okay will stop blabbering

No Regrets (Part 10 - Final)

Summary: When the reader finally coughs up the courage to ask Bucky out, it turns out, he’s not that interested. Or is he?

CATCH UP: No Regrets Masterlist

A/N: On a fresh wave of confidence in my smut, there’s a little smutty finish to my first Bucky series. Because, you know, Bucky might be old fashioned, but some things never change…

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Light smut and swearing.

Originally posted by hopevandyne

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and escorted you towards the lift. You could feel his fingers tapping on your coat nervously.

‘Impatient?’ You smirked at him. He bit the inside of his cheek as shook his head.

‘Now… behave, little girl…’ he murmured. You straightened up, grabbed his arm and squeezed it closer around your waist.

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Sexy, Young Thing

This is a little Rossi x reader written for one wonderful anon out there where Rossi falls in love with you, a young, sexy agent and he struggles with it and stuff. I hope everybody enjoys it! :)

Originally posted by calum-hood-is-bae

Rossi had to look away when you smiled, as if blinded by the sun. His rugged eyes were dim and expressionless compared to the violent bursts of emotions hanging underneath the elegant arches of your brows. He softened after a moment, recovering from the slandering sight of your beauty before he himself smiled, “Did the sun just come up or was that your smile?” He laughed, watching as you blushed at his playful flirting.

“You’re such a flirt, Rossi,” You laughed. He watched the way your eyes crinkled in genuine joy, with awe, adoration, “Alright, let’s get back to work,”

And just like that, you shut down the whole thing, breaking away from your older coworker’s flirting with nothing more than a second glance, leaving Rossi wanting for so much more, blending another scar into the fragile shell of his heart by walking away. If you only knew that Rossi’s compliments were so much more than genuine…

Intelligent, rich, wealthy, Italian, and old. Four things that Rossi frequently used to describe himself, utilizing the final word rather reluctantly.  And that final word was exactly the reason Rossi found himself guilt-ridden as he yearned for you. This wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t supposed to have these feelings, they were “impure” as Rossi found himself putting it. Impure, and indecisive, and soul-capturing, trapping. Those thoughts, were exactly why Rossi found himself staring, completely distracted, out a minimized window of a conference room into the jungle of cops and detectives where you stood in the epicenter.

“Something up with you, Dave?” Hotch asked, peering over a folder

“What?” Rossi grunted, pulled to attention, unslacking his spine as his eyes awkwardly met Hotch’s before turning down to a file resting on the table in front of him, “I’m fine,”

Hotch looked at him skeptically, debating whether or not to push the clumsily unanswered further before becoming distracted by the silence of the room and the folder in his hand. It took Rossi nearly ten minutes before getting distracted again. His eyes trailed once again to the window, finding the faint outline of your silhouette masked against the profile of a ring of cops, questioning her job and definitely flirting as well. Rossi felt his lungs burn with fire that used his veins as racetracks.

Hotch called to him again, but the whole world was on mute to the older man, “Gonna go look into a lead,” He grumbled, shaking his jacket over his shoulders and hastening out of the cramped room.

Rossi was unsure as to exactly where he was going. He didn’t have any particular place in mind and the whole “lead excuse” was a complete lie. He just needed to clear his head, needed to shake your desirable image from his head so he could actually work.

Rossi was definitely questioning how much longer could do this, how much longer he could delicately bottle everything up inside. Something was going to have to change.

None of the team had gone off to find Rossi, something you found particularly odd. The older man had seemed noticeably distracted lately, and you cared about him. He was sweet and caring and loyal, intelligent, funny, and so much more. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a fairly gargantuan crush on the man. So, you slipped away, quietly scurrying from the cops that had made sure to antiquate themselves with you upon your arrival. Rossi was more important than them.

Despite the time difference between you and him exiting the police station, you didn’t have to go too far to find him. Rossi had slumped himself over a nearby worn down bench, his fingers rubbing into his achingly racing temples, elbows on his knees. He didn’t even notice that you were there until you sat down next to him and the aged wood of the bench creaked loudly. Rossi could’ve sworn that the old bench was taunting his own ever-climbing age?

You studied him for a second. Rossi didn’t move, didn’t twitch, just sat there all indisposed, and unlikely, and so over-the-top stressed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly after several long minutes of suffering silence.

Rossi’s sharp intake of breath was his only answer for a moment before he straightened himslf, looking you in the eye. There was so much in that look of his, in the way his eyes glittered against the golden afternoon sunlight, that you were sure he was going to say something so passionately stirring and full of life, but within another moment Rossi was sighing and collapsing unto himself once again.

“Listen, Rossi,” You said, itching at the sleeve of your jacket, “I know this is far from the right time to ask you this, because the case has got us all wrapped up, and you’re obviously very stressed, and…” You stopped yourself from blabbering, “Okay, well, I just… I wondered if maybe you would want to go out to dinner after this case is over? Maybe like a date?”

Rossi’s head shot up at those words, eyes wide, “Did you just ask me out?”

“Maybe?” You shrugged sheepishly. Apparently it was your turn to be embarrassed.

“Y/n, I would love to,” His frown had evaporated, replaced by a joyful smile, “Are you sure? You’re not bothered by the fact that I’m older?”

“Duh, you’re David fuckin Rossi. Who wouldn’t want to date you!”

Okay, so maybe this right here was the highlight of Rossi’s entire life.

Will I See You Again? (Part 11)
Will I See You Again? (Part 10)

This is a continuation of Will I See You Again? which you can find HERE. 

Will I See You Again? (Part 2) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 3) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 4) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 5) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 6) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 7) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 8) is HERE

Will I See You Again? (Part 9) is HERE

Will I See You Again (Part 10) is HERE

Will I See You Again was originally just a one shot but I’ve made it into a long fic ;3

Hope you like it, jwalkerz ~

This is a short update, I’m sorrrrrry :c

-Admin Kitty

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One day, two days, three days, four. That’s how long it was until you heard him speak again. Again, he left you sweet text messages, but you wished he would just call.  You walked into the living room of your apartment and sat down, flicking through channels on the tv like there was no tomorrow. You sighed heavily: you were so sick of trash television all the time. “Did you two break up?” You heard someone mutter from behind you. You turned around quickly to find yourself met with Brooke’s fleeting glance in the kitchen before she looked away and back to the magazines on the kitchen counter.  Your eyes widened in shock: had she just…talked to you? It had been about a week since you’d argued and since then she hadn’t spoke to you once, until now. You tried to sound casual, you didn’t want to make a big deal about it incase she stopped talking to you all over again… “Um. No.” You replied quietly, getting up from the sofa and walking into the kitchen area. “Oh,” She glanced at you again, “Good.” It took you by surprise she was happy you were still together. There was a pause and then she said, not looking up from the magazines this time, “Stop looking sad then.” She picked up the magazine and pushed it towards your side of the counter, “There’s an article on Jay. I already read it like a week ago,” She said awkwardly, “You can have it. I know you like him too.” You could feel her tone becoming kinder as you spoke, so you smiled at her, “Thanks.” Fortunately, she returned the smile. You picked up the magazine and flicked through, trying to find the article, little did she know just how much you liked him… “Page twenty four.” She directed you to the page. As soon as your eyes fell on it, you froze. You didn’t know what you had been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been this. Everything slowed down as your eyes zoomed in on the image infront of you. You could hear Brooke talking in the background, “What’s wrong?” She was saying, but you couldn’t hear it over your heartbeat. Your hands shakily grasped the magazine out of her hands so you could take a closer look. The image contained Jay and the AOMG members…and one extra person. They were in a line, walking through a crowd of people you knew far too well. A crowd of people’s who’s hands you’d felt rake down your shirt and claw at your arms. Taking up the back of the line of AOMG members, was your boyfriend, Jay. His hands clutched the material of a black figure infront of him. The figure wore a black hoodie which they had pulled down over their eyes. The figure was…you. Pulling yourself away from the picture, you managed to focus on two more smaller pictures. One picture was of you, the figure, running out of the crowd down a street. The other one showed Jay, running down the same street, his hands balled up into fists, trying to find you. Your eyes narrowed in on the writing beneath that read, “Could this be a family member of Jay’s? A younger brother or sister? Or is this….a girlfriend?” Your hand reached up to cup your mouth and then you heard Brooke speaking again, “_____? What’s gotten into you?” “N-Nothing….I gotta…I gotta make a call…” You trailed off, pushing the magazine back towards Brooke and speed walking to your room. Did he know about this? You had to tell him.  You grabbed your phone and punched in his number, your heart thrumming as you waited for him to pick up. His voice, for once, didn’t calm you down, “Hey, baby? Can I call you back? I really have to-” He must have heard you whimper, because he stopped what he was saying and spoke much more softly, “Baby?” “J-Jay…I don’t know what to…” You tried again, fighting through your tears, “Jay…I was….What are we going to do…I…” “Woah, slow down ______. Okay?” His soothing voice said. You stopped talking and let out a long slow breath, as best you could, “Jay…Something’s happened….” “______, can this wait? I really, really have to-” “No!” You wailed, “I need to…tell you…I don’t…Jay, don’t leave. Don’t go…please…” He stopped you from blabbering, “Okay. It’s okay…” “Don’t go…” “I won’t, okay? Hey, I’m here. It’s fine. I’m not going anywhere, baby.” “Okay…” You stuttered, breathing you through your tears. Once you had calmed down a little, you spoke quickly and quietly, “There was an article in a magazine about you-” He stopped you, sighing, “I know.” “No! You don’t….They saw us together, they saw us Jay! There’s all these pictures…” “I know, baby. I know.” He sounded stressed. “Wait…What?” You suddenly felt confused…What did he know? “I was going to tell you…” “You…knew?” He sounded apologetic, “I kept going to tell you, but there was hardly any time. And when there was time, I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted to spend time with you…” “How long have you known?” You squeaked. He sighed, “Since I got on the plane. The truth is, when I left we actually went a day early. I knew the press had pictures so me and Gray went up to their HQ to try and sort it out and stop them from posting the pictures. But we only made it worse…It’s been in magazines for days.” “Why….Why didn’t you tell me?” “I would have told you straight away when I found you on the pavement, but you were so shaken up…” “You knew all this time…” You were close to tears. “I’m so sorry, _____.” “It’s okay…I just…What are we going to do?” “The good news is, they haven’t seen your face and they have no idea if you’re a boy or a girl. So, they might just forget about this.” “Might?” “Baby…Sometimes the media forgets about stuff like this, if other scandals happen or something. But…sometimes they don’t.” ———————————————————————————————————————————————— “So she knows?” Hep asked me. I nodded, “She’s cut up, man.” He let out a big breath, “Maybe you should go home…” “Home?” My eyes widened quickly…Home? “Listen, Jay…All your sets will be done by tomorrow and I know you were gonna stay on to support us and do some extra gigs but…it’s probably not helping _____ knowing that her boyfriend is like, a billion miles away on top of the magazine thing.” I nodded, mulling it over slowly in my head. “That’s what this is about!” Loco burst into the hotel room, shouting, “Man, what the hell!” “Huh?” I stared at him, bewildered by his sudden rage. “You have a girlfriend! You have a girlfriend, and you didn’t think you should mention that?!”
Hep walked over to him, “Woah, back off man….Seriously, what’s up with you?” “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, we’re keeping it quiet…” I tried to be apologetic, but he was having none of it. “Tell me sooner? How about if you didn’t tell me at all! How about if you didn’t have one at all!” He screamed in my face. “What?” “Did you not think about consulting us guys first before you just swanned off with some girl?” “Dude, no offence, but I didn’t think it was really any of your business…” Now I felt a little irritated. Who did he think he was? “None of my business?! Jay have you even thought about what this is going to do to our image when our main guy is all tied down with some slut-” I didn’t know when it had happened, but my fist had collided with his face, “Slut? She isn’t just some slut!” “She really isn’t, Loco. Seriously, she’s pretty cool."  Loco blew up still, "What makes this girl so great? Is she amazing enough for you to throw your whole career away on, Jay? Well? Is she?” Through gritted teeth, I said, “This isn’t going to end my career.” “No. Maybe not. In fact, I couldn’t give a fuck about your career because when you got with her you clearly didn’t give a fuck about what it would do to our careers too-” “Oh, I don’t give a fuck? I’m staying on for another two weeks just to help you out!” I screamed back at him now, anger building inside of me. “Well what the hell does it matter when you’ve not even thought about how this affects us too! We could lose fans because of this!” “Well then they aren’t very good fans.” I muttered. “Who gives a fuck, Jay? Fans are fans!” I tried to calm myself down, I didn’t want to punch him again.
“You don’t even need a girlfriend! You could have any girl you wanted to every night, no strings attached but instead your wasting your time on this girl-” “It’s not like that!” I shouted at him. “It’s not like what?” “I’m not using her, man. I love her.” I spoke calmly, collecting myself. “Fuck man, a girl looks your way and now your saying your in love?” He shook his head and walked out, slamming the door behind him. ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– He called in the middle of the night. Twenty minutes past midnight in advance. You answered the call, expecting to find his usual happy greeting, but instead he sounded exhausted and quiet. “I miss you."  It was quiet but you heard him. You let out a small smile, "I miss you too, Jay.” “I wanna go home.” He sounded sad. “What?” “I miss you baby…"  "What’s this about, Jay?” He spoke even quieter, “Nothing. I just…don’t want to be here.” “Why, hun?” “Because I want to be with you…” You let a laugh fall from your lips, “Come on, Jay, you’ve been fine this whole week and now suddenly you miss me so much you have to come home?” There was a pause, then he spoke, “I had a fight with Loco, ” You heard his serious tone finish and you could almost hear his smile as he said, “I do really miss you, though.” You giggled, “See? I knew it wasn’t about me.” “It is…partly.” “Hmm?” “We were fighting because-” “Wait, a real fight? Are you hurt?” He chuckled, “No. Not that sort of fight…Although, I did punch him.” “Jay…what’s going on?” He turned serious again, “He’s angry about you.” “He’s mad at me?” You squeaked. It seemed so ridiculous - you hadn’t even met. “No…Not at you. At me. For dating you.” “Why?” “He thinks it’s bad for our image…that it might…ruin his career or something.” “Do you think it will?” He chuckled, “No. He’s just being an idiot…He’ll get over it. It’s fine.” “If it’s fine, then why did you punch him?” “I was mad. He called you a slut.” “Oh…” He laughed, “Don’t worry…I don’t think you’re a slut.” You smiled, “So…sounds like you had an eventful day.” “Yeah. I still want to come home though.” “Jay…Please don’t come back just for me.” “Baby, I want to….” He sounded whiny now. You sighed, “Atleast sleep on it then? And check it’s okay with everyone? For me~” “Okay,” He chuckled, “Gawd, anyone would think you don’t want me back.” —————————————————————————————————————————————- The next night, he called at midnight again. You picked up, biting your lip. “Guess what?” He sounded excited. “What?” “I’m coming home, baby.” You smiled to yourself. He’s coming home…

How to have a better Instagram feed

If you don’t know what Instagram is then you must not be from around here… and from around here I mean Earth. Kidding… Just trying to make a point how popular Instagram is right now. Basically, Instagram is a lot like twitter. You follow people, you gain followers, you can flood the public timeline with your content but instead of words, you post photos.

“I already have Instagram so stop blabbering” yeah… okay but is your Instagram feed pretty? I know some people really don’t care but having a pretty Instagram feed really makes an impression to people who stalk you (heh) and it’s a nice way of expressing yourself too.

So this post is dedicated to prettifying that feed of yours. I know there are a lot of other “how tos” online but this is based on my personal experience. Also, Please do remember that “better” and “pretty” are very subjective ideas. ;)

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