cries. and his arms ;~~~;

I couldnt sleep last night so I thought up lance coming out to shiro (since that picture where they are together holding the lgbt sign) and it went something like this:

Lance took a deep breath and knocked on Shiro’s door before he had the time to realize how bad of an idea that was and walk away. Shiro opened up and a puzzled expression appeared on his face when he saw who was knocking.

“Lance?”

“Hi, uhm, can i talk to you?”

“Sure,” said Shiro stepping aside to let the boy enter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just… need to say something? I think… I need… advice?”

“Oh, uh, sure, you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah… hmmmm…. I… you know I like girls, right? Like, I reeeaally like girls.”

“Yees…? You kinda remind everyone every single day…”

“Yeah.” Lance laughed nervously, crossing his arms. “I really like girls. I like them so much. I like flirting with them and–”

“Lance”

Lance stopped and stared at his own feet, unable to make himself look at Shiro in the eyes.

“I think I know where you are going with this speech,” said Shiro, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “But I won’t say it for you, so just go ahead and say it, it’s okay.”

“You know?”

“Yeah…? I mean, I get how you must be feeling…”

“Ho… you get it?” Repeated Lance, a confused line between his eyebrows. “You like boys too?”

“What?” Blurted Shiro, eyes widening, “I thought we were talking about Allura!”

“What!” Shrieked Lance, taking a step back, “You like Allura??”

“You like boys??”

Lance laughed nervously, “no way, ha ha, I was joking… jeez, you believed that…” he turned towards the door, wanting nothing more than to lock himself in his room and call himself a dumbass for the rest of the night. This had been a mistake. A huge, nefarious mistake.

“No, Lance, wait!” Shiro called after him, “that came out wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” Said Lance stopping.

“Like it’s a big deal. It’s… okay. If you like boys.”

“Is it?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Because… I like girls.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s just called being bisexual.”

Lance gasped softly. “That’s the word, quiznack,” he whispered, “I knew I heard something like that…”

Shiro smiled. “Lance, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, okay? If you ever feel like telling the rest of the team, know that I’ll be there to help you out and support you. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“Uhm, sure, whatever. Thanks? I guess.”

Shiro covered the few feet that divided them and hugged Lance tightly.

Lance let Shiro squeeze him like an empty toothpaste tube.

“Don’t tell Allura about… you know.” Shiro whispered, without letting him go.

“Sure,” said Lance, fighting for breath, until Shiro loosened his grip, “You don’t tell Keith.”

“What?”

“Omygod.” Lance pulled away, pretending to look at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, “look at time!! I gotta go! Bye Shiro, t'was nice talking to you!” He cried darting out of the door, leaving Shiro with his arms raised and his mouth open.

“Keith?? !”

Obey (Jimin/Reader)

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Prompt: OH GOD WEREWOLF JIMIN AU SMUTSMUTSMUT I’m trash for dominant werewolf Jimin + Can you please write a smut (werewolf! jimin and reader) where he goes into heat, and gets really horny/possessive with the reader? Thank you very much~

Genre: Smut - Werewolf!AU (In Heat)

Words: 2.1K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Summary: Everyone has a bit of sadistic nature buried deep within the confines of their most intimate desires, a dark sensation that consumes the mind, body, and soul when the time is right. For Park Jimin, that animalistic desire was something that had cursed him since the day he first turned eighteen years old, a spark reigniting with each full moon. It devoured him whole, taking complete control of his body until he could quench the nearly insatiable thirst for dominance. 

Tags: Dom!Jimin, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sub!Reader, Orgasm Denial, Dirty Talk, etc. 


Keep reading

Thoughts full

Part 1 || 2

“AHHHH!” A loud shriek pierced the otherwise silent ship, starling the occupants from their state of relaxation. The paladins sprinted towards the source of the sound in a panic, all finding themselves in front of Lance’s door, panting, weapons at the ready.

 Shiro, who arrived first, burst through the door and scanned the room for immediate danger. Seeing the room empty he relaxed and moved further into the room that smelt distinctly of sea. 

 He rushed over to Lance who was slumped over his desk, signs of his previous tasks pushed to the floor, the others close behind. Lance was on the floor, curled up in pain, sweat streamed off him in fountains. 

“Lance? Can you hear me?” Shiro asked firmly, he got no response. He reached his biological hand down and onto Lance’s forehead, hissing as he got burnt. 

“He’s burning.” 

 Hunk ran out in worry, headed for Coran and the healing pods. Shiro quickly picked Lance up but almost dropped him when Lance began thrashing around, weak whimpers making their way through his lips as his face screwed up in pain. 

 The remaining team sprinted out of the room, Shiro careful not to jostle Lance too much as they made their way to the medical bay. Ahead of them they saw Coran quickly setting up one of the pods. 

 "Does he need a suit?“ Pidge asked in a rush and Coran shook his head. 

“We can do that if he needs long term recovery!” Coran said and opened the pod, Shiro handed Lance over to Coran who gently placed him in the pod. It hissed close and immediately began scanning. 

 "What happened to Lance?“ Allura asked after a tense silence, Keith looked up. 

 "We’re not sure,” Keith said and Hunk quickly added on. 

“We just heard his scream and then we found him on the floor,” Hunk said and twisted his fingers together nervously. “Maybe it’s a fit?”

“The pod is almost finished scanning.” Coran said and a loud beep resonated from the machine, the team huddled around as Coran read the symbols popping up on the monitor. Corans twirled his moustache in confusion. “It’s not detecting anything wrong… Just a heightened magnetic energy coming from his brain.”

“What would that mean?” Pidge asked as she tried to read the report. 

“It may be a migraine,” Coran suggested and sighed. “But having him in the pod will not help him any, we’ll have to pull him out.”

“….” The paladins watched in unsure silence as Coran pressed a few buttons and he pod once again opened, Lance slumped out and Coran caught him. He carried him over to a bed and winced when Lance moaned and grasped his head.

“My boy,” Coran whispered and Lance’s eyes slowly- painfully- opened. 

“Coran, my head hurts.” Lance said and winced. “What’s the matter? Why is everyone talking?” 

“No one’s talking.” Shiro whispered and Lance cried out in pain. 

“You’re all talking too much, stop, it hurts.” Lance whined and curled up into himself.

Everyone stayed silent, staring at Lance in worry. 

“Please.” Lance moaned out in pain before his eyes fell shut once more and he slumped into the bed. Everyone looked at each other but before anyone could talk Allura ushered them all except Coran out of the room.

Coran hadn’t the slightest clue what was wrong with the paladin.


Lance awoke, the blank ceiling staring back at him, as if to taunt his existence. He heard whispers, silent murmurs pass through his mind. But he felt nothing but the slight, dull pain in his mind.

He really needed a drink.

So, he got up- wincing at a sudden pain that passed through his mind- and made his way towards the kitchen. The whispers grew louder and Lance tried to block them out- but he couldn’t- they were at the forefront of his mind, demanding attention. He still couldn’t make out what they were, but he had to wonder if he were simply hearing things, if he had gone crazy. Gotten some type of cabin fever in space.

He finally made it to the kitchen but he winced as one of the voices took prevalence over the others, he began to recognise the voice. The worried thoughts, endless with questions, filled with an intelligent undertone. Pidge.

He had no clue why he was hearing Pidge. Maybe he had banged his head, maybe he truely was going crazy. Or maybe Pidge was simply talking loud.

The kitchen was empty when he made it there, he quickly got himself a drink of water before gulping it down and filling the cup once more. Then he made his way out, going in search of the others.

He first found Keith, Keith’s voice got louder and Lance clutched his head in pain. Keith turned and raised his hand to greet Lance but dropped it when Lance ran out of the room.

On his way back to his room he bumped into Pidge. Whispers ran through Lance’s mind like a scream and Lance cried out, unused to the invasion of his mind. Pidge held her arms out for Lance in worry but cried out when he bolted from the scene.

He finally made it to his room, Lance locked the door behind him and slid onto the floor, tears pouring from his blood shot eyes. The whispers in his head calmed down, every now and then a more alert and clear voice would cut through the canopy of murmurs and every time Lance would wince.

He was going crazy. Officially bonkers. Lance pulled at his hair desperately.

‘Where is Lance?’ Lance whipped his head around in search of the posh voice. It was Allura. 

He’s probably in his room.’

There’s no way Lance had heard Allura talking through the door. He was loosing his mind. 

Was this his room?’

Lance shook his head, there was no way he had heard any of that. But surely, a knock sounded and Lance yelped in shock. A variety of sentences came through to Lance’s mind and lance blinked back painful tears. “Lance?” The muffled voice came through the door and Lance wavered.

There were other words being spoken, some he couldn’t catch others he could get a vague meaning of. But none of them spoken aloud, none of them muffled through the metal wall separating them. All of them in Lance’s mind.

Lance opened the door and Allura took in his tearful, dishevelled appearance and blinked in surprise. “Lance, are you feeling fine?” ‘He looks bad, maybe I should cut them all some slack’

“Yeah. It’s just a head ache but the others might appreciate a break too.” Lance answered absent-mindedly.

“Pardon?”‘Did I miss a part of the conversation?’ Now Lance was confused.

“No…. You didn’t miss any of the conversation?” Lance said questioningly and Allura gasped. 

“Did you hear that?” Allura asked and Lance frowned. ‘Can you hear this?’

“Yeah” Lance asked looked at Allura weirdly. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I didn’t say that aloud.” Allura answered and frowned. ‘Watch my lips.’

Her lips didn’t move, not even an inch. Yet he could still hear her. 

“…..” Lance stared at her in horror as more thoughts flooded his mind, thoughts of her home planet, thoughts of her life before. But mainly her hatred for those who destroyed her planet. Hatred for Zarkon.

All thoughts she couldn’t stop, they were a constant stream. Never ending.

“Lance, please don’t freak out, it’ll make this all worse.” Allura tried to calm as she noticed the hazy look in Lance’s eyes. Sweat formed between Lance’s brows and he looked faint. 

“I-I can read- your mind?” Lance questioned and Allura looked as lost. 

“Possibly” Allura said and looked down. ‘I’ll have to see if Coran knows about this.’

Allura left. Lance concentrated on the whispers passing through his mind. They were his teammates.

Hunk’s anxious stream of though. Keith’s brash word. Pidge’s blunt though process and Shiro’s tortured whispers.

All within Lance’s brain, waiting to be deciphered. Lance rubbed his temple, trying to rid the headache.

Lance could read minds.


Lance cautiously made his way down the hallway of the ship, headed to the medical bay. Everyone was already there, waiting for Lance. Lance knew that of course.

He walked through the door and cringed at the flood of voices. Thoughts mixed with real conversation, leaving Lance in a muddled haze.

He could hear many things directed his way, thoughts and actual words as the team crowded around him. 

“My boy,” Coran’s calm voice pierced through the confusion and Lance focused on him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to my voice only.”

The other paladins had stopped talking and Coran walked closer. “Do you feel the separation?”

Lance nodded, feeling the voices recede. There was a distinct wall between his own consciousness and their thoughts.

Coran took Lance’s face into his hands. “Now, focus on pushing the voices away, thickening that wall.”

Lance did as told, pushing his friends worries and thoughts and secrets away. Wincing when a particular thought would yell out. Finally, the thoughts receded and all they were was a small whisper in the back of his mind.

Lance released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and grabbed Coran’s arms for support. “Breathe my boy,” Coran whispered and Lance felt like crying.

The headache was gone. 

“There will always be a wall beween your thoughts and ours,” Coran stated and patted Lance’s back. “Just remember that and use it to control it.”

“How did you know that?” Lance asked after a long pause and Coran smiled sadly.

“I should have realised sooner,” Coran looked down in thought. “It’s a trait the former blue paladin gained, after all.”

Come Back to Me (Part Four)

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: Yes
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Car Accident, Kinda Claustrophobia, Injuries/Bruising, Crying

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

Ever since the night Peter hadn’t come to your house because he was taking care of May two weeks ago, he made sure to send you a text every night to tell you he would be coming over. It made you feel guilty for making him feel bad, but you couldn’t help but be relieved every time your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Tonight when he texted you, it read about a car chase that he was going to try to stop. He said that he probably wouldn’t be over until late, and you sighed, moving from your bed to make yourself another cup of coffee to keep your tiredness at bay.

You walked into your kitchen, thankful both your parents were out of town on a  business trip so you could make all the noise you wanted to. You turned the coffee machine on, waiting for it to heat up, and you opened the cupboard to take out the bag of coffee grains.

You were met with an empty cupboard. You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance, realizing you would have to go out and buy more coffee. Knowing Peter wouldn’t arrive for a while, you decided to take the trip to the convenience store. You went into your room, opening your bedroom window just in case Peter finished earlier than he said he was. You grabbed some money and slipped on a sweatshirt and shoes before venturing off into the dark night.

You warily watched your surroundings as you made your way down the multiple streets towards the convenience store, knowing that someone who Peter would usually go after on a night like this could be lurking around you.

Your nerves stayed on edge until you reached the store with the glowing “Open 24/7″ sign on the door. You allowed yourself to calm down as you walked inside, murmuring a small ‘hello’ to the half-asleep person at the counter who startled awake when the bell over the door rang. You calmly strolled the aisles, looking for the coffee, not in a rush so you could try to waste the time until Peter would be done with his crime-fighting for the night.

When you finally found the aisle with the multiple brands of coffee, you grabbed the bag you always bought and made your way to the counter. The employee only looked mildly annoyed that you had woken him from his nap, but you chose to ignore his slight glare as you reached into your sweatshirt pocket to fish out the ten dollar bill you had grabbed before leaving the house.  

You pulled it out and handed it over to him, and your hand was still in mid-air when you heard a loud screech outside of the store. Both yours and the employee’s heads turned towards the front of the store to look through the large glass windows. The sight in front of the store made you gasp, and the money in your hand fell to the ground beneath you. 

Two cars sped through the street coming towards the convenience store, and behind them, was Spiderman. He swung from buildings, trying to catch up to the fast-paced cars. He reached the one closest to him and knocked the driver out, but the car lost control without anyone operating it and slammed into the first car. The cars neared closer and closer to the convenience store as the shock of the second car slamming into the first one registered onto the first driver’s face. The surprise distracted him, causing him to turn around and look at the damage, but he didn’t have enough time to turn before the convenience store doors were right in front of his face. 

Spiderman was behind them, trying to web the car backwards before it could make impact, but it was too late. 

You watched as the cars neared closer, and you tried to run to the other side of the store so you wouldn’t be in the direct line of damage, but it seemed as though it happened in seconds.

The cars were too quick, and you watched them smash through the storefront and into the first three aisles of the store. You were in the fourth aisle. The impact caused a domino effect, each aisle falling backwards onto each other, and the third falling onto you. You fell to the ground, yelping as you slammed to the ground and felt an immediate, painful weight on top of your back. 

You began to panic when you tried to move but couldn’t budge. You tried to lift yourself up, but the weight of two aisles-worth of shelves on top of you was too much for your strength. The panic led to fear, and the fear led to tears forming in your eyes as you still struggled to move. 

“Help!” You yelled, beginning to sob when you heard nothing in response. You were sure the boy at the counter had escaped through the back door. You were all alone.

“Help!” You screamed louder, hoping for someone to hear you. You knew Peter wouldn’t just leave something like this as his duty as Spiderman. He would have to come in and see if anyone was hurt. He would have to.

“Help, please,” you said, the volume in your voice lowering as your sobs overwhelmed you. “Peter,” you cried even harder, waiting for him to come and save you. “Peter, please,” you began to hyperventilate as the thought of being trapped under here for a prolonged period of time entered your mind.

You sobbed and cried and yelled for who knows how long until you heard his voice. “Hello? Is anyone in here? Hello?” He sounded panicked as well, and you were sure he had heard the loud sobbing from inside the store with the enhanced hearing his suit gave him.

“Peter!” You sobbed loudly, and you were met with silence for a few moments, until you heard a soft, “(Y/N)?”

“Peter,” you replied, still sobbing, but you began to feel relief after hearing his voice. “Peter, help me. Please.”

You heard him rustle around, trying to find the source of your voice. “I’m coming, (Y/N), it’s okay. I’m right here.”

You continued to cry until you heard him come closer to you. “I’m gonna lift this up now, okay?” He said with a calm voice, though you were sure you could hear some panicked undertones mixed in.

“Okay,” you said, voice shaking and cracking. When you felt your back be relieved of the weight, you expected to be relieved of pain along with it. You were wrong. If anything, the pain was worse without the heavy weight to distract you from it, and you cried out as various spots in your back began to throb with pain.

“Are you okay?!” Peter asked, the panic more evident in his voice. 

“It hurts,” you cried, moving your sore arm to hold your back now that it wasn’t trapped down anymore. You heard a loud crash and looked up to see Peter had pushed the two aisles to the opposite direction. He knelt down next to you, and although you couldn’t see his facial expression through the mask, you could tell by his shaky breathing that he was worried.

“I’m gonna try to pick you up now, just stay still for me,” he whispered and wrapped one arms around your legs. He wrapped the other around your back, and you cried out again, but he didn’t move his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, the panic in his voice now replaced with heavy guilt. He stood up with you in his arms, and the movement made the pain in your back even worse, but you bit your lip to try to silence the whimpers. You continued to cry. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m right here, (Y/N),” he whispered to you, but you kept on crying. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), look at me for a second,” he said, and you looked up at him to see him pulling up the mask to his forehead. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m right here with you. Now stop crying,” he began to whisper, and he pressed his forehead against yours. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and it served as a good distraction. Your tears began to stop. “Just hold onto me, okay?” 

You hummed a quiet “mhm”, and Peter pulled his forehead away from where it was resting against yours. He pushed his mask back over his face, and as he ran out of the store, you looked at the damage behind you. You noticed both of the men webbed inside of their respective cars, one conscious and one not, with a note on the first car. You couldn’t bring it in yourself to try to read it. 

Peter adjusted his grip on you to only one arm wound tightly around your waist as he used the other to swing from building to building quickly. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, not wanting to see the distance between the two of you and the ground. You kept your head tucked into his neck, and when you felt him softly land on ground, you looked up to be met with your bedroom.

Peter gently set you down on your bed, and you winced when his arm grazed your back as he set you down. He turned around, ripping his mask off his face and throwing it onto your desk. He turned on your lamp and closed your bedroom door. He leaned his head against the door, his back facing you, breathing heavily. He stayed that way for a few minutes, and although it may have been silent to him, your heartbeat in your ears was beating too loudly for you to have realized he began to speak.

He had turned around and was now looking at you with furrowed eyebrows and watery eyes. You turned your head toward him. “Did you say something?”

“Turn on your stomach,” he said, walking to your bedside. You followed his words, grimacing as you turned around. You breathed heavily, clenching your teeth to not make any noises that showed your pain. “Can I lift your shirt up a little bit?” He asked, and when you nodded, you felt his hands lift your sweatshirt up a small amount. You suddenly felt nervous, and your bedroom felt all too small for only the two of you. 

Peter breathed out heavily from behind you and you turned your head to look at him. You saw the guilt evident on his face. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered, clearly trying not to cry. “This is all my fault.”

“Take a picture of it, I want to see it,” you said, handing him your phone from your sweatshirt pocket. You noticed it was now slightly cracked, and you sighed, knowing it was from the impact of falling to the ground. He took it from you, taking the picture and handing it back to you.

You gasped when you saw the image on the screen. Your back was covered in small cuts everywhere, and the entirety of it was already starting to become purple. You sighed, turning around again and wincing. “It’s not your fault, Peter.”

He shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but he closed it when you took his hand in yours. You tugged his arm towards you, signaling that you wanted him to get into bed next to you. He let go of your hand and turned your lap off before stealthily crawling over you without touching you. He laid down beside you. You turned on your side to lay your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you did so. 

You didn’t care that this was probably crossing every boundary you had set in your mind about him, but you didn’t care. You needed the comfort right now.

“Thank you for saving me, Peter,” you whispered into the darkness. You heard him sniffle from above you, and you wiped at your cheeks to get rid of the stains of dried tears.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he whispered in reply. “I never wanted me being Spiderman to harm you in any way. This happened because of me.”

“No, it didn’t,” you said in return, slapping him lightly on the chest to try to make light of the situation. He didn’t laugh, and you sighed. “You were trying to get dangerous people off the street. And you succeeded, you caught them. It just took a slightly wrong turn. But everyone is okay.”

“You got hurt,” his voice cracked and he turned his head away from you to face the wall. 

“I’m okay, Pete,” you whispered, lifting your head up and lightly turning his head towards yours with your hand. “You were the one who got me out of there. You saved me, okay?”

He sniffled again, a tear falling down his cheek. You wiped it away.

“Why are you crying?” You were still whispering, and the two of you still stared into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he said, and looked down to avoid your eyes. You thought you could see a light blush on his cheeks, but it was too dark to tell. “Hearing you cry and yell my name like that, it just- I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“Peter,” you said, slightly louder. He looked back up at you. “It’s just some bruises. They’ll go away.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding, trying to convince himself. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

He looked away again, clenching his jaw to prevent himself from crying anymore. You rested your head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat through the suit. The two of you laid there in silence, resting, and as you began to feel yourself doze off in his arms, he moved from under you. He began to take his arm away from around your shoulders, and you were wide awake instantly. 

“Where are you going?” You asked groggily, pressing a hand down on his chest to keep him from moving. You couldn’t see him in the darkness, but you were sure he was bewildered. 

“I, uh, I was gonna head back home,” Peter whispered.

You moved your hand up to his shoulder, grasping it lightly. “Not yet. Please just stay a little longer,” you whispered in response. “Please.” You could see him nodding back.

“Okay,” he said softly, wrapping his arm back around your shoulders and resting his head back on the pillows. 

“Okay,” you said, resting your head on his chest again. You dozed back off, and the last thing you could remember was Peter pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering, “Goodnight.”

When you woke up in the morning, he was still next to you.

*************************
Alright guys, I’m not going to lie. I really like how this one turned out. I’d love to know what you guys think about it. Feel free to also let me know if you’d want another part :) Requests are open!!

~e

Regarding Dean

Characters:  Dean, Reader, Sam

Summary:  Sam calls reader to babysit Dean after he’s cursed by a witch.

Warnings:  Angst-ish

Word Count:  1776

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Regarding Dean

The screen lights up on your phone, Sam Winchester’s name flashing on the screen.This can’t be good, otherwise Sam would never, ever call you. Not after everything that happened. Should you answer? You don’t really want to dredge all that shit up. But if he’s calling, it’s important. You’re thumb hovers over the green button. It’s on the third ring before you decide to answer.  

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? It’s me, Sam. Please, don’t hang up, just hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thank…thank you. Listen, I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t need help, you know that I wouldn’t. But I need you.”

———–

You can’t figure out how Sam knows you’re in the area. You haven’t had contact with Dean or Sam for over year. Is he still keeping tabs on you through the hunter network?  It’s touching in a way, you’ve always had a soft spot for Sammy. Truth is, you miss him.

Why the fuck are you driving to the motel right now? Why would you willingly put yourself in this position? Must be temporary insanity. It’s the only logical explanation. Maybe you should drive straight to the psych ward and check yourself in after this is over.

Keep reading

Stormy Nights (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Richie and Eddie are both teenagers (roughly 16) and both of their family lives are getting worse, particularly Richie’s. One night Richie cant take it anymore and sneaks through Eddie’s window to stay the night.

Warning(s): Mentions of emotional and mental abuse, cussing, FLUFF/ANGST??? fuck i love reddie

A/N: Hello all! My main account is @edsrich and I wont be posting my imagines for IT here anymore is based around marvel-  but I created this one here! And I livE AND BREATHE for Reddie.  Yes, this takes place whilst the Losers Club are all in their teen years, frankly because I find it easier to write certain things that aren’t as cute and innocent (despite Richie & the other boys being fAR from iNNocent). I hope you enjoy! Feedback, positive and negative is appreciated!

Eddie laid in bed watching ‘Little Shop of Horrors’, whilst wearing a navy shirt and oversized sweats to keep him comfy. It was currently 9PM on a random Wednesday in the middle of Summer, today was a basic day; it involved hanging out with Bill and Richie for the day as Stan, Ben and Mike were busy. 

Ever since the incident that happened back in 1989, some had became distant from the group more than others. Beverly moved away the day after the losers defeated Pennywise itself, whilst Stan slowly distanced himself and Mike seemed to be working a lot. Ben was just busy on this random day and couldn’t hang out with the other boys.

Eddie rumbles a grunt in the back of his throat, sitting up and adjusting his white pillowcases in a more comfortable position and he places his smaller frame back down onto his mattress and continues to watch ‘Little Shop of Horrors’. 

Ripples of lightning sliced through the cloud smothered sky, alongside with the summer showers that poured down upon the town of Derry, which alone created a moody atmosphere for Eddie. Eddie flinched as the crackles from the rumbling thunder shocked him every now and then. Branches tapped against his window as the wind swirled them against the glass repeatedly, too startling the teen.

Suddenly, a large bang- much larger than the small twigs- impacted the glass of the window, causing Eddie to squeak.

The startled boy frantically looked to where the noise was, only to see large bulky glasses and brown curly hair. Richie.

Eddie, at first, thought he was seeing things-  which caused him to raise his hands and wipe his eyes from the sleep that stuck in his inner corners, but to no avail- it was Richie, soaked for that matter.

Eddie stood up, walking over to his window and slowly and silently opened the window- careful not to wake his over protective mother, he quickly helped his best friend into his room with a soft grunt and no noise from Richie.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie whispered a bit, rain splatting his pale cheeks before quickly shutting the window before any more rain flew inside.

“It’s nice to see you too, Eds.” Richie mumbled, for once not making a snarky remark.

Eddie went over to his door, shutting it before looking over his shoulder. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The corner of Richie’s lips tugged up into his signature smirk at Eddie’s signature remark to his own, as he removed his thick rimmed glasses, attempting to wipe away the droplets that stuck to his lenses. He pushed his fingers inside of his wet shirt and rubbed the material against the glass, his attempts failing.

“Here, hold on.” Eddie sighed, walking up to the taller boy and taking the glasses away and using his own shirt to smear away the droplets, this time much more successfully.

Richie watched, his tongue poking his cheek with his thoughts all over the place- but continued to keep remotely silent unless he was spoken too.

Eddie finished cleaning his friends glasses, before holding them up and putting them on Richie’s face for him, a confused look remaining on his face as he watches Richie’s eyes grow larger due to the lenses that were suited for his eye sight.

“What happened, Richie? Why are you here- I-I mean, I’m not complaining but this is just fucking unusual.” Eddie rambled a bit, a voice crack slipping into his sentance 

This caused Richie to smirk despite the emotions he currently was feeling, Eddie knew his background and what his family was like. He knew his Mother was an alcoholic and that his Father was just plain cruel to him for no apparent reason. Both parents had in fact told him this very night that they would’ve rather had a daughter than for him to even exist. Sure, his Mother was drunk; his Father was beyond stressed, but he was sober and agreed with every word that his Mother slurred.

Not to mention, ‘a drunken mans words is a sober mans thoughts’, even if his Mother wasn’t a man.

“It was them again, Eds.”

Eddie chose to ignore the nickname that he had a love-hate feeling for, instead becoming concerned, “Who?” 

Richie sighed, “Mom and Dad, as fucking usual. I fucking hate them.” His cusses had a bite to them, the brown hairs of his eyebrows furrowing more and more.

Eddie quickly realised the situation, “Oh shit, alright- fuck, um, do you want some of my clothes to sleep in?”

Richie smiled genuinely, glad he had Eddie as his friend. “Yeah.”

Eddie nodded, turning and kneeling as he dug through his pyjama’s drawer, nervously shoving away the porno magazines that were messily tossed at the top of the pile. He as a teenage boy had his needs, but that wasn’t what he was embarrassed about showing or even Richie seeing- he was embarrassed incase Richie saw that his porn stash wasn’t full of lewd pictures of women, but of the opposite gender.

Richie looked around the familiar bedroom, seeing posters of movies that Eddie was fond of and even photographs of him in his childhood and with his friends, being Bill, Stan and himself with Eddie dangling on the end next to Richie.

Richie’s eyes then snapped to the cheap TV, smirking to himself. “Little Shop of Horrors? Really? This is what you come home to and watch for fun?”

Eddie frowned, without looking at Richie. “Little Shop of Horrors is in fact, one of the best movies of all time.” 

“No, Eds, it’s one of your best movies that you like. Hell, it’s a damn musical.” Richie snickered.

“Actually, Richie, it’s labelled as a Science Fiction and Romance movie, which to me is quite entertaining.”

“But it’s funny because you’re watching a movie with ‘Horror’ in the title.”

“Now why is that funny?” Eddie spoke stubbornly, standing up and turning to look at his friend with a shirt and sweatpants in his arms.

“Because you cried in fear watching Jaws, Eds.” 

Heat rose to Eddie’s cheeks, scoffing as he didn’t push the subject any more and dropped the clothes onto his bed.

“I’ll just turn around whilst you change, you can’t leave this room just incase my Mom comes in and see’s you.”

“Your Mom has already seen all of me, Eds.”

“That’s so not funny.” Eddie grumbled angrily, his nose lightly scrunching up at Richie’s words.

Richie rolled his eyes smugly, smirking towards his friend. “Whatever Eds, I’m sure you’ll be tempted to turn around.”

The heat flared even more on Eddie’s cheeks, his eyebrows furrowing and turning around. “Whatever, shut up and change.”

Richie stared at the small boys frame, his eyes wandering for a second as he began to strip and too turning away to look out the window. Awkward silence filled the air, the two boys hearts pounding profusely for each other, without the other knowing it yet.

Richie holds up the shirt once the sweat pants are slid on in front of his bare chest, tilting his head. 

“Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Eddie turns around, again- his heart pounding in his throat and his blush spreading to his chest. “Put it on, asshole!”

“I don’t like sleeping in shirts dude, you know this.” Richie partly whined this comment, stomping his bare foot lightly against the creaking wood beneath him.

Eddie hesitated his words, “Fine, but don’t be fucking creepy about it.”

Richie hummed in satisfaction, plotting his rear on the bed that belonged to his best friend, bouncing on it for a second. “Your bed is comfy.”

“Oh, thanks?” Eddie tilted his head in confusion before sighing and going to his VHS system, “Since you’re a huge hater on Little Shop of Horror’s, what do you want to watch?”

Richie stood up, walking behind the smaller boy with one hand on the upper side of his body and looking over his shoulder at the selection of VHS tapes to choose from, causing Eddie to stiffen up at first, only centre-meters were between Richie’s bare chest and Eddie’s back. “What do you have for me to choose from?”

“U-Uh, I got Star Wars, Dirty Dancing- um, Back to the Future, Batman-”

“Hold up, did you say Dirty Dancing?”

“Yes, I did. It is a beautiful romance musical about dirty dancing, what more could you want?” Eddie spoke with annoyed sarcasm, frowning, “Just because it’s in my collection, doesn’t mean I watch it dumbass.”

Richie grinned at Eddie’s temper flaring slightly, “Calm down, Eds. Its fine if you want to watch dirty dancing at 1AM, we all understand.” Richie teased, “How about we watch Batman?”

Eddie ignored Richie’s teases once again, before nodding and grapping the VHS tape that was labelled ‘Batman’, taking out Little Shop of Horrors and sliding in the new tape.

The rain poured down heavier and violently pitter pattered against the window, the cold air chilling the two boys equally.

“Nice weather we’re having, don’t you agree?”

“Fucking lovely.” Eddie retorted, chuckling a bit and responding with equal sarcasm.

The two eventually laid down side by side on the bed side by side with the lights off and Batman playing in front of them in low quality. Their arms grazed each other every now and then, as well as their legs too.

“I’m sorry about what happened with your parents.” Eddie whispered over the film’s sound.

Richie took his eyes away from the screen, looking down at his friend. “Don’t be, they’re assholes.”

“They are, but you don’t deserve that shit.”

“Yeah, neither do you though. Your Mom’s a bitch too.” Richie sighed this out, inching closer to Eddie.

“I know but, both of your parents… you know-”

“Hate me, yeah I get it.” Richie mumbled, “I’m not surprised, I’m a shit son. I’d hate me too.”

Eddie sits up lightly, frowning at Richie’s harsh words that were stabs at himself. “Not everyone hates you Richie.”

“I’m annoying, I put up this stupid act and I make unnecessary dick jokes all the time.”

“I don’t hate you…” Eddie trailed off, blushing a bit but hoping it was hidden by the dark room. 

“It’s actually weird to hear someone say that to me, considering I get it all the time.” Richie chuckled dryly, sighing and tilting his head back. “Thankyou, Eds.”

Eddie didn’t even care in this moment that he was called ‘Eds’, but instead rested his head against Richie’s bare chest. Richie was at first startled with wide eyes, his cheeks becoming red instantly. But soon settled, his heart beating heavily and resting one arm around Eddie. His only hope was that Eddie couldn’t hear his heart.

Batman continued to play lowly in the background, but the boys only solely focused on each other and nothing else. Both becoming sleepy as the night carried on and it became later and later, both laying with each other like never before.

Eventually, Richie used his free arm to take his glasses away from his eyes and places them on the side table of Eddie’s bed quietly, yawning whilst Eddie snuggled a little closer sleepily, with lidded eyes.

“You know, Eds? I’m really fucking glad I have you in my life.” Richie whispers to a half asleep Eddie.

Eddie just about lets out a dazed smile with closed eyes, “I love you too, Richie.”

Richie’s cheeks steam up, his eyes widening a bit and he slowly shifts his eyes to the boys well kept head of hair, rubbing his fingers into his shoulder and pulling him closer as Eddie, unknown of confessing his feelings, drifts into a sleep.

Richie then, noticing that his best friend has fallen asleep- leans down carefully, without wakening him, and then presses his chapped lips that had a small taste of cigarettes and candyfloss against Eddie’s temple.

“I love you more, Eds.”

Two Beers and the Truth

An extremely late birthday fic for @wrathofthestag, who shares my hopes for Coach and Bitty. Here’s a little fic about how I hope the summer goes for the Bittle Clan…

         Bitty knew that coming out to coach would end one of three ways.

         The first scenario was the one that had kept him silent since middle school when he realized that it didn’t matter how many girls stole kisses from him, he just wasn’t interested. He could see Coach’s face turning to stone, the way it did when the Dawgs lost a game in overtime, and hear his father’s steely voice proclaiming I have no son. Some nights he would still wake up shaking when he thought about that scenario, if he was lucky, Jack would be there to gather him up and mutter soothing bits of nonsense into his hair as he trembled.

         The second scenario was more likely, but still not something Bitty was looking forward to. Coach would press his lips together until they disappeared behind his mustache, then nod with a resigned air. If he was lucky, Bitty would get an awkward slap on the back and Coach would mutter something Suzanne told him Oprah said to say. It would be disappointment, but acceptance. Some days Bitty wondered if that wouldn’t be worse than outright anger.

         The third scenario Bitty blamed on Chowder, who seemed to think everyone in the world would be thrilled with a gay son. In this dream setup, Coach cried, opening his arms to his son and assuring Bitty that he could never be prouder of a child. They would cry together, then, hugged up on the porch swing, talking about life and maybe boys.

         Bitty bit his lip, wondering which scenario he would be living through. He rolled his shoulder, preparing for a disappointed pat. He glanced at his mother in the kitchen.

         With a sigh, Suzanne moved to the refrigerator, picking out two beers and holding them out to Bitty. She kissed his forehead. “Go on, I’ll be doing dishes if you need me.”

         Bitty nodded and looked toward the porch again.

         “I can do this,” he muttered. “For me. For Jack.”

Keep reading

Unappreciated

Note: hi sweetie! i’m sorry this took a while! i hope you like it! i’m sorry it’s long. i love all feedback! feel free to leave a comment! ♥ .c

Request: Hiii :) I really enjoy your writing and I just wanted to ask if you could do a Bucky imagine where he doesn’t notice her and treats her badly, despite the fact that she does so much for him and he takes her for granted and he only realizes how much he needs her when she gets terribly hurt. Thank you so much 💖



It all started when the super soldier moved into the tower. You couldn’t help but want to get to know him better, though you’ve heard a lot from people in the city streets and the News. But you knew he was more than a Hydra experiment, a brainwashed man who had no choice in the matter, he needed help and you wanted to make his life all the more better.

You were always extremely nice and it took a lot for someone to bring your spirits down, you wanted to help everyone be happy and be okay. Though you knew people needed time and space, they would always come to you for a shoulder to cry on.

Which is why you ended up being there for Bucky; you knew he needed that. You always welcomed him in the mornings with breakfast and a small note containing an uplifting quote. He wouldn’t say anything, he would just give you a tight lipped smile and shut his door in your face. You would shrug it off and tell yourself he wasn’t a morning person.


You were in the kitchen, bright and early, getting Bucky’s breakfast ready. It was nearing 8am and he usually gets up at this time, so you were hoping to get everything done on time. You decided to go with bacon, eggs, grits, and toast. You heard footsteps approaching as you were flipping over the fried eggs, having finished with the grits and bacon already.

You turned with a smile to see Steve and Sam groggily walking in, their pajamas wrinkled and their hair all crazy. “You still make Barnes breakfast?” Sam asked through a rather long yawn. You giggled and nodded. “Yeah, of course!” You said with a chipper attitude. Steve shoved his muscular body onto a stool at the kitchen island, resting his head on his hand.

You turned back to the food and finally got everything ready on a plate and a tray. “Y/N, you’ve done this for like 5 months.” Steve commented as you started to write down an uplifting quote. You shrugged and set the corner of the note under his cup of black coffee. “So?” You asked with a small smile. Steve sighed and shook his head.

Without another word, you slipped off your apron and headed to the elevator, humming as you made your way to Bucky’s room. You walked down the hallway and suddenly Bucky’s door opened, his body leaning against the door frame. You smiled and wiggled your finger at Bucky as he met your eyes. “Hey, Bucky! How’d you sleep?” You asked, walking over to him.

Bucky looked at the tray and nodded. “Fine. This all?” Bucky asked, pointing at the tray. It was a good bit of food you thought. “Oh, did-did you need more?” You asked, your eyebrows raised. Bucky’s eyes lingered on your face before he took the tray from you. “No, this is fine. See ya!” Bucky said before walking back into his room, leaving his door slightly cracked.

You bit your lip as you tapped your fingers against your thighs, slightly peeking into his room. He sat down at his desk and picked up the note you left. “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places. Ernest Hemingway.” Bucky mumbled. You smiled but it slightly faltered as you watched him scoff and crumble the note, throwing it away.

You sighed and walked away with a shrug, leaving Bucky to enjoy his meal.


You were in the laundry room now, having picked up Bucky’s basket of clean clothes. You picked up on doing his laundry after helping him clean up after a mission. He didn’t seem to mind, so you continued doing it. You tossed his clothes in the basket so you could fold them in his room.

With a smile, you skipped out of the room and bumped into the man himself. “Oof!” You huffed, stumbling back, thankfully having a good grip on the basket. Bucky caught your arm before you could fall and you giggled. “Sorry! I didn’t see you coming.” You said, a light blush dusting your cheeks. Bucky cleared his throat and looked down at the basket. “It’s all good. These done?” Bucky asked with a dull tone.

You nodded energetically. “Yep! I can fold them if you want.” You offered with a smile. Bucky shook his head. “I got it this time.” Bucky said as he took the basket from your hands. He turned and left, stalking off down the hallway. You watched after him, seeing his tense back muscles. Following after him, you rounded the corner just fast enough to run into the elevator.

Bucky moved a little away from you as if to give you more space. You smiled up at him. “I couldn’t help but notice you look a little tense.” You said softly, stepping towards Bucky. He looked down at you with furrowed eyebrows. “And?” He snapped, taking you aback. “Oh, um, well, I was just going to offer a back massage.” You said a little softer now.

And that’s how you ended up sitting butt on butt on top of Bucky, your hands digging into his back muscles. Groan after groan fell from his lips and you smiled. “Feeling better?” You asked, circling your thumbs into a tight knot just below his shoulder blade. Bucky made a grunting noise in response.

You continued for a few more minutes and rubbed in some soothing essential oils into his skin before climbing off of him. He sat up and stretched. “That was amazing, wow.” Bucky said, a small smile spreading on his lips. You capped your oils and smiled. “I’ll see you around.” Bucky said as he slipped his shirt back on.

You watched him leave his bedroom and you stood there awkwardly. Bucky never thanked you for things like this and it was starting to get to you. You do this to make him feel better and it clearly does that for him, but he never shows gratitude. Bucky just leaves and comes back for this special treatment.

A sigh fell from your lips and small hint of sadness started to hit you. You shook it off with a smile and left Bucky’s room to do some other things on your to-do list.


A few days had passed and you still do the same things for Bucky. You recently started to comfort him during the night when he has nightmares. It was hard to see him writhing around, screaming at the top of his lungs, begging for his life. You couldn’t help but…help him.

You rushed into Bucky’s room and saw his large body squirming around, broken screams and strangled cries coming from his mouth. It broke your heart to see him like this. You knelt on his bed and rested your hand on his shoulder. His skin was burning and sweaty as he thrashed around. “Bucky, it’s okay. Please, wake up!” You said softly, brushing his hair off of his sticky forehead.

It took a little coaxing but he shot up, almost knocking his head against yours. Bucky breathed heavily, his eyes searching for the danger he thought he was in. After seeing he was safe, he looked at you. Before you could ask if he was alright, he pulled you into his body. “Shh, you’re okay.” You whispered as he cried into your shoulder.

Bucky held onto you and you rubbed his head, your arms wrapped around him. “I promise you’re safe, Bucky.” You whispered soothingly. He hesitantly nodded and sighed into you. His arms held you closer as he continued to calm down. “That’s it.” You softly praised Bucky, his hands releasing their tight hold on your shirt.

You held him close and whispered soothing things in his ear, gently stroking his hair. Bucky clung to you, his breathing coming to a smooth rhythm. “Please, stay.” You barely heard Bucky mumble, his face nuzzled into your chest. “I will.” You whispered back, holding him tightly as you both fell asleep.


Bucky woke up with you draped across his chest, your breathing steady and soft, the little air coming from your nose tickling his skin. His heart fluttered as he stared at your face, peacefulness resting on your features. Bucky reached his hand to your face, outlining the curve of your jaw. The twitch of your lips made him feel something he’s never felt before. And boy did it scare him.

Bucky suddenly pulled out of your hold and stood out of his bed quickly, startling you out of your sleep. You groaned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, sitting up in Bucky’s bed. “Bucky?” You asked, yawning into your hand. “Get out.” Bucky rasped, slipping on a clean shirt. His previous shirt was discarded on his floor from his body sweating him out.

You looked at him, concern all over your face. “What?” You questioned, moving his blankets off of you. Bucky was breathing heavily and he turned to you. “Why do you help me? Why do you do things for me?” Bucky asked, raking his hand through his hair. You smiled a little. “I just want you to-” “-to be happy? To get better?” Bucky finished your sentence. He scoffed and shook his head.

You stood to your feet and walked over to Bucky slowly. You reached out to hold his arm but he jerked it away, his eyes looking into yours. “Y/N, stop! Just go! I don’t need you!” Bucky yelled at your face, causing you to flinch. The wave of sadness hit you again, twice as much this time. You frowned and retracted your outreached hand, your fingers trembling.

Bucky turned his back to you and you backed away from him, leaving his room. What was wrong with him? What did you do? You thought helping him and showing kindness towards him would get him to open up to you. You didn’t know it was making things worse. He never thanked you for anything and you let it go, excusing his ungratefulness as just having a wall built up.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went your room, locking yourself in there to get ready for the day. You sat on your balcony a little while later and looked out at the cloudy sky. The city below was busy as ever and you usually felt happy watching the people far below, but now, you didn’t feel it.

Your lip quivered the longer you thought about this morning. You just wanted to help him and make him look forward to something nice in the mornings and during the day. The quotes were to help him realize he’s not as weak and broken as he thinks.

A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts and you sighed, walking into your bedroom. You opened your door and saw Steve standing there in his suit. “Hey-wait, what’s wrong?” Steve asked quickly, seeing your watery eyes. You’ve never cried in front of the team, and you never did at all, really. It took a lot for you to get like this and Bucky did it so easily.

Steve stuck his shield to his back and held your shoulders. “Y/N, talk to me.” Steve pleaded, his blue eyes searching yours. You took a deep breath and swallowed thickly. “Bucky, he-he just got angry this morning. I-I heard him having a nightmare last night so I did what I do best and helped him. He shot out of bed and yelled for me to get out.” You explained, holding in the sob  that wanted to desperately escape.

You sniffled and Steve bent to give you a tight hug. “You’ve done so much for him, Y/N. He still needs time.“ Steve said quietly. You nodded, your arms around his neck. “He’s never shown any gratitude. I figured he just needed that shell to break.” You said, your voice shaking. Steve sighed and pulled away from you. “I’ll talk to him.” Steve said as his frown deepened.

You shook your head quickly, “No, don’t worry about it.” You sniffled again. “Is there a mission?” You asked as your eyes fell to his suit again. Steve slapped his hand against his forehead. “Shoot! Yeah, I need you for guard duty. Nat is coming along to gather information.” Steve explained as you listened closely.

After suiting up and pushing your thoughts about Bucky aside, you walked out of your room and gathered around the team in the common room.

“This should be really easy, you know what to do.” Tony said, speaking to Steve. The others wished you good luck, all except Bucky. He was off to the side, arms crossed and brows creased. He looked troubled, almost like he wanted to say something. You glanced over at him and his eyes met yours, only to flicker away.

You sighed and Nat walked over to you, linking her arm with yours. “Steve told me what happened. I need you to focus, okay?” Nat whispered, her eyes soft. You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I know.” You said softly.

Steve finished talking with Tony and you all set out on the mission. It took about 4 hours to get there and you had to walk down a wooded trail to get to the base. You were crouched down with Steve and Nat, guns aimed with silencers. “Ready.” Steve said, cocking his gun. You all had to take out the guards out front, so you readied your gun and aimed for any guard you laid eyes on.

You took them down in record time and slowly made your way to the base. Steve kicked in the door and you shot down a guard inside, watching his body instantly fall to the ground. “Okay, Nat you know what to do. I’m right beside you.“ Steve said, leaving you outside to keep watch.

You looked around, keeping your eyes focused and your gun ready. You could hear Steve and Natasha fighting throughout the base in your comm, grunts and hits coming from them. Still looking around the area, you noticed a small movement in the woods in front of you. Your heart jumped in your chest as you slowly held your gun up, scanning the area.

Steve grunted into your comm and you heard Nat yelling curse words. “Y/N! We need you in here!” Steve yelled, his shielding ricocheting off a wall, hitting a guard. Before you replied, you quickly scanned the area once more, hoping it was just an animal you saw rustling in the woods. “I’m coming.” You responded, retreating backwards and turning into the building.

As you walked down the hallways that was covered with dead bodies, you listened for your teammates. “Where are you guys?” You asked, stopping as you approached another hallway. “Take the stairs,we’re on the second floor,” Steve grunted loudly, “There’s a lot more guards than we thought!” Steve called out, gunshots ringing through your comm.

You quickly ran to the door that held the staircase behind it and made your way up, hoping you got there in time. You could hear Steve and Natasha yelling, their weapons going off. “Guys, I’m almost there!” You yelled, keeping a tight grip on your gun. You finally reached the top of the stairs and rounded to the second floor.

You immediately started shooting at any enemy you laid your eyes on. Steve was going to hand to hand with a guard, his shield stuck in the concrete wall. You quickly glanced at Natasha after shooting two more guards down. She used her signature move on one guard and round house kicked another, knocking them both out cold.

A guard to your left aimed his gun at you and you were able to shoot him first, the bullet piercing through his chest. “Nice!” Steve yelled, a smile on his face. He twisted the guards neck and sighed out, pulling his shield from the wall. Natasha finished off the guards around her and you looked around, seeing all of the lifeless bodies.

You wiped your brow and took a deep breath. “Okay, now that that’s over, there should be a vault in the room.” Natasha said, her boots clicking as she walked towards the door, moving around the bodies. 

Steve didn’t lie when he said there were a lot more than they thought. Nat kicked open the door, holding her gun up. “All clear.” She said into her comm. Steve joined her in the room, helping her open the safe.

Putting your gun in your holster, you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve and Nat to finish. A deep chuckle came from behind you, making your heart jump. You whipped around just in time to feel a bullet pierce through your abdomen. You gasped, looking down at the blood starting to pour out of you. “Y/N!” You heard Steve and Nat yell, Steve taking the guard down.

You fell to your knees and the two rushed over to you, Steve grasping hold of your body before you fell onto the floor. “Shit!” Nat yelled, holstering her gun. 

You were breathing heavily, though every breath you took made your body ache and the pain worsen. “St-Steve.” You winced, squeezing your eyes shut. Applying pressure to your wound, Steve rushed you out of the room.

Steve was yelling at Nat to call Bruce, to tell him you need him as soon as you land. “Y/N, you have to stay awake!” Steve yelled, shaking you lightly enough to make your eyes peel open. You felt Nat’s hand putting more pressure on your wound and looked down, your bodysuit a dark color from the blood. The pain was unbearable, the last thing you heard was Nat and Steve calling your name.


The jet landed and Steve carried you out, meeting Bruce on the roof with a gurney. “She-Bruce, please.” Steve sobbed as he looked down at your pale face. You looked lifeless, just like the enemies you had taken out. “I’ll take care of her.” Bruce assured Steve, quickly rolling your body away.

Nat took a deep breath as they walked into the elevator after Bruce had wheeled you inside and took it down to the medic room. “She can’t die.” Steve’s body shook with another sob and Nat looked up at him, her own eyes threatening to spill with tears. “She won’t. Not Y/N.” Nat whispered, scared her voice would break her tough facade.

The two walked into the common room and met with the others. “Hey! You’re back!” Sam cheered but stopped when he looked at Steve and Nat’s faces. “What happened?” Tony asked, taking his glasses off. “Whose blood is that?” Clint asked, causing Steve and Nat to look at your blood on their hands. Wanda stepped forward. “Where’s Y/N?” She asked nervously. Bucky entered the room and noticed how quiet it was. “What, did someone die or something?” He asked jokingly.

Bucky looked at Steve, his smile dropping. Bucky took in everyone’s scared expressions. He looked around for you, but he knew something was wrong when he didn’t see your bright and beautiful smile greeting him like you always did. 

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked, feeling his heart starting to beat fast. Steve shook his head and tried to speak, but nothing came out. Steve looked at his bloody hands again and his lip trembled. Bucky gasped, his eyes falling to Steve’s hands. “No. She’s-Steve, don’t do that to me.” Bucky said, shaking his head, his knees feeling weak.

Nat walked over to Bucky and looked at him sadly. “Bucky, she got shot. Bruce is taking care of her now.” Nat explained as best she could, her voice shaking. Bucky noticed the blood on her hands too as tears filled his eyes. “If this is-is some sort of sick joke.“ Bucky choked out, a lump forming in his throat.

Steve sniffled and shook his head. “Buck, it’s not.” Steve said, looking at Bucky as flashbacks played throughout his mind. “Stop! She can’t-FUCK!” Bucky yelled in the all too quiet room. Bucky rushed out, walking straight towards the elevator. All he could think about was you, the whole time you were gone, Bucky thought of how badly he had treated you.

He knew he took you for granted, he didn’t realize how much you did for him until you left his room after he made you leave. He never knew how much you actually meant to him. Bucky wanted to apologize and tell you how he felt when he woke up next to you and he hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

The elevator stopped and Bucky ran out, his feet carrying him down the hallway. He could hear a heart monitor going off and he ran up to the large window, seeing Bruce stitching you up. There was blood all over his gloves and a bit around your stitches. Bloody tissues filled the small trashcan beside Bruce’s feet and it made Bucky’s heart clench.

Your body was still and it scared Bucky. It scared him because he realized he did need you. You tried so hard to make Bucky feel something, feel happy, feel better, feel…loved. Bucky’s tears fell, his chest rising up and down heavily and fast as he watched Bruce finish up.

Bucky knew you’d be okay now, but he just couldn’t help but feel like the biggest piece of crap because of how he made you feel before you left. He realized his mistake and he desperately wanted to make it better.

Bruce turned to see Bucky looking through the glass window and waved him to come inside. Bucky took a deep breath after wiping his tears away. He took slow steps, afraid his presence alone would cause more damage. Bruce watched closely as Bucky walked toward your body. His eyes took in your current state and he felt even more guilty.

Bruce was writing down information on his clipboard and he sighed softly. “She should be awake soon. The medicine I gave her wears off in just enough time.” Bruce told Bucky, watching him grasp your hand gently. Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes on your closed ones. He reached up to your face, his finger caressing along your jawline like he did this morning.

Deciding to give you two a bit of privacy, Bruce quietly exited the room and left to notify the others on how you’re doing. Bucky took a shaky breath before speaking. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Bucky whispered, his eyes filling with tears again. “I was so horrible to you.” He choked out.

He saw your eyelids flutter before slowly starting to open. His heart skipped in his chest and he rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “That’s it, Doll. Come back to me, please.” Bucky whispered. You squinted your eyes a tad at the bright lights and Bucky moved closer, blocking it for you.

You groaned and tried to sit up, not aware of the stitches in your abdomen. Bucky held you down gently. “Y/N, don’t move.” He spoke softly. You relaxed again and licked your dry lips. You sighed and looked up at Bucky. “Why are you here?” You asked rather coldly, not meaning to, though you didn’t apologize. 

Bucky sighed and frowned at your sourness towards him. He was used to you being sweet, but he reckoned he ruined that for good. “I know you might hate me now, but I realized something after, you know..” Bucky trailed off, staring down at you. Your heart sank as you took in his watery and puffy eyes. He had been crying and it was probably because of you.

You watched Bucky’s lip tremble and you reached your hand up to hold his that was still resting on your cheek. “I’m sorry I never appreciated you.” Bucky said, his words holding more than he led on. You knew what he meant and you nodded gently. “I’m sorry if I was too much. I won’t do it anymore.” You whispered, letting your hand fall from Bucky’s.

Bucky nodded gently. “I don’t mind if you don’t want to do things for me anymore. But I do want you to keep trying with me. Y/N, I-I need you.” Bucky said, a sob wracking through his body. Your eyes lifted to Bucky’s and you furrowed your eyebrows. “You what?” You asked, not believing what Bucky just said.

Your heart started racing as Bucky bent down, slowly leaning in to press his lips to yours. You gasped before kissing him back, your hand reaching up to rest on the back of his head. Your heart monitor started beeping faster and Bucky pulled away, a smile on his face. “I said I need you. I was wrong before, so so wrong.” Bucky whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

A smile formed on your lips in return and you giggled. “I’ll always be here, Bucky.” You said, your hand resting on his cheek. Bucky sniffled and kissed your forehead. “I want to take care of you until you get better.” Bucky said, raising up so he could look at your bandage. You gently sighed and frowned. “But I-” Bucky shushed you. “Y/N, you’ve done so much for me.” Bucky said, holding onto your hand.

You nodded and smiled at Bucky, your happiness fluttering back into your chest.

Note: TBH I THINK THIS SUCKS BUT YET I THINK IT’S REALLY CUTE .c

Permanent Tag List: @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes, @abloggernamedsecretly, @untrusted-statue, @our-teenwolf-fam, @littlemissacorn, @its-not-a-phase-hux, @dontfuckwithkezolas, @letsrunwithdream, @thyotakukimkim, @aisabel7, @learisa, @heidijames28, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @theassetseyeliner, @thatsportyavengerpower, @fantasticallyabnormal, @jenn0755, @this-blog-belongs-to-v, @lostinspace33, @morganosborn101, @mxye, @diving-down-to-wonderland, @miraisnotavailable, @ballerinafairyprincess , @unluckyybuckyy, @earinafae, @betherz568,@wagatla, @frickin-bats, @fangirl-monarchy, @sparklydestiel, @charlesgrey1875, @potterhead1265, @domcaaa996, @poshspicehaz, @tori1385, @thelifeofadino, @bubblyanarocks3, @jaybird6232 (if you want to be added or removed, please message me! If I missed you, let me know!)

Post-BatB headcanons

- Adam gets Belle anything she wants. Literally. Anything. One time she offhandedly mentioned she liked art and he bought her the fucking Louvre.

- When Belle tells Adam she’s going to have a baby he acts all calm and collected for about five seconds. He then starts sweating profusely and runs away screaming. 

- Belle and the servants are very quick to convince him that he’ll be a great father, despite his own. In the end it only takes them half an hour to convince him to come out from under the dining table.

- The first time Adam holds his newborn daughter in his arms he cries. He never thought he could love someone more than Belle. They name her after their mothers (no, none of that weird Twilight combo name shit).

- LeFou and Stanley come over to the castle every Sunday for dinner. 

- Anytime Adam sees the Enchantress he hides behind Belle. It’s somewhat ineffective. 

- Mrs. Potts tells Belle horribly embarrassing stories about Adam from when he was younger. Whenever Belle laughs at him he calmly reminds her that she fell in love with a giant, talking buffalo.

- Maurice teaches his granddaughter how to ride a horse, just as he taught Belle. Adam fallows behind, arms out, just in case she falls. She, of course, never does.

- The second time Belle tells Adam she’s going to have a baby it only takes them twenty minutes to get him out from under the table.

Little Hands | Ivar Lothbrok

Tagging: @heathen-army

———-

Words: 2000+

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Rating: Teen 

Warnings: Swearing, childbirth, pregnancy, breastfeeding 

———-

If Ivar could walk, he would be pacing to wear a hole in the floor; you were sure of it. He sat next to you on your shared bed, one hand on the top of your swollen stomach and the other clasped firmly around your own. You watched the worry etch into his pale features, his fingers grasping yours so tightly they were beginning to go numb. You brought your free hand to his face, gently smoothing the wrinkles that had settled in above his brow with your thumb.

“Ivar, my dear husband, will you please relax?” He scoffed but loosened his death grip on your fingers to allow you some relief. You sighed as he possessively rubbed over your stomach as if trying to calm the small child inside with just his touch. You had been feeling the tightening of your womb for several days but early this morning your waters had broken, throwing Ivar into a fit of worry and anguish.

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You Understand, Right? (Part 6): In My Time of Dying

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader

Length: 1336+ words

TW: Nothing in this chapter!

A/N: I think this was one of the first chapter I wrote after people asked for a sequel. It has a special place in my heart. 

Feedback is appreciated (AND SO ARE YOU)!

SERIES MASTERLIST


It was a couple of days later when Dean had just gotten ready for bed, his eyes closed in hopes for a couple of hours of sleep when Y/N knocked on his door softly, opening the frame, and calling his name at the same time.

At the sound of her voice, Dean all but leaped into alertness. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She didn’t say anything as she made her way to his bed, sitting on the space he left with her legs crossed. She ignored his watchful gaze as she chewed on her lips. No words could describe her time in hell, but she knew she needed to accept the memory. Without realizing it her breathing became shallower, and just as Dean opened his mouth, she burst into tears.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean’s heart ached at the sound of her cries. He circled his arms around her, and pulled her against his chest, his legs resting around her figure. “It’s okay. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore, you hear?” Tears were stinging his eyes as she cried even louder, despair and grief in every teardrop. He had to physically bite his bottom lip to stop himself from crying as well. “Let it all out, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Dean drew small circles on her bottom hip, his other hand stroking the back of her hair.

It felt like hours later, and it probably was when Y/N had finally stopped completely crying. She sniffled continuously, using the collar of her shirt to clean up the mess on her face.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” Dean said, seeing her finally calming down.

Y/N scrambled to grab his arm, shaking her head, pleading for him not to leave her.

“I won’t be long,” he promised.

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A Concept

Jeremy’s squip looks like Michael. Jeremy is shocked and confused when he hears this image of the person he loves most and trusts most telling him he’s terrible. It makes the squip 1000x more evil. Jeremy gets even more distant from Michael and even after the whole incident is over he’s still nervous and it makes Michael feel awful because he didn’t do anything wrong. He’d NEVER do anything to hurt Jeremy. But Jeremy realizes and remembers how much he loves Michael and he just like shows up on his doorstep one night and cries and collapses into his arms.

Too Much

MASTERLIST

Requested: no A/N: I’m in Norway so this is a planned post. p>

Word count: 2,239

My back was resting against the soft, white pillow. I pulled the covers higher, covering my entire body. I felt cold, but it had nothing to do with the temperature in the bedroom, it was all about the enormous fight Shawn and I had earlier. Fighting with him always made me feel so cold, so tired and completely drained from any sort of energy. I was reading a book or at least trying to, but I hardly managed to read a single page.

Honestly, I just needed something to distract me from the fact that Shawn had left the apartment in anger and I hadn’t heard from him since.

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2

10 Things Johnny has never told anyone…

1. He is awful jealous of Ponyboy, he knows just how much Darry has sacrificed to keep his family together, and Johnny craves to know a love like that.
2. Johnny has tried to kill himself, but he failed each time. 
3. His biggest fear is dying young, unloved and alone. 
4. Sylvia got him blind drunk to the point that he can hardly remember a single strand of information from the night before, but he woke up as naked as the day he was brought into this world. She used him. 
5. Dally found out and boy was he pissed, but never at Johnny. No, he was pissed off at Sylvia, and boy if she wasn’t a girl, he’d have broken every bone in her worthless body.
6. Johnny’s mother cared about her son once upon a time. Until he grew up looking like the man that beat her senseless every single day. She began to hate Johnny with every fiber of her being. She told this to Johnny and he bawled his eyes out. 
7. Johnny cried in Darry’s arms for hours on end the night they found him bloodied and broken, he begged Darry not to tell anyone. Darry didn’t utter a word about it.
8. When he was a child he would sit up in the trees and watch all the other little kids that had loving parent’s and he wondered why he wasn’t good enough to have a family like that. 
9. The first time he felt love was from someone he didn’t share blood with. Mrs Curtis had been getting quite attached to the small greaser and when he stayed the night she would tuck him into bed right next to Ponyboy and tell them a bed time story, and then she would kiss them both on their foreheads, telling them both just how much she loved and appreciated them. 
10. Each Christmas that passed he wouldn’t get a single thing, his parent’s always told him it was because he wasn’t good enough to get a present from Santa Claus.

It’s An Older Sibling Thing

Characters: Dean Winchester x Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Friend!Reader

Length: 1469+ words

TW: Mentions of drug dealing, prostitution, and child abuse

A/N: I’m so sorry I’m posting this so late! I literally wrote this the night I signed up for the Challenge, but completely forgot about it ;; This is for @not-moose-one-shots 6K Writing Challenge! Congrats on 6000 followers, boo! And thank you for hosting the Challenge. This is my first time joining a Challenge, and I’m so glad I did it! 

11.  “He must pay well.”


A low growl erupted from your throat as the demon took your laptop from your backpack. Two days. It’s been two days since you were kidnapped, and tortured.

“You hunters think you’re so smart,” the demon taunted with a smirk. You looked over his shoulder, realizing that he was tracking Dean’s location. It was the same technique that every hunters used when you needed someone’s location- all you needed was their phone numbers. “We’ve picked up a few skills while being hunted.” He laughed with a wicked grin. “Now, c’mon. We’re gonna pay the Winchesters a little visit.” He raised his gun, and knocked your skull with the butt of it.

When you came to, you realized you were laying on a motel bed, the yellow lighting being too bright for your eyes. You groaned in pain, trying to assess your surroundings. The binds that were around your wrists and ankles were gone, and you felt the uncomfortable feeling of gauze and tape around your injuries.

“Easy, Y/N,” a voice rumbled from the other bed.

“Dean?” you called, turning your head to face him. His jaw tensed as you looked at him with confusion on your face. The motel room was a mess as if a hurricane went through it.

“That’s what happens when you lead a demon to our room,” he sniped, seeing you look around the room.

“What do you-”

“The demon you brought here.”

“Brought here?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.” Dean rolled his eyes. “We know you told him our location in exchange for your life.”

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2

#OKAY BUT #JOYCE GRABS AND SOBS INTO HOP’S ARM #AND HE IS GENTLY CARESSING WILL’S HEAD AFTER PUTTING THE MASK ON #IF THAT’S NOT HIS SECOND CHANCE AT HAVING A FAMILY #I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE COULD BE

He took me under his arm as I cried, and in that moment I understood.

I was not alone

Everyone gets hurt by love at some point in their life, everyone gets played by someone they genuinely cared about, everyone gets betrayed at some point or another.

As alone as this pain makes you feel, it is merely evidence that you are a member of an exclusive club,

The league of people nursing a broken heart

—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write