god this hurts so much

Let’s promise each other something: because darling, oh darling. I know you want to press pause on the movie that is your life, because I do, I do. And I know you sometimes get so tired of carrying the weight of the world on those slim shoulders. I know you look into the mirror and see plain features and feel roaring waves of inadequacy, I know, I know.

I know you’ve got a little voice whispering inside of you you’ll never be good enough. I know you try to protect yourself, to shield yourself to not care because you fear the heartbreak that comes with caring to much but doing this makes you put yourself on the sidelines, makes people stop inviting you and I know, God, I know how much this hurts.

So let’s promise each other something: whenever this happens, this little voice trying so hard to protect us and only winding up hurting us: let’s promise each other to cry a little, to cry a lot. To take a shower, to listen to music and really, truly listen, think about nothing else. To write about wanting to give up but to keep on going, to eat something healthy too, even if we eat up a whole pack of potato chips or chocolate cookies, to grant ourselves this small reprieve instead of hating ourselves afterwards for the way we can pinch our belly between skinny fingers.

Listen to me, please, let’s promise each other to take a walk, to walk past a bridge or a body of water, to admire the darkness but remember the coldness and to keep on going. Remember that stranger that smiled, the one that helped you reach a high shelve, that picked up some change and gave it back, to remember the bus driver that waited on that busy intersection to let you get on, to remember all those little kindnesses from strangers you’ll never forget and to remember that we, too, have got so many little kindnesses to give and that there must be a stranger out there somewhere that remembers these plain features, these brown eyes and not so white teeth.

Let’s promise each other, that, please, please, but let’s also promise each other to sometimes let go and cry and to look after ourselves. Let’s remember that being kind and nice and good does not mean letting people walk over ourselves. And let’s define ourselves: if we like to be alone, sometimes, if we like to close the curtains against the world and drown in music and song, why be jealous of that one friend that is always talking to someone if the mere idea of holding more than three conversations is exhausting. If you love that girl everyone else seems to find annoying, hold steady to it, say “I like her and I like you and is there a problem?” because nothing will feel worse, and of this I am so absolutely certain, nothing will feel worse than betraying yourself.
Darling please, let’s promise each other, that on those lowest moments, on those darkest nights, when we feel like no one will love us ever, we’ll think of our achievements, even if they were something that feels so small and insignificant, like eating one cookie less or getting out of bed, if we were proud of them they matter and so do we. So do we.

And let’s promise each other we’ll think of our families, or about the friends we’ve had and that even though it always felt like we were the second choice, we were a choice, so they wanted us in their lives. Let’s think of the stranger we once helped, and think that maybe they remember us. Let’s think of the things that we love, and let’s think about the fact that the CO2 we expel from our lungs feed plants and bacteria and that we matter. That we have done some good in this world and that hopefully we’ll be able to do some more. That everything will be all right someday as long as we keep going.
Darling, let’s promise each other, that though we are strangers that may have never met, I’ll love you and you’ll love me, and we’ll think about each other sometimes, because we understand each other so perfectly, because I know that voice in your head as well as you know the ache in my bones and the tiredness of my eyelids, and we’ll keep on existing and breathing and loving and not giving up no matter how many times our heart breaks because we know they are not alone in breaking and so maybe, just maybe, they will not be alone in healing either because we will have each other to think of, to remember and to smile through the tears together.

and i so badly wanted the little things to not matter. i didn’t want the thought of you touching another girl to matter or the fact that you probably don’t even think about me. i wanted it all not to matter. i wanted you to not matter because if you didn’t matter then it wouldn’t hurt that you haven’t even called in a year. it wouldn’t hurt that i still long to hear your voice at the end of the day. i didn’t want it to matter because when it matters it hurts. it hurts like hell. god, why does it hurt so much. i need it to not matter. i need you not to matter. why do you matter..
—  i should be over you//Deeply Feeling Series (via promisesofamazing)
I tried. I tried so hard to be everything you wanted. To make you happy. To see you smile. To hear you laugh. To be what you need. I tried so god damn hard and that is why it hurts so much that I wasn’t enough for you.
— 

I tried.

But that wasnt enough for you

Medicine (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

I’m so sorry for any stupid errors, its 2am and my brain is mush but I can’t sleep so I sHALL WRITE

-Jazz

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

Other characters featured; sam, steve, nat 

KEY

Y/N - Your name

Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Warnings; talks about torture, language 

Word count; 1449

Originally posted by rohgers


‘He won’t snap out of it, Rogers,’ Natasha explained, a sigh evident in her voice. ‘Usually he comes around after a day, but it’s been nearly a week and-’

‘- You need to give him time.’ Steve interrupted, staring at his best friend behind the glass.

 An ex-HYDRA agent had triggered his Winter Soldier mode on a recent mission and after much destruction and pain, they’d managed to get him into a Hulk-proof glass room. He kept coming in and out of the phase over the course of the week, sometimes Bucky and other times the Winter Soldier.

‘I wasn’t finished.’ The ginger assassin continued. ‘I was reading his files - Looking at what they used to calm him back at HYDRA.’

‘Don’t even go there. He can’t handle anymore drugs.’

‘It’s not a drug, Steve.’ Sam was now stood beside them, Bucky’s file in his hands. ‘It’s a person. Y/N Y/L/N.’

Their converation was abruptly stopped by a smashing of a metal fist against the glass - Bucky was stood in front of them, breathing heavily. He looked angry, but there was a glint of nostalgia in his eyes.

‘What did you just say?’ He spat.

‘Y/N,’ Steve said slowly. ‘You know them?’

‘Y/N,’ Bucky stepped away, muttering to himself. ‘For the first time in six days, he was calm, his words wild as he stared furiously at the floor.

‘There we go,’ Natasha grinned to herself. ‘We need Y/N.’

Bucky’s eyes snapped back up to hers at the mention of the name again.

‘We need Y/N.’ Steve nodded, repeating her words back to her. ‘But is she still there? Is she even still alive-’

‘Don’t you dare say that!’ Bucky yelled, smacking the glass again. ‘Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!’ He stopped, breathing heavily. ‘Of course she’s alive. She has to be.’

‘I’ll try, Buck. I promise.’

He grabbed Natasha and Sam by the elbows, yanking them into the office opposite to the holding room and out of earshot from Bucky. Sam was still reading the file while Natasha was peering over his shoulder.

‘She used to be good at calming him down,’ She explained. ‘HYDRA tried to separate them, they were too dependent on each other. After that, they got angry and both attempted to assassinate their guards until within each other’s presence again.’

‘That’s wild,’ Sam commented.

‘And it’s just what we need.’ Steve replied.

‘Are you suggesting we break into a HYDRA base?’ Natasha’s green eyes thinned, her ginger falling over her shoulder as she cocked her head to the side. ‘But which one?’

‘SHIELD traced the last base to somewhere on the outskirts of the city last week,’ He responded. ‘Their planning the raid to destroy, but if we can get in and out quickly and quietly without them noticing, Fury will be none the wiser.’

‘You are insane, Rogers.’ Sam huffed. ‘But I’m in.’

‘Me too.’ Natasha replied.


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10

That makes me think about those times I wanted to grab you and kiss you. But you didn’t know, so I would just pretend everything was cool. But really it was killing me. And I remember all those mornings before you even put on your makeup, when I would think to myself, “My God, she is beautiful.” And it hurt so much because I knew I could never tell you. But it was worth it just to be there looking at you.

I miss you
and I know I shouldn’t

because we’ve been
down this path so many times
that I should be used to this

and over it

but something
is always pulling us together

No matter how much time
and space we’ve had from each other

There’s always that tug

I want nothing more
than to break the silence

but so much
has been said and done

I know this is what’s best
and what we’re supposed do

but my God
I miss you so much it hurts
and the ache never seems to dull

—  that ache never dulls

anonymous asked:

Sooooooo I was thinking what would Shiro do if his s/o showed up to party in a sexy black dress just to get him back for spending so much time with Voltron P.s I love your Blog!

I like the way you think! I do love me some petty revenge.

Originally posted by lanceville


“Hey Shiro! What are you up to today? Cause I was thinking–”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I need to go over Voltron’s last battle and come up with some sort of game plan,” Shiro sighs and glowers at the screen in his hand, “We should have taken that Robeast out before it had that chance to knock us down. Maybe if I had had Lance and Hunk move us–” He’s talking more to himself now so you just cluck your tongue and walk away. Maybe next time.


You paced back and forth on the observation deck, growing increasingly agitated with every slowly passing minute. Seriously? He’s thirty minutes late! Where the hell was your boyfriend?!

You stop and loudly vent your frustration before storming storming towards the training deck. God help Shiro if he’s still training during date night because oh…he’s not here. None of the paladins are. So, clearly they finished? 

You sigh and head towards the rooms. You can hear various showers running and the thought of scaring the crap out of Shiro while he’s showering brings a skip to your step. But when Shiro’s door opens, you can see him laying face first in bed with his armor still on. You deflate and let his door shut on its own. If he’s tired enough to sleep in his armor then there’s no point in waking him. 


And so it keeps happening. Every time you think you finally get Shiro on his own he either has Voltron related business, extra training, or is passed out in places he shouldn’t be. It’s frustrating. It’s vexing. It’s starting to piss you off

Of course, you don’t think you’re more important than defending the universe from evil purple aliens but dammit, it hurts to be pushed aside so easily! 

But tonight…oh-hoho, tonight you were going to get back at the Black Paladin. 

You see, Allura, Coran, and Shiro have been in negotiations for the last week or so with the twin High Priestesses of Il’rea, who have long been fighting the Galra in their own quadrant of space. They’ve been highly successful; due to the combined power of Lady Arcadia’s tactics and Lady Selena’s bloodlust and frankly, Team Voltron needed help from people like them if there was any hope to defeat Prince Lotor. 

Tonight, the whole planet was celebrating the new alliance in Voltron’s honor with a huge party. Food, music, pretty girls, pretty guys (just pretty people in general), and displays of power and magic promised to be a fun night.

But there was a small problem. The problem was, as Lance put it: “Those Priestesses are total babes! They could literally crack my skull between their thighs and I would die happy.” Whether he was on duty or not, Shiro was spending a lot of time with beautiful women that were not you and tonight was the night you were going to drag his attention back, Voltron and the Alliance be damned. Especially since it’s been a good two weeks since you two had some true alone time. 

You smiled triumphantly at the sexy little black number hanging on the back of your door, ‘Watch Shiro ignore this.’


Shiro missed you. God, he missed you so much it started to hurt and the guilt he was carrying about temporarily pushing you aside to focus on Voltron was starting to haunt his nightmares. He was determined to fix it tonight. He was going to apologize for being a shit boyfriend, apologize for overworking himself, and apologize for making the love of his life feel like she no longer mattered to him. 

Keith had made it a point to find Shiro tell him that last little tidbit last night. It hurt. It hurt so bad Shiro actually spent most of the night crying and beating himself up mentally for that one. He royally fucked up, and he knew it.

So when the shuttle carrying you and the Paladins arrived, his heart began racing and Shiro felt the telltale fluttering in his stomach that told him he was nervous. But there were only four bodies on that shuttle and none of them yours. Concerned, Shiro pulled Keith aside to speak to him in a low whisper, “Hey, Keith. Wh-where’s Y/N? Isn’t she coming?”

Keith pursed his lips and glared. Shiro dropped his hand from Keith’s arm and took a step back, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic hostility in his friend’s eyes. He waits and Keith looks away before clearing his throat, “She’s not coming. She said she has a migraine so she’s going to take advantage of a silent castle and sleep it off. She doesn’t want you there.” He walks away with a final glare, making sure to clip his shoulder against Shiro’s. 

Shiro rubs his shoulder and glances towards the other paladins. He blanches as they quickly turn away to hide their glares. Crestfallen, Shiro swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the tears that threaten to spill. He has a job to do tonight so he steels himself and turns around, stepping out of Takashi Shirogane - the failing boyfriend, and into Shiro - the Black Paladin and Leader of Voltron. 

He doesn’t see Lance and Hunk sharing concerned glances as they wonder if they took their glares too far or Pidge and Keith giving each other a thumbs up. He also misses you slipping out of your hiding place in the pod and moving to the next hiding place, shoes in hand. Allura, who has been your silent partner in tonight’s shenanigans, gives you a wink as she steps in front of your new spot, further hiding you. Bless her. She’s just as petty as you are.


Parties.

There was a time in his life that Shiro once enjoyed a good party and the chance to get shit-faced drunk without a care in the world. Now his anxiety was acting up, telling him there were too many people, too many points of entry, too many chances for an assassin to sneak in, this is was just another chance to get Lance blow–no. No. He needs to stop. There’s no point in thinking like that.

God, he needed a drink.

Luckily, Il’rea has alcohol, or something like it, and Shiro grabs a glass from a passing waiter and downs it in one gulp. Much better.

He grabbed another drink with every intention of downing that one too but he was stopped when he saw you flitting through the crowd. But it couldn’t be you, you were in the castle. Right?

He drops the glass from his mouth and moves to follow what he swears was you. His searching is fruitless and Shiro gives it up as a bad job only a few minutes later. He was looking for a black dress in a sea of black and white with little variation. Why couldn’t the woman have been wearing a red dress? That would be so much easier!

Like Allura! Shiro could make her out easily since her dress started as a bright yellow and faded to a soft orange. She looked like an Earth sunset was easily the brightest person in the room. Shiro smiled as she laughed at some aristocrat’s joke, happy to finally see her so carefree after the stressful week they had. He wished he could be like that.

He watched for a few more moments and was about to turn away when Allura hooked her arm through the arms of another woman and they turned as one to move together. His heart stopped for a split second because he knows that face. He knows that face.

Where Allura was as radiant as the sun, there you were, looking like the human embodiment of the night. Your hair was pulled up and artfully messy, lips painted a deep purple to match purple eye shadow, the front of your black gown draped over you to deeply expose your breasts and Shiro swallowed when he saw the long beautiful silver necklace he found for you sitting innocently on your chest. The last time he saw it he was watching it shimmer and shine as it moved with every thrust of his hips against yours.

You looked like Sin. And when your eyes locked Shiro swore then and there to have you underneath him before the night was over. He continued watching with hungry eyes as Allura twirled you two around and revealed the (pretty much non-existent) back of your dress and he changed it to within the hour. The wink you gave him over the shoulder as you disappeared into the crowd gave him the fuel he needed.

But it wasn’t that easy. Every time he got close to you, Hunk or Lance would whisk you away for a dance and pass you off to someone high ranking enough in the Il’rean hierarchy that Shiro knew it would cause tension if he just cut in, so he was forced to wait. 

And wait.

 And wait. Prowling like a panther at the edge of the dancing crowd, waiting for his chance to snatch you up.

Eventually there was a lull in the music and Shiro used it to beeline towards you, determined to have you in his arms and screaming his name in one of the smaller rooms next door. But he was stopped by Keith shoving a plate of food in his hands with a cheeky grin. “You haven’t eaten all night. Here. It’s delicious.”

“I-Uh…What? Oh,” he looked down at the plate just long enough to loose you in the crowd again and he cursed his luck. And his crew, the shits. He could spy Pidge up on the balcony, no doubt keeping an eye on the situation and instructing each of the Paladins to intercept him every time he got too close. He should have known they’d be in on this. They do like to stir up trouble. 

Well. There would be no getting to you this way. Not with Pidge directing them. And he couldn’t just run up there like a psychopath and stop her. She’d see him. He popped some of the food Keith brought him into his mouth and saluted Pidge. If this was his punishment, it was his punishment. But he could spoil their fun by giving in. His own private revenge on his crew for their mutiny.


“Surprise, surprise. You didn’t come for me,” you sigh as you lean against the balcony entryway. Shiro turns towards you with a bittersweet smile, “Would you have let me?” He leans against the balcony, doing his best to appear nonchalant even though his heart was hammering in his chest because there you are! His beautiful girlfriend! The light of his life! The woman he would willingly risk life and limb for! Dear god, he could see how pissed you were.

You fake thinking for a moment, making sure to bring a finger to your lips, just to enjoy the way Shiro’s eyes darken at such an innocent gesture. “No, not really. I was enjoying myself soooo much. I didn’t want to distract myself with my significant other.” Your pointed glare hits home and Shiro drops his gaze to the floor. You do nothing but wait, letting his shame settle in.

You soften as his shoulders drop and he slowly walks towards you, frightened that with each step closer he moves, you will bolt. You both release the breaths you didn’t know you were holding as Shiro slowly brings his forehead to yours. His large hands feel so right as snakes them around your waist and just holds you, taking a moment just to savor you in his arms before he can gather the courage to speak. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to push you away. I didn’t intend to make you feel like you don’t matter to me, because you do. You are–I love you,” you gasp at his confession and the urge to scream ‘I love you too!’ is almost to much to bear but Shiro isn’t done talking, so you bite your tongue. Literally. “I made a mistake. I need to try harder. I will try harder. For you and Voltron.” 

The kiss he gives you is so tender and so sweet it nearly brings tears to your eyes. You pull him down for another harder kiss as he pulls away, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage before pulling away enough to mumble against his lips, “You beautiful idiot. I love you so much but you’re too hard on yourself. I just…I missed you.”

You buried yourself into Shiro’s chest and squeezed him tight, enjoying the way his arms tightened against you and the gentle way he nuzzles into your hair. He was so warm and comforting and you couldn’t believe that you had gone nearly two weeks without this. These were the moments you lived for: domesticity in a universe at war.

“I’m going to fuck you in that dress the moment we get back to the castle,” his voice is low and gravely in your ear and you shivered. Moment ruined. 

“I’ve had to watch you prance around in that sorry excuse for a dress all night. Did you even see how much people wanted you?” A moan escapes as Shiro mouths directly against your ear and he moves his cool metal hand up your exposed back. You can feel his half-hard erection against your hip and he grins wickedly against your ear as he lightly rocks against you, “You naughty thing, I’m going to–”

“Sorry to interrupt,” you and Shiro jerk apart as Lady Arcadia glides by, her sister in tow, “but might I trouble you to use one of the rooms down the hall? As lovely as public displays of affection are, surely you two would enjoy privacy?” They quirk twin eyebrows and smirk, gliding away the way they came. 

You adjust your dress and hair, thankful that you were interrupted before anything else started. You share a bashful look with Shiro and clasp hands before re-joining the party; putting a pause on your libidos to play ambassadors. There would be time to play later tonight.

“Why doesn’t he care?” 6.0

Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Angst

Format: Text Post

[1.0] [2.0] [3.0] [4.0] [5.0] [6.0] [7.0] [8.0] [9.0] [9.5] [10.0] [11.0] [12.0] [13.0] [13.06]Finale


Originally posted by vminv

Y/N’s p.o.v

I was starting to drift off to sleep when I heard the front door open and close.

“Y/N? I’m home! Wait what the fuck? Why are all my things here? Y/N!” I could already hear the anger alongside of shock in his voice. I wheeled myself out of the bedroom to the hallway where he was stood beside his belongings looking angry until his eyes fell upon me.

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Imagine Waking Eggsy Up From a Nightmare

A/N: This is for the anon that prompted a fic where the reader wakes Eggsy up from a nightmare. Go ahead and send a request - anything at all! Hope you like this one anon! :D

This has some swearing in but is pretty tame next to some of my other stuff!

The feeling of something next to you thrashing about jerked you from a deep sleep. 

Still half asleep, you rubbed your eyes and turned over, reaching out blindly for the source of the noise. Your hand connected with the body next to you - your boyfriend, Eggsy, with his eyes squeezed shut and panicked murmurs escaping from his lips. 

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Hiraeth - Part one

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

☽Pairing☾ ; BTS | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst | Fluff

☽Word Count☾ ; 1.4k

☽Summary☾ Returning back to Korea after years of being under the ground, to see your parents. You wished it was all it took, to feel complete again. The aftermath of confusion, betrayal and sorrow was the reason to never come back into the boys presents. But it wasn’t until, seeing one them enter the same cafe, at the right time.

☽Notes☾ ;  A continuation of Metanoia & Tacenda, another sequel | Trailer | Part two


“Remember to give us an update throughout the week, so we know where we can find you and hearing the process” Your luggage aligned along the walls of the airport, as the phone in your hand heated up from the longest flight you have ever been on. Your closest therapist, or friend as you sometimes liked to call it, gave you a green light to go back to Korea. The smells and weather change were overwhelming, compared to the building you had spent years inside of. You couldn’t remember much from how you got there, and what happened towards the end of a pitch-black hole. Maybe you just didn’t want to remember, the fragile pieces of memories that were left behind. “I will, every Friday I will give back a report” You promised into the microphone, already too dizzy to think of the ideas that were stuck in your mind while asking for permission to go back.

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Truly, Madly, Deeply - Tom Holland x Reader imagine

Title: Truly, Madly, Deeply
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Things get heated after Tom’s little bonfire.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warning: NSFW, contains smut, 18+
A/N: So after Tom’s insta lives at the weekend, I think we can all agree we were a little thirsty for him, which is why @peterfuckinparker & I ended up writing this! Let us know what you think here.

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Injury Starters:
  • “Ow…I think I broke something.”
  • “Can I lean on you for a second? My ankle’s bothering me.”
  • “Do you have any bandages?”
  • “Oh god, that hurts so much.”
  • “Everything hurts. Seriously, I think I broke myself.”
  • “I can’t walk.”
  • “Sorry about the blood trail. I might have gotten a bad gash.”
  • “Is is bad that I can’t feel my legs?”
  • “I’ve never felt this much pain in my life.”
  • “Are you okay? Are you bleeding?"
  • “Here, let me help, I took a course on this a few years ago.”
  • “Does anyone know first-aid?”
  • “That’s a pretty bad bruise, man.”
  • “You definitely need to go to the hospital.”
  • “Where’d you get all these cuts?”
  • “Lie down. Sit somewhere, you need to rest.”
  • “I’ll get the ice.”
  • “I can’t believe you got yourself beaten up again.”
  • “How many hospital bills are you worth, anyway?"

madstermojo2000  asked:

Vernon for the random au?

  • paramedic!vernon 
  • is the youngest of the EMT’s unit and everyone baby’s him and calls him cute when he comes in with his hair clipped back and his uniform on
  • and he’s like iM NOT,,,,,cute 
  • and they’re like ok mhm sure,,,,,,,but literally the nurses love him so much and when he’s on the night shift they’re like “vernon, here have a granola bar and some coffee and this extra heat pack-”
  • won’t say it, but he thinks doctors are super cool and he really likes watching them work
  • thinks he doesn’t have to wear his seatbelt when they’re riding in the ambulance but that’s a big mistake and almost knocks down a bunch of cotton swabs when the driver does a fast turn on the freeway
  • you,,,,,,are not the world’s most handy person so when you decide it’ll be a good idea to fix your curtains at literally 11 pm on a tuesday you don’t expect that you’ll make (1) false move
  • and go tumbling off the stairs, scrapping yourself on your coffee table and hitting your arm against the floor
  • and thankfully a neighbor hears the commotion and dials for the ambulance (since your arm hurts way too damn much)
  • and when it gets here,,,,,you see vernon and you’re like,,,,,,,woah,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,cute
  • and he’s asking you questions along with another EMT and you’re just dazed, maybe because you hit your head, maybe because he’s got the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you’ve ever seen
  • but you’re just like uhuh or no and vernon is like ‘ok let’s get you to the ER’
  • and as you’re laying in the ambulance, vernon shutting the doors 
  • and he leans over to get to treating the cut on your arm and he’s like “how did you fall?”
  • and you’re just like “are you an angel?” and he’s like,,,,,,,,,,,what
  • and you’re like “have you seen yourself? like how you look. like. what. like. did i hit my head that hard and im in heaven now or???”
  • and vernon is looking down at you and he’s like,,,stuck between being flattered and being confused
  • and he’s like 
  • “sorry, but are you flirting with me after you just broke your arm and are bleeding?”
  • and you grin and you’re like “yes” and vernon is like,,,,,,,well this is a new one
  • and you’re like “seriously? i feel like you get flirted with all the- Oh MY GOD MY HAND HURTS SO MUCH WHY DID I TRY TO MOVE IT”
  • and vernon is like akgfhlefjf but he gets your hand situated in a makeshift cast and he’s like “don’t move it or shift your weight,,,,,,,,,,,”
  • and when you get to the ER he’s like “the nurse will take you from here.” and you’re like ok,,,,,,,,,will i see you again
  • and vernon is like if you break your arm again and you’re like really??? and he’s like oh my god don’t get any ideas here ill write my number on your arm- wait it’s broken ok let me scribble it on your hospital bracelet while the nurse isn’t looking 
  • kingsman fandom: oh my god harry is actually alive this movie won't hurt so much hartwin!! is!! back!! i can't wait to see the old knights kick ass we're gonna be so well-fed
  • K2: hold my martini. gin, not vodka, obviously. stirred for 10 seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth. but hold it a sec
Fault - 2

(Part 1)

Summary:

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

Word Count: 1251
Warnings: Injury, angst


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

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

The third is that you’re moving. Fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words never slip past your lips.


“Look, I just–”

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

“Like shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Pairing: Sebastian X Reader

Words: 1,153

Warnings: SMUT. And NSFW gifs. Also, please use a condom you guys.

Anon asked “Hey, it’s the anon who requested ‘so far’.. I wanted to ask if you can do another imagine where the reader and Seb have been best friends since forever and they both have feelings for each other but don’t act upon it and they get into a heated argument and Seb sees how important the reader is in his life and idk what else.. thank you”

A/N: Here ya go. Part 3 of Who I Want to Be. I haven’t written smut in a while This is my first time writing actual smut so please be nice in the comments. Gifs not mine!!!

Tagging: @ccrossfire  @jared-padaloveme

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