last one i swear i just wanted to do halt and will

Mock up the courage

Bucky x reader

Notes: fluff, just pure fluff. 

A/N: Bucky is tired and needy and just wants to cuddle. (who. fuckin’. wouldn’t?!)

Originally posted by sebastianobrien

If there was ever something more adorable than Bucky being tired or in any way not feeling well, you’d never seen it. Now, the serum made sure he was never not feeling well, but it didn’t help exhaustion after a week long mission with only 2 hours of sleep a day.

This is why he came stumbling into your floor, somehow overriding every security protocol with his left over spy-skills, calling out your name at two in the morning.

Actually, it was more like a drawn out whine.

Keep reading

percyyoulittleshit  asked:

I write a bad pick up line on your cup every time I’m your barista’ Or ‘Should I be concerned about how much caffeine you’re taking in’ For Percabeth

“Coffee guy has a crush on you,” Piper says without preamble, flicking a page in her reading.

“Uh huh,” Annabeth mutters, dragging a highlighter over a line in her book. It’s only after she’s finished an irritated scribble in the margin that the words really penetrate. She glances up at her friend, who is leaning across the table looking amused. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m always ridiculous. And always right. He keeps refilling your coffee.”

Annabeth, who has been lost in a haze of architecture for longer than the hour Piper has been sitting in the cafe with her, has not really been aware of her drink being refilled. She’s reached for her mug when she wanted a drink, and the mug has always had coffee in it. The logical inconsistency between the amount of times she’d reached for the cup and the cup never being empty had not really jumped out at her until now.

“If he’s refilling my coffee and not yours, that just makes him rude.”

“Oh, no. He’s been refilling mine. When you started swearing at your book before, it nearly overflowed, and it wasn’t because he was scandalised.”

Annabeth sighs, refusing to glance over her shoulder at the coffee guy in question. It’s not like she doesn’t already know what he looks like, the guy is six foot tall with a build like an Olympian swimmer and a jawline that could cut glass. She manages to drag her brain to a halt before it starts listing things to compare his eye colour to: Piper is smirking at her reading in a way that suggests she’s learnt how to read minds.

“He was probably impressed with my command of the english language.”

“He was impressed with something, all right.” Piper shuts her folder with a snap. “Right, i’m done here.”

“That reading was fifty-one pages, you’re so full of shit.”

“The fact that you know how long my readings are is terrifying, you know that?”

“Do your homework!”

“Can’t hear you, running away to get a restraining order!” She’s halfway to the door by the time she sing-songs that, leaving Annabeth with her nearly empty coffee mug and a cafe full of people giving her the stink eye.

“If you need an alibi, I can testify that you’ve been here pretty much all day.”

Coffee guy has a nice voice. Warm, smooth, just this side of deep without sounding like the trailer guy. It takes Annabeth an embarrassing amount of time to register that she’s thinking this because he’s standing right next to her, holding a coffee pot. It’s a good thing her self control is world renowned, because she uses all of it to keep from jumping out of her skin.

“What? I - no, she’s joking. We’re friends. Really.”

His grin is distractingly crooked. “I’m convinced.”

“I’m gonna kill her,” Annabeth mutters, hoping against hope that she’s not blushing, or something equally ridiculous.

“That’s probably not going to help in court.”

Her brain is - slowly - retreating out of coffee-and-study survival mode. A joke, she realises belatedly, and the rueful laugh escapes her before she can think to bite it back. And - something in coffee guy’s shoulders relaxes, just a little bit. Nervous, she thinks, and finds herself predisposed to like him. Smart boys know to think very carefully before approaching Annabeth Chase, and that’s the way she likes it.

She tucks an errant curl behind her ear. “I’ll plea insanity. Over-caffeination.” She glances down at her cup. “Actually, would you mind–?”

His face scrunches up with something like concern. “That’ll be your sixth cup.”

“Aren’t you the guy who’s been topping me up?”

“Grover seemed to think you might, I dunno, eat us or something if you ran out. I was protecting the good people of the cafe, but apparently cutting you off means stopping a murder.”

A groan escapes her, something like shame crawling up the back of her throat. Annabeth knows she’s got a serious case of resting bitch face (and she’ll fight anyone who suggests that’s a problem),but she doesn’t want the entire campus to be terrified of her.

Just wary.

“I’m not…actually some hyper-violent lady with a hair-trigger, honestly.”

“Oh hey no, I didn’t mean to–” And he’s groaning? He rubs the back of his neck, which is slowly turning red, and Annabeth starts to feel less off-kilter. “I’m bad at flirting.”

She’s definitely going to murder Piper. This is her fault somehow, Annabeth’s sure.

“Same,” she rushes out, before over-thinking can make this even messier. Her whole body feels energised, jittery, and she doesn’t think it’s the coffee. “Um. Just one more refill? To get me through the last bit of this chapter?”

“Wh - uh, right. Sure!” He squints at her. “You don’t mind?”

Annabeth rocks her mug from side to side, watching the dregs of her drink slosh from side to side. Black, no sugar. It seems like the safer option right now.

She takes a breath.

“Haven’t decided yet,” she says. “I’ll let you know when i’m done with this chapter.”

She’s not looking at him directly, but his grin is wide enough to be seen from space, let alone the corner of her eye.

“You got it,” he says happily, topping her mug off. He’s on the verge of pulling away when he pauses, like he’s remembered something. “It’s Percy, by the way. So you don’t have to keep calling me coffee guy.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Annabeth to seriously reconsider committing that murder.

Busy

A NIGHT AT HOME | YOONGI VERSION

WORD COUNT: 3,328

warnings: graphic smut, swearing, masturbation, rough sex, oral sex, overstimulation

Originally posted by bwiseoks

masterlist | ask | song


Stirring the white milk into the coffee you sighed, bored out of your brain. Your boyfriend was busy working in the home recording studio you had built for him for his birthday, as he was most nights. Yoongi was a member of the internationally famous kpop group BTS, and had even released mix tapes and solo tracks of his own. He was so very passionate about music, in fact, that’s how the two of you had met.

Three years ago you were out buying a new sound system as your room mate had broken yours, Yoongi was in the quiet music store too; he introduced himself as a sales assistant to help you find the best ‘value for money’ equipment, as you didn’t have much cash with you. Of course things started to get a little fishy when said sales clerk asked if you had a boyfriend, whereabouts you like to go eat and what your living arrangements were. Eventually he confessed he didn’t work at the store, but was very intrigued by you and wanted to get to know you better.

Later that night he took you to your favourite restaurant just outside of town and you exchanged numbers before he dropped you off at home. A week later you couldn’t contain your huge Cheshire Cat like grin when he showed up at your door at midnight, blasting music from the most expensive sound system you’d both seen in store.

“Y/N! I saw this in a movie last night, is it working?! Did I get the girl?! Let me in before your neighbours call the cops!”

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heaven is a place on earth (m)

↳ crossroads demon au

pairing: shin hoseok | reader
genre: fluff, slight crack, smut.
word count: 10,669
description: “Hey there sweetheart, you called? How may I help you today?” Calling upon a crossroads demon might’ve been the best decision you’ve ever made in life. At least until it involves pizza.
author’s note: this was too tempting to write… thank @jiminscreaming​ for convincing me to do it.

Originally posted by bunnywonho

Waiting for the pizza to arrive wanes on your patience, and much to your immense displeasure, you can’t help but pout on the floor, hoping that the damn pizza will arrive soon. Not that you would ever complain about Changkyun, but you were certainly considering it from the amount of time he’s been taking to arrive to your place. It isn’t even like he should get lost he’s actually been to your place to deliver pizzas more times than you’d ever admit.

But before you can dial the number to the pizza place just to ask about the status of your pizza, there’s a knock and doorbell at your door which you excitedly rise for and rush toward the door.

Unfortunately, the sight behind it is not Changkyun with your beloved pizza, but a silver and blue-haired demon that you can’t help but glower at despite the confusion you have at seeing him donning a red and white cap with the pizza logo on it or the fact that he’s holding a box of pizza in his hand.

“Wonho, what the hell? Where’s my pizza? If you do not quit your shit, I swear I will find a way to cut your tail off. I don’t even care if you don’t have one either. Grow one or some shit.” You growl the moment he appears in your doorway.

With that goddamn smirk curving on his lips, he replies, “Try it, sweetheart. I like it kinky.”

He’s a demon from your own personal hell, and this is literally speaking.

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My Biggest Mistake (Barnes/Romanoff/Rogers x reader)

Request:  Cheating Angst of Bucky cheating on the reader with Natasha (Reader’s best friend) And when she finds out, Bucky and Natasha go running to apologize to her. But the reader doesn’t wanna hear it, so she ignores them. One day, Steve tries to convince her to forgive the both of them, because of how sad both, Bucky and Natasha were for the mistake. Which the reader comes in and forgives them ^^ (MAKE IT SUPA ANGSTY PLEASE) THANK YOU AGAIN BONNIE! ILYSM! 

Okay, I’m not a fan of full-on cheating stories, so I toned it down a little.  Also, I’m not very forgiving of it.  I hope you like where I took it tho!

You should have known.  

Keep reading

Delta (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 8  A/B/O

A/N: HEY GUYS! It’s finally here! This is definitely one of my favorite chapters. Hopefully I’ll be posting part 9 later on tonight (I live in the us so it’ll be a bit later for y'all lol) but I’ve made it halfway at least!! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Warnings: minor character death. Swearing. 



Three Years Ago:

You stared down at the coffins as they lowered into the ground. Your cheeks were completely tear stained, your mascara running down your face in clumps. Your hair was extremely soaked, as the rest of you was. You couldn’t believe this was happening. They were just going on their anniversary date like they did every year, yet somehow they were hit head on by a drunk driver. Your father always used to scold Remy for drunk driving, yet ironically, it’s what ended up ending his life.

Remy took a puff from his cigarette, exhaling a large cloud of smoke that blew right into your face. Your eyes watered and you let out a cough.

“Where are we going now?” You asked, peering up at your older brother. Remy stared forward, completely ignoring your question. His eyes seemed completely glazed over, just like it always did when he used to drink.

“What do you mean we?” he murmured, throwing the bug onto the ground and stepping on it with his shoe.You reached forward, trying to place your hand in his, only for him to yank it back. Immediately, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

“W-Where are you gonna go?” You asked, watching with fearful eyes as he turned and began walking away. He ignored your question completely, walking past the graveyard.  You followed him quickly, stepping over the large headstones in the process.

“Remy!” You cried. “Please don’t leave me!”

He halted in his tracks, his head hung low, casting his gaze to the ground. Those few seconds felt like an eternity. He turned around, looking at you with a completely emotionless expression.

“Il est temps pour vous de grandir maintenant, gamin,” he spoke, a small frown danced across his lips as his eyes scanned over your tear stained face.

“Delta appartiennent sur leur dos, après tout.”

With that he turned around and began walking away once again.

“See you around, Y/N.” he called over his shoulder as he strolled.

That day, you lost your mother and father. They were gone from this earth, leaving you alone and afraid. But deep down, you felt as though you lost your brother as well.



*One Month After Chap. 7*

Seeing Remy was going to be extremely difficult.

Getting ahold of him, that would the hardest part.

The last time you saw each other wasn’t exactly a good experience. Words were exchanged, things were said that you regretted.

“Unfortunately, I’ve found zero men with the name Remy Y/L/N,” Vision informed, restacking the large papers in his hands. He took it upon himself to help Tony and Bucky with the search, as the latter wasn’t exactly tech savvy at the moment. That and Vision liked to be included in these things; it made him feel useful.

Bucky let out a sigh as he took a sip of his coffee. The third one this hour to be exact. As grateful as you were, you were starting to grow worried for him. He hadn’t exactly slept for more than three or so hours, only taking small naps here and there, also when you forced him. The last thing you wanted was to impose on the team, but what choice did you two have?

You absentmindedly rubbed your tummy.

Being at the one month mark, you were starting to show a bit. Children born in the alpha/beta/omega dynamics were born earlier, meaning instead of the usual nine months, you’d be ready to pop in five.

And it terrified you to no end.

In five short months you would be giving birth to Bucky’s baby. And you wouldn’t be bonded. At least, you didn’t know yet. You had no idea where you stood with Bucky. He cared about you, you figured that when you and he got intimate more and more often. You hadn’t exactly done the actual deed since your heat, but you could tell he wanted to.

When you two did get intimate, it usually ended with Bucky’s face between your thighs. Which you had no complaints about.

But you needed to find your brother first before you made any vast decisions.

Bucky rested his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes tiredly. You felt a pang of longing as you looked down at him. He was exhausted, but refused to actually rest until your brother was found and that document was signed. He jokingly mentioned that he’d force Remy to sign it, even if that mean he had to hold the man’s hand and do it himself.

The image of Bucky angrily scribbling on the document with your brother’s hand entangled in his made you chuckle a bit. You had no doubt he wouldn’t do it.

“I think I’ve got something!” Peter exclaimed, causing everyone to scurry around him.

“What did you find?” Pepper yawned from Tony’s lap. The two were seated on the leather sofa, her legs sprawled across his lap. She had fallen asleep a while ago, the exhaustion of three days without sleep finally caught up with her. Steve was on the other side of Tony, his head lulling onto the armrest of the sofa.

Tony, who was completely passed out at the moment, shot up as soon as Pepper elbowed him in the ribs. “What? What I miss?” he sputtered.

“Y/N,” Natasha called over to you. She turned the laptop around, revealing a picture of a man. “Is this the club he owns?”

With a subtle nod of your head, everyone let out sighs of relief.

Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on the website

“He calls himself Gambit?” he snorted, scrolling down the site’s page. Apparently, he owned a very high end casino in Baton Rouge, which was infamous for hosting illegal gambling nights. Your parents would probably be rolling over in their graves right now.

But then again, they would’ve been even more disappointed in your life choices.

“I say we give it a shot,” Bucky whispered into your ear. His flesh hand rested on your stomach as he spoke. You could feel his chin rest on your shoulder.

“What do I even say to him?” You scoffed, peering down at the phone in your hand. You had no idea how you’d even start a conversation with him in the first place. Should you ask him how he’s doing? No, that was too suspicious. Should you bring up mom and dad? God, no. He would surely hang up on you instantly.

You stared down at the cellphone in your hand. Vision was really good, you’ll admit that. How did he even get ahold of his personal phone number? You wondered if Vision even got the right information. What if there was another Remy Y/L/N in the same area?

You typed in the numbers on the screen and paused. As much as you hated this, you had to give it a chance. You prayed that he’d understand your situation. Bucky pressed a small kiss to your cheek and whispered encouragements in your ear.

“Even if he doesn’t want to listen, my offer still stands.” You playfully elbowed him in the ribs.

You couldn’t fight the smile that grew on your face as you took him Bucky’s dorky grin. You’d love to see that happen.

With a deep breath, you pressed call.

“Hello?” That didn’t sound like your brother.

“Hi, is this Remy?” you asked politely. The man went silent for a few seconds.

“Oh…uh…you’ve got the wrong number,” He replied harshly before hanging up.  

You felt your insides drop.

What just happened?

“Y/N?” Pepper asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You yanked your shoulder away and stood from the couch, storming down the hallway.

You couldn’t be there anymore. You needed to breathe; it didn’t matter where you went, as long as you were alone. As you walked down the corridors, you could hear Bucky calling your name from afar. Picking up your pace, you made it to the elevator.

“Y/N, wait!” Bucky called out as he raced towards the elevator, only for the doors to close before he got a few feet away from you. He let out a string of curses as he raced towards the stairway.

You let out a sob as soon as the doors closed. Your heart was broken once again, not for yourself, but for the life growing inside you. You weren’t sure before, but you were now, especially since so much was at stake.

You wanted this baby and you wanted a life with Bucky.

The doors opened and you immediately exited the building, ignoring Friday’s warnings.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” she chimed. “I would advise you to stay inside. It’s not safe without the protection of Mr. Barnes.”

Ignoring her, you pushed open the doors and walked away, picking a random direction and for once, letting your instincts guide you. 

“Mr. Stark,” Friday chimed, causing the older man to jump. 


“What is it, Friday?” he asked, not looking up from his phone. He had sent you over thirty texts, yet you still weren’t replying. You didn’t leave your phone here, so what was the deal?

“I’m afraid we have a visitor, the head of the ABO Registration is in the lobby.”

Tony’s phone fell from his hand as the words rung throughout his brain. What the hell was he doing here?

It had been an entire month since the giant showdown at the hospital, and the fact that you weren’t sterilized yet probably raised some eyebrows. But for fuck’s sake, the head of the registry was here? Couldn’t he have sent a team or something?

“Friday, get my suit ready.” he stood, making his way towards his lab. 

“Everyone else, suit up.” 


Central Park was beautiful at night.

You were seated on a small bench beside one of the many giant oak trees surrounding the area. The only source of light was a tall, skinny lamp post a few feet away from you and even that barely gave you enough light to see properly. You shivered, rubbing your hands over your arms.

You really needed to plan things out better the next time you decided to run off.

With a sigh, you rested your head in your hands. What on earth were you going to do now? Should you leave? No, the government would probably track you down in seconds, way before you could actually go anywhere. Not to mention, Bucky would lose his mind if you took off. He was the father of your child, you weren’t going to take that away from him.

You couldn’t survive without him, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

Suddenly, the sound of faint whistling pulled you from your thoughts.

You lifted your head, peering around the park. This was such a bad idea now that you finally thought about it. God knows how many alphas were just roaming around New York at night. And you, probably the only delta in New York, had to run off without any  kind of protection. You left your phone in the lobby when you exited the tower and now you were highly regretting that.

You stood from the bench, backing away from where you last heard the whistling. Your breathing began growing faster with each backward step you took. The whistling had stopped completely, but you were still highly paranoid. You hated that feeling.

You kept backing away from the noise until you were suddenly bombarded with the smell of vanilla and leather.

“Un petit oiseau me dit qu'un certain delta me poursuivait,” a voice muttered behind you.

A little birdy told me that a certain delta was looking for me.

Your eyes widened at the words. No way…that wasn’t possible. How did he…

You turned around, expecting to see the same young man from three years ago, but instead, you were met with the man leaning against the light pole as he stared down at you. The smoke from his cigarette surrounded him as he watched you intently.

Flicking the cigarette to the side, he pushed off the light pole, casually strolling towards you. He was at least a foot taller than you now and twice the size in muscles. But his face was still the same, not matter how much he tried to change.

“So tell me, sis,” he smirked, his eyes falling to your stomach. He placed his hands in his pockets.

"Who’s the lucky guy?”


-FIN! ❤️


(Remy is such a drama king lol) (;

Tag list of super awesome people ❤️:

EDIT: sorry the tags were acting crazy so i had to re-tag yall lol. 

@sebbylover24 @ballerinafairyprincess @thelostswan @abigailredgrave @calicokitkat @c-maximoffs @vibraniumdoll @nenyakj @sebsat-an @diana-daydreamer @phoenix21love @demonictufteddeer @livforthegames @harrisbn @amrita31199 @gingerbatchwife @space-wine-and-donuts @adrianabribiescacortes @babbt @kaykayvoltage53 @kerzenphilosophie @twinklingstarlight @callmeoncette @r3stl3ss-minds @amrita31199@jezzula@mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @softwintersoldier @killer-stiles @shell7609 @saffreelove @koolok1996 @bad-wolf87 @allinhishands @buckbuckboobear @svetlanaabril @answer-the-sirens @sammyissassy @i-write-tragedies-and-sins @bitchslapthatbitcontheass @kaitskennedyy @melconnor2007 @dracu-ma-bucky @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @shieldagentofthemonth @witheringblooddemon @confuzzled-panda @astralbarnes @jenn0755 @jenna-luke @bellaballanda @38leticia @davinaciaire @this-is-reighlen @bubblegumpuff @gypsygirllover19

anonymous asked:

“the woman who has his damndelion heart" Oh my god this was amazing! So cute . I loved it so much. Is there going to be a next part?

Aww hun my heart is bursting from your kind words, thank you so much! I don’t think I’m going to write a part III anytime soon since I had a bit of difficulty writing part II haha … maybe sometime in the future I will pick up the story but who knows. I will, however, leave you with this little blurb I had written as part of the series but never actually put it into the story. I’d imagine it fit right in between Braids and Excuses


Catnap  💤

When he finds you on the couch, a few hours later, reading your anatomy textbook, he sighs from relief at the familiar sight (and the peace and quiet). Anne had graciously offered to shift the reunion to the backyard to give you a quiet place to study even though you had originally asked to go the library for a few hours. The clangs of glasses echoed slightly from outside, but you didn’t seem to mind, lost in your own world from the way you hadn’t noticed Harry plopping himself next to you, laying his head on your comfortable shoulder while crossing his arms in an exhausted sigh.

“Love?”  

You refused to indulge him, determined to finish this week’s chapter.

“Pet?” 

The feeling of his curls rubbed sweetly against your neck as he peered up to look at you (damn him).

Muppet?

“Harry!” you snapped stretching his name in annoyance. “Jus’ give me a sec.” You took a deep breath to calm yourself as you flipped a page of your book roughly, eyes still concentrating on your readings. 

“Hmm,” a familiar accusing tone surfaced in his groggy voice, “someone’s gettin’ snippy…”

His comment was ignored once again, but he didn’t mind. He felt quite smug at the moment. The ever so patient Y/N had crumbled slightly in the depths of his over-eager family (despite him triggering the hindrance).

“She lasted longer than anyone,” Harry thought to himself, eyes grazing over the complicated words of her book. His eyes dropped slightly, as a deep wave of exhaustion over took him. He gazed over to his family through the glassed doors, his sister was holding Jamie in her arms and he was grateful for the moment of peace without the little one. He loved her to bits of course, but she exhausted the wits out of him. He closed his eyes, finally, as a deep slumber over took his body.

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burn through my soul

a  fyre festival au because i have 0 chill, set in the ‘marble hearts collide’ universe bc ria asked for like an 80k companion fic, and because 36 of you seemed to like the idea. basically: it’s half fyre and half ust denial jily and a Big Mess.

for @gxldentrio @petalstofish who asked for more and @fredweasleying who supports james and sirius’ stupidity

most of my info is off the snapchat stories, articles and tweets but i’ve also done a lot of exaggerating, so take all reference to the festival with a bit of salt

It’s Sirius’ idea because, if it involves a stupid waste of money and the promise of celebrity chefs, it will always be his idea. And, because it’s Sirius’ idea, James is in. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Lily says, scrolling through the festival’s instagram. 

“No, it’s luxury,” Sirius says and snatches his phone back, “you wouldn’t understand.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, “she practically lives with you, I think she understands what luxury is.”

“And waste of money,” Peter adds, helpfully. 

“I can’t believe I let any of you into my house, when you’ve just come to insult me!” Sirius pouts, throwing himself dramatically back on the chaise. 

“Criticise your money spending habits,” Remus corrects, and just manages to dodge a throw pillow Sirius launches at him. 

‘What does Potter think, anyway?” Lily asks, looking down at her own phone. 

“Why does Potter’s opinion matter?” Sirius retorts. 

Lily is definitely avoiding eye contact, “It doesn’t.”

There’s a murmur of disbelief, and Lily scowls at her phone, knowing that if she looks up she’ll be accosted by five raised eyebrows, because only Sirius has learnt how to raise both separately. 

“But, seriously, when is Prongs back?”

“Well, Moony, funny you should ask…” Sirius smirks, “he arrived last night.”

Lily’s head shoots up, “but -”

“But what Evans, not happy to see me?” A voice comes from the doorway, and they all turn to see James leaning, not as gracefully as Sirius would have, against the doorjamb with a smirk to match Sirius’ on his face. 

“How long have you guys been planning that?” Peter asks, and he’s not as fast as Remus so a throw pillow hits him in the stomach.

Remus laughs, “probably longer than they’ve been planning this festival bullshit.” 

“Losers,” Lily mutters, finally looking away from James, pretending that her phone screen is more interesting than the bit of chest his loosely tied dressing gown shows. 

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“Seventeen Days” (Part 4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Fantasy/College AU)

Summary: An angel from heaven is sent back to Earth to prevent college senior Bucky Barnes from ending his life. But here’s the catch - she only has seventeen days to do it.

Seventeen Days (Masterlist)

“Siri, why does Bucky Barnes hate me?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t find ‘why does Borky Burnes hate me?’ Would you like for me to -”

“Ugh, of course you don’t know! Useless!” you groan, haphazardly tossing your phone onto the couch behind. You slump over the coffee table littered with textbooks.

“It’s only Day 2, and you’ve resorted to asking a computer program for help. Good start, (Y/N).”

You bolt upright, heartbeat tapping a rapid staccato pattern as you meet the blue eyes of a certain grim reaper. Standing at the entrance of the safehouse is Steve, and he looks annoyingly delighted at your plight.

The blonde strolls over to the coffee table and grabs a few of the papers scattered on the coffee table, his brow furrowing as he takes in the graphs and numbers. “Why are you memorizing Calculus when you should be seducing Bucky Barnes?”

“It’s not a seduction!” you counter with a huff. “I may have hinted that I’m an expert at Calc with hopes of impressing him.”

“I’m assuming it didn’t work.”

“He hates me, Steve. The heavens have literally trusted me with the celestial mission of keeping him alive, yet he hates me! How am I supposed to convince him to not make the biggest mistake of his life when he hates me?!”

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Not Just A Jock

Originally posted by archic-andrews

Requested by anonymous:

“Hey babe!!!! I am so glad you are back I have missed you. As a senior I understand the pressure! I was wondering if you could write an Archie Andrews imagine? Where maybe she is new and he is intrigued by her but she thinks he is like a mean jock…..? Is that lame? I really do 😘 lysm”

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Notes: First riverdale imagine yay!!! also this is not lame!!!! 

*this is set after Ms Grundy (ew) leaves


“What we all really need is a good night out, so who wants to volunteer to host a party?”

“You’re the one with a penthouse apartment and a totally chill mum, you should be the one to have it.” 

“Ok first off Kev, my mum is the opposite of chill and are you forgetting that we’re basically broke? As if we can afford the damage that will undoubtedly occur after the football team’s paid a visit.”

“Oh please as if- woah.” 

Archie looked up from his guitar and messy song writing notebook at the loud sound of Kevin’s loud gasp. It wasn’t long for Archie to find out what caused Kevin to get distracted from his heated discussion with Veronica. His eyes widened and his grip on his guitar loosened as he stared at possibly the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. 

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Irate - 3

(Part 1) | (Part 2)

Summary:

Y/N’s curious, clumsy, and has a knack for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. Bucky’s a hot-headed prick with a dark past and communication issues. Both are paired for training, and neither party is all too thrilled.

Word count: 1465


“Can I ask you a question?”

You want to say you sound suave and totally collected, but really, it comes out more like you’re being suffocated simultaneously. Bucky’d decided that you were severely out of shape and proposed going for a run. It was a great idea in theory, but now you’re starting to think the running is more for him to be able to rub in your face the fact that he’s fit and you’re not.

“No.”

You ask anyway. “Steve mentioned these abilities I could have. What did he mean?” The question’s been bugging you for a while. Given the chances, you should have gotten at least one opportunity where your supposed abilities got their time to shine, but nada. Do you even have powers? What if it’s something pathetic, like conjuring hot sauce at the snap of your fingers?

You’re so busy snapping your fingers that you almost don’t notice that he doesn’t respond, or even acknowledge that you asked a question.

“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” You’re not the kind of person to snap at someone else, especially not someone that’s supposed to be your superior. Plus, it’s not even among the questions you have in mind, but it’s just such a pressing issue. How can someone be so angry twenty-four seven anyway?

His face takes on a look that you’ve become pretty accustomed to in the last few days: He stares straight ahead of him, not a single emotion flickering over his features, and you know that he’s supressing an eye-roll.

He doesn’t answer.

“See what I mean?” You widen your eyes dramatically and throw your hands up. “You can’t even give me an answer!”

If he’s riled up, he doesn’t show it, and in all honesty, it’s getting you riled up. You’re not going to back down until he gives you some kind of response. Maybe you can even unlock his cliché backstory. So you press further.

“C'mon! There’s got to be something.” No response.

“Even Batman has a reason to be brooding all the time!” He turns to glare at you and you falter for a moment. “Okay, okay, cool, nothing about Batman.”

Bucky closes his eyes and exhales slowly, then faces forward again and picks up the pace. You struggle to keep up with him as he runs you up a hill and through a trail in the forest. You run in silence as you catch your breath and relish in the cool shade of the trees, until you can’t bite your tongue any longer.

“Are you afraid of bats?”

He halts without warning, digging his heels into the ground to come to a complete stop. You keep going, not even noticing that he’s stopped, until you’re running into him. Literally.

Bucky gives you a look of pure exasperation as he grabs your wrists, stepping forward and pulling you in until your hands are resting against his chest. There are so many other questions on your mind, but you can’t remember a single one all of a sudden.

“Shut. Up.” He growls. Your hands can feel the vibrations of his chest.

You’re not scared of Bucky Barnes. You're not. It’s not your fault your voice is an octave higher when you stammer out a meek “sorry.”


So maybe you’re a little scared of Bucky Barnes, but you’re starting to figure him out. His intimidation tactics are straight from the book: glares, low tone of voice, and the whole invasion of personal space thing he’s got going on.

Like right now. You’re wedged between the railing of the training room’s mezzanine and Bucky’s chest. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but you’re hyperaware of everything around you, and every time he speaks, you can feel your own body reverberate. At best, it’s distracting.

“Hold it like this.” Bucky’s breath fans the side of your neck when you speak, and it takes all your willpower to not squirm. His hands grab the gun with yours, but really, he’s doing most of the work. You can barely concentrate, and the gun feels so heavy in your hands you feel like you may drop it if he lets go.

“Aim carefully, and then shoot.” He pulls the trigger. You’re not ready for the kickback, and the force of the gun firing presses you further back into his chest. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. Instead, he opts to kick your left foot forward. You almost topple over, and this time, you swear you can feel him rolling his eyes.

“Hit that target.” He points to the outline of a body near the back of the room, then lets go of the gun, placing his hands on the railing on either side of you so that your back is still against his chest, though now, you barely notice. Your palms feel sweaty and gun feels so wrong in your hands. There’s a little voice at the back of your head telling you that you can’t do it, and you almost turn to look at Bucky for reassurance. Almost.

You aim, or at least, you hope you’re aiming, and this time you prepare yourself for the kickback. Your finger moves slowly across the trigger, and you screw your eyes shut as the gun fires.

This time the sound makes you flinch, and you don’t even have to open your eyes to know that you missed. Bucky sighs, pushing off of the railing and stepping back.

“Great job, rookie. You only missed by twenty fucking feet.”

Sure enough, there’s a hole in the target at the far left of the room.


“What’s the deal with him?”

It’s been five days since you missed every single target in the training room, and Bucky and you have come no closer to being acquainted than you were when you first showed up at the compound. The only thing he seems to do is be too close too often, effectively shutting you up. Part of you is resentful towards yourself for being so intimidated.

Bucky’s on a mission, and for once you’ve gotten time off. You savour it by curling yourself up in blankets, with a hot water bottle pressed against your sore muscles, and complaining to Sam about how Bucky is unreasonably training (you prefer the word ‘torturing’) you everyday.

Sam laughs, giving you a warm smile, and you wonder why Bucky can’t also just, y'know, smile or something? Show some form of emotion that isn’t cold and menacing?

“He’s a tough one,” Sam says.

“How do you even put up with him?” You throw your hands up in exasperation to prove your point, but regret it immediately as pain flares up your sore arms. Sam laughs again.

“Steve trusts him. I trust Steve.”

Steve must be some kind of altruistic hero if everyone seems to like him so much, and if he can handle someone like Bucky. You’ve seen him around a few times here and there, and he always passes you a small smile, but he never seems to have time to stop and talk, and his face is constantly riddled with stress. Not the life you want to live.

“Anyway,” Sam continues. “When Wanda gets back, she’ll probably take over for him. She’s enhanced too, so she’ll make a better trainer in your case.”

There’s that word again. Enhanced. You’ve tried every possible thing you can think of: snapping your fingers, all the possible hand movements you’ve seen in the movies and that the gaps in your memory let you recall, but nothing. (The memory thing is a whole other issue that should keep you up at night, but by the time you go to bed, Bucky’s exhausted you to the point where you can barely keep your eyes open, let alone think). The whole situation is so muddled, and it ignites this panic in your stomach that you’re trying to diminish by not thinking about it. Your thoughts flash back to the words Bucky had said when he was first assigned to train with you.

“He said I can’t be trusted,” you say, turning to face Sam. You wince at the soreness of your muscles, then look at Sam expectantly. “Is it– are there enhanced people–,” the word sounds weird in your mouth. “Am I dangerous?”

Sam frowns. “I don’t think,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts. “He was probably talking about himself, not you.”

It’s your turn to be confused, but before you have a chance to ask him what he means, Steve rushes into the room, a pained look on his face.

“Sam, I–”

Sam stands up. “Hey man, what’s wrong?”

Steve’s entire body is tense as he looks between the two of you, then he sighs, putting his head in his hands.

“It’s Bucky. He’s been shot.”


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Someone asked me how I would describe love…
Simply put I believe when you know you just know.
When you wake up and that person is your first thought before “holy shit I have to pee.”
Or you remember to actually text them when you’re drunk and on your way home.
Or it’s when you struggle with one eye closed just to send them coherent drunk texts cause they’re all that’s on your mind.
It’s when you want to defend them in every fight
Even if it’s a fight against a 200 pound bouncer who will probably throw you down the stairs if you try.
It’s 4 am mornings spent talking about her grandparents and what she did on New Years last year.
And you never remind her that you’re an hour ahead of her and the sun is already up and you have work in 2 hours.
It’s bowling a 30 with her and not even being embarrassed and laughing and kissing the whole while.
Love is wanting to see her In your clothes.
And letting her steal your clothes,
Even though clothes are your favorite thing.
Love is letting yourself cry in front of her
Even if it’s just while watching the fault in our stars.
Or every episode of Greys Anatomy.
Love is the way your stomach flipped the first time you laid in bed with her.
and the way you laid on her lap trying not to touch her too much.
while also wanting to touch her all over because she was so beautiful even in baggy sweatpants and a tshirt.
Love is the way that first night is engrained in your mind so vividly.
From how cold her apartment was and the way you sat exactly three feet from her in the living room so that her roommate would think your intentions were pure.
To the way your heart hammered so loudly each time she touched your face that you swear your insides were black and blue.
It’s her catching you staring at her every time you’re out together because God damn it if you aren’t the luckiest motherfucker alive to have that girl on your arm.
Love is something as small as a two hour subway ride to pick her up from the airport.
So she doesn’t have to navigate alone.
And seeing her around the corner and knowing it’s her just by the perpetually chipped dark nail polish on her fingernails.
It’s the way she clings to you in her sleep.
as if you’re filled with helium and could float away at any moment.
Love is “please don’t pee with me on the phone.”
“Oh my god you’re peeing with me on the phone.”
Now we pee together on the phone.
It’s knowing she likes her coffee black
But her knowing you like yours to be half milk.
Love is like that build up in a song that brings chills you can’t explain,
And it’s that smell that only she has on her breath.
Nothing can quite describe it but it cuts through alcohol and food and smoke and it just… Is.
It’s letting the pups sleep between the two of you
Even though You want her pressed firmly against you all night.
It’s knowing she hates Mexican food but she took you to get enchiladas on your first date anyway.
Love is a series of small things and it comes with knowing that not every love story starts out beautifully.
No sometimes it starts with a drunken kiss or asking her out on a napkin at a bar
(It seemed romantic at the time).
But you know fields of flowers can bloom from the ashes of forest fires.
And the world started with a bang
At least that’s what some people say.
She’s my world, so why shouldn’t we have begun with a crash?
Like the ones that halt traffic for miles,
The ones you can’t tear your eyes away from.
I’ve always been a disaster anyway but she never shielded her eyes from me.
It was seeing her look at me without flinching that made me certain.
Love is saying you’ll never ever do long distance again.
and finding yourself on flights home to see her face because miles can’t measure up to how much you miss her.
Home is where the heart is after all
And love is knowing there’s an inevitability when you fall.
Love is knowing that you’ll probably end up broken into a trillion pieces when it’s all said and done,
But as long as her fingertips craft each and every shard then it’ll still be a masterpiece.
—  The Big Bang by c.r.
Paper Hearts

A stupidly fluffy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Valentine’s Celebration


Simon

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Meet me in Room 172.

           I refold the note, noticing how the paper has already settled into well-known creases since this morning.  It’s not the first anonymous note I’ve gotten over the past week, but it’s the first time the writer has made a move beyond waxing poetic.

           The Watford halls are sickening today, even to me.  I understand the appeal of decorating for Christmas, but Valentine’s Day?  It just seems a little patronizing to adorn the walls in that many paper hearts, whether the hearts can magically float around people’s heads or not.  And it’s not that I’m a cynic, but Valentine’s Day this year was set to be a difficult one for me, since I no longer have Agatha to dote upon.

           But as I slip the little creased note back into my pocket and make for Room 172, the paper hearts seem less mocking and my own beating heart feels just a bit lighter.

           When I reach the door I falter, doubts rushing to my head.  What if there’s no one there?  And what if there is?  Then what?

           But I turn the knob and shove open the door.

           And immediately I see who’s waiting and I hate the thrill that bolts through me, and I wish that I had turned back.

           Baz’s face goes red when he sees me and I wonder briefly if I’ve seen him this angry before, so enraged that he turns colour.

           “What,” he seethes, “are you doing here?”

           “What am I doing here?” I spit back, my heart sinking and racing at once.  “What are you doing here?”

           “None of your business,” he growls, sitting on one of the desks and pointedly looking anywhere but at me.

           Everything in me is boiling.  I’m angry and I’m disappointed at once, but I puff up my pride and stalk over to another desk and sit down to wait.  Maybe the fates will be on my side for once and the mystery writer will reveal themselves yet.

           Although, would that be the fates with me or against me?  Because everything right now is looking like Baz wrote the note, and sitting here in the empty classroom full of paper hearts with him just a few desks away, it’s getting harder to ignore the buzzing under my skin and harder to ignore the fact that he is the common denominator.

           The clock ticks away like a drumbeat and I stare at the door, hoping, praying for something to happen.

           “Why are you here?”

           I throw a glance over at Baz, who has turned his head so that he can see me without looking at me.  “If you must know,” I reply sharply, “I’m waiting for someone.”

           “Really?”

           “You think I’m lying?”

           “I think you’re pathetic.”

           I have to squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten like Penny told me before I can breathe evenly again.  “What’s your excuse, Basil?” I grit through my teeth. “Why do you have to be here?  Has no one invited you across the threshold?” It’s a lame dig, but I know it will be effective, whether he shows it or not.  If there’s anything I’ve learned from being his enemy it’s that vampire jokes are a no-no.

           “I told you, it’s none of your business.”

           “Can’t you take your business elsewhere, then?”

           “No.”

           “Arse.”

           “Prat.”

           When I turn to throw another insult at him, the sun through the window catches the side of his face and turns his eyes to silver… and the insult dies in my throat.

           Beautiful.

           I try to stomp on the thought.  No.

           But it’s too late.  

           It’s there.  It’s taken root.

           And the longer I look at him the more it flowers.

           Another thought bubbles up to the surface almost tentatively.  Are you sure it wasn’t him?

           As much as I know I should try to extinguish that notion along with the previous, I let it linger.  If I think back on it, I don’t think I ever have seen him angry enough to turn red.

           So maybe he’s not angry.  

           Maybe it’s something else.

           When he meets my eye, I’m still staring at him, and his gaze darts away again, but his cheeks.

           They go pink, and there’s no anger in his eyes.  Only uncertainty.

           His silver eyes.

           And all at once, I decide to change everything.

Baz

“Alright, Baz,” comes Simon’s soft voice, “you can drop the act.”

           I turn to look at him again, and it’s like looking at the sun because I can feel his image scorching onto my retinas.  Meeting Simon Snow’s gaze is something that can only be done in doses, for me at least, I don’t know why.

           Well, I know why, but I can’t logically explain it.

           “Act?” I repeat dumbly.

           He slides off the desk and takes a slow step in my direction, and even that is enough to set my heart hammering.  “Yes,” he says, “act.”

           “I don’t know what -”

           “I think you do,” he interrupts me, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pauses for a breath, like he’s second-guessing himself, but then he meets my eyes again.  “I think you wrote the notes.”

           My brain screeches to a halt and nothing makes sense.  “Notes,” I reply, and I hate myself because the boy I’m head-over-heels for is actually not at my throat and I sound like a parrot.

           He seems to get a burst of confidence.  “It’s okay, Baz,” he goes on, still slowly advancing, “I don’t mind, but you could have just said something.”

           I have nowhere to go.  I want to leap up from my spot and run, but I can’t.  Even in all this, my pride wins.  I’m on a desk in the middle of an empty classroom, and I’m cornered.  “Said something,” I stammer, “about what?”

           He shrugs, right in front of me now.  “Anything from any of the notes, which were unbelievably mushy, by the way. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

           “Hang on,” I stop him, unable to keep from shrinking back.  “You’ve been getting notes?”

           “All week,” he grins, “though I didn’t realize it was you until I got here.  I have to say, that last one was weak poetry. I mean, ‘roses are red, violets are blue’?”

           Something in my brain clicks and I swear I hear a ding.  “‘Meet me in Room 172’,” I finish with a sinking feeling.

           His face lights up like all the stars in the sky are in his eyes.  “I knew it was you,” he murmurs, and – Crowley – his gaze flickers to my mouth, no more than a foot away.

           And I want it.  I want to keep quiet and let him close the distance.  Hell, I want to do it myself.

           But I reach into my pocket and pull out the scrap of paper from inside.  “Then I hate to tell you this, Snow,” I say quietly, my heart breaking, “but I didn’t do it.”

           He looks away from my eyes for the first time and his brow scrunches up when he sees the note in my hand.  He takes it from me and unfolds it, his eyes scanning over the words again and again, the same little three-line poem.  I watch as he checks his pockets, finding an identical note in his jeans, and the penny drops.

           “It wasn’t you,” he says, almost to himself, and his face falls.

           “I’ve been getting anonymous notes all week, too,” I confess.  “It’s a trick on both of us.”

           His hands are shaking.  “Why would anyone do this?” he asks quietly, his face reddening, and I can’t tell whether it’s with embarrassment or anger or sadness, or all of the above.

           “I don’t know,” I stand at last and saunter over to lean against the wall, grateful for some air that isn’t charged with proximity.  “People are dicks, I guess.”

           “And you swear that you had nothing to do with it?”  He won’t look at me at all now.

           “I swear.”

           He squeezes his eyes shut and I half expect tears to appear on his cheeks, but he just nods once and turns to march towards the door.

           An image flashes through my brain, of his eyes boring into mine, of how they flickered down to my flustered mouth.

           And suddenly I decide that I’ve had enough of this.

           “Simon.”

           He stops dead in his tracks.  “What?” he says without looking at me.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “What for?  You said you didn’t do anything.”  His voice sounds sore, like he is fighting tears after all.

           “I’m sorry that you thought it was me,” I tell him, “because…” I trail off, unsure how to finish.

           “Because what?”

           I wish he would look at me.  “I hate to ask, but did you mean any of that?”

           “About not minding if it was you?”  He sighs like he’s given up.  “Yes. I meant all of it.”

           He meant all of it.  From the words to the glance at my lips.  All of it.

           He shoots me a red-faced glare at my silence.  “Happy?”

           I stare back, and I can feel a big stupid grin bubbling up.  “Yes, actually.”

           That catches him off-guard.  “Why?”

           “Because I wouldn’t mind if it was you, either,” I blurt out before I can lose my nerve.

           His eyebrows finally un-furrow and he meets my eyes properly.  I know that I’m turning pink again, but as he starts to step towards me, I hold his gaze.

           When he’s right in front of me again, close enough that I have to look down to see him, he whispers “You mean…”

           One of the paper hearts littering the room suddenly jumps up off a desk, and I don’t know if they’ve been charmed to target fools in love or not, but it starts to dance around my head.

           Simon chuckles at the heart.  “Is that a yes?”

           I allow myself a tempered version of the big stupid grin.  “You could say that.”

           The heart swoops in front of my eyes, and I lazily wave it away.

           Simon stands on tiptoe and plucks the heart from the air by my eyes, and we’re no further than a breath apart.

           And then he leans in the rest of the way.

Agatha

Penny squeezes my hand hard when they finally fall together, and I squeeze back.  Stealthily she snaps a silent photo on her phone, and I make a mental note to get her to send it to me later.  The fruits of our labours.

           We step back from the open door of Room 172 as quietly as we can, but I doubt we need to worry.  Simon and Baz are both far too occupied to notice us.

           Penny keeps hold of my hand as we make a break for it, waiting until we’re around several corners before speaking.

           “Damn,” she grins at me, “we are good.”

           All I can do is grin back, still holding her hand as we stroll down the hallway, kicking up clouds of red paper hearts.

“Seventeen Days” (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Fantasy/College AU)

Summary: An angel from heaven is sent back to Earth to prevent college senior Bucky Barnes from ending his life. But here’s the catch - she only has seventeen days to do it.

notes: there is mentioning of potential suicide. i promise nothing jarring and explicit.

A/N: as of now, this is looking like a fantasy-comedy with a few serious moments in between. i’m nervous about this one, but i might as well have fun with it! -j. x

“Seventeen Days” (Masterlist)

It’s a startling feeling to be pulled out of heaven without warning.

You had been relaxing with a drink, basking in the pure musical renditions of an angel who had been a harpist on Earth, when you felt yourself being sucked away in a swift and weightless manner. Within a quick second, your drink is gone, and you find yourself sitting on a comfortable mahogany chair, face-to-face with the guardian of the gates.

“Oh my goodness, girl! It’s been forever since I’ve last seen you!” you squeal, excitedly clapping your hands together.

The guardian of the gates smirks and folds her hands together. “I know. Last time I saw you, you were hyperventilating about the possibility of going to hell,” she points out with a knowing look. “You were by far one of the most amusing freakouts I’ve witnessed in a long time.”

Memories of your judgment day flood into your brain, causing you to grimace. “Ooh, not my proudest moment. Let’s never bring it up again. Okay?”

“That I can’t guarantee,” the guardian muses. “Now, do you have an idea why you’re back here at the gates?”

Throwing your arms into a shrug, you dramatically recount, “Not too sure. I was enjoying the most delectable lemonade when I was suddenly pulled to here without any warning.”

“Shame about the lemonade.” The guardian snaps her fingers, and a fresh glass of lemonade materializes out of nowhere. She watches you with a fixed expression as you sip the tangy and sweet drink with gusto. “Now, may I begin?”

“Please do,” you nod, shooting her a grateful look.

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Why I Need You

Characters - Bucky Barnes, Reader, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Summary/Request - Yay! Could you write one with Bucky? He and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know how to tell the other. Maybe some commentary from the other Avengers? Little smut if you’re not opposed to it ;)

Word Count - 4,441

Warnings - Smut…Fingering, Unprotected sex… A little bit of language, little bit of angst..and of course some fluff
(If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - First ever Avengers/Marvel fic, so be gentle XD
Couple songs included are Think A Little Less, She thinks she needs me, and This Is Why I Need You
Huge thank you (again) to my sister Wren for helping edit! <3

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask!) - @theimpossibleg1rl​ @charliesxora@amantedelcalcio@hushothermuses@i-stole-rudolphs-nose​  @officialbroski10-blog@thepalaceofmelanie@serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes@buckyywiththegoodhair
(tagged a couple people who I know write Marvel..and have said people can tag them…I would love y’all’s input since it’s my first Marvel/Bucky fic)

Story:

Working with the Avengers was a challenge to say the least.
An enjoyable one, but still a challenge.

This was why Y/N had opted to keep her apartment in the city. So she could have a safe, familiar place to escape to when things got just too… heroically crazy.

It was rare that she would stay at the Tower over night, but Tony had a room set up for her anyway.
When nights like last night came around, she was glad to have a bed to sleep in rather than having to crash on the couch.


Just like every morning, Bucky and Steve had gotten up before everyone else in the Tower and had gone for a run. When they got back, they were a little surprised to see everyone still asleep. Each went to their separate room, to shower and get ready for the day before finding their way back to the kitchen.

Steve and Bucky settled onto the island stools, the former man looking to the latter. “So,” he began.

They had been silent their entire run, but now Steve had Bucky in his clutches…

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You and I, 你和我

Originally posted by sebaeked

→ Reader x Baekhyun

→ Fluffy, a little angsty, smutty, friends-to-lovers vampire AU

→ Warnings: Brief mentions of blood and rape. Smut.

Word count: 4,9K


Legend has it that there were six original families of vampires, whom all now living vampires originate from; the family of Kim is the most common kind with a normal thirst for blood. The family of Byun who exclusively drinks animal blood. The family of Zhang, who’s thirst for blood is humongous and almost unquenchable. The family of Do, a family who very rarely needs to feed. The family of Park is a kind that doesn’t limit their diet to only blood, but very often eats the organs and skin of the human they’re draining as well.

And so far, the mentioned families only have one difference: the diet. But the last family, the small family of Hūn Náo, is described as passionate, turbulent, restless and violent when their thirst is awakened. Hūn Náos have stronger senses and reflexes than the other kinds and their diet is limited to “bad blood”: the blood of extreme sinners. Because of their nature when exposed to the scent of the rare bad blood, the Hūn Náos became a feared kind, and further on, the kind turned shy and held back to avoid keeping the negative label. 

As a Hūn Náo, you always used to turn heads with your strong and sassy personality, and maybe it was exactly that which attracted Byun Baekhyun to you?


It was odd, you and everyone knew it - no, forget that; everyone would have thought so if they knew.

Yet, somehow it had come to be. Your relationship with Baekhyun, that is.

One day, as you were walking down the hallway of the school building, your whole body itching to return to your dorm, rip off your bra and exchange the short checkered skirt for a pair of nice, comfortable sweats pants, when a shoulder lightly bumped into yours. The owner of the shoulder was no passerby, rather, he was walking right beside you. Your schedule let you leave school earlier every Wednesday when most of the other student still had one class left, and because of that the hallway was not crowded at all, but somehow this boy still chose to walk so closely with you. 

So, you had looked over at him and scoffed. “Come closer.” Earning a surprised laugh from the boy, which at a closer, a more focused look was beautiful. He had dark, hooded eyes, a small pout and light brunette, tussled locks that gracefully fell over his cold forehead in a way you couldn’t quite describe. And then, he had had this rectangular grin to add onto his dazzling features.

A sniff of the air had surprised you, your stronger senses revealing the identity of his wonderful boy who found your sarcastic tone funny - a Byun. Along with the discovery came a clump in your stomach, and you swallowed, preparing to tell this Byun that you were a Hūn Náo and therefore probably not the best vampire to associate with. But just as you opened your mouth to tell him, your body tensing at the disgusted look you were sure you’d receive, the Byun had stuck his hand out into the air in front of you.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun, and you?” 

You had reluctantly taken his hand, your mouth open wide as you told him your name, quickly and awkwardly followed by;

“I’m a Hūn Náo, Baekhyun, you may not want to speak to me.”

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anonymous asked:

Hey! After reading your Andriel amusement park prompt, I was wondering if you could do some Neil whump? Where Neil gets sick, or injured, and andrew takes care of him? Cheesy, but soothing for my soul \(^_^~ thanks!!

Listen, Anon. Soft fluffy Andreil is what I live for! So please enjoy this sick Neil drabble featuring mother-hen-Nicky and the very real flu death experiences of @irishrainbownjh

It starts with a tickle. Right at the back of the throat. It grates with every swallow, and despite how many times he clears his throat, Neil can’t seem to shake the scratch. He pulls himself out of bed, has a long hot shower, and downs two glasses of water, but it’s still persistently there.

By the time Neil is halfway through his morning lecture, his head has started pounding as well. It’s a constant pressure behind his eyes that throbs in time to his heartbeat and cries out at the flash of each new slide. The scratch of a pen on paper to his right and the smack of gum to his left only make it worse.

When the class finally ends, Neil drags himself back to Fox Tower. His body feels both sluggish and sore, like he’s just run five miles then slept ten hours cramped up. Even the smallest movement sets his muscles aching and his joints creaking.

It takes considerable effort to make it up the hill to Fox Tower, so Neil opts for the elevator over the stairs. The doors open on the third floor to reveal the hallway bustling with a group from the soccer team. One of the players has an arm full of pizza boxes, and the greasy scent wafts down to Neil. It makes his stomach bubble and churn, and the striker braces himself against the wall and breathes through gritted teeth to get it to settle.

“Neil?”

Neil whips around at the sound of his name, but the fast movement causes lights to pop behind his eyes. It’s like a bad case of vertigo, his whole world tilting, and Neil stumbles back against the wall again. He blinks a few times, and when his eyes come back into focus, he finds Nicky’s concerned expression. It takes another moment to register that Nicky’s hands are gripping his elbows and holding him steady.

“Jesus, are you alright? You look awful.” Nicky raises his hand and presses it against Neil’s forehead. “And you’re burning up. Let’s get you inside.”

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Ass ID

Genre: smut, fluff.

Summary: Phil and dan run into each other at the grocery store and phil recognizes dan as his favorite pornstar via his ass

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: none that I can thinking of? Cursing?? As per usual. A small moment where phil thinks dan wants to stop?

Ass ID :

“Please, god please Phil, yes, you fuck me so good! Hmph, god love your cock, so good to me.”


4 hours earlier ;


“Cereal, milk, brea- oomph!” I stumble back and quickly grab the closest thing to me which happens to be a boy about my age, steadying us both. He looks familiar and I cock my head to the side, not so subtly checking him out, where do I know him from?

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking at where I was going.” He smiles, deep dimples digging into his cheeks and god, I know those dimples. Fuck, he’s so cute.

Without thinking, I stick my hand out, “Phil, sorry for running into you.” I feel my face heat up a little as he puts his hand in mine.

“Dan.” He turns around, spotting a loaf of bread on the floor behind him and bending down to grab it, and that’s when it clicks. If you had asked me two weeks ago, that’s I’d be recognizing my favorite porn star from his ass, I would have laughed in your face. But here I am, in the grocery store next to the star of all my wank fantasies, DanIsNotATop. Jesus Christ, only I could end up in this situation.

He straightens up and turns to me with a smirk, “Like what you see?”

I blush furiously, “I’m so sorry, this isn’t at all what I’m like, uh, I- nevermind, I’ll just be going now.” I quickly turn around and head in the opposite direction of the bread, great.

“Hey! Wait up!” I curse my luck as Dan catches up to walk next to me.

“Excuse me if this is forward, but you’re hot and I’m free all day.” I gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

The dimpled boy blushes, “Yeah, that was probably weird, I mean, we’re in the middle of a grocery store for god’s sake. Sorry, I’m a little too forward for my own good sometimes.” I’m so shellshocked that it seems my brain and mouth have stopped communicating and the words fall out of my mouth before I can think it through.

“Not surprising with your profession, I’m sure you gain a lot of confidence for that kind of stuff, what with everyone wanting to fuck you all the time.” My eyes almost pop out of their sockets, and I’m internally wishing for god to come and take me, for the ground to swallow me up, maybe even aliens abducting me would suffice. Of all the reactions, I do not expect Dan to start hysterically laughing.

“Oh my god! Well yeah I guess you’re right, aren’t you? So you watch me?” I nod dumbly, too surprised to even form words, probably a good thing at this point.

“Just have one question…when you say ‘everyone’ wants to fuck me, does that include you?” He’s looking up at me through thick, dark eyelashes and I’m swallowing before speaking up,

“Well, I mean, yes? Who wouldn’t wanna fuck you?” He giggles and I’m instantly endeared,

“There are a few people I can only hope don’t want to have sex with me, for example, my grandma.”

“Oh my god, Dan! That’s disgusting! Why is that the first example you think of?!” I let out a roaring laugh, my tongue poking out between my teeth and my hand coming up to cover my mouth.

When our laughter dies down he takes a step closer, getting into my personal space and whispering in my ear, “Offer still stands, if you aren’t secretly my grandma.”

I hum, “I guess I’ll just spend my night alone baking cookies then, too bad, I’d really thought this disguise would get me through.”

We giggle and I place my hand on his hip, traveling slowly to his back pocket and drawing out his phone before typing my number in, “Text me your number.” He does and I send him my address.

Leaning in till my lips brush against his ear as I begin to talk, breath hot and heavy, “7pm, don’t be late, princess.” I slip my tongue out to lick at the shell of his ear, watching goosebumps arise and feeling him shiver under my hands. I pull back, wink, and turn and walk towards the bread.


Current time ;


So that’s how I ended up in bed with the idol of my sexual delusions, being straddled by thick thighs, cock absolutely throbbing in my boxers. We had both already stripped to nothing but our boxers, or well, panties for dan. “Good god, Dan, you’re so hot for me, babe, gonna let me have you, yeah?” He nods eagerly into our kisss.

“Please, phil, touch me I want you to stretch me, please.”

“Mm, yes baby ‘course, c’mon let’s get you you out of those panties.” I flip us over, pulling off the black lace in one quick motion as dan lifts his hips up, before reaching for the lube lying next to me and popping the cap. Squirting a copious amount onto my fingers and warming it up between them, I kiss dan passionately distracting him from my hand wandering to his sex. I swirl my index finger around his rim before pushing in slowly, letting him adjust before thrusting it into him.

After a bit of stretching, I begin to search for his prostate, crooking my fingers at a different angle at every entrance to him, until I found it, well at least I think I do, since Dan lets out a series of pornstar moans (funnily enough) and pushed his ass back onto my fingers.

“Take me, I’m ready I promise, I swear it phil lease take me I’m begging you please!” Who could deny that? Certainly not me.

“I got you, baby, I’m gonna take real good care of you, don’t you worry.” I shed my briefs, grabbing the condom package next to me and ripping it open clumsily, about to roll it onto myself when dan’s hand comes up to catch my wrist, effectively halting my movements.

I look up, my eyebrows scrunching together. Did he want to stop? Before I can ask he shyly looks up at me, “Wanna do it.” I nod and hand over the condom, moving my hips closer to him so he can grasp my thickness, slowly pumping me before rolling the condom onto my shaft, grabbing the lube bottle, slathering it onto my length, and guiding my to his entrance. I push into the confining heat of him, groaning at the right grip, hovering over him, and breathing hot shallow breaths onto his sweat glistening neck.

“So good for me Dan, taking me so well, huh? Look at you, so nice. Such a pretty boy you are, princess.” A loud whimper escapes him, before he’s grinding back onto my cock.

“I’m good, I’m so good, you can move, move please please,” he rambles into my ear, pushing his onto into my hips, making my breathing stutter in pleasure. I pull out till only my cock head is inside him, before for slowly pushing back inside, watching his hole stretch so filthily around my thick rod, like I’ve daydreamed oh so many times before.

“So good on my cock, god, you’re so tight around me, fuck, dan shit,” I pull out, only to slam in a again and again, setting a hard and fast pace and angling my hips to slam into his prostate repeatedly, his legs wrapped tightly around my waist, face in the crook of my neck, fingernails absolutely tearing up my back, and groans falling shamelessly from both our mouths.

“Please, god please Phil, yes, you fuck me so good! Hmph, god love your cock, so good to me.” I can feel him tightening around my shaft, can physically feel him approaching orgasm, pushing me along as well. “C-close, phil, gonna cu-cum.”
I reach between us to fist his swollen cock, alerting him to my similar state, I’m losing pattern, heat pooling in my abdomen, before I feel Dan clench around me so fucking tight, my hips stutter and I can hear dan yelling his release as I spill into the condom, thrusting shallowly to ride out our orgasms.

“So fucking good, better than I ever imagined.” Dan giggles breathlessly, swatting my slick chest playfully as I gently pull out of him, careful not to hurt him, tie off the condom, tossing it into the bin, and falling onto my back beside dan. Our breathing synchronizes, sweat and cum drying uncomfortably on our naked bodies, and yet dan rolling over onto my chest, curling into my side, his arm draped around my midsection.

“This ok? I don’t usually get to like, uhm, cuddle? After sex I mean, so yeah sorry if this is weird, yeah.” I wrap my arm around him, holding him to my side when I feel him start to extract himself out of embarrassment.

“Shh, gonna sleep, yeah? S’nice. You’re warm.” And something feels right, as dan shifts to get more comfortable and then lays his head on my chest, his hair tickling my chin, legs tangled with my own. Something feels right, and I have a little feeling this won’t be the last time I find myself with an armful of tan skin and warm brown eyes.

Kalopsia (M)

» the belief that things appear more beautiful than they are.

Summary: Jungkook’s a photographer who has a knack for finding the beauty in the simple things.
Word Count: 10,623
Genre: Photographer!Jungkook + angst/smut/fluff 
Warnings: Mentions of death 
A/N: Based on this song. This is incredibly long, and I’m sorry.

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