if a white dad forced his daughter to shave her hair off for having sex with someone from another religion?
Remember the Muslim student who was robbed, beaten and had her hijab ripped off and stolen by Trump supporters? It was a lie. She is now being charged for filing a false report.
Remember when racist white guys beat a Muslim woman to death in California and left a note behind saying “go back to your own country, you terrorist.” Yeah it was a lie, really her Muslim husband beat her to death in an honor killing because she wanted a divorce. Leftists went mental over this “hate crime” but again, silence when the truth came out.
Remember when those white supremacist, anti-Muslim Trump supporters burned down the mosque in Houston? It was a lie. While the mosque did get burned down, it was done by a black Muslim who had attended the mosque for years.
Remember when a group of white men killed a Muslim woman and called her a terrorist while she was walking with her husband and child? It was a lie. The husband planned for his mistress to murder his wife after “black magic spells” didn’t make her disappear…
Remember the Ohio student who was racially abused and assaulted by Trump supporters? It was a lie. She made it up the day after the election and after she made a post that she wants all Trump supporters to die of AIDS.
Remember the Michigan Muslim student who was harassed and threatened to be burned alive by the Trump supporter if she didn’t remove her hijab? It was a lie. Surveillance cameras show that she wasn’t even in the location where she claimed the attack took place.
Remember the Muslim woman who had her hijab ripped and forced off by police when they took her in for questioning? It was another lie.
Remember when that Muslim guy had Islamophobic messages graffitied over his locker, telling him to go back to where he came from. It was a lie, he graffitied it himself and filed a hate crime. He’s been charged for lying.
Remember the Muslim kid who was beaten up on the school bus by five white kids and it forced the family to leave the country? Yes, another fucking lie.
Remember the student who had her face slashed and was called a terrorist in Lower Manhattan? Yet another lie.
Remember when that student in Arlington was followed by a group of white men and held her at gunpoint because she’s Muslim? It was a lie.
Remember when the Muslim taxi driver was shot by a racist white guy and the left were demanding the arrest of a white guy for this hate crime against a Muslim? Well it stopped being called a hate crime the moment they found out the shooter was a black Muslim and he was let go.
Remember when that Islamophobic white guy threatened to kill a whole pile of Muslims and said there’s no place in America for Muslims? Yeah, it was another black Muslim.
Remember when the viral video of a Muslim student defending herself against a white guy who was trying to pull her hijab off? It was a hoax.
Remember when recently some white racist Trump supporters in Canada threatened to blow up Muslim university students? It was a Muslim.
These anti-Islamic hate-crimes even reached the UK with an 18-year-old Muslim student from Birmingham being punched in the face for wearing a hijab. It was a lie. She’s been charged for lying to the police. I’d be here all day if I even brushed the surface of hate crime hoaxes across the rest of the UK and Europe.
These are just some of the false claims made mostly within the past year and they have all received nation-wide coverage and left-wing outrage and hysteria, all pushing the agenda that America is a racist hellhole and nobody except white people are safe. Then it came out they lied and what did we get? Silence but of course the anti-America and anti-white delusion from the left remained.
All of these were hoaxes created by Muslims or crimes committed not by racist white guys but by other Muslims. They create these hoaxes mostly so they can justify protesting against counter-terror efforts and to stop police investigating crimes committed by refugees. The sad part is it actually works and the authorities fall for this virtually every time. Police have become afraid to do their jobs properly and the media are afraid to report the truth in the fear of sounding “Islamophobic”.
You think I’m talking bullshit? Let’s look at the police who are scared to investigate Muslim human trafficking and child abuse rings in the UK, being afraid to make public the mass sexual and violent attacks committed by Muslim refugees across Europe, being afraid to report their fellow officers who expressed radical Muslim beliefs or the teachers being afraid to alert authorities when their Muslim students show warning signs of becoming radicalized. This is the direct result of hoaxes like these enforcing the fear of being called Islamophobic for being honest.
It’s about time we start calling out the lies and false claims made by leftist Muslims, feminists and black lives matter supporters, they all do it on a daily basis in an attempt to demonize the West and white people while they’re the ones doing the attacking against innocent white people, Trump supporters of any race or gender and just about anyone who doesn’t agree with them. Example, example, example, example, example, example, example, example, example, example, example, example.
I know what you’re thinking anon, “oh shit, I wasn’t expecting to be made to look like a total fucking idiot today”. Come back when you have something useful to say.
It had been about six months since the last time you saw Yongguk.
You were slowly getting over him. It wasn’t easy but you were getting there.
You had a history with him so it wasn’t easy trying to forget all the memories the both of you shared together.
You were trying to forget though. You stopped following everything that had to do with Yongguk and B.A.P.
Even though it hurt you because the guys were your friends too, but you had to do what was best for your heart. Distancing yourself from them was the only thing you could think of that would help you get over Yongguk.
Today you had plans to meet up with some of your friends. They were a big help to you. They helped you forget about him for awhile.
You had planned to go to your favourite cafe and have lunch together.
It had been awhile since you guys had gotten together to just talk and have some food.
You smiled as you thought about your plans.
Looking at your closet you decided to wear some light blue skinny jeans, a black crop top and a black jacket with some white vans.
You had about half an hour left before you had to meet up with them, so you decided to get started on your makeup. Just something simple.
As you finished up your makeup your phone buzzed. You looked over and saw that it was a text from Daehyun.
You bit your lip contemplating whether or not you wanted to read what it said.
After a couple seconds you decided that you would see what he had to say.
◦ request: oh man i love your blog !!!!11!!!!11!1111 tbh your hyungsik smut is making me t h i r s t y but can i please request a hyungsik angst with a fluffy ending? fsjgeoijns a highschool au with him as your bully would be amazing holy //yes i am very into cliche storylines thanks// i’ll really appreciate if you do it and i lov u!!!!
MORE ROUGH PARK HYUNG SIK SMUT I LOVE
◦ a/n: I’m the worst; this was supposed to be the college!hyungsik but then it changed so much. It’s nothing at all like the request or a college!au but here’s a filthy, rough Hyungsik smut nonetheless xD
date: 27 march 2017 time: 02:45 location: outside the cirque arcana open
They led him outside in cuffs, arms winched into impossible angles behind his back and encircled by iron gauntlets. He let himself be bound with mute dispassion, staring blankly off ahead through eyes that were thick with the haze of narcotics but somehow still sharp, still cutting and piercing like ragged shards of broken glass. Somehow, even when handcuffs decorated his wrists, there was still a danger about every plane, every angle. He let himself be bound because he knew that he could be free of the restraints in moments, if he wished.
(The men who dared to cuff him knew this too, and their hands shook so much that they could barely close the restraints around Orpheus’ wrists.)
For now, though, he was content to play along, for no other reason than he knew the scene must look amusing to an outsider’s eyes.
They led him outside, past the tents that still reeked of detached euphoria, still dripped with the final vestiges of the heightened chaos that only drugs could elicit, and when he felt that he had gone far enough he twitched his wrists behind his back, let satisfaction wash over him as he heard the brittle chain between the handcuffs snap. One of the harlequins guiding him yelped, despite himself, and Orpheus grinned, all teeth, chin a little flecked with someone else’s blood.
“Shoo,“ he whispered, and then laughed - because he was still a little high and because this whole charade had just been so damn funny - a deep, dark, belly laugh that blasted through the twilight air like a cannonade. The security guards scattered in seconds.
There was still a trace of that hellish laugh in Orpheus’ throat as he lit a cigarette, exhaling wisps of smoke warped by the quaking of his breath as the guffaw subsided into a chuckle and finally faded to silence. Distantly, through the fog of smoke and the Sweetheart Table’s poisoned incense, he noted another presence by his side, and as he turned his head Orpheus forced his mind to sharpen, ready with his customary brand of pointed malice.
“Heath can you please just calm down and explain what has happened. Heath, it’s gonna be fine, I love you and you know that,” you called out from outside of the bathroom door. Heath had come home, seen the look on your face and high tailed it to your upstairs bedroom, putting the door between you. To say it had been a rough week would be an understatement. Heath had just gotten home from filming for a few months and you were both still adjusting to being so close to each other all the time.
“Yeah, but I screwed up,” Heath replied, opening the door so that you could see him leaned against the doorway.
“What do you mean?”
“I just. I haven’t had to do stuff like clean up thr kitchen or wash the sink for the past four months. But I saw the sink was full and I knee you wouldn’t want to come home and deal with that so I tried to tidy up and I don’t know how but the plates ended up dropping and I know they were your mums and you really loved them and I just felt horrible and I ended up cutting my foot with some of the broken shards and-” he blabbered on and on, but you were judt staring at him. Finally you interrupted his ranting, grabbing him by the shoulders and throwing your self into his chest before wrapping your arms around him tight.
“Shut up Heath,” you whispered, feeling his heartbeat against your ear. “I don’t care about the plates. They aren’t that important,” you said, leaning yout head back to look up at him. He stared down at you with the faintest of smiles on his lips, his hand reaching up to brush a piece of hair from your face. “I do care about your foot though, did you get it out babe?” you asked, pulling back from him and glancing down at his feet.
“Oh, um. Now that you mention it,” Heath began, laughing as you looked up at him with eyes with in concern.
“Are you kidding me Heath?! Jesus Christ, come on you idiot. Back one day and I have to take you to the hospital,” you sighed, putting yourself under one of Heath’s arms and beginning to your way to the stairs.
“You know I love you right?” Heath laughed, leaning down to press a kiss against your head.
You couldn’t help the small smile that made it’s way onto your mouth but kept your head down. “Oh shut up you loon.”
Do I know this was shitty? Yes. Do I care enough to delete it and start again? No.
Ray pulls up in the car and Rip starts groaning like he’s been stabbed, clutching his gut. “Raymond, what the hell did you buy?”
“Oh, it’s a Ferrari F40,” Ray says, “the twin-turbo 1987 make? I dunno, it’s pretty cool, right?”
Rip puts his hands over his mouth and wheezes through his teeth. “Where are we putting that, then? Surely you don’t expect to fit a whole car on the ship?”
“Ask Mick, it’s for him,” Ray says, getting out of the car and tossing the keys to Mick. He doesn’t catch them, and they clatter at his feet–he’s too busy staring at Ray, jaw clenched, tight with shock.
Ray takes a hesitant step forward. “Mick? You…you like it, right?”
“That’s why you wanted to come back to 1987,” Mick says. “Haircut, you idiot. Did you pay for that thing in cash?”
“Oh yeah, right on the show floor!” Ray enthuses. “And besides, I’m not the only one who wanted to come back. Sara said something about buying some My Little Pony toys in mint on card condition to sell on ebay.”
“Okay, but that’s not a Ferrari.”
“Yeah, but some of those toys run for like, a thousand bucks mint on card? Pretty wild if you ask me.”
“You just–you just bought a Ferrari in cash,” Mick says. “Haircut, do you know what money does?”
“I had to get it,” Ray says. “It’s handsome and red and I just–it reminded me of you. That’s all.”
“We’re not putting a Ferrari on the ship,” Rip groans, and Sara elbows him, two huge bags from Toys R Us hanging off each arm.
“Hey, shut up, don’t get in the way of true love,” she protests. “Just because your idea of a romantic gift is buying me royal wedding commemorative plates–”
“Excuse me, I went back in time to Elizabeth’s wedding specifically to buy you a set–”
“A Ferrari,” Mick says, shaking his head and putting his hand on the door. “I just–Ray. You don’t have to do this. I like you ‘cause of you, not your money.”
“And your big dick,” Sara pipes up. “Can’t forget the dick.”
Ray blushes, hiding his face in his hand and grinning. “Well, I just–I thought the surprise would make you happy, I could shrink it down until we get back to 2017 and you could put it in one of your safe houses maybe? Or just–”
Mick lifts his hand away from his face, replacing it with his own, his callused fingers stroking Ray’s face, his thumb running over his jaw. Ray’s lips part just a little, pliant and pink and hopefully pouting at him.
“Surprised your big brain didn’t think that far ahead,” he teases. “But thanks for the gift. I mean it.”
“Well, as long as you’re happy–” Ray finishes his sentence as soon as Mick’s lips collide with his, a sharp, bruising kiss that makes him cling to Mick’s jacket, melting in pleasure against him.
“Why don’t we take a drive,” Mick says, “before we leave, just you and me, so you can see how happy you made me?”
“Oh,” Ray sighs, laying his head against Mick’s shoulder. “That’d–that’d be nice.”
“Gay,” Sara says, and Mick knocks the bag of toys out of her hands, Ray laughing as Sara and Mick start yelling at each other, bending over to pick up the keys and toss them at Mick. This time, he catches them without looking.
A/N: Part two maybe? Guess it depends on feedback. Inspired by Jumper, a very good movie
The brothers were sitting in silence, Sam typing away on his laptop while Dean looked through his phone. The motel room they were resting in smelt of rotten eggs, but they were used to it. Silence swam around them, the only noise counteracting it was the tip-tap-typing of Sam’s keyboard. But it was fine. It was a soft noise that seemed to bring a relaxing cool over them because it was a sign they were still here.
And then the typing stopped, causing Dean to look up from the article he was reading and furrow his eyebrows when he saw Sam looking at him from over the laptop. The brothers stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them blinking and Dean had no idea what was happening.
“Tell me the story,” Sam stated, closing his laptop so Dean can see his whole face.
Dean was more confused now than he was five seconds ago. Story? Why would he tell his little brother a story when they were in the middle of a case? And why does Sam want to hear a story? Sam never wants to hear a story. “Are you high?” Dean asked and Sam just huffed.
It was a late evening when he
found himself stumbling through a crowded dance floor where beer was flying
through the air, it seemed, and the entire place reeked of smoke and weed,
mixed with a tangy odour of vomit coming from somewhere in the corner.
All in all, the place was disgusting
and made Min YoonGi act extra cautious, hovering his hand over the gun on his
waist. How the fuck was he supposed to even find some clients in this dumpster?
Releasing a heavy sigh, YoonGi
slowly tracked to the bar, all the while throwing a careful glance over the
gathered audience, trying to seek out some rich looking bastards- but there was
none. Not this time, anyway.