i sink into the darkness of the early morning goodbye my friends

I love you (MATURE)

I know this isn’t Marvel imagine, but i wrote this long time ago and thought maybe i should post it. 

The bed was so comfortable. She rolled around in her sleep and she felt like she was floating on the clouds. She starched her arm to touch her boyfriend, but all she met was more silky sheets. She slowly began to open her eyes, it took her some time before she could see properly. Her eyes needed some time to get used to the darkness.

That reminded her of the psychology class from the other day, when their teacher told them, that their eyes need thirty minutes before you could see anything.

She always found that very stupid, especially when she was walking to school in the morning. Her eyes didn’t need thirty minutes to get used to the darkness, she could see properly just after five minutes.

She looked around the room but she couldn’t find much known, and very dear silhouette to her. He was nowhere to be found, and that got her wondering, what he could be possibly doing at this time of the night. To be honest she didn’t know what time it was, and neither was she going to look, because it would be a crime to move from this holy position.

She was always laying on her stomach, she would much likely fall asleep on her back, but during the night she would always find her way back onto the stomach. It was the most comfortable pose ever. So she didn’t even bother to roll back and grab her phone form the night stand.

She was laying like that for solid ten minutes, even though it seemed to her like it was hours. She wasn’t sure how much time has passed, but she wondered how she didn’t fall asleep immediately. She is always the first one to fall asleep, she could lay anywhere, and within the minute, and she would be out.

But it was only because she was sleeping next to him, but when they were separated because of his tour and her school, she would barely get some kind of sleep. She just missed the warmth his body produced, the feeling of his strong, muscular hands wrapped around her body. His sweet little kisses all the way from her back, over her shoulder, around her neck and finally locking with hers. His low voiced “Goodnight” that was so innocence, but it would still send shivers down her spine.

She is so deeply in love with him, so over her head with him, he can make her lose her mind in less than a second. She would do anything for him, and that scares her the most. She never thought she would love anyone so much, it terrifies her sometimes. The thought that he holds her everything in his hands, her heart, her soul, her life, that one wrong word, move and she will be shuttered, broken, left in pieces.

He isn’t the type of person that would hurt her on purpose, he’s a sweet, loving and genuine guy. But lately he hasn’t been acting like himself. She understands that tour took a lot of his energy, and that all he wants now is peace and to relax, and she respects that. What hurts the most is when he says he needs to relax but he goes out with his friends, and comes home in early morning hours. She tried to confront him about it, but he would just raise his hands in the air, call her petty or just tell her that he missed them.

But so does she. She haven’t seen him in a year, all she wants now is, for him to wrap his hands around her, tell her he loves her and just cuddle for the rest of the day. She’s not asking for much, is she now? And even though he’s home now, she feels the same way she did when he was on tour. She misses him, and he’s right there, but just like he isn’t. She tried everything, she wonders if she did something wrong, is he mad at her, but anytime she would start a conversation about it, he would just push her off.

She let out a loud sigh and moved the covers from her body, and as soon as the silky sheets left her body, she felt shivers run down her spine, and only then she realised, the balcony doors were open, she was staring at them but she didn’t notice, not until now, and that’s exactly what he does to her. She wasn’t really sure why she felt the shivers because it wasn’t even cold.

And then she saw him, he was standing there, leaning onto balcony fence, looking so peaceful, maybe that’s the reason she felt them, her brain recognised him before she did. But one thing shocked her, he was smoking a cigarette. She was damn sure he stopped, at least that’s what he said. Well more correctly, that’s what he promised to do.

All she wanted to do was to go out, hug him from behind and just stay like that for hours. But she was afraid, afraid to move, because if he hears her, he will turn around and again go into his, now natural state, tensed.

She observed him for few more minutes, and then she decided to get up, she didn’t walk towards him, rather she went down to the kitchen and grab herself something to drink. She wasn’t really thirsty, but she couldn’t lay there anymore. She was so distracted that she almost fell over the pile of his clothes that was on the floor. And that little pile made her so angry, so she just wanted to turn around, go out and yell at him. Later on, she wasn’t even sure if she was mad about the pile, or about him in general.

She opened the fridge and just stared in, does she take bottle of water or apple juice. She went with just regular water, because she didn’t want anything sweet. She poured it into a glass and brought it to her lips, she was slowly drinking while looking through the kitchen window, into the dark, full of shadows, back yard. Shadows were playing around, enlighten the trees, now from this, now from that side. She calmed down a little bit, and she didn’t even hear him come.

Lately she was so distracted, it started to bother her. His low and quiet voice shook her out of her dreams. It was so quiet, but so was the house so it sounded like he was standing right behind her, but she knew he was either leaning onto kitchen door, or kitchen cabinets.

“Why are you up so late?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Does she tells him the truth, that she can’t sleep without him and that the person who sleeps with her now isn’t her boyfriend, but some stranger taking over his body? Or does she just lie to him, and tells him its school? She rather decided to say nothing but to stare through window again.

Now she could feel the smell of cigarette that he just smoked, and it bothered her so much. The smell was so unpleasant, she wanted to turn around and tell him to shower. She took a deep breath, put the glass into the sink, knowing that she’s going to wash it tomorrow. She slowly turned around, trying not to catch his gaze, slowly started walking towards their shared room.

Just as she thought she had passed him, she felt the strong grip on her hand. By then she was already pissed off, and all she could do was let out a loud groan. She tried to pull her hand out of his grip, but he only pulled her closer. Her face met his bare chest, and she appreciated the warmth and smell of his body, even though the smell of cigarette ruined it.

“I’m tired Justin, let me go, please.”

Her voice was low, she felt tired, but not physical tiredness, no the mental one was bigger problem.

“Apparently you’re not tired enough if you woke up at 2.30 a.m.” and what could she say to that. She hated it when he became cocky little shit, mostly because that wasn’t her Justin. She wanted to talk to him about everything, but she knew it would all turn into a fight, and for that, she was not ready.

“My mouth was dry, so it woke me up, can you please let me go now?”

She whispered into his chest, feeling her eyes getting wetter. No she didn’t want to cry, but sometimes we don’t cry because we’re weak, we cry because it’s the only way to let out the pain, the frustration. It’s the only way to make mental pain, physical. But she didn’t want to cry in front of him, she just didn’t.

But his question dried her eyes in a second, she again became frustrated and angry, but at the same time confused and sad. That’s what he does to her. Confuses her, completely.

“Why are you avoiding me? In the evening, you’re already sleeping even before I enter the room. You leave in the morning without a kiss, without a goodbye. When I want to make you feel good, and you know how good I make you feel, your head hurts, or you have an exam to study for, or just something else that doesn’t make any damn sense.”

She was indeed avoiding him, but she only did it because she thought that would protect her from him. She didn’t know why she needed the protection from him, but she felt that way, if he was going to push her away, she won’t be able to try and hold him.

She was once again speechless, or so she pretended she was. She was a burning lion, observing, but always ready to attack.

She felt his hand under her chin, pulling it up, to finally meet his gaze. Every single time she would look into his eyes, he would make her feel like she’s seeing him for the first time ever, that weird feeling in her stomach made her change her weight from her right to her left leg.

He looked at her, or more properly, he observed her, he was still waiting for an answer, but he knew he wouldn’t get one, not from her and not tonight. But did he even wanted it? No, he just needed her attention, but he didn’t realise he was the reason why she stopped giving him so much attention. She wasn’t even aware of what she was doing to him. He was making him go crazy, he hated her for that.

He moved so fast she didn’t even got to catch a breath before her back met stone cold wall. His hands were on each side of her body, her legs were wrapped around him, and they fit so perfectly. His face was so close, their noses touched and she could feel his hot breath on her face. He was looking deeply into her eyes like he was asking for permission, but she knew he wasn’t.

Their lips met, and there was no sweetness in it, no patience, only roughness. But she didn’t mind, he moved his left hand down her body and gripped her ass, ass his lips did the same, concentrating on her neck. His pace was at the same time rough but perfect. All she could do was let out a small moan, that made him lean more into her, and she could feel his smirk growing against her neck. She wrapped her hand around his muscles, digging her nails into his skin. Suddenly he pulled his lips away from her neck, and he moved her from cold wall to the kitchen table. She used the chance to take her shirt off.

As soon as her nipples were exposed and hit by cold air they got hard. His eyes moved from her lips to her breast and he didn’t waste any time. He took her right nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking onto it, while he took other one in between his fingers and started tugging onto it. She let out a loud moan of pleasure. His mouth moved from her nipple to her mouth.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that? Let me make you feel the way I only know.”

He mumbled against her lips, the only response she offered him was a small whimper. He moved his lips down her jaw again, this time making sure to leave marks all the way from her neck to her breast. He moved his left hand down her body, until he reached her inner thigh. He moved the tips of his fingers against the sensitive skin, teasing her. She groaned and tried to pull herself closer to him, she was eager to fell his touch.

“Please, Justin” she whispered. Neither of them could wait any longer, but he felt indescribable pleasure teasing her. He slid his hand into her underwear, his fingers meeting her clit, rubbing it roughly. “So fucking wet.” He slid his fingers into her without a warning. Sudden pleasure made her let out loud moan, trying to get even closer to him, just so she could feel more of him.

“You keep moving closer to me, baby girl, even though there is no more place to move. See, only I make you feel this way. You should remember that.” He moved his lips from her neck and looked deeply into her eyes.

“I was going to tease you some more, but I just want to fuck the shit out of you.” he pulled his fingers out, pulled his Calvin Klein’s down, separated her legs and without a warning slammed into her. His mouth fell open while she moaned loudly. She wrapped her hands around his naked body, scratching his back.

“Fucking hell. You’re so tight, baby girl.” he hovered over her, making her back hit the cold table board. His mouth found her nipple and started nibbling onto it. Her mouth fell open from sudden pleasure. His hips found a perfect pace.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.” He groaned against her nipple. She wanted too, but the pleasure was too much and the only way she responded was through loud moan. But he wasn’t pleased with that. He slapped her ass, twice, once from right side, other time from left side. Burn that she felt after his hands made her whimper even more. When she still wasn’t responding, he picked his pace, even though she thought he couldn’t go any faster.

Their bodies moved in sync, and she could spot sweat dripping down his forehead. Even though the kitchen was very big, it became so hot in there that she wanted to jump out of her skin.

She felt his hand around her neck, griping her tightly, and the rough feeling almost pushed her over the edge, but he suddenly pulled out. The sudden feeling of emptiness made her whimper.

“You’re not cumming, until you tell me how god I make you feel, you understand me?” she nodded and pulled her hips up, trying to get him to continue. But he just looked at her. She took a deep breath and started.

“You make me feel so-“but she wasn’t able to finish. He pushed into her with so much force, all she could do was scream. She could see a smirk playing on his lips, he was pleased with her answer.

She felt the well-known feeling and she knew she was close. She won’t be able to hold it any longer, but she could see he was just as close as she was.

“I feel you getting tighter around me. You wanna cum, baby girl?” His voice was low and husky and she only could nod.

“Yes, please.” She somehow mumbled in between the moans.

“Look at me, let’s cum together.” Their eyes met, and like it was their trigger, his movements became sloppier and he let out a loud groan, while she screamed out his name, scratching his back. She could feel him feeling her up with his jounces and it was the best feeling.

“Oh fuck.” He mumbled, they both tried to catch a breath after an amazing experience.

“I love you.” he leaned closer and locked their lips once again. “I love you” she mumbled against his lips.

He picked her into his arms and carried her to their shared room.

use me // h.s.

Originally posted by ohstylesno

a/n: I didn’t really edit, I kind of just rewrote the whole thing I already had because someone suggested this off of my list and I figured why not get to it while I have the time and the drive! So here’s some smut about being impatient and wanting to bone your boyfriend even though he’s super busy! Enjoy!

You really didn’t want to disturb Harry.

It was rare that he got the chance to work from his home studio. It was even rarer that you happened to have your weekend off around the same time that he decided to stay home and work instead of spending his days in a studio. But just because you had the weekend off didn’t mean he could drop everything to spend all of his time with you. You still had a lot to get done before you were back at work on Monday though, so you tried to busy yourself the best that you could with your little checklist. The bedroom and bathroom needed to be deep cleaned, the kitchen needed to be reorganized, and you had your home office that needed to be set up. The only problem was you had most of those things started on Friday evening and finished on Saturday afternoon. That left you with a day and a half of doing nothing, a day and half of wanting Harry desperately from afar.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can u write one from josh's pov where he is madly in love with y/n but she's already got a boyfriend and he can't help but feel heartbroken knowing that josh is just always going to be y/n's best friend

authors note: all i could think when reading this prompt was Jim and Pam, so that’s kind of what I loosely based this off from. This is a longerish fic, hopefully what you were looking for.  Enjoy!


“Square up, Y/L/N, you’re going down.”

Josh hovered over your shoulder like a bug that just wouldn’t go away, muttering discouraging words into your ear, trying to distract you from the task at hand.  You had to admit he was doing a good job, because all you wanted to do was turn around and smack him, but you had to stay focused.  A bag of chips was on the line here.

You took a deep breath and pulled your arm back, nothing but sheer determination in your vision, and you let your paper airplane sail.  You watched as it flew through the air, coasting past the copier and fax machine, past the cluster of desks, past Josh’s airplane resting on the floor, until it hit the door to the break room and finally landed.

“Yes!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up in victory.  “I beat you by like four feet!”

Josh stares, stunned at how you managed to sail your paper airplane all the way across the office, but nonetheless, hands you over a dollar to get your bag of chips from the vending machines.

“You really should stop betting on things with me, I always win—“ you gloat, as you both make your way into the break room.

Josh leans against the vending machine, watching you select your favorite bag from the top row.  “No way, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”  

You laugh, shaking your head at Josh’s remark before opening your bag of chips and heading back to your desk.  

Josh watches you go, that familiar sinking feeling becoming prevalent in his stomach, just like every other time you walk away.  He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his right state of mind.  He loved the friendship you two shared, but sometimes he needed a minute to contain all the thoughts running through his head, otherwise his undying love for you might just slip out one of these days.

The hardest part of Josh’s day was at five o’clock, when your boyfriend would meet you at the door and walk out to the parking lot with you.  Josh would smile and wave goodbye, pretending like it didn’t burn every fiber of his being watching you lace your fingers with his and smile into his side as you exited the building.  Then, he’d slowly gather his things and head to his own car, wishing you were at his side.  

You and Josh had been friends ever since you started working in Columbus two years ago.  Two entire years, and Josh still swears it was the minute you walked in on your first day, a spot of dried toothpaste on your chin, that he fell completely in love with you.  

He spent that entire first week getting to know you, and the next planning out ways he could ask you out.  He’d never been more sure that he’d finally met the person he was meant to be with.  His soulmate, if you will.  Josh had been waiting in his car for your gray SUV to pull in one morning.   He planned on exiting at the same time as you, playing it off as a harmless coincidence, and then walking with you up to the third floor.  It was a cold December morning when he saw Lucas for the first time.  Then of course he didn’t know his name.  He knew the man as someone driving you to work, with broad shoulders and a trimmed beard.  He leaned over the center console and planted a kiss right on your lips before making a U-turn and exiting the parking lot.  Josh had let his head drop and made a beeline for the door, trying his best to ignore you calling his name and the gut-wrenching dread he felt.  

That was two years ago, and Josh still hadn’t moved on.  How could he when you sat only feet away from him?  Spreading your infectious laugh and always there to make him smile?  No, Josh hadn’t moved on.  Instead, he’d just learned to live with it.  He swallowed his feelings and instead focused on the friendship that you two shared, no matter how much it killed him inside.  It was always about more than friendship, and he knew it from the start. Even though that is what he loved most about you. Falling in love was quick, easy, inevitable. You would talk and laugh and be happy. If life is a series of moments, then it was those innocent instances that defined Josh for the longest time.

But falling also hurt.  You were his everything. And you were his best friend. You told each other everything, but he had to keep his biggest secret hidden from you.  On that first day, even if she didn’t remember it, he could see a future. Your future together. And for that split second he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to forget about the rest of the world and focus on you. But there were no messing this up. This was you, and it was really just complicated.

Josh sat in his car in the parking lot the next morning eating his breakfast and occasionally warming up his hands in front of the air vents. Just as he was finishing off his bagel, there was a soft knock on his window. It took him half a second to realize it was you; your coat was zipped up to your chin and your beige scarf covered most of your face. Josh quickly got out of his car and you both exchanged hellos in the still-dark parking lot.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks, shivering a little in the cold winter air.

“Lucas and I kind of had another spat last night and I wanted to get out before he woke up…" you trail off. Josh’s jaw clenches at the mention of his name.  ”What about you?“

“One of my biggest clients is a morning person, if I don’t call him by 8am sharp, his account is as good as closed, so I wanted to get here early and go over his file.”

“So you got here before the sunrise?”

“It’s a big file,” Josh says with a smile.

You chuckle and then looked over to the far end of the parking lot, “Hey, come with me.”

It was one of those commands Josh didn’t have to hear twice. He followed you, his hand in his pockets and his nose buried in his own scarf. You both walked over to the edge of the lot, and you stepped up on the curb, standing on your tip-toes. Josh furrowed his eyebrows.

“Come on, Josh,” you say playfully.

He laughed nervously before following your actions. He faced the direction you were facing and saw that through the fence there was a perfect view of the distance hills on the east side of town. The sky was thick and dark blue and the hills looked outlined with gold. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the buildings of Columbus went from grays to a bright mixture of yellows and oranges.

Josh glanced over at you as you looked at the view, smiling wide, the sun hitting your eyes. Josh could never quite tell, your eyes always looked hazel and sadly dull in the florescent light of the office, but for the first time his saw their true color: a brilliant green with splashes of brown near the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah, really is,” Josh says, still looking straight at you.

“We should go inside,” you said quietly, noticing his insistent stare from your corner view.  “I’m freezing.”

Josh nods, eyes lingering on the view a moment longer before he trails behind you inside the building.  

It’s habit, more than anything else, that has Josh lingering in the break room when he sees the tired lines in your face three days later. It’s instinct, to ask you if you want to talk. To take a seat at the table before he has a chance to consider the implications of what he’s just offered.

Besides, first and foremost, he’s your friend.

More than anything, he wants you to be happy.  And if there’s something he can do to ease the tension in your shoulders, to watch the frustrated crease in your brow fade back into familiar calm, then he will. Of course he will.

Being the one to elicit a smile from you is worth the cost of his own discomfort.

Patiently, he listens to your perspective on the misunderstanding between yourself and Lucas, he tries to detach himself from the situation enough to give you the sort of sincere and thoughtful advice he’d extend to anyone in that position. But he doesn’t want your thanks — your gratitude that much worse because it’s genuine.  

Josh had served as the backboard for you since he met you.  He was always around to listen.  Maybe he was imagining it, but it seemed like you and Lucas had been fighting more and more lately.  He hated seeing you upset on a daily basis in the break room and he tried to ignore the sliver of hope he felt inside.  

Apparently last night had been bad.  Josh can tell the minute he sees your puffy eyes and quivering lip.  

“What happened?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shrug, trying to be brave, but the tears fall anyway.  “He threw a glass at the wall next to me last night.  He was drunk… muttering about how he thought I was cheating on him.”

“Oh my god—“ Josh said, gut dropping as he imagined how scared you must have been in that moment.

“I don’t think he’d ever hurt me or anything.  But I was scared.”

“What’d you do?” he asks, taking the seat at the table across from you.

You curled your hands around your mug of coffee, “I left.  Went to my moms.  I think it’s over.  I mean, it has to be, right?”

Josh wants to blurt out a gigantic yes, but instead he empathetically furrows his brows and nods softly, “I definitely don’t like the idea of you being scared.” And without thinking, he reaches his hand across the table and touches yours softly.  

Your eyes shoot down to where your hands touch, all of a sudden you feel so nervous.  You pull back and drag your coffee mug to your chest.  

“I should get back to work.”

Josh has a hard time focusing the rest of the day.  It was over.  You said that.  It was over and maybe, just maybe, Josh had a chance here.  He’d be your friend first, of course.  Just like it’d always had been.  He wouldn’t rush you.  But now he had a chance to prove how much you truly meant to him.  He was elated.  Lighter and more hopeful than he’d felt in months.  

It all comes crashing down with the sound of the office door opening and closing. Josh’s fists clench at his side the minute he sees Lucas walk through the doors.  He’s ready to get up and ward him off if necessary; the idea of him yelling at you makes his blood boil.  But he watches from his desk instead, as Lucas makes his way to you, gently tapping your shoulder and whispering something in your ear.  

Your initial reaction is wide eyes, filled with what is that?  Fear?  It fades quickly, morphs into anger.  Then sympathy.  Josh watches as you grab your coat from the back of your chair and willingly follow him up to reception.  You mutter something to the secretary before continuing out the door without looking back.  

“He apologized, and he really was just so sincere.  I think he really meant it.”

Josh nods and takes another swig of coffee, which was lukewarm by now.  He cringes.  

“Sounds it,” he says dully.  Not even he can fake enhance the amount of enthusiasm in his voice.  

“What’s that?” you ask, offended by his dull tone.

He looks at you and raises an eyebrow.  Disappointment and anger and frustration all boiling under the surface of his skin after seeing you and Lucas kissing in the parking lot again this morning, so he decides for the first time in a long time; to be honest.

“No, it’s just I’ve heard all of this before.  It gets a bit old is all.”

“It gets a bit old?” you repeat, stunned by his response.

“Yeah you and Lucas.  He does something nasty, you break up or contemplate breaking up, then he apologizes with roses or chocolates or what was it this time?  Perfume?  Same story, different version.  Can’t blame me for getting bored with it.”

And then Josh walks straight out of the break room and back to his desk, where there’s a light flashing on his phone.  He presses the button and pulls up a chair to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Josh, it’s Craig from Corporate.  Meant to catch you before lunch, but I wanted to talk to you about a job opening here in Detroit.  It’d be a promotion for you.  More pay, more duties, all that.  Give me a call back with the details if you’re interested.  Thanks.”

It ended in the parking lot, the blooming seed of happiness that lived deep in his chest was fading, right next to his heart.  It was his best friend, his sole support, the girl of his life who made everything just a little bit better. It was you standing there, your jaw dropping with surprise and Josh with his entire heart and soul on the line.

It was Josh that changed the game. This game of yours, the little dance of just barely something more than friends.  He had nothing left to lose, because he couldn’t do it anymore.  So he gave himself an ultimatum.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she turns you down, you can accept the job.  Tell her you love her.  Tell her and if she loves you back, you can live happily ever after.  

The words hang thickly in the air.  “I love you, Y/N.  I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

You stand still in your spot, eyes watering and eyebrows furrowed with confusion and surprise.  And for a quick second, Josh thinks you might say it back.  But then you drop your clenched fist to your side and you let out a loud, inconvenient sigh and it’s amazing how quick his gut picks up on the rejection.  It drops as you start muttering about how “you can’t” and  “you have a boyfriend.”

“Listen, Josh—“

But that’s all. Because Josh clearly doesn’t want to listen. His hands wrap around you and Lucas has never held you like you’re this precious.  It’s gentle  and firm, warm and large, pulling you softly towards him, gathering you, even as his mouth falls against yours, just as lightly, just a hint of pressure and you feel so small against him, against this unspoken message that he loves you. And it’s powerful.

“Josh—“ you say, finally pulling back.  

He freezes, jerks away, his hands still gentle, even as his eyes are screaming, those big brown eyes that love you. “You’re really going to be with him?”

Your ‘yes’ is locked into your throat and tears fill your eyes, but somehow you can’t look away as you destroys your best friend from the inside out. There are a million reasons to stay with Lucas and only one to leave him, because you maybe love Josh, but you maybe don’t love Josh, and it’s that thought that makes you nod.  


You can’t blame him when he walks away, when he holds on to your hands for as long as possible, even as he can’t look you in the eyes. You want him to look at you. You want him to fight for you, but you know that’s unfair to ask him. But you don’t want to lose him and you somehow know you’re going to and you need him to understand, but before you know it… he’s gone.

It’s not as if you’ve never seen his desk without him sitting there, because of course you have. He’s stayed home sick, made occasional use of his vacation days, gone on client calls — you know what the office looks like when the shape of him is missing, it’s the permanence of it that hurts.  

As you settle in that first day of Josh’s absence, you hang your coat up and take a seat, You let yourself miss him as a coworker and as a best friend and that’s it. Work will be work, with or without Josh Dun.

But that’s a lie, because of course it hurts like hell.

Each day it’s harder, when it starts to sink in that this doesn’t mean a handful of days out recovering from the flu or visiting his family, but that there is a new and permanent Josh-sized hole in the fabric of you. So you play sudoku to avoid noticing the absence of his voice and

you doodle in notebook margins during conference room meetings to ignore all the jokes he can’t whisper in your ear.  

As the day goes on, regret floods deeper within you.  You always knew Josh was your best friend.  But you probably always always knew he was more than that too.  You just wished you’d been brave enough to see that.

That night you break up with Lucas.  This time, there’s no yelling or screaming or wine glasses thrown against the wall.  It’s respectable and understood that they are just not meant to be.  You thought there’d be a Lucas-sized hole inside of you now too, but there’s not.  Instead, it just makes room for Josh’s hole to grow bigger.  

It’s twenty past five and you’ve got your coat on and bag in hand when the phone rings.

You debate for a moment about answering it — after all, technically you shouldn’t even still be here.

But, well, you are still there, so it’s equal parts obligation and impulse that has you reaching for the handset and saying, “Hello?” with a slightly tired edge in your tone.

“Uh, hey.”

And — oh, oh.

“Oh my god.”


“Um… Hi.”

Witty. Clever. Exactly the kind of thing you’d imagined herself saying to Josh when you finally reconnected after too-many-weeks of silence.

“Sorry, I needed a number from Mark.  It’s a co-client thing—”


“—and I was just gonna leave a voicemail, because I didn’t think anyone would be there.”

It’s hard not to wonder if Josh had been making an open effort to avoid you on purpose, if he’d waited to call until twenty past five because you were supposed to be gone and he’s supposed to get an machine instead.  

“Why are you still there?”

“I had to work late.” And then, because that sounds flimsy, goes on. “Well I didn’t have to, but there were just some open files I wanted to finish up.”

“Wow,” he says, the faint tone of amusement in his voice.  “Wow, they’ve really changed you Y/L/N.  Going above and beyond, that’s not you.”

And you’re smiling—because it’s Josh and you aren’t sure your face is capable of behaving any other way around him—but there’s something nervous and careful in the lines of your expression that isn’t usually there. You’ve missed him, but knows that a subtle shift occurred in their relationship that can’t be undone, that things might never be as easy as they once were.

“Everything else is pretty much the same here.” Except—god, no—of course it isn’t.


You change up your previous statement. “A little different.” Because you need him to understand that even though the routines of the office cycle on, no part of that environment could ever be the same to you without him there. Then you ask, “what time is it there?”

“…What time is it here?” He pauses, something uncertain and unsure in his tone. “Um, we’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“How far apart did you think we were?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, embarrassed. “It feels really far.” And you can hear his thoughtful, quiet agreement that suggests it’s more than just the miles dividing Columbus and Detroit that’s currently between them.

It took you until the next morning to get your act together.  You were walking into the building, the sun rising across the lot, and you felt it.  A crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket.  You gripped it in your fist before pulling it out, unwrapping the paper and trying to make out the scrubbed words.

You can’t get rid of me that easy.” It was a note from Josh.  One from back before the airplane competition, where they’d bet on how many green M&M’s were in the jar resting on reception.  You’d beat him easily, leaving time to gloat on how he should just give up on betting against you, cause you always won, just like you did every other time you two bet on something.  Josh had left the note on your desk with the soda you’d won.  

You could feel the tears surfacing, blurring your vision as you turned in your spot and starting walking all the way back to your car.  You opened the note up again after you’d sat in the driver’s seat, unfolding the paper and running your hands over Josh’s scratchy scrawl and letting yourself feel what was long overdue.  It all floods in at once.  The despair, the guilt, the regret.  But also the love and admiration and memories of laughing, smiling, feeling lighter than ever around him.  

You didn’t think twice as you flicked your blinker on to turn onto the highway headed towards Detroit.

The city was so close down the road, you could see the outline of hazy buildings out of the window.  You stared diligently ahead, running through what you were going to exactly say to Josh when the time came.  But before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot of the Detroit branch, sliding into the spot beside Josh’s car as an automatic reflex, and you still had no idea what you were doing, what you would say. Yet your feet trudged up to the front door, almost like a little girl who knew that you had to admit to your mother that you’d smashed her favorite vase, because it had to be done, you just weren’t quite ready for the aftermath. There were no obstacles now.  No Lucas or unacknowledged feelings and you were sure that’s what scared you the most. What if, after all this time, Josh had just had enough?  What if you just weren’t meant to be?

You walked right up to reception, waiting until the woman hung up the phone before telling her you were here to see Josh.

“Y/N?” his familiar voice rings through the air and when you look over, you can see him taking off his headset and standing up from his desk.  “What are you doing here?” There’s a hint of curiosity and surprise and maybe even a little excitement in his voice.  

You couldn’t tell him here.  You had to go somewhere more private.  

“Could we um, talk?” you say quietly, offering him the slightest smile even amidst your nerves.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me just grab my coat—“ he motions back towards his desk with his thumb, where you see his familiar dark blue fabric hanging off from the back of his chair.  You wait patiently with your arms crossed across your chest, bouncing on the backs of your heels.

“All set?” he says, hand buried deep within his pockets.

You walk down to the parking lot in silence, still pondering what you were going to say to Josh in your head.  

“How’s Detroit?” you asked after thanking him for holding the door open for you.  You wanted to stall as long as possible.

Josh chuckles, “Common, Y/N.  You didn’t drive three and a half hours to Detroit to ask me how the city is.”

You blush, of course you didn’t.  But you still didn’t know what to say to him.  To Josh.  The man you loved, completely and wholly, with everything inside of you.

You could feel your cheeks growing hot as you thought about what you were about to admit.  You’d had so much courage built up inside of you before, but now, it was quickly draining.  You had to say it before you were completely empty.

“I miss you.”

Your heart’s still thumping like crazy, banging against your ribs, and you’re not entirely sure what you just said.

And Josh didn’t say anything back to you, but it wasn’t like you said all the stuff that you were thinking to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you continue, your voice wavering.

Josh shakes his head. “I’m okay.“

You nod. There’s a silence, long enough that you worry you’re not going to be able to say it all and nothing will happen and you’ll go back to being scared and afraid. You want to be someone who says what they feel.

“It’s just— the office isn’t the same and… I miss you.  I miss you a lot, Josh. I miss my best friend.”

“It can’t be that way again, Y/N,” he says. “I wasn’t your best friend. I was in love with you.”

“We could be friends now. Just go back to the way things were—“ you weren’t sure why you were burying your feelings again, but it was instinctual.  

"No,” he says. He’s standing so still, arms at his sides.  ”What you miss – that wasn’t friends. That was us… that was me being something more. All the time. And I can’t do that anymore.  It hurt too much.”

You feel kind of sick, but a little voice in the back of your head says you should be grateful for whatever happened, because it was better than being endlessly, endlessly quiet.

“Then I’m really sorry,” you say at last. “Because I miss that.”

“What do you think that means?” he asks, and there’s a little heat in his voice. “What do you think you’re really missing?”

This morning you would have undoubtedly ducked your head and avoided the question, or flat-out lied. Now though, you had driven three and a half hours and you’re standing in front of Josh, far enough away that you have to speak up for him to hear.

“I know what it means,” you say quietly. “And you know.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. You’ve made it clear you only wanted to be friends.”

“I don’t think I’ve made anything clear,” you say, and for the first time you have the urge to move closer, speak more softly, because this is the hard part, the thing you couldn’t say in front of everyone else. “I should have been honest a long time ago, and I know that, but I couldn’t until I knew what I wanted.”

“Do you?” he asks after a moment, his voice low. “Know?”

You take a big breath, letting the oxygen go to your head, willing back the feeling you had just before you ran up to the third floor. “I want to feel the way I did when I was with you, back before you moved to Detroit.  I don’t want to be lonely, and I want to redo the past two years except it made me figure out a lot of things about myself, so I don’t know. I want stuff to be easy, Josh, and it isn’t, and I thought that maybe if we could be friends again I could have one thing in my life that made me happy, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whips against you, making you shiver.

“Why can’t you say it?” he asks.

“Would anything change if I did?”

“I don’t know, everything changed when I said it.”

“Fuck it,” you say, the cold air filling your lungs, “I love you.  I have loved you but I was with Lucas and I was afraid and I didn’t know it.  And I’m still afraid, but I know it now.”

You stare and wait for his reaction, hoping with everything inside of you that you weren’t too late.  But the look on Josh’s face, the sad, almost pitiful stare, gave you reason to believe that you were.

And your courage drained for good.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping a tear falling down your cheek, “I shouldn’t have come.  I’m gonna get going.  It was nice to see you,” you mumble before turning away and heading towards your car.

When Josh saw you turn away, it was as if lightning struck him. All he could see was your back, stiff and tense, walking back towards your car, parked near his, and suddenly he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how it had come to this. The last several months had turned you both into people he didn’t even recognize anymore, and he blamed himself.

You were all he ever wanted. You were the one he saw in his dreams and imagined in his fantasies for years on end, and he had you. It was supposed to be forever, but all he seemed to do anymore was hurt you. The Josh from six weeks ago would absolutely kill him for that. The Josh from six weeks ago would feel about him like he used to feel about Lucas. Lucas took you for granted, and didn’t consider your feelings.

Like Josh was doing now.

He sprinted toward you, his long legs reaching yours in just a couple of long strides, and he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t stop to explain. He simply wrapped his arms all the way around you, and held you close. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t reciprocate immediately. He pulled you closer. He buried his face in your hair, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to breathe you in. He remembered the electric shock of when you first met (for him, anyway), how it felt to love you and not be able to have you.  He couldn’t let himself let it slip away.

You finally wrapped your arms around him, and he felt a small shudder go through you. You pulled back and he could see your face crumple just before you took his face in both hands and kissed him. When you parted, you were both smiling as said, “I love you” in unison.  He hugged her so tightly he almost picked you up off from the ground.

Long Live - Chapter 2

I’m so happy so many people liked Chapter 1! Thank you all so much for your kind words and messages!! I’ve decided that updates will hopefully be Sundays and Thursdays or as close to that schedule as i can get them.

Summary: Virgil was everything a future prince shouldn’t be. The quiet, antisocial kid at school who was the last person anyone ever expected to be the future leader of a faraway country. Luckily, that’s what Roman was there for.

Pairing: Prinxiety 

Words: 2303

Tag List: @eternal-sanders @eternalsavvyskies @generalofthefangirlarmy@ireblogstuff-andineedalife @isnt-that-wizard @de-is-me @fander-berb @deadprinxietywalking @datonerougecookeh @aaliyahadams1738 @hetaliagurl5 @ilovemyspoopydad @ai-logical @thegreatdot @protecterofalltheaus @fandomsandanythingelse @cutie5780 @bleebtheweeb @justanotherpurplebutterfly @wizxrdscorbus @imnotcrazy-i-swaer @soulydyingalone
If you wanna be tagged just let me know or like or reblog this post: here!

Chapter 1  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9 Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12

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What Happens In Vegas... (Part 1)

Originally posted by nerdyfandomimagines

Summary: After a nasty breakup, you head to Vegas to try and have some fun, only to find yourself completely overwhelmed and alone. However, your bartender comes to the rescue, making you an offer you don’t want to refuse. Thanks to him, your week long vacation certainly turns out differently than you could have ever expected.

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Bucky story and I am so excited! It was written for @bionic-buckyb‘s AU Writing Challenge in celebration of 5k followers. My prompt was ‘vegas’, so I really hope I did it justice! I’m planning on turning this into a mini-series, so please, let me know what you think!!! 

Warnings: Language; mentions of cheating; pure, teeth rotting fluff; heavy make-out session

Word Count: Roughly 5,000 (yikes)


Sliding onto the stool with a sigh, you propped your chin on your hand and stared at the colorful bottles of various alcohols in front of you. This was so not how you wanted to spend this night, but it was better than locking yourself in your room like a hermit. If you were being honest, just thinking about the next few days made anxious nerves twist in your stomach. This trip was mistake, I should’ve just left well enough alone-

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The deep voice broke your trance, bringing your attention to the bartender.

“I’ll have a shot of Patrón,” you mumbled, straightening up and pointing at the bottle. “Silver, please.” You watched as he poured the liquid into the glass, picking it up and slamming it back as soon as it was full. Shoving it back toward him with a grimace, you cleared your throat before speaking again, trying to talk around the burn. “Hit me.”

Not taking your eyes off the glass, you watched as he poured you another, once again slamming it back and repeating the request. After the third, you needed a break.

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Roommates (Part 1?)

Summary: When you’re forced to rent out your extra room, Im Jaebum was the last person you expected to have to share your living space with… luckily, he keeps things interesting.

Genre: romance, hot roommate (I think i just made up this genre???), prbly smut later tbh (sorry)

Word Count: ~1000

A/N: Hey guys/gals/all!!! Okay so this is my first ever like real original content so it may be a lil rough but let me know what you think and all that fun stuff!!! I’m thinking about continuing it and adding some… ya know… but it will all depend, so for rn it’s all pretty chill.  Also special thanks to @jaybleep​ bc Julia helped motivate me enough to do this and I 10/10 recommend following her if you don’t already!! 

UPDATE: Part 2 is now posted! 

UPDATE (AGAIN): So is Part 3!

Originally posted by magiccastles

“No, really, it’s fine Jen. I completely understand. I could never ask you to turn down a job offer like this,” y/n said, sighing into the phone.

“I’m so sorry,” Jen began, “I feel awful backing out on you like this, especially knowing how steep the rent is going to be without me”. She allowed her fingers to absentmindedly trace the rim of the coffee mug sitting in front of her while apologies continued flooding through the phone. After being inseparable since 6th grade, the two were both excited to finally share a small house together. It took months of searching, but eventually they stumbled upon the perfect place… well, what was the perfect place.

“It’s only for a little while, I promise. My boss says the move will be a year, max. Then I’ll come back and we can live the way we’ve been planning to!” Jen chirped, her speech optimistic and excessively bright. Y/n knew her friend’s overly happy tone was just a strategy she was implementing as an attempt to cheer both of them up, but it did bring her some comfort regardless. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I think I can manage for that long,” she teased, trying to hide the still-lingering disappointment from her voice. Jen had been working in the same accounting firm for a few years now, and had been offered a higher-paying position if she was willing to temporarily relocate to Cincinnati. The idea of being without her for such an extended period of time was difficult to think about, but y/n knew this was an opportunity of a lifetime for her best friend. 

“Thank you so much for understanding, y/n. You’re the best. I have to go, but text me if you need anything.” The friends exchanged quick goodbyes before hanging up on one another. She cleared her mug and now-empty plate from the table, dumping the remainder of the lukewarm coffee and rinsing her dishes off before placing them in the sink. Silence filled the air around her, and morning sunlight streamed in through the windows. Although the house was already beginning to feel a little more like home, y/n was quickly beginning to realize it wouldn’t be the same without her best friend there to share it. Deciding not to dwell too long on the phone call, she surveyed the floor littered with boxes before walking over and plopping down in the center of the chaos.


Four hours and twenty boxes later, a majority of the unpacking was done. Filled with a sense of accomplishment, y/n stood up and strolled to the freezer for a well-deserved serving of ice cream.  As she passed her phone sitting on the kitchen counter, she noticed a series of texts left over two hours ago from Jen.

I don’t know how, but I totally forgot to mention that I found someone to take my room in the house!! I’ve got so many things going on rn, it must have just slipped my mind. 

His name is Jaebum. I don’t know him, but he’s my older brother’s friend from college and needs a place to stay for a while I guess.  

Apparently he’s pretty cool and won’t cause too much trouble for you. He’s looking to move in tomorrow actually (sorry I literally suck, I have no idea how I forgot about this???), so just lmk if it’s alright with you and I’ll give him the okay

Y/n’s thoughts were soon clouded with worry. Before she’d even been given the chance to fully process the idea that Jen would no longer be her roommate, she was already getting a new one… and one of the opposite sex, for that matter. The idea of a guy living in such close proximity made her uneasy. After all, she had been expecting to lounge around in her extra large pajama shirt all day on Sundays, and be able to walk freely down the hallway without pants on. Surely she couldn’t do those things with a stranger present. Even worse, the possibility of him being a horrible human being loomed in her mind. Granted, Jen’s brother usually had nice enough friends, but there was no saying what this one would be like. Before y/n got too lost in her own thoughts, she punched out a simple “sure” to Jen, deciding it would be best to let him move in tomorrow instead of waiting anxiously for a few more days. Fear overwhelmed her, and she nearly threw her phone across the room after hitting send, not wanting to look at Jen’s response and face the reality of it all. 


After a long night, y/n was jolted awake at 7:30 by the chiming of the doorbell. Dragging her feet, she shuffled down the hall, wondering who in their right mind would want to move in this early in the day. When her hand finally brushed against the brass knob of the door, she flung it open.

“You know,” she began while yawning and clearing the sleep from her eyes, “you didn’t have to…” her voice caught mid-sentence as she suddenly forgot how to breathe. Standing in front of her was a man slightly taller than average height, combing his dark hair back with his fingers, which were adorned with a few silver rings. Although he was dressed in a simple blue t-shirt and dark jeans with a black backpack casually slung over his shoulder, he still looked like something out of a magazine. He waited to see if she would finish her statement before awkwardly clearing his throat and offering his hand.

“So… I’m Jaebum. You must be…”

He was stunning, almost too much to take in at once. His even skin was a light toffee color with a slight pink tinting the full lips that graced his face. She noticed several hoops peppering his ears while his narrow, deep brown eyes gazed intensely at her, waiting for the response she should have given thirty seconds ago instead of observing him like he was a piece of classical artwork.  

“Y/n,” she replied, practically choking on her words.

“Y/n…” he repeated tentatively, lowering his outstretched hand and giving her a concerned look. “Well, uh, nice to meet you I suppose. Is it alright if I start to move my things in, or are we going to stand in the doorway all day?” he chuckled. After a few more silent moments, she wordlessly stepped back and raised her arm, motioning him inside. 

Walking In The Dark

Originally posted by korea-underqround

“Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light. You know I got your back baby girl.” Joon Kyung gave you a comforting warm hug. You had failed yet another audition. Your dream was to become part of a girl group so you could rap and dance.

Joon Kyung was also on his way up he had recently decided enough was enough and left All Black. He had decided he would do things the way he wanted, his way. Your arms wrapped around him appreciating that he had walked you home. “Thanks Joon Kyung you’re the best.“

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Before The King [Part 1 / ?]

Post-Civil War Series

Pairing: T’Challa x Ex-Avenger!Reader

Request(s): @voynasoldat : oh gosh I definitely need another T'Challa fic I’m sweating over here! Maybe one where Tony hosts a fancy party and T'Challa gets all blushy bc of the reader wearing a very nice dress and stuff and later he sees a guy trying to flirt with her but reader looks uncomfortable so T walks up and just kisses the reader.

@kissofvenom922 : I was thinking that the reader is an avenger and when T'challa comes to visit reader make cat jokes with Sam

Characters: Reader, T’Challa, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, Clint Barton, Okoye (Comic Character), Mentions of Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, and Tony Stark.

Warnings: CIVIL WAR SPOILERS, Suggestive Language, and Use of Alcohol.

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: If you haven’t seen Civil War then I HIGHLY advise to NOT read this until you have! I’m officially transitioning and I loved writing this. I got to grasp T’Challa’s personality kinda as a whole. x. T

Your name: submit What is this?

The Raft  |  1 Week After Airport Battle 

           You had been listening to Scott hum the same song for two days straight, his fingers beating against the metal stool they had supplied in the cells you all were locked up in. Your back was pressed against your cells’ wall, your arm propped on the cot just to your left with your fingers wrapped tightly around locks of your hair, often tightening when Scott went from humming to singing the lyrics.

           “..went the distance now I’m back on my feet just a man and his will to survive!” Scott sang, his voice cracking at certain parts as he got into the song.

           You groaned and let your head fall back against the wall before you raised your voice, “Sam, just tell him to shut up already!”

           “Hey! It’s been a week since we’ve been locked in this joint and be thankful I don’t have the damn Spice Girls stuck in my head!” Scott stopped beating on the stool and hollered back to you. You pulled a face and knew he was right.

           Clint spoke up from his cell you weren’t able to see, “The ant dude has a point, Y/N.”

           “Why the hell does no one bother to use my name?” Scott complained loudly.

           “Can you all just shut the hell up?! I think someone’s about to come in,” Sam voiced with annoyance, instantly causing you all to quiet and attempt to look through the tint on the front of your cells towards the entrance. The sound of the heavy duty doors opening echoed through the silence and you strained your eyes to catch a glimpse of who it was.

           “I promised I’d get you guys out of here, didn’t I?”

           At the sound of Steve’s voice you scrambled to your feet and pressed your hands against the large tinted window, narrowing your eyes to—sure enough—see Steve’s figure standing in front of Sam’s cell. He had his hands shoved into a navy jacket, his khaki pants scuffed and spotted with what looked to be blood, but you immediately wondered where Bucky was.

           “Where’s Barnes?” Clint asked what you were thinking.

           Steve turned his head to look at the archer’s cell after putting in the passcode to free Sam. You couldn’t quite see the look he had, but you took his silence as Bucky not going to show face anytime soon. The soldier had grown on you within the short span of time you had gotten to know him and it was slightly heartbreaking that Steve lost his best friend once more.

           While Steve was working on the passcode for Clint’s cell, Sam crossed over to where you were holed-up and easily entered the code into the keypad off to the side. He obviously paid attention when the guards had released you to go on a bathroom break so it was relieving to have the vibranium bars in front of the glass window slide up and then the tinted glass to recede down into the floor.

           Sam’s face was still marked with the nasty bruises he had received from the showdown at the airport and you knew you didn’t look much better than he did. Sam’s lips curled into a smile and he raised his brows. “Ready to get out of this damn place?”

           “I’ve been ready since we stepped foot here,” You said. Sam chuckled lowly and turned to see Steve approaching with Wanda in tow. She looked visibly relieved now that she was out of the strait jacket and you were happy to see your team finally hopeful again.

           Steve met your gaze as he stopped beside Sam and you smiled at the soldier. “It’s good to see you again, Steve.”

           “It’s good to see you too, Y/N.” Steve nodded.

           “I hate to interrupt the powwow, but do you happen to know where our gear is?” Scott peered from behind Clint as they came over, his eyes flickering over the group in hopes that someone would be able to answer him directly for once.

           Steve turned to face Scott. “All of our gear is government property so if we use it, they’re going to force us to sign the Accords. It’s up to you all if you want to return to headquarters and have Tony help vouch for you. I won’t think any less of you all. You already have done enough for both Bucky and I.”

           “And what are you going to do, Captain?” Wanda questioned.

           He blew a steady breath out of his nose before meeting her eye. “I’m going back to Wakanda to lay low there for as long as I need to. T’Challa offered to shelter us and he already has Bucky hidden in a lab so if you want to come with me you can.” Steve let the offer sink into all of you before you, Sam, and Wanda accepted it.

           Scott had enough trouble with the law and Clint was officially retiring for good, no matter what trouble the Team got themselves into in the future. So as Steve explained to them where to find their gear and where one of Tony’s helicopters was stashed, you and Sam both left the cellblock to pick up a few weapons off the guards while Wanda stayed behind to bade her goodbye to Clint.

           By the time Steve led you all onto the Quinjet, Scott and Clint had long since left. You were all pelted with ocean spray and the harsh wind of the sea as you hiked up the ramp and into the aircraft, finally able to let down your guard at the promise of safety. Steve pushed up the lever to raise the hatch behind the three of you and your eyes immediately went to the pilot seat.

           Steve ordered, “We’re clear, Your Highness. Set the route to Wakanda and then I’ll take over.”

           T’Challa spoke up from the control console and you saw his arm lift up to flick on a few switches in order to take flight. “Copy that, Captain.” His smoothly accented voice rang throughout the aircraft and you forgot just how attractive it was the first time you met him, even if he was trying to get to Bucky.

           Sam tapped your shoulder to draw your attention and you turned to see him strapped into a chair, already buckled in for the rough flight over the stormy ocean. You smiled sheepishly before settling into the chair next to him, sliding your arms through the straps and forcing the clamps together to keep you secure.

           Steve paused as he passed and asked, “Are you good, Y/N?”

           You nodded and he continued to the cockpit, taking over for T’Challa. The King of Wakanda picked up his helmet from where it rest by the seat and gracefully moved over to the chair across from you. You saw he was wearing his Black Panther suit as he sat down to secure himself and he must’ve sensed you watching because his dark eyes flickered up to lock with yours, causing your breath to hitch slightly. T’Challa bowed his head to you and his lips curled into a soft smile.

           “I hope this may make up for my actions in the past,” He said, “I was consumed in vengeance and now I know where my fault lies. I apologize for any harm I caused.”

           You recognized how sincere his words were and you smiled at the King.

           “Apology accepted, Your Highness.”

.  .   .

Wakanda  |  6 Weeks Later

           It had been six weeks since you first landed in Wakanda and you could easily say you had been pampered by the King. He insisted that you would have your own villa to stay in while in his country and it was only a few miles from his palace, hidden in the surrounding jungle with a wonderful view of a gorgeous lake.

           Wanda stayed in the villa with you and you both became even closer than you were before. With Sam and Steve off trying to recover HYDRA files, it left you and Wanda to adapt to the new way of life of hiding within the foreign African country. It was normal to have T’Challa or one of his personal guards—the Dora Milaje—stop by and check in, often leaving gifts that were mainly to you but Wanda also received some too.

           You were laying in a hammock strung up between two columns supporting the upper level of the villa, softly swaying side to side as you let the early morning sunlight warm your skin. The jungle was awakening all around you and the air was filled with exotic bird calls that had become so normal to you that you just tuned out the noise.

           The sliding door to the balcony opened and Wanda leaned against the entryway, crossing her arms over her chest. “T’Challa is here. He wants to talk to you.”

           You peeled an eye open to see her wearing a deep purple nightgown, her skin bronzed from being in the African sun, and she held a grumpy expression. You sighed and sat up carefully, lightly hopping out of the hammock to step past her into the beautifully decorated living room of the villa. Your bare feet padded quietly over the glossed wooden floorboards as you moved towards the foyer, picking up a light colored cardigan as you passed the couch. You tugged the cardigan around you and made sure to cover up as much as possible, seeing as you only were wearing a tank top and pair of black underwear.

           You caught sight of T’Challa’s familiar form looming over beside the fish tank, his small platoon of Dora Milaje spread strategically throughout the foyer; all dressed elegantly. You took post beside a small bookshelf, crossing your arms over your chest as you gazed at T’Challa.

           “Your Highness.” The woman who had been personally assigned to watch over the villa spoke up, drawing his attention.

           T’Challa turned to face you, a smooth handsome smile spreading over his features. “Good morning, umhle.” You brushed off the name he had begun to call you by in his native tongue, eyes following his figure as he moved to stand a few feet in front of you.

           “Good morning, Your Highness.” You said, your voice tinged with a light Wakandan accent.

           “Please, call me T’Challa.”

           “Your—T’Challa,” You emphasized his name drawing a nod out of him, “Do you mind if I ask why you are here? This is the third time this week.” You glanced back at Wanda in hopes she knew why he was here, but she just slightly shook her head.

           The King chuckled softly and turned to gesture at one of his Dora Milaje, they stepped forward and handed him a small sack that was weighed down by something quite heavy. T’Challa dipped his hand into the bag and pulled out a perfectly fat and ripe mango, he ran his thumb over the darkened skin of the fruit, and smiled at Wanda.

           “I heard your friend liked the mangoes I brought last time.” He let the mango fall back into the sack before he bunched it up and handed it to the woman who would’ve been the only one to have told him about Wanda’s appreciation of the delicious African fruit. He continued, “But, that’s not why I’ve come. Captain Rogers has requested you both be invited to the dining party held at the palace, it is tonight.”

           Wanda stepped up beside you and asked, “Will we be safe from the UN?”

           “Yes, I personally chose the guest list. Though Mr. Stark and Agent Romanoff will be attending the party, so would you want to have Okoye accompany you throughout the party?” T’Challa gestured to the Dora Milaje woman who had protected you and Wanda since you stepped foot in Wakanda.

           Okoye was a tall, regal woman with flawless dark skin. Her hair had been shaved off as part of the tradition for being a part of the Dora Milaje and in her ears were large gold hoops. She hovered next to the open kitchen entryway, her chocolate eyes carefully watching the exchange.

           You shot her an apologetic look. “No offense, but I think she’s going to be watching over us regardless.” Okoye’s lips curled up at your words and she looked fine with what you said. T’Challa didn’t have anything to say because he knew you were right.

           He pursed his lips and glanced at your own personal Dora Milaje. “I had Okoye confide in what you shall wear to the party.” Another woman stepped up holding two black boxes, you and Wanda both grasped the boxes marked in your initials. T’Challa said, “I have not seen the dresses.”

           “Thank you, T’Challa.” Wanda’s eyes were bright and she looked truly excited about the dress she had received. You then realized that you had to release the cardigan to grab the box and it lay splayed open, exposing your underwear and lower stomach. T’Challa respectably maintained eye contact.

           He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and looked to be ready to leave. He slightly bowed his head to Wanda before stepping towards you, causing you to slightly shy way by his looming presence. T’Challa searched your eyes for a moment before he pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, setting it over your initials.

           He lowered his voice so no one could hear, “A gift of my own, umhle.” You stared at the little box before T’Challa moved back towards the front door. He then waved. “I’ll see you tonight. Hambani kakuhle.” The King disappeared out onto the porch and his form was hidden behind the three Dora Milaje he had accompany him, the women escorting him out to his vehicle.

           Okoye shut the door after them and locked it, turning to face you and Wanda. She approached with an inhuman grace, her heels softly clicking on the floorboards. Okoye’s accent was much different than T’Challa’s and very heavy, but her voice was soothing and held a sense of power; her English not quite perfected.

           “We have very busy day ahead. I scheduled King’s personal stylist to do hair and makeup,” Okoye informed.

           Wanda let the woman take her dress out of her hands before you placed your gifts atop the box. Okoye moved to set them on the large black rock that had grinded down to serve as a coffee table. You followed Wanda into the kitchen and brushed past her as she pulled open the fridge, the sack of fruits lay on the marble center island and you brought it closer to you.

           “Hey, Wanda?” You snagged her attention from grabbing a yogurt.

           She saw you pull out a piece of paper from the sack and Wanda immediately shut the fridge, coming to stand at your shoulder to read the note with you. It was from Steve and T’Challa obviously wanted to keep it between both you and Wanda.

           ‘Y/N and Wanda,

                       T’Challa must have told you about the party already, but he didn’t tell you that Sam and I will be returning to attend. We will update you when you see us, but our efforts have brought us from Siberia to Ukraine. I hope you both have been treated well underneath T’Challa’s care and he mentioned assigning a “Dora Milaje”? I don’t know what that is, but I hope to see you both at the party.

           I promise we aren’t missing any limbs.



           Wanda smiled and picked up a mango when you folded the note and pushed it back into the sack. The red glow of her magic began to twirl around her fingers before the mango slowly levitated above her palm, her magic bunched around the bottom of the fruit as if holding it up before Wanda swiftly cut the mango into even slices. Wanda lowered the slices to the countertop and the red glow disappeared.

           “There is a reason knives exist, Wanda.” You gestured to the cutlery on the other side of the kitchen beside the stove. She rolled her eyes and took a bite of mango, a soft hum of contentment leaving her mouth.

           “Y/N?” Okoye’s voice carried from the living room and you stepped around the counter to lean against a column, seeing she had taken your dress out of the box.

           It was in a special bag but you could full well see the gorgeous gown. Your jaw went slack and Okoye had her brows raised in surprise, staring at the black dress that had glittering diamonds collected all around the neckline and shoulders, before they began to scatter and dissolve into the pure black of the sleeves and waistline. Knowing T’Challa, every single one of the diamonds was real and that dress was probably more expensive than one of Tony’s suits.

           “I believe the cat’s got your tongue, Y/N.” Wanda mumbled from behind you.

.  .  .

T’Challa’s Palace  |  8 Hours Later

           Okoye got out of the SUV first, standing by the door as Wanda slid out behind her. She was unsteady in her heels but she managed to hold her own, brushing her hands over the deep maroon-colored dress when she saw all the people making their way down the beautiful walkway and into the palace. You stepped out of the car and warily took post beside Wanda, fidgeting with the ring T’Challa had gifted you with that was placed on your right hand.

           “Don’t worry. The King make sure you in good hands.” Okoye reassured and it was amazing watching her change within an instant. At the villa she showed more expression and spoke quite often, but she had hardly said a full sentence in the car and now she wore a stoic demeanor. No one was going to touch you and Wanda, even if the both of you could hold your own.

           “Do you think Sam and Steve are here already?” Wanda asked softly as you both trailed behind Okoye towards the commotion.

           You pursed your lips and glanced around at your surroundings, the walkway separated from the gardens by a thick and neatly trimmed bush that acted much like a hedge. The air was scented with the perfume from the exotic flowers and was thick with humidity, something that you had gotten used to in six weeks.

           “We’ll have to see. I don’t want to draw attention and use my powers,” You replied.

           Wanda nodded and you both settled into an uneasy silence, hoping you wouldn’t run into Tony or Natasha whilst inside.

           The banquet hall was massive and brimming with important people, T’Challa’s Dora Milaje lingering in the shadows as elegantly dressed women. You knew Okoye had her necklace designed to be a weapon as well as an object of beauty, the jewelry made of vibranium that was shaped into looking like teeth. The King of Wakanda knew the real power behind women and that made him just that much more appealing to you.

           Wanda kept close to you, her uneasiness roiling off her in waves and you reached back and grasped her hand. Her eyes flickered to yours and a relieved smile graced her deep red lips. You could see her relax and you both managed to wedge yourselves into a place where the crowd had thinned, giving you air to breathe.

           Okoye moved to talk with another Dora Milaje a good distance away so you scanned the hall for any signs of Steve or Sam. You hadn’t seen any of your ex-team members either, which was a relief. That’s when you caught a glimpse of movement in the crowd, you saw everyone stepping out of the way of T’Challa and he was heading straight for you and Wanda.

           “I see Steve. Sam is next to him,” Wanda told you.

           You immediately turned to see where she was referring to in the crowd and sure enough they were there. The two soldiers were dressed in nice black and white suits, conversing with each other and holding glasses of whiskey in their hands. They weren’t the ones to go for wine.

           T’Challa finally reached you and he was dressed in a black-on-black suit and tie, evidently matching you. He held a flute of golden champagne in his fingers and he quickly took a sip before setting it on table nearby.

           Wanda excused herself, “I’m going to talk to Steve and Sam.” She slipped through the crowd and left you alone with the King of Wakanda.

           “You look like a queen, Y/N.” T’Challa said, reaching out for you to gingerly take his hand. He bent slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, running the pad of his thumb over your fingers. You couldn’t help the blush that tinged your cheeks at his words before you tugged your hand out of his careful warm grasp.

           You tried your best to bow in the dress that hugged your form and T’Challa grasped your arms. He straightened you up, before he smiled down at you. You met his eyes and lowered your voice, “T’Challa I know how you wish for me to treat you as my equal, but we are in your own home and surrounded by people who see you as a King. I think it is proper of me to bow.”

           “Umhle, you are supposed to take the hand of Royalty and kiss it. Bowing has been outdated for decades,” He chuckled and you sighed.

           “You are the only Royalty I’ve met so I wouldn’t know that.”

           T’Challa dropped his hands from your arms and opened his mouth to say something when you were both interrupted. He turned to reveal a middle-aged man who seemed to really need to speak with T’Challa, so the King of Wakanda bid you a swift farewell, before he followed the man to a group of business partners.

           You maneuvered your way through the crowd to the bar, but was stopped by a warm hand encircling your wrist. You immediately prepped in defense and whirled to face who it was. It wasn’t anyone you recognized but he was handsome and wearing a bright smile on his features. He dropped your wrist and stepped back.

           “I apologize if I startled you, but I had to know your name.” He admitted.

           You were hesitant as you said, “Oh, well I’m Y/N…”

           “It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” The man flirted and you sensed something off about him. You didn’t know if you were being paranoid but this didn’t seem right to you. The man looked around and offered, “May we go somewhere more private?”

           You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Uh, I was actually going to talk to my friends.”

           He stepped forward and you shied away from him, trying not to bump into the table behind you. The man lifted a hand and gently rest it on your hip causing you to flinch away from his touch. He tried grabbing your waist again and his voice astoundingly stayed calm, “I’m sure they can wait, Y/N. There is a table over here that we can talk at.”

           You weren’t really looking to knock someone out at this party and his hands always managed to grip your hips, no matter how many times you batted him away. The man came ever closer and you tried to look behind him for any sign of Steve or Sam, hell even Okoye. You let out a soft whimper escape your lips when he backed you into the table and slid his hands up your sides.

           Then, a hand wrapped around his shoulder and wrenched him off you. You caught a breath of relief and an arm snaked around your waist smoothly, tugging you into the solid warmth of someone’s side.

           A familiar accented voice was sharp and stabbing at the man, “Do not lay a hand on my woman again or you won’t get off with just a warning.”

           The man’s demeanor changed and he sneered, “How do I know you aren’t just pretending?”

           You glanced up at T’Challa and he narrowed his eyes at the man before he looked down at you. You were surprised when he captured your lips in a kiss and when his grip on your waist pulled you slightly closer, you relaxed into his figure. His mouth was gentle and passionate against yours, easily topping every kiss you’ve had before this because of how much pent-up emotion passed between the both of you. You kissed T’Challa back with just as much soft ferocity, resting your hands on his solid chest as his lips slightly worked against your own. He tasted like expensive wine and sweet champagne; something you would’ve never known you craved. T’Challa reluctantly pulled away and looked back at the man who was gawking at the sight of the King of Wakanda kissing a woman he realized was an Avenger.

           You were slightly dizzy and a euphoric smile graced your lips as you regained your breath. T’Challa cleared his throat and said, “I believe that was the proof you needed. I don’t want to see you ever again in my home.” His chest slightly caved as he exhaled slowly.

           Two Dora Milaje suddenly stepped up to the man and roughly grasped his arms, speaking in a harsh African tongue you couldn’t pinpoint. They drug the man away and Okoye appeared out of the crowd, eyeing you and T’Challa with a look of worry.

           “Everything okay?” Okoye asked you.

           T’Challa dropped his hand from your waist and his voice dropped to a scary octave. He accused Okoye, “You were supposed to keep watch of Y/N and Miss Maximoff. She could’ve been in serious danger if it wasn’t for me finding her, Okoye.”

           Okoye bowed her head. “My apologies, Your Highness. It w—”

           You cut her off, “No, T’Challa, it was my fault.” You stepped in front of him and he gazed down at you with widened eyes. “She was doing her job, but I didn’t tell her where I was going.” You looked back at the Dora Milaje and she was gazing at you in surprise. You sighed, “I understand if I am a reliability so it is okay to force me out of Wakanda.”

           “Umhle, I am not letting you leave Wakanda.” T’Challa’s eyes flared with an intensity that burned into you. He glanced at Okoye and dismissed her, “You may go.”

           Okoye shot you a thankful look before she turned and vanished into the crowd, leaving you with a frustrated King. You turned back to him and met his gaze, seeing the intensity had dissipated to leave an emotion you couldn’t discern. He raised a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against your cheek, causing your heartrate to steadily increase. You felt the cool metal of his father’s ring against the heated skin and T’Challa let his hand fall back to his side.

           “My father told me that the woman I would marry would not hesitate to go against my choices and would see me not as Royalty, but as a man who was equal to her.” T’Challa spoke carefully, his gaze dropping from yours as he recalled the memories.

           You slightly furrowed your brow and searched his face for what he meant, before he grasped your right hand. He lifted it up and brushed his thumb over the vibranium ring he had given to you, it was beautiful black ring that had a silver-colored design that was shaped into a wide arrow that stretched the span of the ring.

           T’Challa said, “He also told me to give this ring to that woman.”

           Your breath hitched and your gaze locked with his, realizing what he had meant.

.   .   .

           “Well, well, well. Looks like you’ve got Cat Costume wrapped around your finger, Y/N.” Sam chuckled as you took a seat at the circular dining table beside him. He lifted his glass of whiskey to his mouth and knocked the rest of it back, setting it back onto the white tablecloth.

           You shot him a dark look and stated, “Well, I’ve been in a jungle for six weeks and the only people I’ve seen is T’Challa, Wanda, and the Dora Milaje.”

           Steve straightened up in his chair at the mention of the Royal guards and he slightly furrowed his brow. He asked, “What is the Dora Milaje?

           Wanda was sipping on a glass of white wine before she quickly replied, “They are the women in the corners of the room with no hair. They are specially trained as warrior wives-to-be, but T’Challa only views them as bodyguards. We even have a Dora Milaje looking over us at the villa.”

           Steve nodded his head as he took in the information. He turned his head to look at one of the dark-skinned women standing next to a tall white marble column, her eyes immediately locking onto the table you were seated at and Steve immediately looked away.

           Sam let out a low whistle. “Damn, T’Challa definitely knows how to choose his bodyguards.”

           “Don’t even think about it, Sam.” You rolled your eyes, “They would eat you alive.”

           Sam shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare at the Dora Milaje woman. He tilted his head at you, “Doesn’t hurt to let a man dream, Y/N. I mean you’re the one kissing the damn King of Wakanda.”

           “That damn King of Wakanda would gladly eat you alive as well,” T’Challa’s voice came from behind you and Sam jumped in his seat. You all turned to see the man approach with Okoye at his side, he sat down in the open chair next to you. Okoye gracefully lowering herself into the remaining seat.

           Steve leaned forward onto his elbows and nodded at T’Challa. “Your Highness.”

           “Captain Rogers.” T’Challa greeted back.

           Steve looked around at the full table and said, “Now that we’re all here, I’d like to tell you about the HYDRA information we recovered.” He exchanged a look with Sam before the other soldier leaned forward.

           Sam said, “We’re going to have to pull Bucky out of cryostasis.”

           “Why?” Wanda asked.

           “Because he’s the only one who knows how to kill an active Winter Soldier.”

Read Before The Winter [Part 2]

Tagging: @writingbarnes, @pleasecallmecaptain, @currentlyavengerstrash, @positixe, @ltsaradharkness, @ek823, @bookchic20, @marvelfanuniverse, @queenieofasgard, @abbie-madeley, @sammskellington, @justareader, @kryloxen, @capsicle-fondues, and @infinitybarnes.

anonymous asked:

Could I request s/o having to comfort Eren and Armin after they had a nightmare ?

Sure! Here you go, anon~! I took some liberty and made this a reincarnation AU  that nobody asked for. I’d also like to say that typically we only do ONE character for a scenario, but since you didn’t specifically ask for a scenario (and I totally chose to write them just because I wanted to, lol) I am writing for both. Hope you enjoy!


It started with sweat–tons of it, dripping in thick beads down Armin’s head. It was followed by tossing and turning and then the quietest of whines. The shuffling against worn sheets and the misery that plagued each small groan was enough to snap your eyes open, enough to cause you to sit up and reach out into the darkness until you felt the familiar skin beneath your calloused fingers.

“Armin?” you whispered, but the only reply you received was another fearful groan. You shook his shoulder, trying a bit louder this time. “Armin.”

“Ah!” He shot straight up, and even in the thick black that surrounded you you could see the flash of his blonde hair. If you couldn’t see his chest heaving you could certainly hear that it was, each breath escaping his parted lips in a faster and faster pace until you were sure he was going to pass out. You heard his fingertips grip into the blankets and you instinctively pulled him toward you, not surprised when his head connected with your collarbone and his body slouched against yours.

His shoulders began to shake and you wrapped your arms around him, lifting a hand occasionally to run fingers through his hair. “Shh, it’s okay, Armin. It was just–”

“Another nightmare,” he finished for you in a whisper, his voice full of tremors as he shook against you. “Just…just another nightmare.”

“And it’s not real,” you attempted to comfort him, pressing your lips against his temple. “It’s not real.”

Armin paused for a moment, and you stilled the movement of your hands. Slowly but surely he lifted himself from you, eyes finding yours with only the reflection of the moonlight through the window to guide you to them.

“But that’s just it,” he began, his voice unusually calm but filled with unmistakable dread and fear. “It was real. I watched my friends die–I died–and it was…it was all real.”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was talking about. “Armin, I’m not sure I understand.”

It wouldn’t be until late–early, maybe–in the morning until you’d be able to sleep, too consumed with Armin’s memories and terrifying tales of a past life. And when he’d finally feel like he’d gotten enough off his chest, when he would finally be able to shut his eyes…

…yours would be wide open, mind plagued with the horrifying images of the life Armin shared with you.


It was happening again.

You felt your heart fall into your stomach as you watched him toss and turn beside you, his eyes squeezed and his teeth grit so hard you wondered if he might just break his jaw. His fingers wound around the sheets beneath him, a grip so vice tight that you were sure the sheets would be the next thing to go, too. He was breathing heavily but there were no noises escaping his chapped lips this time, not until–

And then Eren was screaming a name–your name–and sitting up so quickly that the vicious motion almost threw you right from the bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Eren whispered, reaching out into the darkness to wrap his large hand around your lithe wrist. He tugged you back toward him in what you assumed was an effort to help steady you on the bed, but instead of stopping in your previously sat position, you kept going until you were crashing against Eren’s sturdy chest.

You could hear his rapid heart beat, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks as Eren’s bare chest lay splayed beneath you. Your hands slowly slid up his arms, finding purchase on his biceps as he clung to you tightly. 

“You…you died,” came his terrified voice, shaky and unsure and unmistakably broken. His shoulders shook just a bit as he sucked in a deep breath. “You died and I wasn’t there to say goodbye.”

“Eren,” you breathed, pushing yourself away to find his teal eyes. You cupped his cheeks in your hands and felt your heart sink at the yet-to-shed tears teetering on the edge of his eyelids. “We’ve talked about this before. I don’t resent you. I didn’t then, and I still don’t now.”

“But how?” he asked, lifting his own hands to rest upon yours, as if attempting to ground himself to you even further. “How can you not resent me for not being there during your last breath? During all that pain you were suffering through–”

“Stop.” You weren’t usually so demanding, but Eren had to understand–needed to understand just how much you didn’t blame him. “You didn’t know how sick I was. I kept it from you so you could focus; so you wouldn’t have to worry. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

Eren closed his eyes and you watched one tear slide down the hill of his rounded cheek. You pressed your forehead against his, smiling softly. 

“I love you, Eren,” you murmured, stroking his cheeks with your fingers. “I loved you then and I love you now, that’s never going to change. The only difference is this time I don’t plan on leaving you.”

Eren sucked in another breath at your intimate words, and then his arms were winding around you as he pulled you down onto the bed. He adjusted your position so your back was against his chest, his arms wrapped around you so his hands rested on your stomach. He pressed his face into your neck, inhaling your calming scent as he desperately tried to search for sleep again.

“I love you, too. So much.”

I’m In: Part 3

Requested by: Anonymous
(Here is the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky (subtle)
Word Count: 1.7K
Warnings: Mild depression, Reader is bisexual, angst, fluff

A/N: The final part!! I hope I did okay!

Feedback is always appreciated.

Part 1, Part 2

The days following your transformation into an Inhuman were rough, to say the least. You were having a bad few days, or week. You felt different, and it was playing heavily on your mind. Your new friends kept trying to convince you to leave your room and have meals with the team, but you were constantly tired, a plaguing symptom of your depression. You usually handled your depression fairly well, having been dealing with it for years you understood what was best for you. It didn’t help that every time one of the Avengers entered your room they felt your despair as well. You still couldn’t control your powers well, you didn’t understand how they worked completely, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from projecting your emotions on others when you were in a heightened state of emotion yourself.

“Hey,” Bucky coos as he slowly opens your door, his shoulders dropping when he saw you laying in bed staring at the ceiling, “How you feeling?”

“Buck,” you force yourself to sit up as the super soldier wanders over to your bed and sits on the end, “I don’t want to affect you, you don’t have to come check on me… I just need a few days… a few more days, to try and control this,”

“Y/N,” Buck gives you a small smile, “I feel fine,”

Keep reading

[ restless ]

genre: fluffy and a lil bit of smut?

words: 3k

plot: when two party obsessed boys move into a usually quiet neighborhood, trouble is bound to happen

It was suppose to be quiet where you lived, the only noises being birds chirping from the tree branches and the wind slapping unlocked gates back and forth.

It use to be easy to fall asleep.

All it took was the simple switch of a light, your body covered by a thick puffy blanket while watery moonlight spun through the window. Often times you would plug in your music and let the swift beat of whatever song was playing lull you to sleep, your eyelids growing heavier with each verse.

It was the beginning of summer when you noticed the signature moving van pull up to the curb of the house beside yours. You were sitting on the top step of your porch, curious eyes peaking over the faded white paint. Nobody had moved into the pretty light blue house after the previous owners left, they were quiet, just like the rest of the neighbourhood.

It only took a few seconds after the arrival of the van for a dark blue pick-up truck to speed around the corner, music blaring and engine spitting a horrid gurgling noise. The owner of the truck pulled up a little way down from the van, the vehicle almost crossing over your curb.

Your grape soda almost got snagged in your throat when the machine ceased and two eye candies stepped out. They had the typical bad boy look, dark jeans with rips over the thighs, loose black t-shirts hanging from their broad shoulders. The duo screamed trouble though you kept clinging to the thought they would be mellow, quiet neighbours like everyone else.

Your eyes didn’t know who to focus on as they chuckled between themselves and you were sure it wasn’t just the summer heat that was making your body feel as though it were on fire.

The amount of time that had passed wasn’t in your brain anymore as you watched the pair from inside, chin resting on the palm of your hand. You followed their continuous movements from the van to the house, back and forth, over and over. This would have to be the time your parents decided to start vacationing. What if they came over and introduced themselves, they were the ones to handle the responsibility of opening the door.

Eventually the moving van pulled away and the sun started to set, a warm peachy glow casting over every house.

Days ticked by and the two boys remained quiet, they even fixed the awful gurgling noise to their pick-up. You were relived at best. It was the evening you watched the boy with coffee brown hair set his garbage can in place for the next day that you realized, you can’t judge a book by its cover.

It was 7am when you heard a solid knock on your door. Your eyes were boring straight into the clock set up on the dresser as a sinking feeling pooled into your stomach, what could anyone possibly want this early? After tearing yourself away from the heavenly warmth of your bed, you stumbled into the washroom to quickly splash some fresh water on your face.

On your way to the door you continued to pat the towel against your neck and cheeks, expecting it to be the elderly lady from down the street who wouldn’t stop delivering you her strawberries. As you opened the door and felt the first few rays of warmth spread over your face, you came eye to eye with one of the boys from the blue house, his beauty right up close for you to see.

You forced back the choke rising in your throat as the boy held out a single empty measuring cup, a tiny grin on his plush looking lips.

“I’m sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but do you happen to have a cup of sugar? I need it for the brownies I’m making.” His voice was incredibly smooth and soothing, like a drizzle of honey down a sore throat.

“B-brownies?” You stuttered, realizing you were in the presence of someone who looked like a prince while you took on the appearance of a beggar. His hand lifted up to press back his slick yet soft blonde hair, the dark colours he was wearing a nice contrast against his creamy skin.

“Yes, brownies. Do you have no sugar?”

“No, I do,” you suddenly jumbled out, eyes glued to the floor, “I’ll be a second.”

After taking his empty measuring cup you tried to keep a normal pace down the hall that led to the kitchen. The minute you were out of sight, a large breath was escaping your chest and you used the fluffy towel in your hand to wipe away the invisible sweat on your forehead.

You tossed the towel onto the kitchen table and took a scoop of sugar from one of your cupboards, a steady breath traveling into your lungs before you returned to your neighbour. His hands were placed behind his back while he stared rather innocently at the houses that dotted behind him.

“Here’s your sugar.” You smiled, skin tingling when his fingers brushed with yours as he took back the scoop.

“Sorry if I woke you up, by the way my name is Jun and if you saw another gawky tall looking dude, that’s my friend Mingyu.”

“Ah,” you replied while bobbing your head, “I noticed you two moving in a few days ago. Oh yeah and my name is, Y/N. You didn’t wake me up either, I couldn’t sleep.”

Jun chuckled lightly, his dark glossy eyes almost shimmering like fairy dust. As he began taking a few steps down your porch, he turned back to wave goodbye, flashing his pearly rows of teeth.

“Thanks again, Y/N. It was nice to finally meet you.”

You ushered a final, you too, as Jun padded away, heart in your chest still beating recklessly. At the start they seemed like the complete opposite of what you were expecting, just another pair of quiet cliche neighbours who asked for cups of sugar and woke up early to go buy bagels at the cafe.

But all good things must come to an end.

A frustrated cry was muffled by a pillow being slapped over your face, eyes scrunched shut and teeth gnawing into your lower lip. It was too late for you to have to deal with these two, again. Music was flowing like wildfire from the house beside yours, bass making the curtains jitter and the tiny antiques in your dresser rattle slightly.

Are you serious? You screamed inside your head as a piercing shout was heard from outside your window. Never being this irritated before, you scrambled out of bed and shoved open the glass, your eyes catching sight of an intoxicated group of strangers squirting each other with water guns.

It was the second party this week that had kept you up, not counting the ones that had taken place before it. You supposed lecturing a hung over Mingyu the next morning wasn’t a great way to get the idea of possibly not having one at all through his thick skull.

Also something else that really ticked you off, Jun borrowing sugar to not make just an ordinary batch of brownies but goddamn weed brownies. What a guy.

How could these two trouble makers move to a usually quiet, peaceful place and turn it into a hotspot for parties that had strings of toilet paper and random couch cushions everywhere. You had never bothered stopping them in the middle of the party but tonight, that thought was awfully tempting.

After tugging on a jacket and a pair of worn out sneakers, you stomped outside with steam practically shooting out your ears. People were yelling at you the minute you stepped onto Jun and Mingyu’s rather unkept lawn, their water guns at point as they slurred their words together.

You prayed everyone here had a designated driver or were staying if they were too drunk to drive. Someone had already passed out on the bench next to the house entrance, at least three beer cans crushed at their feet. The music was forcing your senses completely awake, the awful bass shaking your core as you whipped the door open.

The immediate stench of marijuana wafted up your nose and stung your throat, a cough already rattling your chest as you tried your best to spot one of the two idiots through the clumps of people. Like any other party that kept the whole neighbourhood awake, people were locked together in every corner, red solo cups strewn all over the floor while strobe lights cast rainbows of colour over every surface.

It didn’t take you long to find Mingyu on the sofa, a girl grinding heavily into his lap while his lips remained attached to her neck. By the other purple marks dotting her skin, it looked like it had been going on for awhile and had no means of stopping.

Suddenly fingers were curling around your shoulder and as you flung around out of surprise, you came face to face with Jun, a smug look painted on his sharp features.

“Y/N,” Jun pouted, “you decided to show up.” His fingers fell from your shoulder as he smirked, a red cup against his lips as he took a sip of whatever was left inside.

Though he was quite close to you, it was difficult to hear his delicate voice over the continuous melody shaking the house. He wouldn’t tear his eyes away from you, your skin flushing hot in the centre of chaos. Tucking some hair away from your face, you spoke rather loudly back to him, your sizzling anger unforgotten.

“I only showed up to tell you to shut up!” You tried to out speak the music, Jun watching in amusement as he took another sip of his drink. “For the love of God, please shut this party down or at least make everything much quieter! I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep in what feels like forever because of you two!”

Jun’s head titled back as he chugged the rest of his drink, adams apple bobbing up and down until it seemed like he swallowed every last drop. Then he tossed the red solo cup into a trash bin in the corner, his eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s summer, Y/N! It’s the time to throw parties and I’m sorry but you’re going to have to deal with it.” His devilish little grin that followed had your hairs standing on end. Prince Jun might not need any sleep but you certainly did.

“Listen here you little-,”

A pair of girls stumbling around in oversized heels clipped into you, your body suddenly colliding with Jun’s, his back shoved to the wall while you felt yourself grimace. Before you could turn to give them a piece of your mind, you realized your hands were splayed over Jun’s chest, your fingertips brushing against the muscle underneath.

“Why so eager, baby?” Jun teased, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Though he had been surrounded by nothing but alcohol and marijuana, he managed to smell like fresh mint, your mouth almost watering.

Before you could be tricked into anything, you remembered why you came over in the first place.

“Listen Jun,” you began while stepping away from him, trying to deny how satisfying it felt to have his muscles under your fingertips, “please just-,”

“Hey, Jun!”

You were yet again cut off, but this time by Mingyu. The same girl that was fixed on his lap was leaning into his side, arms caged around him while her eyes slipped between you and Jun. Mingyu punched his friends arm, a sneaky smile tugging on his lips.

“Guess I’m not the only one getting some action tonight.” He teased though neither you or Jun looked impressed.

“Fucking forget it.” You cursed while weaselling away from the trio. The only thing on your mind was to get out of that chaotic house. You trudged off the front porch, not caring that some intoxicated girl just sprayed you with her water gun.

After slamming the door shut, you angrily kicked off your shoes and tore off your jacket. You rushed back to your room and flopped on the bed, eyes sealed shut and earphones plugged in until your will to sleep took over and you felt the bass from next door fade away.

It was 12:02pm when you groggily awoke the next morning, your past bitterness from the night still lingering. You glanced out the window to surprisingly see the light blue house restored to its proper condition.

No steamers of toilet paper strewn across the grass or over the porch, no couch cushions or plastic cups left anywhere. It was more clean than usual and that had your radar beginning to spike.

You made yourself a cup of coffee and walked onto the porch, a breeze stifling through the air that carried the smell of sweet grass and tree bark. The neighbourhood was back to its usual state, the party next door seeming like it never happened.

You continued with your normal routine that carried on throughout the day, enjoying the chirping of the birds that perched outside your windows and the breeze that rippled through the house.

The best part, Jun and Mingyu’s house was as quiet as the never ending void of space, you would never know they were there.

In fact it was almost unsettling. At least 3 days had passed and no party, no cars parked up and down the street, no loud bass thumping from every corner, no cups or toilet paper in heaps across the lawn. You were almost worried something terrible had happened, they were never this quiet.

But that night, at around 11pm your worst nightmare ensued. After stepping out of the shower and dressing into your pyjamas, you were ready to get a glass of water and go to sleep. That is until music started to blare, shouts started to echo and in about 15 minutes the street was crammed with cars.

You ran to the window and peered outside, Jun and Mingyu’s house like a beacon in the middle of a starless sky. It was too good to be true, your bad boy neighbours couldn’t stay quiet forever.

Why had no one else complained, why had no one else done anything?

Simply because no one was use to dealing with things like this, and while you could have called the cops and spoiled everything, the two would still find a loop hole. People like them always did.

As you prepared to collapse on your bed and stare at the ceiling with your earbuds in until the noise went away, a loud knock was sounding at the door. You questioned leaving whoever it was to knock away, but instead you found yourself undoing the lock and swinging the door open, eyes hollow and shoulders slouching.


You didn’t bother finishing your greeting when you were faced with Jun, a gummy smile on his lips while he stood outside your door. He was dressed in a hoodie and sweats, his silky blonde hair that was always slickly styled now covering his forehead.

“Just a quick notice,” he commenced, his hands clapping together, “Mingyu and I are throwing another party in about an hour or so, don’t be surprised if it starts getting loud and shit. Also do you have any sugar?”

You stood still and glared at him, his little smile still painting his lips. With a voice as dull as cement, you scorched daggers into his skin while muttering,

“The party already started asshole.”

Jun ran his fingers across his fluffy fringe, clearly oblivious to your, I’m about to shut the door in your face, attitude. As much as you wanted to do that right now, you were selfish and couldn’t deny the fact he was just as alluring as he was obnoxious.

“I’m just joking, Y/N, relax.” Then he was reaching to the banister of the porch, pulling out a measuring cup full of sugar that you hadn’t seen before. The blaring music and shouts only intensified from next door as Jun put his hand out, the sugar right in front of you.

“You were so nice lending some to me when I first came here, I’m repaying you.” Hesitantly, you took the cup of sugar and placed it on the table next to you, your eyes never leaving the tall and cocky boy on your porch.

“Aren’t you such a prince,” you mocked, “you’d be even more of one if you could get that mess next door to quiet down.”

Jun chuckled softly, the sound striking you right where it shouldn’t. You wanted to slam the door shut, you wanted to scream at him until he was forced to quiet down the party but you couldn’t.

You couldn’t because getting to stare at his blissfully handsome face and listen to his honey smooth voice try to crack jokes was distracting you from the noise, he was making you feel not so lonely in a neighbourhood where everyone kept to themselves, the only interactions being out of pity and shame.

You didn’t realize how empty your face must have turned, you were practically thinking your deepest thoughts right in front of someone who couldn’t keep any of this thoughts to himself.

“Earth to Y/N, you look kinda spaced out.”

Then you felt a sudden jolt in your bones, a deep fire ignited that had you cupping your hand around the back of Jun’s neck, fingers brushing against the soft strands of platinum as you connected your lips with his.

He was only shocked for a second, his hands immediately gripping your hips like steel while you desperately craved more of his plush lips, nipping and sucking until Jun shoved you inside, foot kicking the door shut so he could swiftly slam you against it.

“You aren’t going back to your precious party?” You sneered as Jun’s fingertips lightly brushed against the smooth skin under your shirt, lust pooling in his eyes.

“Not unless you want me to.” He cooed sweetly into your ear. Though you knew he was acting soft as a joke, your body still flared when he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his fingers gliding over the hem of your shorts.

“Fuck no.” You whined in response, the last thing you wanted was for him to leave.

You felt him smirk against your lips as a gasp forced its way past your throat, his hands wandering down to squeeze the flesh of your bottom while you instinctively jumped upwards, legs latching around his waist so he could attack your neck with wet kisses.

“Jun, please.” You breathed when he sucked at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, tingles shooting through you like electricity. He pushed his hips against you rather aggressively, a low growl rising from his throat.

“What made you suddenly want me, huh?” His hot breath fanned against your skin while he continued to slowly grind his hips against yours, fingers tapping along the heated flesh of your thighs.

“Please, fuck, I don’t know. Just do what you want with me.” You gasped as he delivered a particularly hard thrust against your core, tears almost pricking your eyes with how much you wanted him. Jun suddenly stopped, a whine cracking from your chest as he dropped you back on your feet.

Bringing a hand up to cup the side of your cheek, he looked directly into your eyes, lust brewing like a potion in their depths.

“Y\N, are you sure you want this?” Jun asked softly, his thumb stroking your cheek for a moment while you gnawed on your lower lip. Secretly you screamed at his affectionate side, but you couldn’t stand not having him against you.

You couldn’t stand the wait, your fingers threading through his silky hair while your lips pressed to his ear, “Yes I’m sure, I don’t want to wait anymore though.”

Jun smiled, his voice thick with lust as he ran his hand down your stomach,

“I’ll do you real good, baby. Don’t you worry.”

Where are you?

Anon:  Can you do a Jack G imagine where me and him are best friends Madison talks him out of going to my cheer competition and then we fight and he confesses that he likes me? Thanks


You knock on the door and then sip your coffee. You have always been a morning person for some reason. You hear shuffling and catch your breath.

“Hey”. He says, voice groggy, hair a little messy.

God, he is adorable. ‘No, (Y/N), focus. He’s your friend. That’s it.’ You think to yourself. “Hey!” you bounce into the apartment.

“Ew, you’ve probably been up for like two hours” he yawns, pulling on the bottom of his sweatshirt.

“True,” You smirk. “I brought you a good luck present before your meeting today.” You wave a bag of fresh, warm, cream cheese covered bagels underneath his nose.

“Maybe having you up early isn’t a bad thing,” He says, snatching the greasy bag from your hand.

“Babe? What time is it? Come back to bed, it’s cold now.” You hear her tiny footsteps padding down the hall.

“I didn’t know Madison was here,” You say quietly. “I’ll let you guys have the morning. I’m sorry.” you stand up and adjust your shirt a little.

She comes around the corner wearing Jack’s sweatshirt and you feel your heart give out a little as her hands slide around his waist. “Don’t be sorry. You’re my best friend, you’re allowed here whenever you want, especially if you bring food. Thanks so much for these” he smiles, meeting your eyes.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you tonight right? My parents are excited to see you. It’s been a while”

He nods again. “I love Steven and Kathleen!”  You wave as you head for the door.


You look in the mirror and breath in and out slowly. You’ve got this. You guys know this routine. You adjust your ponytail and nod at yourself in the mirror then check your watch. ‘That’s odd,’ you think to yourself. Jack always comes and drops off a good luck daisy when he is at your events. He did it back in Omaha too. You shake it off. It’s competition time. No distractions.

It was when you finished the pop-up tuck and the crowd was cheering that you first looked around. There was your family, sitting front, and center, beaming. You smiled. You scanned the rows for that smile and those dark eyebrows, maybe a baseball cap. He’s had to keep a low profile since Jack and Jack became so popular. You sigh. He didn’t come. He promised he would, he was around so rarely now because of touring. You shake it off again as your troop cheers and heads backstage to put warm-ups on.

You guys take first and your Mom is so proud. You are going to the championships at Disneyland in April! They decide to take you out to dinner to celebrate, but all you can think about is stupid Jack. You text him  when you get to the restaurant, Where were you? We won :D. Out to dinner with my S&K. They’re asking about you.” After that, you put your phone away and enjoy your family. They head back to the suburbs and drop you off at your apartment. You hug them goodbye and then storm upstairs, blowing past your roommate.

“Woah (Y/N)! What happened?” She sits up.

“We won, but Jack promised he was going to be there. He wasn’t. He hasn’t even texted me”

“That sucks” She calls as you change out of your uniform and into Adidas pants and a white crop top.

“Yep!” You fly back towards the door. “I’m going to go yell at him”

“Really?” She smirks “You go, girl!”


“JACK FINNEGAN GILINSKY” you bang on his door. “I saw your Jeep outside. I know you’re in there”

Madison comes to the door. “What do you want Y/N? Jack had a meeting today he’s very tired”

“Did he break both of his thumbs?” You come into the apartment as Jack is rounding the corner.

“You’re mad,” he says sheepishly, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah!” you say walking closer to him. “You couldn’t text and explain yourself or call my parents and tell them why? And you are here with barely any clothes on, it looks like you ate dinner here. Were you even busy?” you meet his eyes at the end of your rant and can feel Madison glaring at you.

“You should go,” He says quietly nodding at the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Madison laughs. “You should go. Bye!”

“I meant you Madi,” Jack says rubbing the side of his face. “I need to talk to Y/N”

She sighs and puts her sweater on then leaves.

“Sit,” He says pointing over at the couch and sighs. You sit down and look at him confused.

“What’s up, G?” you run your hand over the blanket draped over the couch, thinking of all the times you’ve slept right here after a basketball game or movie night with the boys.

“Madison told me I shouldn’t go tonight”

“WHAT?” You get pissed all over again and start to stand up. Jack puts his hand out to your chest.

“Don’t freak out.” He says as you sit back down. “She knows the truth. I had a feeling she figured it out a while ago, back when you came for part of the tour”

“What are you talking about?” You run a hand over your ponytail.

“Ever since you and Swazz broke up. I just started thinking about us differently and then that one night when we were on Catalina where we stayed up talking and you fell asleep on my chest. But, we’re like ships in the night. I was already dating Madi and you had just broken up with one of my friends, I didn’t want to push things” He sighs, sitting on a chair at the kitchen counter.

Your eyes meet his, “Even when I was dating him, there were moments when things only felt right with you and I didn’t know what to do about it. I was only sure when things started to pick up with you and Madison and every time I saw her I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. That’s part of the reason John and I broke up…” You trail off.

His eyebrows raise. “Really? So you like like me?” You nod and he comes closer to you. He leans down and is about to bring your lips together for the first time since spin the bottle at Sammy’s 14th birthday.

“What about your girlfriend. She could be cold to me at times, but we should respect her.” you say in a whisper. When he pulls away, you wish the words hadn’t escaped your lips at all.

“I’ll take care of it tonight,” He says, rubbing his thumb on the inside of your wrist. “But you are all mine for breakfast tomorrow” He leans down and kisses your forehead.

“See you then, G,” You say, heading for the door as if floating. The butterflies in your stomach carry you.

“Damn I wish I didn’t respect Madison enough” You hear him say as he watches you walk away.

“You waited years, you can wait 10 hours big boy” You smirk, secretly wishing you could be in there right now too.


This was a request for a particular situation. I do not personally hate Madison or think that she and Jack should break up

Best Friends ch 2: Dare

Summary : Love is great, love is amazing. But there is something really special about your friends. They have your back no matter what, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. Because they already know how to grab it and keep it. 

Sorry It’s been so long since I’ve posted anything! Hope this fluffiness makes up for it and the fact that our hearts are breaking for the manga :)

“Would you turn that shit off!” Natsu pounded on his elder brother’s bedroom door.

The screamo music that Zeref labeled as “art” only screamed louder.

“Some Babysitter,” Gray muttered from his spot on the Dragneel’s cushy couch.

“Babysitter my ass,” Natsu threw himself onto the matching loveseat, “why do I even need a babysitter? I’m 17!”

Natsu and Zeref’s adoptive father had gone to work early this rainy Saturday morning, leaving Zeref in charge of his little brother and little brothers friend.

All he had done was tell them not to destroy the house and locked himself in his room.

Gray shrugged. He twisted open his gum wrapper. He hazily read the saying on the paper. It was a dare. And what a perfect dare it was.

“Hey Natsu, truth or dare.”

“What?” Natsu didn’t stop flipping through the channels, desperate to cure the boredom.

Gray sat up, he actually found something entertaining for them to do rather than watch TV, “Truth or dare.”

“Dare, duh,” Natsu spun around to face his best friend, not that they would ever admit to that.

Gray smirked and held the gum wrapper up for the pink haired boy to see, “Eat ice cream covered in hot sauce.”

Natsu stared blankly at it for a moment. Then his grin grew quite evilly.


Keep reading

Your Innocence is Mine

Chapter One

(A Calum Hood series.)

It seemed that these days the only thing that you were good at, was drinking alone until the early morning when you greeted the sun with smudged makeup and a glass of whatever liquor you had picked up that evening.

An innocent young thing they used to call you. Quiet and beautiful, a pleasure to look at and a dream to get to know. You were nice, perhaps too nice. Even strangers called you an angel.

But inside you were dying. Struggling to find meaning in life, falling silently into the darkness, desperate to latch onto something that would give this life importance. Sinking deeper and deeper and deeper until finally, you lost yourself, and all that was left was this.

It was a Sunday morning when you woke up to a knock on the door. Lying on the couch with your clothes and shoes still on you waited for the visitor to give up, but the gentle knocking seemed to never stop. So you tried to get up, your head pounding out the same rhythm you have felt the past few weeks. And with just one ungraceful fall you reached the door.

‘Okay, okay I’m coming.’ You groaned out.

And before you had the chance to open the door you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror, the reflection made you laugh.

‘Fuck me, I look like shit.’

You couldn’t remember the last time you brushed your hair.

When you finally opened the door you were greeted with a big smile and twinkling, blue eyes.

‘Sam?’ You managed to croak out in surprise.

‘The one and only, baby doll!’ He greeted you with his usual cheeriness that by now you had grown so distant from. You grew self-conscious when he enveloped you in a tight hug, you were sure you had spilled wine on yourself at some point last night.

‘I hope you don’t mind me coming over unannounced. I’ve been texting and calling for day and you never reply, I thought that maybe you were dead.’ He laughed. ‘Wild night out?’ He asked as he looked you up and down.

‘Yeah.’ You answered quietly.

You were shocked to see him, the last time you heard from him was over a month ago when his girlfriend and he went away to Europe for a vacation. At some point, someone said they had gotten engaged but you couldn’t be sure if that was true.

‘Well shit, I didn’t expect you to be like this. How about I go and pick us up some coffee and breakfast while you get ready?’

‘Yeah… that sounds good.’ You tried to laugh, but you only heard some strangers voice in the distance. Was that me?

‘Perfect! Be back in thirty.’ He saluted and jogged down the corridor of your complex.

You shut the door. You wanted to throw up, sweat running down your neck, little pieces of hair sticking to your forehead. Your stomach felt sick, the pounding in your head got louder. You wanted to scream.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Time had slowed down. Real life came crashing through the wall you had built. You fell to your knees.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

It felt like forever had passed when you finally calmed down. Slowly you got up and looked into the mirror once more.


You had to get yourself together. So you got undressed and threw everything in the washing machine. In the shower you spent the first five minutes scrubbing your body and hair in the hottest water you could stand, and then five more simply standing in the cold.

You picked out a simple pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Brushed out the knots in your hair and brushed your teeth.

And as you were making your way to the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made Sam returned, with the same gentle knocking.

‘Hello.’ You smiled.

‘That’s my girl!’ He laughed and you welcomed him into your house… into your life, just like you knew you would all that time ago when he said his goodbyes.

You rushed into the kitchen after him, opening every curtain and window. The sun filling the space finally.

‘I got us Millie’s. I know how much you like their waffles.’ He said, glowing in the bright sunlight.

You helped him set up the table with plates and glasses, and while he answered a phone call you dished out the food.

Over breakfast you talked about what you had both been up to, you apologized for not answering his calls and texts and he laughed it off just like you knew he would. But you both stayed away from mentioning his girlfriend Laura.

‘So listen,’ he said as you were clearing off the plates. ‘how about you come out tonight? I haven’t seen you in so long and there are so many things I still want to talk to you about. Some of my friends are throwing a party tonight, I think you should come.’

‘Oh well… I don’t know, I have so many things to do that I think maybe-‘

‘Y/N I think it would be good for you.’ Sam said softly.

‘What do you mean?’ I frowned at him.

‘You know what I mean.’ He answered after a moment of silence.

‘We both know that what happened wasn’t what-‘

‘No!’ I cut him off. ‘We won’t talk about that.’

I turned around and threw the dishes into the sink, while Sam stayed quiet behind me.

‘Okay.’ I answered. ‘I’ll come.’

But his silence didn’t cease behind me.

‘Just text me the address and I promise I will come.’ I turned around and faced him.

His face looked worried and ashamed. I felt myself get hot.

‘What happened then… I got over that.’ I choked out. ‘I am fine.’


‘I am fine!’

‘Okay.’ He got up slowly and started walking towards me.

‘I need to go do some things, you should go. I’ll see you tonight.’ I forced myself to look him the eyes as I willed him to go.

He left without saying nothing more but a goodbye. Moments later I got the text with the address he promised and a time. The party was in seven hours. Seven hours, all the time that I had to get myself back.

The charming girl with the pretty smile. Please come back.


Red lipstick, perfume, and a white dress I arrived at the door as a stranger to leave as the illusionary angel they liked to think that I was.

Black hair, tattoos, and brown eyes he opened the door with a wicked smile. The devil, the savior, the only one greeted me once to never let me go.

kunoichi-ume  asked:

29 and Sakumo x Tsunade

Thank you for all the lovely asks that are filling out my armada. I didn’t mean to ship them, but now I do.

Prompt: So, you’re the one who saved my life.

Shadows clung to the ceiling, briefly chased away by the occasional lightning glowing through the window. Sakumo listened to the steady cadence of the rain for several heartbeats-heartbeats that shouldn’t exist any longer-before opening charcoal eyes to scan the room. A familiar form huddled in the corner, holding a bloody tanto, his tanto. Another crack of light split the night, emphasizing the crimson on the woman’s clothing.

Sticky liquid coated Sakumo’s stomach, drenching the hands he used to push himself into a sitting position. “So, you’re the one who saved my life?” He asked the question without a hint of malice or joy in his voice. “I should have known.”

“How could you?” The disbelief and hurt in Tsunade’s words twisted through Sakumo’s gut the same way the blade had. “Haven’t we lost enough already?”

Sakumo sighed and ran his hands over his stomach. Despite the smooth slit in his clothing, the skin beneath had fitted back together perfectly. Not even a scar remained, only the dampness of his blood. That particular smell hung heavy in the air, and he saw the wildness in Tsunade’s eyes. He owed her an answer, but the words wouldn’t come. How could he tell her that he’d failed his village, the one thing he still had going for him? How could he explain the fall from hero to outcast in a single mission?

“What about Kakashi?” The name of Sakumo’s son hurt more than Tsunade’s words or the knife. He thought of the boy, the brilliant, difficult genius that he was. Kakashi deserved better than having a failure overshadow his whole life. Sakumo had seen the way Kakashi’s grey eyes hardened when someone muttered his father’s name as a curse. It bothered Kakashi far more than Sakumo. Tsunade’s whip-like voice pulled the jonin from his thoughts. “Did you even think about him?”

“Of course I did,” Sakumo snapped, losing control of his patience. Everything he’d done had been for Kakashi. Exhaling to pull himself back under control, he pushed off the tatami mats to approach Tsunade. “I’m sorry.”

Tsunade recoiled when Sakumo reached for her. Ignoring the movement, he caught her hand and pulled Tsunade to her feet. For half a moment, Sakumo worried that she’d hit him, but the woman leaned close with a soft sob. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, knowing the too weak sentiment could never be enough.

“I can’t lose you too,” Tsunade mumbled in a small a voice.

Shushing her, Sakumo led Tsunade through the house toward the bathroom. Once inside, he turned on the shower, mindful to wash the blood from his hands. Stepping back, Sakumo pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the sink, incinerating it with a fire jutsu.

Crimson liquid covered the green hadori that Tsunade wore. Easing closer, Sakumo rested his hands on her shoulders. Though she shuddered, the woman didn’t shrug from beneath his touch. Far more tenderly than he felt, Sakumo ran the tips of his fingers down the sides of Tsunade’s neck, hooking them beneath the edge of her shirt. Sliding it from each shoulder, Sakumo laid the garment aside. Still half trembling, Tsunade pressed back. Sakumo brushed golden strands of hair away from her neck, fighting the urge to kiss the porcelain skin.

Sakumo hadn’t seen Tsunade in month, nor had he felt the confusing swirl of emotion that she elicited. The medic had been the one to bring Kakashi into the world, secreted away in a cave near the border of Iwa. War had forged bonds of friendship between Sakumo and Tsunade, along with the rest of her team. She’d kept his secret, understanding the conflict in Sakumo’s eyes when he begged for her help. The memory of blood and loss ripped through his heart again. He would never forget the solemn shake of the woman’s head as she placed the baby in his arms.

Tsunade had been the one to help him construct the rumors about Kakashi’s mother. So many shinobi had been lost or were late in returning from the war that it was easy to say she’d been a Konoha shinobi. Tsunade never brought up the woman that Sakumo had fallen in love with, then lost. In fact, they didn’t talk about those days at all. She’d taken pity on him during the early months, helping him adjust to the stress of caring for a newborn.

Days had turned into weeks, then months before either realized. One day, completely exhausted after putting up with a grumpy, teething Kakashi, Tsunade and Sakumo had fallen into bed together. He’d woken with her head pillowed on his chest, one arm circled around her back. Then, he’d recognized the softness of lips against his skin. Their first time hadn’t been passion, it was mutual loneliness that brought them together. Somehow, they both lost and found themselves there, broken pieces attempting to knit into a semblance of whole. Neither pushed for more, understanding that they weren’t in a place to truly give themselves to someone else.

That knowledge didn’t make the urge to ease Tsunade’s hurt any less tempting. The woman and Kakashi had been the two pinpricks of light in the sea of darkness that dragged at Sakumo for years. He’d fought it, struggled against it, tried to keep his head above the water, but it had grown too much. All the pebbles of anguish from the past years had piled up, ending in a slide that dragged him under. Sakumo’s last thought, as his heartbeat slowed, had been that he wished he could have told Tsunade goodbye too. He had bid a fonder farewell than usual to Kakashi before sending him on a mission yesterday morning. The intervening hours of silence and loneliness had taken their toll.

A sob rose in Sakumo’s throat, and he struggled to force it down. All of his careful plans of sending Kakashi away on a mission suspected to last for several days, and a proposed meeting in his home with one of his oldest friends tomorrow had been ruined by Tsunade. The Hokage would have squared everything away before Kakashi got back from his mission. Though it would hurt, Kakashi was stronger than anyone realized. Sakumo knew the boy could pick up and go on without him.

Tsunade turned in Sakumo’s arms, responding either to the sound he’d failed to hide or the silence that dragged on too long. She breathed his name, hands rising to cradle his cheeks with surprising gentleness. The touch shivered through his entire body. When Tsunade kissed him, it tasted of desperation and loss wrapped tightly in desire. He almost pushed her away,, but it had been so long since someone touched him with love that he couldn’t help but crave it. Sakumo was so cold, and Tsunade blazed against him like a beacon.

In a tangle of limbs and disappearing clothes, the pair made it into the shower. It was hardly large enough for both, but they made it work. Hot water sprayed off Tsunade’s shoulder, creating a mist between them as they pressed closer in the confined space. Crimson ran down, swirling against the white tile before disappearing into the drain. Tsunade’s fingers traced the memory of the mortal wound she’d healed, and Sakumo found himself wishing that she’d left the scar.

“I won’t lose you too,” Tsunade repeated, reaching for Sakumo’s lips a second time. Their difference in height was enough that he lifted her against the wall, presenting his back to the cascading water. Strong legs wrapped around his hips, drawing his body flush against hers until Tsunade filled every sense. Momentarily, the ache in Sakumo’s chest lessened, replaced by heat and hope. Desire chased after them as one hand curled around Tsunade’s hip, rocking with the movements of her body.

Losing himself in the feeling was alarmingly easy. Tsunade arched, nails finding Sakumo’s back as his lips dropped to her shoulder. Long buried emotions surged in response to the warmth. How long had it been since-

“Dad?” Kakashi’s voice came from he other side of the bathroom door, barely loud enough to hear over the running water and the rushing of blood in Sakumo’s ears. Tsunade froze against him, horror painting her features. “We finished our mission early, so I’m home.”

“Just a minute,” Sakumo choked out, fighting to disentangle his limbs from the woman still wrapped around his waist. When he looked at Tsunade, amusement had replaced her shock. She pressed her face against his shoulder, entire body shaking with silent laughter. Sakumo couldn’t stop the sound that bubbled in his chest, mimicking hers.

Sakumo could picture Kakashi tapping his foot on the other side of the door, young features set in annoyance at being delayed. “What did you do in the front room? It looks like you killed someone.”

“I cut myself cleaning my tanto,” Sakumo responded automatically, finally getting free of the shower to wrap a towel around himself.

Kakashi huffed, annoyed about the mess or Sakumo’s lack of skill. “I’m going to get it cleaned up before it stains the floor,” the boy said, voice heavy with adult responsibility. “You really should be more careful.”

Quiet feet retreated from the door, and Sakumo leaned against the wall with a sigh.

“You really should be more careful,” Tsunade said, alarmingly close to Sakumo’s back. Her hand ran over muscles still slick with water as she kissed between his shoulders. ‘I’m going to stick around to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.“ Again. The word went without saying.

Eventually, Sakumo would need to explain Tsunade to Kakashi. She’d left before the boy had been old enough to remember her presence, though her legend would precede her. Having both of them nearby made the weight of a few hours ago seem almost bearable. One day at a time, Sakumo repeated the mantra that had kept him going for so long, wrapping one arm around Tsunade. Just take it one day at a time.


words: 9.1k (another lengthy one o gosh)

genre: a good ole angst

synopsis: hansol can’t help the way his heart flutters around you even though you are strictly friends, and through years of friendship has the shy boy seen you at your worst. however he constantly puts aside his affections for you to watch you fall in love with someone else, someone who only breaks you more than he cares for you.

!this scenario was inspired was this vine so if u wanna check it out i linked it for you!

“You can’t treat me like this!” You screamed, fingers curling into clenched fists while salty tears left glistening tracks down your cheeks. “I’m not just some ghost who only appears when you want me to and I’m certainly not just someone you can use until you’ve gotten your fix!”

His tall and lean form slithered off the couch, heavy footsteps padding against the oak flooring until he was less than a foot away from you. Your vision was blurry and your head was throbbing from the sound of your own screams. The colours that should have been separated were now blending together like an artist mixing their paint. You couldn’t meet his eyes, you couldn’t meet any of the eyes that were burning ashes into your skin, people lazily strewn over the couch while others were flicking their lighters in the far corners.

He was suddenly laying his hands across your shoulders, the pads of his fingers slightly digging into your skin. Your fists remained clenched as he shifted closer, his gravelly voice next to your ear while the stale smell of alcohol clung to his clothing. Of course he had been drinking. It was the only thing he could do that would help him see you again, the only thing he could use to make his past mistakes fade so that you were his only guidance of light.

“Not here angel,” he whispered, “meet me in our usual spot at 7?”

A fresh wave of anger washed over you, anger and sadness and everything in between. You really were just a ghost to him. But the sad truth was, whenever he summoned you, you would blindly appear. Things will be different, you’d think while jogging along the evening streets, a slight glimmer of hope burning inside your heart because if he really found you repulsive and useless, he wouldn’t be calling you back.

You felt the final straw being pulled. Without thought you shoved his hands away from you and delivered a harsh push against his chest. Using the sleeves of your sweater you quickly wiped the beads of tears away from your cheeks, a few gasps echoing from the corners as the sturdy boy stumbled backwards. His eyes were filled with nothing but a glossy venom, an intoxicated hatred forming especially for you.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed using me like this, because it’s never going to happen again.”

Without another moment to spare you whipped around and stalked towards the door, cold stares following you all the way down the crumbly cement staircase and onto the sidewalk. The fresh autumn air outside was proving to feel much better for your lungs than the stuffy and smoky air inside his house, a deep breath circulating into your chest while you powered somewhere far from here.

Somewhere far away from the cheater that had been your boyfriend.

Hansol couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered towards the large glass window situated to the side of the classroom, his pencil tapping against the hard cover of his textbook. The lesson taking place by the whiteboard wasn’t at all interesting to him, and though he knew the value of taking notes, watching the fiery orange leaves that were drifting from the tree branches became his new priority.

He didn’t complain when his teacher sat him next to the window, and though he was at the front, no one ever noticed him drawing doodles in his notebook or playing cats cradle with a rubber band he’d found next the bookshelf. He supposed the front did have it’s perks.

While he continued to focus on the crackly leaves racing towards the ground, Hansol reached for his phone shoved into his pocket and pressed play on his music. The monotone voice of his teacher finally ceased, and in seconds he was bumping his leg to the beat. In his moments of completely blowing off the lesson, something managed to pry his eyes away from the trees. A silver car slowly pulled up to the walkway, and Hansol couldn’t help the slim grin that tugged at his lips.

After all he was grinning about you. Early this morning he received a text about how you would miss first period together due to a checkup at the doctors. Now you were finally here, a reluctant smile on your face as you waved your mother goodbye. Hansol’s cheek fell into the palm of his hand while a light fluttering sensation took over his stomach. It was impossible for him not the feel the tingly wrath of the butterflies when a  soft breeze tickled back a few strands of your hair, your hand darting out to crunch a leaf that fell from the top of the oak tree.

As much as Hansol carried a strong dislike for cliche things, he knew his feelings for you were exactly that. Years of innocent friendship couldn’t suddenly transform into a blossoming relationship, you couldn’t just change the same look in your eyes to a gaze that was now filled with affection and overflowing warmth. Being a naturally shy and awkward boy had always held Hansol back from expressing himself towards you. He liked to think it was better that way.

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

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3 A.M. to Sunrise

Originally posted by c-jacksonn

Word Count 1.3K

Setting: Modern AU

Pairing: Hercules Mulligan x Reader

Warning: none?

A/N: Hi everyone :) I haven’t written anything for like three weeks and I’m sorry. Sorta stuck in a really bad writer’s block, but I managed to at least write this? I’m sorry if it’s really bad :/ but I at least hope you guys like it :) 

ALSO please, if you can, leave feedback on this fic or any other fic I’ve posted :) It helps keep me motivated to keep writing stuff. Hope you have a great day!

The stars twinkled against the dark night sky. The small puffs of air I made every time I breathed out were visible in the cold air. My feet subconsciously led me somewhere, as my mind was busy thinking. Thinking about what? I’m not sure myself. I kept walking until my feet stopped and I realized where I was.

The familiar mahogany door and grey paint of the house that I’ve seen countless of times told me that this was Herc’s house. My fingers lightly rapped on the door then I took a step back to wait. Regretting my decision, I began to turn away as I heard the door open, revealing a sleepy Herc. His pajamas were crinkled from sleeping and his hand was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“What happened _____? It’s three o’clock in the morning.” He murmured as he looked at me.

Still regretting my decision, I crossed my arms defensively. “I-i don’t know… I-i couldn’t sleep… Sorry for waking you I should just walk back home,” I stuttered out softly.

Herc shook his head and gestured for me to come inside, “Come in it’s too cold for you to go back, plus I’m already awake.”

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Originally posted by deangifsdaily

Characters- Dean x Reader

Summary- He was wonderful; until he made you hate him. Can his trespasses be forgiven?

Word Count- 1,895

Warnings- Language

A/N- Erin (@winchestersnco) sent me a prompt ‘He was the bane of your existence and the darkness in your life.’ and this was the result. I’d also like to say I don’t take requests, so please don’t ask. Hope you like this one!

The first few times you met, he was more than nice. He was charming, incredibly handsome, and proved himself to be a great hunter. He was quick-witted, and a great shot. Plus he managed to surprise you each time with how much he cared about people.

He made it no secret that he liked you, though took it well each time you turned him down gently. He never pushed, always taking your polite ‘no’ for what it was. A rare quality it seemed for men you met, always getting damn near groped every time you went to a bar. You respected him, and were getting dangerously close to having serious feelings for him.

The times he met you since, though, he was different. He was reckless, almost as if he was trying to get himself killed. He threw himself into his work and it seemed as though he were going through the motions. His brother not at his side should have been the first red flag- the two hardly ever separated in your short experience with them. Yet here he was, hunting on his own.

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Drunken Confessions

↳ In between the too many shots you confess your feelings towards your best friend, but will he remember?

Genre: Semi-fluff

Pairing: Taehyung | Reader

Word Count: 1,502

Originally posted by eyehealyou

“(Y/N)? Come here and help me place the gardenias to the other side,” my mom called out from the backside of the shop.

I went over to her and grabbed to pots of them when the small bell that we have attached to the door, rang. “Go greet the customer, please. I’ll arrange this,” mom said grabbing the pots out my hand.

I walked over plastering a fake smile on my face but then it soon changed once I saw who it was. “Tae!” I squeaked walking faster to him wrapping my arms around his neck.

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sixpenceee there has been a series of strange and scary events at my house lately and I’d like to share

above is the unedited recording of a spirit board session my medium friend, brother, and I had in my basement at 3:15 am on June 7th of 2014

it’s long and has a lot of silences but I’m asking for you and your followers help explaining and decoding this, because frankly, I’m terrified. There is heavy breathing and banging in the background with no specified source, too.

at one point in the recording, I get so scared that I leave the circle and refuse to take part in the session any more and watch my friend (Sarah) and my brother (James) continue.

I live in a house that was built only four years before we moved in. This is the first time since I was a kid that I’ve felt unsafe in it, but I can’t sleep at night.

I should start at the beginning.

at the beginning of May, I came home from school to find myself alone in my home. This was slightly unusual, as my dad works from home, but not unsettling because he does go to meetings and things. I walk into my kitchen and get a can of cat food to feed my kitties. I put it onto a plate and call my cats to dinner before leaving the plate on the basement stairs, where my cats start to eat. I close the door behind me when I walk up to my first floor again, and then up the stairs to my room. I set down my backpack and wet my hair in the bathroom next to my room. About two minutes have passed since entering my household and I’m blow drying my hair, my mom runs upstairs and appears in my open doorway and starts yelling at me.

What’s going on with all the blood?” she sounds angry and panicky

I obviously have no idea what’s she’s talking about. “Blood?”

“On your shoes!”

she’s not an angry woman.

she begins to run down the stairs.

about halfway down I call to her. “Mom,”

she stopped and turned

Mom, I’m wearing my shoes.”

she gave me a terrifying look of horror.

When we got down to the hallway connecting my front door to my kitchen, my dad was standing next to a wall, my brother’s black converse shoe, a puddle of water, and a trail of blood.

The shoe was lying in a pool of water and blood, nowhere near any sink or water outlet, puddling against the hallway wall. Leading away from the puddle and towards my living room were about eight to ten droplets of red blood in a trail, where they mysteriously stopped.

We immediately assumed one of our animals. But after checking my cats’ mouths, butts, and assuring that they were still munching down tuna in gravy, I knew it wasn’t them. The water didn’t smell like urine, either. My dogs had been locked in their cages as well, since I had been home for such a short amount of time I hadn’t had the chance to let them out. There were no signs of blood on the wall or the ceiling, either. I know how blood pulls onto paper towel, and it was without question real.

So how did it get there?

My parents cleaned it up and acted like nothing had happened.

No one else was home.

This was the first.

After this incident, two other strange things have occurred. The next two happened in the same night.

I came home from a party around midnight one night and laid upstairs in my room. I was charging my phone and carousing tumblr in my dark room before going to sleep, but as I glanced up I noticed my shades were crooked. I got up and fixed them, and lay back down. A few minutes later, they were messed up again. Not concerned, I fixed them and lay back down. The third time, I got up, tired, fixed them, and as I lay back down, my pillow wasn’t on my bed.

In fact, it was across my room.

Terrified, I turned away from the window and didn’t get up again, even though I noticed the sliver of moonlight for a crooked blind playing on my wall.

The next morning, my father told me about his strange dreams.

He went to bed around 9:30, he said, after taking a decongestant for his allergies. He told me about how he kept drifting off and almost achieving sleep before hearing blood curdling screams and women crying.

Over and over. Every time he got close to sleep.

Chalking it up to strange dreams from the decongestant, he kept drifting off until 11 when he finally went to sleep.

“The funny thing is,” he told me, brows furrowed, “is that when I woke up this morning, the decongestant pill and my glass of water were on my nightstand.”

It turns out I never took it at all.

I know this is long, but bear with me.

That was about two weeks before my medium friend, Sarah, came to stay with me for a few days. When she came over, we conducted this session for shits and giggles. We are both very spiritual people and know how to use a ouija board well and how to sense energy. We gave my brother James a quick introduction before we started and, being so early in the morning, he was half asleep anyway, a good conductor for a spirit to use to talk to us with.

Everything was going well until James asked about the blood on my hallway floor.

Before I started the recording we had tried some introductory questions with little answer until we asked “Who are you?” and “What time are you from?” we asked them so close in time to each other that we couldn’t tell what the spirit was answering in the beginning of the recording.

Basically it tells up “Bozoas”.

After some quick research I determine that it’s most likely a name, “Bozoa” or a possesion, like “Bozoa’s”

you can determine for yourself though.

James then says, “Do you know anything about the blood on the floor?

When the planchette lands on yes, I feel a very negative presence and leave the session.

We ask what he or she knows, and they answer with


and then “G”

and then the spirit shows us no communication after that.

my first (and google’s first) reaction was the name Tyler. After some digging though, I found that TLYR is a Reddit acronym for “To long, you read”, usually used by redditors asking for quick descriptions of lengthy comments or posts that they were too lazy to read.

“Too long, you read”


“Too long you read,”



sixpenceee, please help me, or signal boost this so I can find someone who can. Should I try to contact Bozoas again? And what about the negativity I feel in my room, specifically my window?

I’m scared. Send help. 

Message me here if you listen and catch anything I miss.

  ( cutebmo I heard you know about this stuff too so I’m tagging you)

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