sent glass shards or what ever it is all over the place

{PART 21} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Just when you thought your night couldn’t possibly become any more heartbreaking; the man you thought you knew turns out to be something you had only ever considered to exist within the realms of nightmares and folklore.

“Perhaps, he didn’t want to be understood, so much as he wanted to be loved. His truth would set her free, but the question remained; would she stay?”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 20} {Part 21} {Part 22}

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Cinderella - Jughead Jones

Request: Hi honey ! <3 I love all your imagines, you are such a good writer ! I was wondering, if you could write Juggy imagine, something like Cinderella story, where the reader is shy and clumsy girl, who doesn’t go out much often because of her stepmother and her daughters, but one night, with Veronica and Betty help (two fairygodmathers haha) she go to a school party, where she met Jughead, but when she was leaving in hurry, she left something, and Juggy is determined to find her ?

This was like, the cutest prompt I’ve ever read and I just had to do it! Let me know if you want a part 2 :)

Jughead x Reader + Beronica because I’m trash

Warnings: - Swearing / abusive step-family :c - if you deal with these kind of issues, please tell someone. Anyone. You deserve so much more <3 

Words: - 4,849


Cinderella, that was pretty much you in a nutshell.

You walked along the side of the hallway, lurking. You managed to pass through to the high school exit, unnoticed by anyone. Not that you were ever noticed. You could turn into a flying monkey and still no attention would be paid to you.

Not that you cared. You were a selfless girl, kind and virtuous. To everyone else you were the shy girl without friends, too perfect and studious to need anyone. Inside, you were longing for someone to talk too, because nothing and nobody in Riverdale is ever perfect. There’s always a layer of cracked stone hidden beneath the perfectly painted exterior.

The reason you didn’t have many friends was because you never really got out much, besides school. You weren’t used to much social interaction and all your spare time was spent in the library, doing your homework. You couldn’t do it at home, because you had to take care of your stepmother who would often come home high or drunk. Your stepsisters would blame you, and you would have to clean up all of the mess and damage that they left behind or your step-mother would beat you.

That was always another reason why you never let anyone know. You were too selfless and paranoid to make a fuss, you didn’t want people worrying over you or thinking that you were just seeking their attention. You had the bruises and the scars to prove your claims, but in your mind speaking out would just make everything worse.

Still, through all that you had bared, you wore a smile on your face and tried to stay positive. It was all for your Mother’s sake. She had died in a car accident when you were 9 and it had left you traumatised. Sadly you didn’t have much time to recover as your Father followed just 4 years later thanks to cancer. Your Mum always used to tell you to look on the bright side of life, to be kind and show love. All you wanted was to make her proud.


As you walked out into the parking lot to fetch your bike, you saw a group of people crowded around the racks engaged in conversation. You walked up to them gingerly, your body spiked with nerves. This was, as dubbed by Cheryl Blossom, the Sad Breakfast Club. You’d always admired them from afar. 

Archie Andrews was talented, in both music and sports. Betty Cooper was the typical girl next door, good grades and a strong mind. Kevin Keller was too fabulous for words, and you adored his confidence. Veronica Lodge was a powerful feminist, who stood up for herself, as well as standing up for her friends and fellow females. Then, there was Jughead Jones. You’d partnered up with him once in English class. He had a way with words, and you couldn’t help but ask him about his novel. His eyes had lit up with passion, a passion that didn’t die for the whole time the two of you conversed. His friends had been surprised at how talkative he was to you, how excited he was that you seemed to understand and respect his novel.

It felt great to finally have someone to talk to, about normal things. However, after that encounter you hadn’t really spoken to him, although he would sometimes acknowledge you with a small smile and a nod when you passed him in the hallway. You didn’t have the courage to interact with him more than you already did. Besides, you saw the look in his eyes. It was indescribable. The same look that clouded over your eyes daily, a look that nobody except those who possessed it would be able to see. The look of helplessness, that behind whatever perfect or basic exterior you had built up, was layered with secrets and scandal. You didn’t want to present yourself as another burden in his life when, without even talking to him properly, you could just tell he wasn’t going through the best of times.

You could hear that they were talking about Cheryl Blossom’s upcoming party. The party of the century. A masked party. Considering your status, you hadn’t received an invite so you weren’t going. The idea of taking on a whole new identity, the ability to let yourself loose without having to worry about how people saw you. It was thrilling, and sent anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. How you would love to confidently dance at a party, socialise, do things that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) just wouldn’t do… couldn’t do. For once, after all the things you gave to the world, maybe taking something in return and having your fifteen minutes of fame was all you needed. 

Your daydreaming meant that you hadn’t been paying precise attention to where you were walking, and found yourself stumbling over a collection of bikes which had been carelessly placed in the middle of the pavement as there was no more space on the bike racks. Your felt your cheeks tint red with embarrassment as you collected the spilled contents of your bag, which you had forgotten to close. It was cliche and awkward, and what made it worse was that the SBC was right in front of you watching. They got down to help you pick stuff up and you muttered your thanks to each of them, keeping your head down. You felt someone touch your arm, and naturally you immediately leapt onto your feet away from the contact, jerking the touch away from you. Your eyes were wide and your heart was thumping. You were so skittish thanks to past trauma, and you felt your cheeks get redder as you realised it had only been a reassuring gesture from Jughead.

He was staring at you, bewildered, as he slowly walked closer and gave you your pencil case, one of the items that had fallen from your bag.

“Are you okay? -” He paused, as if trying to remember your name, not that you’d ever told him. He probably expected you to just give it to him there and then but you wanted to escape the awkward confrontation as quickly as possible. You weren’t sure why because to be honest, you would always prefer to be anywhere in the world that wasn’t home. However, if you got home late, you would just be making it worse for yourself.

“Yes, thank you. All of you,” You put on that charming smile of yours, before pulling out your vintage bike, which you had salvaged from a local junkyard. You’d manage to acquire mint green spray paint and the materials to make a small woven basket for the front, and the result wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t exactly the flashy modern bikes that lit up when they move, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Finding the time to work for yourself was rewarding in its own sense.

You knew eyes were on you, something that you weren’t exactly used to, so you tried to get out of sight, as you rode down the street, as quickly as possible. You didn’t realise the curious spark mixed in with the helplessness in Jughead’s eyes, and you didn’t realise the suspicious glances that were exchanged between Betty and Veronica.


Home sweet home.

Home is where you feel safe, most wanted and most loved.

Your home was anything but sweet, and you felt like you were living in fear, that the hate your ‘family’ had for you was all you had going for your life.

You walked your bike up to the shed at the side of your house. It was infested with spiders and mice, and if your step-mother was in a particularly awful mood, the thickly coated, dusty floors would be your bed for the night. Lucifer, your step mother’s cat was perched on the door step. His name seemed appropriate considering his demonic demeanour and frequent attempts to claw your limbs out. His gaze followed you as you entered the house. 

Empty or smashed beer bottles clogged up the hallway, and you practically went en pointe to try and avoid the thick shards of glass that coated your path. You couldn’t hear the blaring noise of the TV, or the throwing of items coming from upstairs. This meant, it was one of those days where your stepmom went out the night before, drove to the next town over, got drunk and high and then proceeded to have a one night stand with some poor man. She wouldn’t be home until very late the following evening, and you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft sight of relief.


You had just gotten out of the shower, preparing to start on clearing up the glass when you heard the front door slam, followed by two whingey voices. Your step-sisters, Drew and Anna. Whereas your stepmom had physical abuse covered, your step-sisters preferred to hurt you verbally, to mock you and tease you, belittle you and reduce you to nothing but their own personal slave.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a screech from below your feet and you cringed inwardly, as you pulled on your comfort clothes. You knew you should have cleaned up first, but you just felt so stressed and uncomfortable from your fall earlier. Not that your own concerns were the priority in this household.

“(Y/N)!” Two simultaneous yells this time, sounding frustrated. The longer it took, the worse it would get, the more material they had to hurt you with. You hurriedly raced downstairs to their aid.

“Drew, Anna, how was your day?” You put on the nicest smile and sweetest voice you could muster. Anyone else would have snapped back at these sisters by this point, but you were an empathetic person and knew that deep down, these girls were suffering from their broken family just as much as you were. They just coped with it differently.

“Took you long enough, anyways, Cheryl invited us to her party and we need you to do our makeup like the… good sister that you are,” Anna gave a sickly sweet smirk. Your stepsisters had been sucking up to Cheryl for weeks in order to be invited to this party, and knew that you wouldn’t be going.

“She’s picking us up in her limo in about 2 hours, so hurry up. And don’t make further plans, you’re going to have to clean everything up before Mum gets home afterwards or she’ll kill you,” Drew snickered and Anna scoffed.

“Please Drew, we’re not that lucky.” The two sisters pushed past you, before walking up the stairs to their room. You felt your sensitivity levels topple over slightly, that remark was just a bit too far.


Somehow, you managed to slightly bond with your sisters over the makeup process. You tried things out on Drew, Anna would occasionally compliment how nice she looked and ask if you could do the same thing when it came to her. You almost felt like normal sisters. Until you were done. It could never last long could it? You just weren’t good enough.

Drew and Anna were wearing flamboyant dresses, with masks to matched. Their heels were higher than you thought was actually possible. As the two made their own final preparations, you were busy doing your own makeup and had laid out a pastel pink dress to wear. The dress was your mother’s, and you had managed to find it at the back of your closet from when you used to try and dress up in her clothes when you were younger. You wanted to go to this party. Why not? After all, you did everything for everyone else. For the first time, you deserved a little something back. Besides, you were sure Anna and Drew wouldn’t care, after all you had gotten on so well when you were doing their makeup. Well, better than usual at least. That had to mean something.

Cheryl wanted the party to be huge, so you were sure she wouldn’t mind if you tagged along with your sisters. It wasn’t as if you actually had any issues or rivalry with Cheryl, you just didn’t talk to her. You wouldn’t be surprised if your sisters had actually told people that they didn’t have any more siblings, and that you were just a loner only child.

You grabbed your ragged clutch, and made your way downstairs, after changing into the dress. You looked okay, but your mind was on the mask. You decided you were going to pick one up at the local costume shop on the way there, as you would travel on your bike rather than opting for the awkward journey in Cheryl’s limousine. 

You raced outside before Anna suddenly rushed up to you, shoving her iPhone into your hands.

“Ah! (Y/N) perfect, take a pic of me and Drew!” She exclaimed, before rushing back to Drew and posing, attempting to stick her chest out. You awkwardly tilted the camera to fit the both of them in it, before Anna raced back and snatched it off of you, flicking through the pictures you took. “Ugh this one’s blurry,” She muttered, as she paced back and forth.

“What are you wearing?” Drew bitterly scoffed as she circled you mockingly, like you were surrounded in shark infested waters. You suddenly felt intimidated as Anna’s attention snapped to you and she began to laugh and jeer at you.

“Goodness (Y/N), is that ugly piece of shit the best you could do?” She giggled uncontrollably and you felt tears crawl into your eyes.

“It was my mother’s” You whispered, not looking either of them in the eye.

“You keep dead people’s clothes? That’s weird, creepy, just like that Jughead kid,” Drew sighed, pulling on a loose lock of your hair. You jumped back from her and she rolled her eyes and scoffed at you.

“Wait… don’t tell me… that you thought you were coming to the party?” Anna stopped pacing, getting up close in your face and raising an eyebrow. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now.

“Well… I thought… m-maybe you would let me come with you? I just thought it was my turn to d-do something… for myself,” You stumbled clumsily, eyes trained to the ground. An awkward pause of silence skipped over you, before your stepsisters bursted into scathing hysterics. Pointing at you, taunting you. The tears freely flowed now. How could you be so stupid and naive to think somebody actually cared about you.

“You thought wrong you little bitch,” Anna’s voice sent chills down your spine as her tone turned menacing. She walked up to you, grabbed the frills of your dress and ripped them in two. You let out a strangled cry as Anna stepped back to admire her handy work. You fell to the ground, picking up the pieces that had come off of the dress and holding them close to your heart. You felt like Anna and Drew were destroying your whole world, taking it down brick by brick. When they learnt a weakness or a potential threat, they would eliminate it immediately.

You heard the clanging of metal, and turned your head to the left to see your bike which was being vandalised by Drew, who was madly hitting it with a large metal hammer. You crawled towards her, screaming at her to stop but Drew wouldn’t comply, not until the bike was damaged beyond repair.

One of the only things you’d ever been proud of, your spare time flushed down the drain in a matter of seconds. You stood up and bravely faced your two stepsisters in the eye, who were observing the surrounding chaos with satisfied looks on their faces. A black limo pulled up on your driveway, and the two walked off, only stopping when they heard you yell.

“Why me? Please! What did I ever do to you? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you, why do you hate me?!” Your voice was raw from the crying. The stepsisters looked back at each other, trying to come up with a response.

“Because you ruined our lives,” Anna spat at you, before grabbing Drew’s hand and pulling her away, leaving you to stand there and sob. Your knees collapsed beneath you with grief.


You sat in your bedroom, trying to collect yourself. Your mothers dress was placed under your sewing machine which you would have to fix later. You had managed to clean up the rest of the house which had helped in taking your mind off of the party momentarily. However, you now sat on the edge of your bed, reflecting on what could have been.

Maybe you should have reached out to someone, anyone who would listen. Like Jughead…

You just wished you had your own fairy godmother right now.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at your front door. This was strange, as nobody ever came to this house except the milkman and the postman. Your sisters were too embarrassed to share their address or invite anyone round, as you would likely be there. If it was your stepmom, she wouldn’t knock. She would barge in the door, yelling and shouting. 

Cautiously, you opened the front door, peeking out into the night. You were surprised to see two girls, two girls you recognised. Veronica Lodge and Betty  Cooper, who were both wearing matching black and white dresses, with perfect makeup and sympathetic smiles on their gorgeous faces. 

“We saw the bike, saw your sisters and put two and two together,” Veronica sighed. You bit your lip, not sure what to say, but Veronica had practically invited herself in and enveloped you in a hug, followed by Betty. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything, but we won’t sit here and let them get away with ruining your night,” Betty smiled, brandishing a box. Inside the box was a makeup bag, a pair of white embellished platform shoes, a black and white halter neck dress with black lace on the top, and the best parts, the accessories. A split down the middle, black and white mask. The white side was embezzled in sequins and feathers, whereas the black side was decorated with white swirls and fake flowers. Intricate floral patterns danced around the edges of both sides of the mask. On top of this all was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. A silver chain attached to what looked like a jewel encrusted ring, lined with a gold rim. More tears appeared in your eyes.

“Sorry if none of it’s really you, it’s all we had,” Veronica laughed nervously but you jumped on the two girls with another hug, except tighter.

“You didn’t have to do this, it’s all so beautiful….” You felt yourself choke on your words. 

“Honestly it’s-” Veronica began,

“Nothing” Betty finished, linking her arm with Veronica affectionately as they giggled at one another. 

“Don’t let these people ruin your fun, you gotta go out there and get your man!” Veronica beamed, resting her head on Betty’s shoulder as Betty nodded encouragingly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Betty and Veronica simultaneously rolled their eyes with a ‘tut tut’, exchanging glances.

“Jughead silly!” Betty spelt it out for you and you felt your face turn red all over again. “Yes! I knew it!” Betty exclaimed excitedly.

“I ship it!” Veronica and Betty squealed in a sing-song voice. You buried your face in your hands, but tried to laugh it off.

“I don’t even know if I can pull this stuff off guys. Honestly, it’s all so beautiful but it would probably look nicer on yo-” You began but the girls help up a finger in unison.

“Don’t even start with that crap. You are such a pretty, strong woman! You’ve been through all of this by yourself and you never even had to! You are going to own this party whether Cheryl Blossom gives a fuck or not,” Veronica retorted, and you grinned excitedly. 

The girls helped you redo your makeup, as you confided with them about your situation. It felt so good to get everything off your chest. They were so much more relatable than you expected and you honestly hoped that this wouldn’t be a one-off friendship. 

You were ready and dressed, hair done in a lace braid, necklace secured, feet comfy. All you needed now was to put your mask on. As you slipped it over your head, you felt a surge of confidence and power. This was finally your night, and you were going to earn it. 

“Look at what we’ve created Ronnie,” Betty danced around your room with Veronica excitedly. Your sisters had left to help set up the party earlier, so it’s not like you guys were even late yet, and the others were very excited. Suddenly, you felt the nerves rush back. What if they couldn’t get you in? If Anna and Drew knew you were there they would personally skin you alive. Veronica noticed you tense and she crouched beside you, resting her chin on your shoulder and sighing.

“In this mirror, I see a beautiful, young, independent woman who is currently discovering herself. You deserve this night (Y/N), it’s not enough just to dream these kind of things, you gotta finally step out of your comfort zone and live it up!” She shook you playfully and you laughed. This was your chance.


The ride had been fun, Ronnie had her own limo which she had managed to secure for the evening and you had picked up Kevin Keller on the way there, who played a huge part in settling your nerves with his gay humour. 

Veronica, being an influential person had also managed to get you into the party and you hadn’t even seen Anna and Drew so far.

Turns out that being anti-social for so long wasn’t a good trait to have in massive social events like parties where everyone knew each other and had plans for the evening. You felt out of place, and everything you dreamt of had faded. It was intimidating, all these masks practically trying to outshine each other. You lost your new friends in the sea of people and hadn’t found them since. You had managed to gain a lot of attention during the night though, which you were not used to. 

You currently stood pressed against the wall, drinking the non-spiked punch and avoiding the dance floor. Suddenly, you made eye contact with someone else pressed agains the wall. Probably someone that you would recognise in a festival crowd. No matter where you were you could pick him out. His crystal blue eyes and distinctive grey beanie which would not go off for any event. His raven haired curly locks which stood up at the back of his neck.

Your night (Y/N)

Feeling a surge of confidence, you kicked off of the wall and stood by him instead.

“Do I know you?” He asked almost instantly. Obviously everyone knew it was him from the beanie, and nobody would voluntarily come stand by him, it just wasn’t a thing people did.

“Not yet,” You let out a small chuckle, surprised at yourself. Your voice was deeper, perhaps even seductive. You sounded powerful but your stomach was whirling with butterflies as the boy gave a moment of silence to take you in.

“How mysterious,” He smirked back. Jughead’s mask covered a very thin surface area around his eyes, and was simply pitch black and made out of card.  He clearly tried very hard. “Student at Riverdale?”

“Are we playing a guessing game now?” 

“I guess,” You couldn’t really tell from the flashing strobe lights and intense atmosphere but you swore you could have saw him blushing.

“Yes, I am a student at Riverdale,” your heart thumped. There were obviously tons of students at Riverdale but you couldn’t help but get this overwhelming feeling that he knew it was you. Maybe Jughead felt the same way? You bit your lip, thinking about how you just wanted to be at a comfortable home with this boy right now. Like his house, because your house was simply hell.

This boy practically was your home, he made you feel safe and wanted. Although he didn’t even know this was you right now, you were just there for entertainment as he had nobody to speak to. If he knew who you really were, he would have left a long time ago. 

No (Y/N), your night! Have some faith in yourself!

“Have we talked before?” Jughead asked again, you paused deciding how you wanted to word this so that it was truthful but not too obvious.

“I expect so,” You played it off and you heard him grunt, causing you to let out another hearty chuckle.

God he loved that chuckle. It reminded him of (Y/N)

Hmm.. (Y/N)

Jughead looked up at the mysterious, elegant beauty behind the mask. He thought of (Y/N) and how suddenly an idea popped into his head. But she was so shy… it was just his biased mind because he had a cr- no, it was worth the ask.

Suddenly a slow song played over the speaker, and people paired off onto the dance floor. The two of you stayed against the wall until you were the only two left. You’d love to dance, but there wasn’t much space left and you wanted to dance freely with flowing motions. Jughead practically read your mind, as he bravely took your hand and lead you out onto a balcony, before placing his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around the back of his neck, leaning into him and taking in his gentle scent. 

You slowly moved side to side, resting against him, only properly moving when he would twirl you around gracefully. 

“Do we have classes together?” Jughead murmured. You nodded your head dazily and he chuckled at your sudden tired mood, spinning you again. He let out a hmm in mock thought, causing you to weakly giggle. “Have we been project partners before?” His voice got quieter and more gentle. You paused, the swaying slowing. “Yes” you whispered against his jacket, clutching it tightly in your hands.

From inside, you could hear the song coming to an end but undisturbed, the two of you continued to dance. A comfortable silence swept over you as he twirled you one last time before stopping, his mouth coming closer to your ear and you felt Jughead’s hot breath on your neck. 

“Do you like English class?” He whispered gently into your ear and you felt yourself tense. Suddenly the loud chiming of a clock from above you caused you to break apart with a jump. He didn’t make it obvious that he knew, but it was the skittishness that made it clear who his mystery girl was. Your heavy breathing, turned into breathy laughing with Jughead before suddenly your whole body went rigid and your face paled.

“What’s the time?” You whispered, your face struck with horror. 

“Midnight, that’s what the chimes are for,” Jughead moved closer, his hand reached up to cup your cheek but you stumbled back, your hand flying to clasp over your mouth. You were trying to hold back sobs of fright.

Your stepmom would be home. She would kill you if you weren’t there and you didn’t exactly mean figuratively. She would beat you until you’re bloody, skin you alive and then eat your flesh in front of your own rotting carcass. 

You muttered hurried apologies before racing towards the balcony door. You had to sneak back home somehow, you had to get away. This should have never have happened. People like you don’t deserve these special nights, these special people. Your heart was thumping out of your chest as the adrenalin pumped through your veins

You let out a yelp of pain as you realised your necklace was stuck in your hair. You ripped it out, not caring that it fell to the floor. You didn’t even bother to pick it up, kicking off you heels and chucking them at Veronica as you ran away from the dance floor, from the party, from the mansion… from Jughead.


“Got it,” Drew smirked nastily, as she hit the stop button on the recording of you. She’d filmed the last minute or so of your dance with Jughead and your sudden departure.

“Mom would totally believe she stole all of that crap, including the necklace. I mean she must have. There’s no way that street urchin can afford that shit,” Anna sighed, “Did she honestly think that someone like her would fit in here? We’ll show her,” She clicked her tongue in satisfaction, before dragging her sister with her out the door.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones snooping on conversations. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Jughead clasped the necklace in his right hand, Veronica and Betty standing angrily behind him. 


It’s 2am I’m so dead. This was kind of rushed, I’m so sorry <3

Let me know if you want part 2!
ALSSSOOO: thank you to @mrs-jughead-jones for being there whilst I wrote this and getting annoyed at Apple autocorrect with me.

@satanwithstardust helped approve the ideeaaa because she’s bae. 

Riverdale TAG LIST: @theselfishllama

I’ll Always Come Back

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Jerome Valeska x Reader

Forever Tag: @angelicshinigami @tothetardissterek (if you’d like to be added to this list, please notify me)

Prompt: “Ok but Jerome coming back to life and having to rescue his gf who is locked up in Arkham, cause when he died, she was crying over him and the cops took this chance to cuff her. He finds her tortured(like HQ in SS)and insane. He takes her back and When she recovers, maybe some smut can happen with dom!reader, which takes Jerome by surprise cause this is new. Hope this isn’t too long 😂” - Anon

Summary: The prompt says it all.

Word Count: 738 (I guess the 700s is the normal length now)

Warnings: Jerome’s death, torture, some angst, some semi-fluff.

A/N: I’m sorry but I felt going down the fluff road instead of the smut road for this imagine. I hope that was okay with you, Anon. Btw, the Arkham Asylum I was imagining here was the one in Batman: The Telltale Series.

Originally posted by rxven-clxw

Keep reading

a hand in the sand [m]

COUNT → 16.076

GENRE → smut

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → hand kink | pirates | chuck e. cheese | horses

i worked really hard on this all weekend you guys!!!!!! i hope it’s not too bad :-( let me know what you think!!!!!!! love you!!!!!!!!!! this was a special request from my bff @tinkerbeom so if anyone to blame its her fault!!!!!! :-)


Your nails dug into the wall, but lost your balance every few seconds from all the sweat in your palms. Jungkook was behind you, thrusting into you so fast that you couldn’t even ask yourself where you were. All you could think of was the word “dick” as it went through one ear, out the other, then did a little turn around your head and back inside your ear to repeat the process.

“That feel good, baby girl? Come on. Let me hear you.”

“It feels so goo—”

Keep reading

I Can’t Save Her: Part 29

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, a little Smut

Catch Up Here

Word Count: 1838

Summary: You have been with the Avengers for three years and during that time you have developed a close friendship with Bucky. When you discover another woman in Bucky’s room you begin to question what your true feelings are for him.

Author’s Notes: I hope you enjoy it <3

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

Originally posted by sensualkisses

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” Bucky soothed as he placed his hands around my own – calming my nervous fidgeting. I smiled at him sadly. I was about to open my mouth to speak when Steve and Fury strolled into the room with Tony following closely behind them. My head snapped in their direction as they sat in front of us. Bucky settled beside me – wrapping his arm securely around my shoulders.

Steve cleared his throat as he looked at me nervously. I could feel a surge of panic run through my limbs – whatever they had to say it wasn’t particularly good. “Y/N – Bucky,” he nodded his head to both of us.

“What the hell is going on Steve?” Bucky asked – attempting to keep his voice even. He was trying to stay calm for me, but I could feel the tension roll off of him in waves. Whatever was discussed today would impact him as much as it impacted me.

Steve turned to Fury who began to shuffle through the papers he held in his hands. “Ever since Y/N and Steve visited the abandoned H.Y.D.R.A. facility we have been combing through every bit of data they were able to extract. It has given us several very valuable leads on current H.Y.D.R.A. operations believe it or not, but more importantly it allowed me to get additional intel on Y/N’s parents,” Fury explained as he turned to face me. His one eye focusing directly on me.

“Like what?” I whispered. My nerves were getting the best of me. Bucky sensed my apprehension and tightened his fingers around my arm – bringing me closer to him.

“Like what is true and what is not,” Fury explained. “It seems like we’ve gotten quite a tale from our friends at H.Y.D.R.A. and they certainly had a motive for it.”

“So… did Bucky not?” I asked – stopping myself before finishing the sentence.

Fury sighed wearily as Bucky’s body stiffened beside me. “No – from the video surveillance, and the intel we pulled everything indicates that Barnes did kill your mother.” I could feel Bucky shift uncomfortably at this and my hand found his metal one and clasped on to it tightly. “But… we believe, given the information that we have uncovered, that Barnes was made to do it by one of his other handlers. They discovered that your mother had plans to try to secure his release so they used the easiest weapon to get rid of her – you,” he explained as he looked from me to Bucky.

“That makes sense,” Bucky agreed as he shook his head. “But why did she try to save me?” This had been the question I had had. Every agent of H.Y.D.R.A. I had ever encountered had been willing to die for their cause – to have someone who was entrusted with such an important asset to their overall cause betray them was huge.

“We don’t know,” Fury responded with a disappointed shake of his head. “What we do know is Y/N’s father is believed to still be alive.”

I choked at this – feeling like I couldn’t get air. “What do you mean still alive? The man… he told me that… he’s dead, Nick. He’s been dead for decades,” I muttered nervously. I felt dizzy from this news. It wasn’t possible for him to still be alive.

“We believe he is alive, but buried deeply within H.Y.D.R.A.’s ranks. It may be possible that most people within the organization believe him to be dead too,” Fury explained.

“Then how do you know he’s alive Nick? None of this makes any sense,” I added as I pushed off the couch and began to pace back and forth.

“Y/N – answer me honestly. How well do you remember your father?” Nick asked as he watched me.

“I mean I….” I stopped as I began to think. I had always had the idea of my father in my head, but when asked to actually materialize that idea for other people I realized I didn’t even remember what he looked like. “I… I don’t know,” I muttered miserably as I sat back down. Bucky wrapped his arm around me, concerned with my reaction, as I looked towards Nick unblinkingly.

“Y/N,” Bucky whispered gently as he brushed the hair from my face. “What is it doll?”

“I can’t remember anything,” I responded as I turned to look at him blankly. “I can remember an idea – the idea of a father. That’s all I can remember,” I continued – panic seeping into my words. “What the fuck did they do to me?” I cried out as I turned back to Fury.

“Steve mentioned that the man at the facility had eluded to H.Y.D.R.A. using the same type of memory control on you that they used on Bucky?” Nick asked, but I wasn’t listening. I had turned to Bucky and was silently conveying the horror going through my mind. “Y/N?” Fury asked – snapping my attention back to him.

“Yes he did,” I answered hollowly. “Is it possible that…”

“They programmed something in your mind much like they did Barnes? It is. At such a young age it wouldn’t have taken much to do it, because you wouldn’t have been able to resist like Bucky was able to. I believe that they have been allowing us to groom you – honing your skills, and that…” Nick stopped as I cut him off.

“This whole time it wasn’t about Bucky. It’s been about me. They used Bucky as a pawn – because they knew I would do anything for him,” I added miserably as I held my head in my hands. “What do they want with me?” I asked – looking up at Fury.

“We believe they want you,” he replied simply – reaffirming the growing since of dread I had had since the conversation began.

“It gets worse,” Tony said as he turned to look at me. “Remember the kid you choked out at the club, and punched at my party? His family has found out about your connections with H.Y.D.R.A. They are demanding that you return to New York City – they have filed assault charges against you, and well… they are threatening to release information to the media if you don’t. I’m sorry kid… I am… I tried my best to resolve it, but they have a full-hand and they are using it to their advantage.”

I sighed wearily as I scanned the room – taking in the expressions on my friends’ faces. “We can’t let them do that,” I muttered bitterly.

“Y/N – look we can get passed this,” Steve interjected, but I held up a hand to silence him.

“You can’t sacrifice your integrity… the integrity of the Avengers to protect me from the truth, Steve. I won’t allow it. This is my past – these are my mistakes. I’m done running from them,” I explained as I turned to look at Bucky. “No one is going to ever suffer again for me,” I added.

And with that the conversation ended. We agreed to leave Vienna in three days and head directly to New York City. No matter how adamant or strong-willed I was about the others not sacrificing themselves for me – I couldn’t help the gentle tremor of fear that ran through my limbs.


I turned at the sound of glass shattering to see Bucky’s bionic hand crushing the glass that had once held his scotch. “None of this is okay,” he muttered angrily as he looked at me. We had returned to our room after having dinner – Bucky had been on edge since our conversation with Steve and Tony. “They have no right to threaten you,” he added  as he let the shards of glass fall by the side of the bed that he was sitting on.

“Buck,” I whispered as I knelt between his legs. I placed my hands reassuringly on his thighs as I continued to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay – we will be okay,” I soothed as I nuzzled my head in the crook his neck. “Please. I need to spend the next three days with you. I don’t want to waste them being angry about the future or the past,” I whispered as I traced his collarbone with soft kisses. I needed him now maybe more than I ever had. I was terrified of having him ripped from my grasp once more. He sighed softly into my hair as I continued up his neck and jaw all the while my hands running softly up his thighs. When he couldn’t take it any longer he grasped me firmly by the waist and spun around – throwing me roughly on the bed. As he removed his clothes he never looked away from me – his face portraying a mixture of lust, loss, and fear.  He hurriedly removed my clothes and stood back – admiring me for a moment before bracing himself over me.

“I can’t,” he whispered on my neck as he kissed me gently.

“What Bucky?” I asked breathlessly.

“I can’t lose you again. God – I can’t lose you again. I won’t survive it,” he mumbled sadly against my neck as tears dripped from his eyes onto my skin.

“Listen to me,” I demanded as I brought his face to mine. “I’m not going anywhere James Buchanan Barnes. You’re stuck with me until the very end.” He smiled sadly as he brought his lips to mine. I twisted my fingers into his hair as I deepened the kiss. With one solid thrust he filled me with him – eliciting a soft moan from my lips. Our rhythm was fast – chaotic even – as we desperately sought to bury ourselves in one another. The sweetness and gentleness of the morning was long forgotten as our bodies said the things we forbade our lips to utter. Each bit of pain it caused was worth the pleasure. The swirl of emotions and sensations sent both of us over the edge together – Bucky’s body stiffening as he spilled into me. He kissed me lightly on the lips as he moved to lay by my side – gathering me in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear as his hand traced patterns on my back.

“I love you too,” I sighed as I closed my eyes. More than anything I wished that we could stay this way forever. That we didn’t have to face the things that were to come.


Before long Bucky’s breathing slowed as his grip on my arm relaxed. I moved carefully to keep from waking him as I climbed off the bed. With one final sigh I grabbed my robe – securing it snugly around me before leaving the room. There was one person I needed to speak with. One person that I knew could orchestrate the one thing I needed to happen. As I rounded the corner to the dark living room my eyes found Nick Fury.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered as he stretched wearily.

“Listen Nick,” I said as I sat across from him. “We need to talk about Bucky.”


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Shattered

Pairings: Dean x Reader
Words: 1,191
Warnings: Angst, violence
Summary: Dean is going through a breakdown, but reader is there to keep him sane 
A/N: I missed writing so badly, that I decided to take a break from studying and there we go: short story or should I say, a reimagination based on Brother’s Keeper. This scene is so powerful and makes my heart weak, so I decided to work on it and properly write it down. New chapters of the stories are coming when I’m finished with my finals. Hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is a priceless! 

Originally posted by acklesjensen

It was one of those days. The Mark of Cain was manifesting its presence in most terrible ways; toying with Dean’s emotions, thoughts and beliefs. Picking on his weak and doubtful self esteem.

He was standing in front of the sink, washing his hands, not really knowing why. They weren’t dirty, but they certainly felt this way, the weight of lives they took away was almost unbearable. The water was way too hot, a burning sensation on his skin. But he didn’t seem to be bothered at all. The high temperature, along with the noise of the running water served as a perfect distraction. Or at least the best one he could count on in that moment.
The memories were hidden in the dark corner of his mind, swept away by his coping mechanism, but threatening to surface without a warning at any time. He wouldn’t endure it. Those images, premonitions that were constantly haunting his dreams, became too much for him to handle. It was getting worse with every passing hour. Dean didn’t want to think about tomorrow, afraid what it may bring into his miserable existence. 

Then he made a mistake. He looked up in the mirror and met his own gaze. His emerald eyes, ever so livid and hopeful, were now hollow, lifeless and bloodshot. As if someone took his soul from him, dragging it out through his iris, making the colour fade away. One glance at this man could suggest that he’d lost his will to fight long time ago. And maybe it wasn’t so far from becoming true. 

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old CWU notes and outtakes Part I!

I thought I could fit all this into one post… haha. More to come! This stuff isn’t magical or fascinating so much as funny, so keep that in mind if you want to see the dark underbelly that is MADAM JEDI and other scrapped and rough content!!

~

From a doc beautifully entitled “Kylo Ren Master Notes, Updated 1-4-15” (one of about 10 CWU ‘master notes’ docs I kept throughout the year, behold my organization skills, including labeling this doc with the wrong year. This doc was 37 pages long! It picks up with notes on what became the second chapter of Life Sentence):

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Greek Gods AU || Part 1 || Yoongi

pt.1

Words: 1505

Genre: Greek gods AU, hella angst, some fluff

Summary: Easy is the descent to Lake Avernus; night and day the gate of gloomy Dis is open; but to retrace one’s steps, and escape to the upper air, this indeed is a task; this indeed is a toil. - Virgil


Jungkook’s bed in room 206 was lumpy. The duvet scratched against his pants leg, making sure to leave every spot of exposed skin chafed the following morning as he slept. Not that he was getting much sleep here. He rolled over on to his opposite side, watching as the flame flickered diligently atop the candle placed beside his bed.
He wasn’t supposed to have brought the candle into the hotel; he was sure there was a policy against open flames in the room. But he’d snuck it in anyway, only so he could fall asleep as the flame twitched beside him. He couldn’t smell it, even though the scent was supposed to remind him of rolling waves and the sun.

Jungkook rolled back over, this time away from the candle. He curled into himself, feeling tiny in the large queen sized bed as he curled smaller and smaller. He stared at the drawn curtains in his line of sight, trying to imagine the world passing by outside; he couldn’t. He could barely feel himself, laying in this bed. It was almost as if he didn’t exist at all.

Somewhere above his head, the soft sound of a piano was played.


Yoongi swung his sledgehammer, bringing the heavy end down into the awaiting window of an unsuspecting Mercedes. The glass exploding into a multitude of glittering shards, raining all over the plush leather seats. A small portion of the shards twinkled down onto Yoongi’s shoes, covering the black boots in pieces of a rainbow.

The car’s alarm started blaring half a second later, piercing the otherwise quiet suburban air with shrill, mechanic chirps. Yoongi glared at the contraption as if it was an annoying pest that had just dampened a few moments of his lazy Sunday afternoon. Turning, he broke into a light jog and flew away from the car before it could bring unwarranted attention to his presence.

Yoongi was angry, if the sledge hammer vs. car windows showed any sign of that. Once he’d jogged far enough away from the piercing screams of the Mercedes, he ready his sledgehammer for another swing. The red car bellowed loud moans as Yoongi’s weapon crashed into its front windshield, causing the whole pane to cave in, a large impression of the hammer’s face sent a web of blistering cracks out from the middle.

Yoongi smirked to himself, and began jogging again. He hit car after car, each time aiming for a different window than the last until the whole block was erupting in a cacophony of blaring, shrieking, moaning alarms.

In sounded to Yoongi like a sea of the souls of the damned.

He walked away from his realm in the suburb amongst the tormented cars, letting their screams follow him as his feet covered long strides of the cement. The sledgehammer, which had suddenly become quite heavy in his hands, was dragging behind him lifeless, a dog on a stiff leash. His pet scraped the cement, sending up a never-ending loop of scraping like nails on a chalkboard. The noise made Yoongi’s hair stand on end; blood pumped through his veins in an attempt to shrink away from the noise. He made no motion to stop it.

The sidewalk passed him on and on, the groveling of his sledgehammer the only thing keeping him company until he found himself standing in front of a dilapidated building. It was an ugly shaped stack of bricks and mortar; the neon sign’s flashing lights were out except for a few mismatched letters. The pink and yellow V, O, L whined, a dull buzzing like an insect. Yoongi walked under it and continued to the door. The glass was frosted as he pushed forward, making sure to dump his sledgehammer with great force into the empty umbrella holder by the rotting newspaper dispensers.

The front desk was empty, leaving no frowning face to watch Yoongi has he made his way up three flights of stairs and into his room. The door squealed like a mouse trapped in the jaws of a snake, in pain and on the verge of death.

Room 306, Yoongi was sure, was decorated like all the other rooms in the motel: complete with an uncomfortable piece of cardboard for a mattress and an uneven side table. Yoongi didn’t mind the un-comfort of the place; he really didn’t even mind the faint smell of mold that tinged the air and became trapped in his lungs. He was used to it within minutes of breathing.

He threw himself on the bed, the duvet rumpled around the left side of the bed, exposing the sheets like innards. He’d discarded various objects in the bed, and now he laid amongst them, closing his eyes and pretending he wasn’t breathing; he was an inanimate object like all the rest.

He unplugged his headphones from an old disc player, deciding that listening to music outloud would be more beneficial to his unbeing-ness that listening to it in his head; if it was all in his head instead of surround him, he’d be forced to dwell in the knowledge that he was, in fact, here. He didn’t want to be here.

In fact, Yoongi didn’t want to be anywhere. He never wanted to be anywhere ever again. Not after he’d been left hallow. Yoongi saw her brown eyes glittering at him now, and threw his arm over his eyes with a groan.

Spring may have been a happy time to all, but Yoongi felt cold as ice. She’d left him, and now he was wallowing in a sea of piss stained sheets and little orange pills. He pushed play on the disc player, feeling the classical music envelop him.

She’d loved listening to it, and she’d been the one that made him this disc, only days before they’d parted. During long afternoons when they were younger, Yoongi would play for her, not because he particularly wanted to play the piano for hours on end, but instead to see the magic that glittered in her eyes as the notes flitted around her.

Yoongi would play every afternoon away, and she would sit atop his piano, with her legs crossed, listening. He remembered his favorite afternoon, when her brown hair curled in a perfect, messy way around her face. A look of confusion furrowed her brows while she listened to him.

He didn’t say anything to her, instead just simply continued to play. It wasn’t a song he’d played for her before; in fact, he’d only just written the song the previous night. It was the story of how they met, of how they fell in love. Somewhere deep inside her eyes, Yoongi knew she was drawing the puzzle pieces together; she knew what the piano’s notes meant.

A look of bliss washed over her face, pulling her eyelids down heavy. She kept listening, her fingers stained red from the pomegranate she’d been eating. The afternoon sun had settled, and even though the window’s curtains were blown open, the setting was dark around her.

In that moment, Yoongi knew what love was.

In this moment, Yoongi knew how love was lost.

He’d met her swiftly, and falling for her was like falling inside a field of flowers: plush and dynamic. He’d smiled more than he could ever remember, and while the brown piano stayed faithfully in the corner of his room, she’d stayed faithfully in his heart. She was his first true love; he’d written that for her in a strung of notes played gallantly.

Now, though, she was gone. The flowers were blooming outside as winter went, but Yoongi had never felt more dead. He felt as though ice was eating through him, covering him layer by layer. Everything was coming alive outside his open window: everything except Yoongi.

She’d taken every bit of him when she left, and now he was forced to walk around alone, nothing to console him but the screams of car alarms.

The music in his disc player was building into a crescendo, and falling just as quickly. This was metaphoric, Yoongi was sure. A banana peel rotted beside him; a glass of stale liquor sat on his dresser. Yoongi stuck another capsule of orange into his mouth, swallowing it dry. It burned as it struggled on the path to his stomach.

Yoongi felt the end coming nearer for him, though try as he might it would never fully reach its destination. He’d wake up in the morning, cotton in his mouth and a pounding sadness in his head. He’d pushed and pushed and pushed, and she broke her promise. She didn’t stay with him until the end.

This spring would be the hardest of Yoongi’s life. You’re a bastard, he cursed himself. The whelps he mentally gave himself barely stung. He lifted his arm away from his face and glanced over at the window; he never closed the curtains. His face turned upwards, and the sun sank.

He looked at the sky, and he thought of her.

Oath | Ch.23.1 | Jungkook

Genre: Angst | Mafia!AU

Members: Jungkook | You/Reader | Yoongi | Taehyung | Namjoon | Hoseok | Jin | Jimin |

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

Originally posted by berry852

| Previous Chapter | Chapter List | Next Chapter |

Word count: 3,044

A/N: After a long long time, here it is~ I am sorry for the long wait, and thank you so much for your patience and understanding!!  I decided to cut this chapter into two parts so that I won’t keep you waiting even more (because it would have taken me a few more days to write everything). So here is part one of chapter 23. Hope you will enjoy it~ ^^ 

2 DAYS BEFORE THE INCIDENT

“What do you mean you lost them?! Are you fucking stupid?! You incompetent shits are good for nothing!”

“We are sorry, boss! He saw us coming.”

“Of course he did, you idiot! He’s been a member of the group ever since he was child, he knows how we do things. Don’t ever underestimate him, and cut it with the excuses, they make me sick!”

“What should we do now?”

“What should you do? You should go shoot yourself, you idiot! Bring them here!”

“Yes, sir!”

The sound of the phone hitting the hard wood of the desk covered Namjoon’s low growls. What he hated the most was people failing to do their job, and lately that was happening too often.

“These bastards…”

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The Pocket Watch

by reddit user The_Dalek_Emperor

When I was a child there was nothing to eat. I was the eldest of five and so it was my job to make sure that I always let my brothers and sisters eat before me. War was inching inward from the coast and as it marched closer, our food grew scarcer. Animals fled the area, or were slaughtered and consumed in panic by the other families in our village.

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stubborn ✵ theo raeken

request : hey my love! can you write something abt theo where the reader is always telling him to be careful because she doesn’t want to lose him but he’s a stubborn fuck and continues on recklessly until one day he ends up getting himself severely injured and the reader is the one that has to nurse him back to health but it turns out to be a slight blessing in disguise because they end up developing an even stronger bond because of it (this is cheesy but im just craving theo fluff ahh)

word count : 1.6k

 Theo had never had much regard for his own safety; effrontery and blatant recklessness were very much his forte, and it had been this way since the day you met him. You supposed you shouldn’t expect him to change the way he was, you would never expect him to change his very nature. Boldness was ingrained in his ever charming personality. Plus, even if you attempted to sway him over to the side of not almost killing himself every time he goes on a mission with the acclaimed McCall pack, you knew he wouldn’t listen for very long. He was a stubborn little shit, to put it bluntly. 

 Which was the norm, yes, but it was also the cause of many an argument. Case in point, today.

  “Theo, this is a suicide mission. Stop and think about that for a minute, will you? You know what suicide means, right?” You placed your hands on the cool tile of the kitchen island, Theo on the other side and a bit further back by the dining room table as he slipped on his dark jacket and smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt. When your words seemed to elicit no reply, you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m just talking to myself now, right?” 

   Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows at you, green eyes scrutinizing the agitated look on your face. He was quite analytical at times, able to deduce your mood or emotions from even minimal changes in your expression and body language. No one really knew of this small skill he had acquired, but it certainly came in handy. You were clearly upset with him, taut face and fidgety hands that indicated such. “I’m listening, babe, just not going to follow your advice.” 

   Harsh, maybe. Truthful, yes. He’d rather be harsh and honest that a sweet liar, at least when it came to you. You were probably the only person he would ever be completely honest with and bear his entire heart to. Even though the truthfulness could hurt at times. “Lovely to hear, Raeken. Honestly. I’m glad you don’t give a flying fuck about your wellbeing.” You scowled at him and turned your head away from him, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes that you quickly brushed away with the back of your hand. Theo winced at the sight, and hurriedly rushed out a list of a reasons as to why this mission was perfectly safe for a boy like him.

   “I’m a werewolf werecoyote hybrid. I’m a chimera, sweets. I heal quickly, I have enhanced reflexes, super strength, speed, and excellent hearing. I’m almost invincible, so what’s the point of not using my advantages in these supernatural fights? And I’m with a pack now, so that gives me a less likely chance of getting injured. I’ve got no reason to worry,” he readjusted his collar, walking up to the island and placing his hands over your own. He smiled softly at you, and it was the sweet smile that made you relinquish your anger at his stubborn personality. “I’ve got this, baby girl. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, I’ll come home to you in one piece like I always do.” 

   Theo leaned forward, hands still on yours, and kissed you. He let himself sink into the kiss for just a moment, savoring the feeling of your soft mouth against his and the slight tang of the berry chapstick you had a habit of wearing around him because he liked it so much. When he pulled away, he rest his forehead against yours and gave you another genuine grin- not the smirk he saved for other people or in the bedroom, his happy and in love smile with his lips spread wide and his eyes crinkling at the corners. He whispered an I love you before dropping your hand and leaving the house, leaving you almost, but not quite, reassured. You walked to the living room and pushed back the white curtain, watching Theo slide into the backseat of Stiles’ powder blue jeep chatting to the two boys that had once considered him an enemy, and now were his allies, possibly even his friends. You smiled as he leaned out the window, blowing you a kiss and winking flirtatiously before the car sped away down your street. 

   Out of nervous habit, you bit your hanging thumbnail the moment the car was no longer in sight. He’ll be fine, you thought to yourself. He’s always fine


    All right, you were panicking now. You had bitten off all of your nails, practically ripped out your hair multiple times, and were permanently stationed by the window at this point in the night. It had been six hours since he had left you with those soft eyes boring into your own that had promised you everything would be okay. You sent another text to him, then one to Scott, then another three to Stiles, then threw your phone at the wall when none of your messages would deliver. You heard it shatter and went over to pick it up, right when Scott’s name popped up on your lock screen. He was calling. 

   “Scotty? Is everything okay? What happened?” You demanded the moment you pressed answer, not allowing him a chance to speak first. 

    “We’re all pretty banged up but, um,” he paused, thinking of a way to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t cause you to flip out or have a full blown panic attack. “Theo is, too. More so than the rest of us. We’re dropping him off now, try not to freak out. He says it looks worse than it is. Open the door, he’s outside.” Scott held his breath, rolling down the passenger seat window and watching with his lower lip pulled between his teeth as the door of your house flung open. He hung up the phone when he saw the furious expression cross your face. 

   One hand on the door, the other clutching your broken phone in your hand so hard you could feel the shards of broken glass cutting into your palms just slightly. Theo offered a sheepish grin, leaning against the doorframe not in an effort to look sexy, but because he was beginning to feel quite dizzy with all this walking and standing. “Hey, angel,” he somewhat croaked, lifting his weakened hand in a lazy wave. His lip was split, blood trickling down his chin. He was bruised under both of his eyes, a gash on his forehead and another under his chin. His left hand was clutching his right arm, and his knuckles were utterly bruised and yet another part of him that was bleeding. 

   “Not as bad as it looks, I promise,” he mumbled, shuffling forward and into the house. He seemed to sway on his feet, his eyes fluttering open and closed as he tried to slide his shoes off by the doormat like you always insisted he do. “Mhm, can I- can I s-sit, I, I wanna sit- baby,” Theo stumbled forward, practically falling into your arms. Your anger at the boy, while not eviscerated completely, diminished a large amount when his arm fell lip at his side and he almost fainted. 

   “Okay, okay, walk with me to the couch,” you murmured, lifting him under his arms and gently leading him to the seat, careful not to put pressure anywhere that seemed to be in pain. He collapsed into the cushions with a grunt, his hand running over the right side of his body. You slid to your knees, shaking your head at Theo as you took the end of his shirt and pushed it up so you could see the amount of bruising done to this part of him, too. “Oh, baby, why do you do this to yourself?” You sighed, your hand trailing up his cheek and brushing back his hair. You stroked his hair lightly, watching his breathing regulate and his chest rise and fall steadily. He looked up at you, his good hand reaching to grab hold of your wrist and began stroking it with his thumb. 

   “My girl,” his lips curved up at the corners but he didn’t open his eyes. “You’re always right, aren’t you? Should’ve listened, hurts everywhere. I’m sorry.” His eyes flickered open again, just briefly. 

   “It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead even though it was shining with sweat. His body was working overtime to heal itself; the extent of his injures was more than he was used to, making it all the more difficult to make himself right again. “How can I help you? Do you want anything?” Green eyes finally blinked up at you, tired but loving. He moved his hand to your waist and tried to pull you onto the couch with him. There wasn’t enough room, though, so he settled for just wrapping both arms around you and having you on top of him, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His new stubble scratched at the soft skin, but you didn’t care. 

   “Stay here with me,” he said, running his hands up your sides before letting one rest on your hip and the other buried in your hair. “You have soft hair. My beautiful love. I love you.” 

    “And I love you.” You pressed a hand to his cheek again, taking a deep breath before saying, “even though you’re a stubborn fuck.” His laugh practically shook your entire body, and he had never been more glad to have someone in his life than he was right now, hugging you to his chest and taking in the scent of you (despite being battered and bruised by his own sheer recklessness and, as you so eloquently put it, stubborn fuck-ness.) He was simply, utterly glad to have someone to take care of him after his years of being alone. 

Changing Wings

Cas One Week Writers Challenge: @deanwinchester-af @sis-tafics

Prompt: Not a Typical Sunday

Word Count 3123

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Tags: Soulmate AU - Kinda, I twisted it. You’ll see. Reader injury.

First of all, can I say wow. Thank you all so much for your support! It’s making my day to jump online and see all the likes and reblogs so thank you all so much!! Secondly thanks @deanwinchester-af and @sis-tafics ’ for running another prompt week. I’ve had an absolute blast, and can’t wait for the next one to roll around. Are we going with Sam or Crowley next time? ;P

Also, this one ran kinda long, and I forced myself to stop. If you want more/ a continuation lemme know? Thanks!

You groaned, raising your hand to your face. Letting it drop when you felt the warm trickle of blood hit your fingertips. You knew you were rusty, but not quite this bad. Sam’s face swimming in front of yours as he knelt beside you. Dean’s shoulder in your spine. Propping you up. You were aware Sam was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear him. Unable to read his lips as he spoke. Your head swam, and your vision faded to black.

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Winter Is Coming (One-Shot)

Originally posted by sophie-in-the-tardis

Request: Hey can you please do something like Bucky is in soldier mode and reader is the only one to bring him out of it after some struggle. Requested by @rayraylovesbuckybarnes 

Warnings: violence, smut, swearing

Word count:


You and Bucky had been going out for almost a year now, and things couldn’t be better. He was the most overprotective boyfriend you had ever had, but you weren’t complaining. Men had to literally ask him if they could talk to you. Sometimes it’d get annoying, and you’d be pissed off for a while but after him following you around like a lost puppy you’d always forgive him.

He was so sweet, and when he smiled you could hear angels singing. He was adorable towards you, so loving and caring, and he was a key member of the Avengers. But, everyone has a dark side. His dark side just happened to be an ex-brainwashed deadly assassin who turned out to be Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend who was presumed dead for 70 years.

His dark side was The Winter Soldier.

Luckily, he hadn’t made a grand appearance since you started dating Bucky. On missions, as much as you hated to admit it, a part of your mind was always scared he’d somehow become the Soldier, especially when Hydra was involved. Unfortunately, today was the case.


“Buck, get off me.” you grumbled into your pillow as you felt an extreme weight flop onto your back.

“Not an option, doll.” the super soldier replied. “The alarm has been going off for the past 15 minutes and it’s on your bedside table, I have to get to it somehow.”

“Fine, I’ll get it.” you retorted, rolling your eyes as you reached out to your phone and turned the alarm off without looking. Finally, he rolled back off of you.

“Big mission today.” Bucky said, stroking your hair. You hummed in response, not really listening.

“Infiltrating one of the largest Hydra bases.” he said, with a sterner tone. You sat upright, causing his hand to jerk back in surprise.

“Steve didn’t fucking tell me this!” you exclaimed.

“Steve wouldn’t fucking like your language.” he grinned, “I’ll be fine, doll, I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time, babe.” you gave him a patronising stare. “And who came back with a malfunctioning metal arm and a gunshot wound?”

“Oh, do tell.” he sat upright to meet your gaze. He smiled at you, but you weren’t amused.

“The only person here with a metal arm did.” you replied shortly, patting him on the head before rising from the bed and getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” Bucky questioned you.

“I’m coming with you.” you answered, shrugging your shoulders as if it was blatantly obvious.

“No you’re not!” he shouted out. You jumped slightly, but continued looking out clothes.

“Nobody’s gonna stop me.” you turned around to look at his large frame on the bed. “Not even you.”

“Is that so?” he raised his eyebrows suggestively. Again, you weren’t having any of it.

“You’re damn right it is.” you pulled a shirt over your head and looked yourself up and down in the mirror. It was a casual look, but you were literally going to walk down the hall.

“See ya later, handsome.” you cooed to him, walking towards the door.

“(Y/N)! Come back to bed!” he called out to you. You smiled to yourself, loving the sound of him begging for you. You ignored his yells and walked straight out the door.

You saw the team in the conference room and you burst in uninvited. They all looked slightly taken aback and Tony shot you a disapproving glare, you had clearly just interrupted one of his speeches.

“When were you assholes going to tell me Bucky is going on a mission without me?” you bellowed to all of them.

“We didn’t want to worry you.” Steve replied calmly.

“How considerate.” you smiled a sarcastic smile to him. “I’m going with you.”

At this, the room burst into outrage. “It’s too dangerous!” “You’re not prepared!” “Bucky is stronger!” you just rolled your eyes, you’d heard it all before.

“Everybody shut up!” Tony boomed. Everyone obeyed and looked at him, including you.

“Maybe it’s a good idea.” he said, staring at you. “I mean, Barnes has not even been here a year, (Y/N) has been here longer and is better trained. Also, if the Soldier comes out to say hello, chances are (Y/N) is the only one to get Barnes back.”

“See?” you said to everyone, smiling a thanks to Tony.

After an intense debate with Steve and Nat (who constantly babied you), you and the rest of the team won and it was decided you were accompanying them.

You were delighted at the news, and sped off down the hallway back to your room to tell Bucky the news. You bounded into the room and saw a very bored looking Bucky watching the TV.

“Guess who’s coming, too?” you squealed.

“I’m not allowing it.” he responded. Your excitement instantly left you.

“I don’t care. The team has agreed and I’m coming with you.” you sidled over to his side, placing your hand over his. “I trust you.”

He could never argue with you, you were the most stubborn person he had ever met, so he just gave in as per usual.


You were 15 minutes into the mission, and you had interpreted the whole thing wrong. The team had expected the Hydra agents to be inside the base, but they had seen you coming through cameras when you were miles off, and had managed to assemble a diamond structure in order to take you out of the sky.

The Quinjet had to do a detour and go round the back of the mountains and come in the rear doors of the base. Stark, Sam, Vision, and Wanda had all taken the air and were taking out agents from above. Clint had the rooftop as usual, and the rest of you were just on the ground. 

The jet had landed a few miles away from the base, so it was a trek to have to get there. You and Bucky were to take the basement level and rescue any hostages while taking out agents, Nat and Steve were to work from the top floor down to meet you both in the middle.

It was all going fine until you came to the middle floor and came face to face with an ambush. Steve and Nat where nowhere to be seen and Bucky had ran ahead of you a while ago. You had single-handedly managed to take out the ambush alone as Bucky had seen what you imagined an old nemesis and went into pursuit with him. 

The room was eerily quiet, it was just the sounds of your beating heart and ragged breathing. You began to panic as you silently swept the room for survivors, but there was none. You were alone.

“Nat? Steve?” you whispered into your comm.

Nothing.

“Winter is coming.” a voice you didn’t recognise growled through the comm back to you. It had a thick Russian accent, which if in a Hydra base was never a good sign.

“Who the hell is this?” you snarled back.

Nothing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Were the only words your brain could form.

You heard heavy footsteps coming from above you, and you grimaced at how the ceiling crumbled slightly under the weight of whoever that was.

“Bucky, where are you?” you whispered into the comm as a last resort.

“(Y/N)? What the hell happened? Where are you and Barnes?” Nat shouted through the sounds of static in your comm.

“You’re breaking up, Nat.” you replied. “I’m on the middle floor, I’ve lost Bucky and I’m not alone. Someone is above me.”

“Stay put, we’re coming for you.” Steve shouted frantically.

“We were ambushed.” you said to them. “Where the fuck did you guys go?”

“We’re so sorry, (Y/N).” Clint’s voice rang through. “We were ambushed up here, too. Clearly they knew our attacking style.”

“Where’s Bucky?” you cried into the comm, becoming impatient and worried at your partner’s absence. “Who has visual on Bucky?”

“Stay calm, we’ll find him.” Nat said to you.

“I’m going to find him.” you shouted, ripping the device from your ear and shoving it roughly into your pocket. You took a gun from the nearest agent’s body and began slowly going up the stairs, weapon poised and ready to fire.

You saw a familiar back that you knew belonged to Bucky, but something was off. His fists were clenched and his posture was rigid and unmoving. This wasn’t Bucky any more. This was the Winter Soldier. You felt your heart begin to race and your breathing become shallow.

He must have heard you, as he spun around to face you. You staggered back down a few steps, shocked at his abrupt turn. You looked right into his eyes, expecting to see some form of recognition, but were only met by a cold stare. His dead eyes sent a chill down your spine.

You had no idea what to do, you had never been in this situation before, but you knew if you couldn’t get Bucky back, nobody could.

“Hey, Bucky.” you said to him gently, taking slow steps back up the stairs. “It’s me, (Y/N). Do you remember me?”

He snarled at you and lunged towards you with a dagger in his flesh hand. You dodged out of the way, but his metal arm punched the wall you were next to seconds before. It cracked almost effortlessly.

You were thrown off by his aggressiveness that you didn’t notice his flesh hand coming back at you. The dagger was imbedded clean in your shoulder within seconds. You couldn’t think, you had a searing pain in your shoulder and your arm was slowly going numb.

“Bucky, please…” you begged him, but he just stared down at you before retracting his dagger and resuming his attack position. You pulled the combat knife from your boot and began circling him, ignoring the searing pain in your entire arm now.

“Don’t make me do this.” you pleaded with him, but he punched you across the face, resulting in your nose bursting and your jaw cracking. Fuck, that one hurt. Your vision became blurry and before you could react you were being side-tackled through a glass door. 

The glass shattered around you both, and your face and arms were being shredded by shards of glass. Bucky’s massive figure was laying on top of you, and your mind drifted back to that morning when everything was happy.

“Buck, get off me.” you grumbled, his head shot up and he looked you dead in the eyes. You saw them squint slightly as if he was beginning to register who you were. “Fight it, babe.”

“SHUT. UP.” he screamed at you, punching you in the abdomen at each word with alarming force. You felt a few ribs break under the ploughing of his fist. You began to cough up blood, and you knew something was wrong. You rolled out from under him, your entire body hurting. You hadn’t even landed a punch on him yet.

“I don’t know if you’re going to kill me.” you said soothingly to him. “But I do know you’re still in there Bucky. Fight it, handsome. For me.”

He charged towards you, his metal arm curled around your throat, blocking off all air. Your lungs started to burn and a ringing sound appeared in your ears. You knew this was the end, you couldn’t fight him. Your eyes stung with tears and you stared down at him for the last time.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. Don’t forget that.” you whispered, using up all air you had left. Your vision blurred completely, you were unable to focus on anything and the last thing you heard was him screaming your name as everything turned black.


Bucky watched as your limp body crumpled to the floor. He caught you before you could hit the ground and he let the tears fall freely from his eyes. He had witnessed this whole thing, and he hated himself for it. He heard every word you said, every time you soothed him with his name, but the Soldier ignored it,

He could see the blood trickling down from your nose and mouth down to your hairline. He could see the cuts all down your face and arms from the glass, he could see the hand-shaped bruise forming along your neck from his own goddamn hands.

He held you close to his chest and sprinted down the stairs out the back doors where you had came in. He saw Nat and Steve on the way, but he ignored their questions and shouts of your name and ran up to the jet. He could feel the warm sensation of the blood from your shoulder running onto his hands and it hurt him more than anything he had ever felt.

You were the love of his life, and he did this to you.


When you finally reached the jet, he gently laid you down on the emergency medical stretcher and held your weak, cold hand in his. The whole team was interrogating him but he blocked them out, replaying your last words to him in his head.

“BUCKY!” Nat’s distinctive voice finally reached him. She was fuming. “WHAT THE HELL WENT ON BACK THERE?”

“I-I can’t… I don’t…” he stammered, his brain a mess.

“Was it you, Buck?” Steve asked more calmly from behind him.

“Yes.” he whispered, moving closer to your unconscious form.

The team were shouting abuse at him, but he took it all on the chin. The one thing that hurt him the most was the stare of complete despair and disappointment Steve gave him. Steve had always been like a father figure to you, and him and Nat both looked they both lost a child.


When you began to stir, you felt the familiar sensation of cool metal enclosed around your fragile hand. You squeezed down on it to show Bucky you were waking up, and you heard sniffling. He had been crying.

“Buck…” you mumbled, your throat killing you from where he had-well, you know.

His blue eyes met yours and his tear-stained face looked like he hadn’t slept in days. You smiled at him and squeezed his hand again to reassure him you were going to be okay.

“I almost killed you. I thought I did!” he said in a frenzied tone to you. You could see the guilt was eating him alive.

“You didn’t. You’re still stuck with me.” you winked at him, ignoring the pain in all of your limbs.

He opened his mouth to protest, but you pulled his metal hand up to your face and kissed his knuckles gently. He sighed heavily, letting the guilt go.

“I love you James Buchanan Barnes. Don’t forget that.” you whispered to him, before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“As long as I live, I’ll never forget that.” he whispered back, stroking your cheek.

You knew it was going to be a long road to recovery, a long time to fully get over this, but you also knew you loved him more than anything and he loved you equally.

That would never change.


The Enemy’s Kid

Request Prompt: Could you maybe write a one- shot where the reader is Negan’s daughter and she’s kind of a badass and she meets Carl somehow and at first they dislike Each other but they end up kissing? Sorry if that was too much. it can be fluff or smut what ever you feel comfortable writing.

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Reader

Warning: Fluff

I stared the huge wall around Alexandria and sighed. Why do I have to come pick up my dad’s payment. He could’ve sent Dwight. The bastard probably finally get shot down. I approached the gate before hitting my fist against it a few times. It slid open revealing Rick, Michonne and their son Carl.

“I’m here per Negan’s request.”, I announced and Carl scoffed.

“Another lacky.”, He chuckled.

“Watch it cyclops. I could have your other eye torn out.”, I threatened and he glared at me.

“Enough Carl. What does he want.”, Rick interrupted.

“His payment.”, I retorted and he nodded.

“The crops haven’t finished growing yet. Mind waiting for a few hours.”, Michonne asked and I sighed.

“I’m more understanding than my old man. So yeah.”, I shrugged.

Rick sent me a small smile and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

“Thank you Y/N.”, he said walking back to the crops.

A girl’s cry of pain echoed through the streets and Carl ran towards the house. I followed only to stumble upon a girl with a glass shard in her leg. The medic I presume was trying his best by pulling it out inch by inch.

“No stop!! That’s hurts!!”, she shouted and I walked towards her.

“This is gonna hurt worse.”, I warned before yanking the shard out.

She screamed before the medic applied a towel to her bleeding wound.

“Just stitch it up and she’ll be fine.”, I said and the medic nodded.

“Hey!”, Carl called but I continued to walk away.

Once outside Carl grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

“What the fuck was that?!”, he shouted.

“I helped her. Now let go!!”, I replied.

“You could’ve made things worse.”, he said.

“Once she’s stitched up she’ll be fine! Your medic obviously didn’t know what to do will a pain withered teenager.”, I retorted yanking my arm away.

“That pain withered teenager is my friend.”, he told me.

“Well I’ve had friends who died from their injuries. She didn’t, so be happy about it.”, I replied.

“That doesn’t make things better.”, he sighed.

“Then go cry about it to your mother or something. Not me.”, I snapped walking away.

He remained quiet after that but I refused to turn around as I walked to the end of Alexandria. I slid down the gate and into the grass before pulling out my mother’s necklace. I kissed the pendant before sliding it back in my pocket. I noticed a shadow approaching me and looked up. My eyes met Carl’s as he held me at gun point.

“You’re staying here. To get a message through.”, he said.

“To who? My dad? If I don’t come back before tonight he’ll know something’s wrong. And then he’ll kill another one of your people. Just like the last one.”, I stated.

“He won’t you’re his daughter.”, he retorted.

“He will. Because that’s what he does. He goes in for the kill. He doesn’t wait anymore.”, I sneered.

Carl hesitated before putting his pistol away with a sigh. He began walking away before he came to a stop.

“I would cry to my mother. Believe me all the shit I’ve seen. I would. But I had to kill her a while back. To keep her from turning.”, he told me and I frowned.

I feel like a dick now.

“She died after we had to cut my sister out of her.”, he continued and I sighed.

“So the next time you mention her I will hurt you.”, he threatened.

“Oh you’re gonna hurt me? As if you’re the only one who’s lost a mom. In a place like this you learn to push any memories to the back of your head. That’s what I did.”, I said.

“You didn’t have to kill her did you?”, he sneered.

“No but I was forced to watch her get violated and left to die.”, I snapped.

“I couldn’t help her because I was tied up like she was. They were going to rape me like they raped my mother. If my dad hadn’t shown up when he did they would’ve. That’s why he doesn’t wait to take action. If he would have came a few hours before she would still be here and I’d feel bad for mentioning your mother. But she’s not so therefore I don’t feel bad.”, I continued.

He stared at me before I let out a sigh.

“Like I said you learn to push the memories away for new ones but never forget them.”, I whispered.

He walked away and that was the end of our conversation. Later that day the crops were done and they loaded them into the car I drove out here. I waved and to my surprise they waved back before I turned the key and drove away. After a while I decided to make a pit stop and pulled into the driveway of an abandoned house. I sighed before getting out and walking inside. I could hear a faint groan as I pushed open the door. My eyes watered as what used to be my mother turned to look at me. She was rotted but still looked the same.

“Hey mom.”, I whispered before pulling my knife out as I stalked toward her.

She lunged for me and I plunged the knife into her skull causing her body to fall limp. I fell to my knees cradling her body while brushing her hair with my hand.

“I’m sorry I let you turn. I didn’t know then.”, I cried before a shadow towered over me.

I turned to see Carl and looked back down at my mom. Carl sat down next to me setting his gun in its holster.

“This is her?”, he asked and I nodded.

“I didn’t know they turned after death. I just figured it was by bite.”, I mumbled.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered.

“Its fine. She would hold me like this when I was little. So its only fair for me to do the same.”, I said before his placed a soft and quick kiss on my lips.

“Like you said. You learn to push the memories away for new ones but never forget them.”, he said repeating my words.

A small blush crept on my cheeks and I gave a small smile.

“Help me bury her. Please?”, I asked and he nodded.

After finding a shovel in the backyard I properly buried my mother before hugging Carl.

“Thank you.”, I said.

He brought his arms around my waist and smile against my shoulder.

“No problem. I’ve been there. Mind helping us out with your dad?”, he asked and I nodded.

“I think I can talk him down a little.”, I smiled and Carl laughed.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you were Y/N.”, he told me and I giggled.

“I guess not.”

2

A/N: Finally, this is Part II. Part I can be read here. Thanks for your lovely ideas, guys! I tried to work them all in!

Words: 1649
Warnings: violence/blood/injuries

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Seas in Bottles

Sorry I haven’t been so active, life got really, really busy. Anyway, special thanks to whoever sent this prompt. I honeslty loved the idea of Kilorn getting Cal drunk. These babes need some bonding time too, so here we are with a drunk bonding fic. 

Timeline: During King’s Cage, approximately 6 months after Glass Sword

Rating: PG-13, language (cursing)

Spoilers: HIGH LEVEL WARNING

Pairings: implied MarexCal  

 Word Count: 3790 words

        It was an unusually cold evening in Monfort, so much so that Kilorn wrapped the threadbare jacket he had been given tighter around him and grumbled about the whole thing. No one said that when it snowed here, it got colder than Norta. No one had bothered to mention that, so here he was, trudging through almost knee deep snow to get back from his watch. He supposed to the only entertaining part was Calore ahead of him, almost slipping every time he took a step because the snow just melted as he passed through it. The Silver seemed completely immune to the cold though, and even had the audacity to wear only a thin jacket and no gloves or a scarf.

        A particularly strong wind blew into their faces and Kilorn decided in that moment that he had had enough. Planting his feet, he shouted, “That’s it, we’re stopping.”

        Calore froze up ahead and the snow at his feet immediately began to turn to slush. He threw a loaded glare over his shoulder at Kilorn and hissed, “This will be the fourth time you’ve decided to stop, it will only get worse the longer we stay out here.”

       “Well, I’d rather stop somewhere and just wait it out.” Kilorn replied with a sniff. He liked to think that when he argued with the Prince that he normally won. In reality he knew that he was just a sore loser, and the only person who had ever been able to stand toe to toe with the Silver, and actually get him to bow out, was locked up in Archeon, dying at the hands of the King.

        He immediately turned away from that thought though. The minute he started on Mare, he couldn’t stop. His stomach churned like a rough sea at the thought of her in pain, and his heart ached in his chest as he thought about the fact that no matter what happened, she would only ever see him as a friend and a brother. He used to think it was really unfair, his competition being a perfect Silver Prince and all, but he’d slowly started to realize that there had never been a competition at all. Calore had won, before the race had even started, so Kilorn tried to shrug off the bitter jealousy and move on. There was no use crying over something like that, and besides, he and Calore had sort of teamed up to get her back. It felt like they were the only two people at the moment that were even trying anyway.

        Glancing around him at the host of dark shops and rickety homes, Kilorn scanned the street for a place to rest for a few hours. Eventually, his eyes landed on windows spilling warm light onto the snow, practically beckoning him. With a smile underneath his thick scarf, he took a few freezing steps though the snow and nudged Calore on his way by. “How about a drink? You and I could use one.”

        The Prince followed him, even though he was obviously reluctant, and grumbled, “I don’t drink.”

        “Well, then I want a drink, and you need a drink.” Kilorn said with a laugh as he stood patiently outside of the heavy door. Calore eventually joined him, his eyes uncertain as they flickered in the dim light of the windows. Kilorn figured that the prince would not be exactly comfortable in a bar like the one they were about to enter, and he relished the fact that he was going to get to see the silver squirm. It wouldn’t have been as funny though if he knew how Mare and the prince had met.

        Grabbing the handle of the door, Kilorn yanked on it, cracking the ice that had formed on the edge from the cold. Kilorn glanced at the shards of ice still clinging to the lock and then throwing a smug smile in Calore’s direction he said, “You know it’s too cold when the doors freeze shut.”

        The Silver simply huffed and stepped through the door and into the raucous noise that the bar was producing. Kilorn followed him in, unraveling his scarf and pulling off his hat. Calore simply ran his fingers through his dark hair, melting the frost that was clinging to it. Kilorn brushed his own hair off and then started across the old wood floor toward the darker part of the bar, where a few dimly lit tables were pushed up against the wall. The whole place brought back good memories of sitting in bars and laughing, watching people get stupidly drunk before stumbling outside to collapse in the dirt. He wondered for a moment if he would ever feel that happy again.

        He picked a table that was farthest from everyone and sank down into the chair, sighing in content as he put his boots up on one of the empty chairs and stretched his legs out, enjoying the warmth that was slowly pushing through every gap in his clothing.

        Calore slinked behind him, trying to make himself as small as possible to avoid anyone noticing his presence. He had been told to keep a low profile upon arrival in Monfort and in response he had tried to stick to the small town house that the entire group had been allocated. Farley had had enough of his pathetic moping after four months and had practically forced him out the door and thrown him on Kilorn, saying that the two of them needed some bonding time anyway. They had both protested for a solid heartbeat, only for Farley to slam the door in their faces and lock it. It had been a long day after that, with Calore mostly keeping to himself and refusing to say more than five words in a sentence. In fact, the most he had said all day was to tell Kilorn to stop whining about the cold, because there were much worse positions to be in. After he’d said it too, Kilorn had seen his eyes flash with some unknown emotion, and in that moment, Kilorn had known exactly what situation he was thinking about and who was in that situation at the moment.

        Shaking off the memories from the day, Kilorn waved over a pretty young waitress, putting on what he thought was a charming smiling as she approached with her own wry smile that said she knew exactly what was coming.

        Leaning forward to keep her eye on him, Kilorn smiled and said, “I’ll have a good strong drink, and my friend,” he kicked the prince under the table, drawing those burning irises to him, before continuing, “Will have something light.”

        “I’ll have whiskey.” The silver grumbled, before leaning back and crossing his arms, obviously perturbed by Kilorn’s decision for him. Shrugging at the comment, Kilorn jerked his thumb to his companion and said, “Fine, whatever he wants, I’ll have too.”

        The waitress smiled coyly, and tried not to tell Kilorn that she knew exactly who he and his “friend” were. With a dip of her head, she replied, “I’ll be right back.”
        She turned away and started toward the bar, giving Kilorn the opportunity to lean across the table and tease, “I thought you said you didn’t drink. Whiskey’s pretty heavy duty stuff.”

        “It’s none of your business what I choose to drink.” The prince replied stiffly, before glancing around the bar at the other patrons. At one of the tables across form them, a rowdy card game had just begun, and judging by the bets being put on the table, everyone was a bit more drunk than they realized. Beyond them, another group of young men, no older than them really, we’re laughing wildly as they told stories from the day. Kilorn glanced in their direction as well, and then glanced back at Calore, who seemed to fit into the mold of the bar more than Kilorn thought he would.

        Sitting back in his chair, Kilorn said, “Fine, but I’m not dragging your three-sheets-to-the-wind drunk ass home, you can crawl for all I care.”
        “How generous of you, I’ll keep that in mind.” The prince replied with small smile. Kilorn had seen it only a few times since that faithful day that the Blackrun had gone down. Calore rarely smiled lately, rarely showed any form of emotion actually. Which Kilorn thought was just plain stupid. He should have been angry, should have been railing against the world if he seemed to care about Mare so much. But he hadn’t done that.

        At that moment, the waitress returned with their drinks, setting the bottle on the table and two glasses between them. She winked at the two of them and said, “Strongest thing we’ve got, so take it easy.”

        Kilorn smiled and then grabbing the bottle he returned her wink and then opened the bottle to pour the amber liquid into the two glasses. She laughed at his reaction and then slipped away, walking toward the card table to see if anyone needed anything there.

        Kilorn finished pouring, and then picking up the glass he swirled the liquid for a few seconds and then said, “You sure you can drink this stuff? I mean I haven’t had whiskey in years, but I still remember how hard it screwed me over.”

        The prince simply took his glass and placed the rim to his lips. Kilorn watched, fascinated as he tipped the glass back and downed the liquid in two gulps.

        He set the glass down and for a moment Kilorn doubted that he hadn’t drunken before, but a heartbeat later, the silver coughed on the fiery trail the drink left in his throat and growled, “How did he even drink this garbage?”

        Kilorn smiled and then took a sip before saying, “Who we talking about here?”

        The silver’s eyes flashed, as if he were surprised that Kilorn had heard him. His lips curled slightly and he whispered, “No one who is alive.”

        “Right, so I shouldn’t assume the uncle was the drinker?” Kilorn teased as he leaned back in his chair, taking in the scene around them. When he glanced back, the Silver had already poured himself another glass. Slamming his own down on the table, Kilorn pulled it away before he could drink again. “Slow down there, if you haven’t done something like this before you’ll kill yourself.”
        “I don’t see what the problem is then.” He growled in reply, before yanking the glass back across the table. Kilorn stiffened in response and then spit, “Fine, drown yourself in self-pity, see if I care.”

        (//)

        A good hour later, the bottle was empty, and so was the second one that had come after it. Kilorn let out a snorting laugh at that fact, knowing his face was cherry apple red. Then leaning across the table, he whispered with a stupid grin on his face, “You wanna know a secret?”

        Across from him, the prince snorted and then chuckled before saying, “Depends on if I have to tell you one too.”

        “Obviously,” Kilorn drawled, his tongue loose with the taste of the whiskey  that he had been drinking to try and keep up with the Silver so that he didn’t drink himself under the table. Farley would never forgive him if he brought the prince back to the house black out drunk. He was also feeling surprisingly loose around the prince, he wasn’t all that bad, really. He was a lot better when he loosened up and just talked. 

        “The secret is that…” Kilorn trailed off and then snickered and grabbed the bottle to tip it over and see if anything was left. A few drops trickled out and he groaned comically before setting it down and continuing, “The secret is that I hated you… so much.”

        There was silence for a moment, before Calore laughed. He threw his head back and almost fell out of the chair. Kilorn laughed as well, pointing his finger at him threateningly and saying, “Don’t laugh, it’s one billion percent true.”
        The prince leaned forward again, righting himself so that he didn’t fall out of the chair, and replied, “I have absolutely no qualms with that.”
        “See that’s what I hate, you use all these big fancy words like “quails”. Honestly what the fuck is a “quail” anyway? How can you have no quails with me?”
        Calore laughed again, and this time, he did slip out of his chair slightly, but managed to catch himself on the tables edge before he went toppling to the floorboards. Kilorn laughed as well, more at his own stupidity than the prince’s inability to hold his liquor. But he was doing surprisingly well at keeping it down, which had been a feat in and of itself. He had downed at least two more glasses than Kilorn, and was maybe just as far gone, if not a little more. Kilorn figured he would have been lying on the floor by this point, unmoving and essentially dead.

        “You want to know my secret?” The prince said, with a smile that actually reached his eyes for the first time. Kilorn nodded rapidly, excited to know exactly what went through a drunk prince’s mind. Calore leaned forward and then beckoned Kilorn forward so that he could whisper and still be heard over the crowd around them. Kilorn leaned forward, his arm sliding across the table so that he almost face planted into the wood. The prince smiled then and whispered, “My brother would have made a better king than me anyway.”

        Kilorn froze for a moment, and then watched as the prince threw his head back and laughed, as if that were the funniest thing he had ever said. Kilorn frowned though and said bluntly, the whiskey dulling his ability to filter his insult, “But your brother’s an asshole.”

        “Damn straight he is, but he’s a smart one, and he knew his way around the court more than I ever could dream of knowing. You know he told me I probably would have died on my wedding night? And you know what? I probably would have.” He laughed again at the end of his statement, his face getting paler by the second as he became more and more flushed. Kilorn watched him for a second and then said, “You really believe that.”

        “Of course I believe that, I’d be stupid not to.”

        Kilorn’s frown deepened, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have let the prince drink after all. This was not what he wanted to hear, let alone what other people should be hearing.

        “You want to hear another secret?”

        “No, not really, I think we should actually leave and get you back now.” Kilorn said as he stumbled to his feet. The prince grabbed his wrist though and yanked him back into his seat, surprisingly in control of his motor functions considering how much whiskey he had had.

        “I think we should stay a little longer, I haven’t felt like this in years.”

        “I think you need to go back, Farley’s probably worried-“

        “Farley can go crawl back under the rock she came from. She doesn’t care about what happens to me. At this point she’s just keeping me around for what I know about the silvers, which is starting to become irrelevant at this point.” He chuckled to himself and Kilorn blanched at the statement, not sure how to respond.  The silver glanced at him then, his eyes suddenly clear, and with a terribly soft whisper he said, “My biggest secret is that I broke my promise to her. I promised her that I would never let anyone hurt her, that I would never let him hurt her again. I thought I had enough power to protect her, to keep her safe, fat lot of good it did me though.”

        He glared down at his bracelets then, as if they were the problem. Without them, he was essentially useless, and Kilorn had learned that very quickly after the Blackrun went down. That memory came back like a burning knife being shoved down his throat though, and he tried to will it away, but it wouldn’t go away. All he could see was Mare, kneeling in the snow, her eyes dry and her face stern as she made the deal that would seal her fate. He’d screamed at her to stop, screamed at the prince to stop her, but Calore had watched as well, not once taking his eyes off of Mare.

        “You weren’t going to be able to protect her, no one was. Mare choose to go, and there was no stopping her.” Kilorn warned, trying to stand again and help the prince up. He stumbled from him chair this time, letting Kilorn take him, and almost took Kilorn down when he stumbled over his feet.

        Reaching into his jacket pocket, Kilorn dumped a few coins on the table and then started to drag the prince toward the door.

        “I didn’t go to the funeral cause she told me to stay away, and I was so goddamn bitter about those stupid letters. They were worth shit anyway, but I was still furious with her because of them.”

        At that point, Kilorn wasn’t really sure what the prince was talking about anymore, and he didn’t really want to know either. He simply kept dragging him, and then slamming his hat on his own head, he wrapped his scarf around his neck in a pathetic attempt to brave the cold outside. He needed to get Calore back and into bed, without waking all the little Newbloods they had brought with them. They couldn’t see their hero covered in sweat, and farther from sober than they were from Norta.

        “I hated you too you know, I hated you because she trusted you, completely and absolutely. She would never question you, ever. Me though, she questioned me every step of the way, always wondering why I was sticking around.”

        “I think you’re done talking now,” Kilorn said as he shoved open the door and stepped out into the freezing night. The cold immediate began to wipe away some of his drunken state, but his side instantly smarted with heat as Calore increased his body heat drastically to account for the change.

        “Shut up Warren, I’m not done yet.”

        “How about this, I’ll shut up if you shut up.”

The prince was silent for a second, and then replied, “Fine.”

Kilorn sighed in relief and then began to drag him through the snow, with Calore knocking them off course with every faltering step he took. At this rate they would never make it back to the house, not with Calore being a pain in the ass like this, Kilorn thought bitterly, as his fingers began to freeze. They finally managed to make it down the long street, and then turning toward the house, Kilorn sighed in relief when he saw the light on in the window from the kitchen. Hopeful Farley or Cameron was still up and they were willing to help him drag Calore up the stairs.

As they went up the two stairs to the house, Calore whispered softly, “I never told her the truth. I never told her that I… that I love her.”

        “I thought we agreed to stop talking.” Kilorn grumbled as he fished for the key in his pocket. Calore slipped away from him though and then leaned against the side of the house, his face hidden in shadow. Kilorn finally managed to find the key, his hands were shaking from the cold though, and with a cry of terror he dropped in into the snow. Calore glanced at him as this happened and the snorted with laughter, only to slide forward and fall face first into the snow. Kilorn looked down at him then, waiting for him to get up. The silver didn’t move though, didn’t so much as flinch really at the cold, and Kilorn let out a strangled groan at the fact that he was probably going to have to drag him up the stairs.

        At that moment, the door opened, flooding the front step with light from the kitchen. Blinking at the blinding brightness, Kilorn groaned and covered his eyes to try and prevent the headache he felt building up between his eyebrows.

        There was silence for a second and then Farley, with a terrifyingly calm voice asked, “What happened?”

        Kilorn simply bent down and grabbed Calore’s shoulders before tugging him in a circle so that he could drag him into the house. “He’s drunk.”

        “What?” Farley hissed, as she stepped out of the way and set her hand on her swollen stomach, her eyes wide in fury. Kilorn glanced at her and deadpanned, “I honestly didn’t think he’d drink as much as he did.”
        “Who?” Someone else said from the other side of the kitchen, and Kilron glanced over his shoulder to see Calore’s uncle sitting at the table, a cup of tea in his hands. Wincing at what this looked like, he turned back to face Farley with a pleading expression. She glared at him though and slammed the door before saying, “Yes Warron, who is completely drunk at the moment?”

        “Well, I am, but he’s a lot worse off. I’m honestly surprised he made it all the way back to the house without collapsing.”

        The other silver got up, his eyes scanning his nephew before he sighed heavily and said, “Never thought I’d see this day.”

        “Congratulations, you have. Now can someone please help me get him upstairs?”    

        “Absolutely not,” Farley replied, before grabbing her own cup of tea and finishing, “The two of you are sleeping downstairs. I’m not going to listen to him vomit his insides out when he wakes up.”

        Kilorn’s mouth dropped open in surprise and he sputtered for a second, wondering what he had done to get himself put in the same position at Calore. He could hold his alcohol, and he certainly wouldn’t have any trouble dealing with his hangover tomorrow morning. Why did he have to stay down here with Calore? 

        “You two seemed to have a good time, judging by Calore, so I assume there was some good male bonding. You can continue to bond while you sleep on the couch.” Farley said as she left the room, her eyes like hard diamonds, offering no room for argument. Kilorn turned to Calore’s uncle then, his eyes pleading for help. The older man sighed and then grabbed his tea as well and said, “Good night Kilorn.”

        With that, they both left the room, and Kilorn was left holding Calore’s limp body. With a groan of frustration he dragged him farther into the room and then into the tiny sitting room that had been furnished with a few worn pieces of furniture. He dropped Calore on the carpet and then collapsed onto the couch, deciding that the seas in the bottles had made rough seas in his stomach.
       

Divorce? (Namjoon Angst)

Request: Hi can I request a rm sceanio where he ask his wife for a divorced even though she so in love with him and ask him to spend 3 day with him him he can’t say no during those day you can make it sad or good (:-

Summary: Divorce but not really. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, cliffhanger ending that’s up to you to interpret ahah.

Word count: 1.2K

Notes: A bit short, but yeah, do enjoy it while I go for my nation exams haha. More will be up later hopefully.

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

You couldn’t believe it.

To be fair you knew it was too good to be true when you got married to Namjoon, but still, now you couldn’t believe it.

“Let’s get a divorce.”

Those four words had been stuck in your brain ever since you left your house. You didn’t know that Namjoon would be suggesting divorce over breakfast, so now here you were sitting at a random café having a cup of coffee, contemplating life.

“I know it’s sudden but… This is just prolonging what would happen sooner or later. Y/N… There’s no more feelings in this marriage anymore. It’s so useless to continue if we’re not happy.”

But you didn’t understand what Namjoon was telling you, because you still loved him and you were happy. Was it just him that fell out of love with you?

You were heart broken and lost, but you knew you couldn’t do that to him. It hurt your heart to think that you couldn’t make him happy anymore, but you wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with you.

You sighed deeply, typing out a message to Namjoon. You hesitated before sending the message, going back to sipping on your coffee and getting over your heart break.  

When Namjoon had suggested divorce, he didn’t know what to expect. He knew that you were still in love with him but he had lost his feelings for you. It had slowly fizzled out over the course of your marriage. It started from the lessened time spent together once you were past your honeymoon stage, to the constant fights and slamming of doors as one of you left to go cool off. It was a mess.

Namjoon stopped being happy, he was so stressed with work, and with you around, it just added to the pressure of everything. He didn’t want to let you down, he didn’t want to leave you with bad memories of him. He wanted to leave you with happy memories, so you wouldn’t associate him with shitty things. He wanted to leave on a high note.

That’s how he came to the decision to get a divorce, and when you left after he told you, he felt horrible. As he sat on the couch waiting for you to give him your decision, he spent time thinking over everything. Was it really the right decision? But when you sent him that message, he didn’t believe it.

I’ll do it but… Just spend 3 more days with me before we do whatever it is we need to do. Just 3 days.

Namjoon couldn’t say no to you, he never could. So he agreed even though he didn’t know what to expect. He had called up his lawyer to get him to prepare the materials for the divorce, just as you walked through the door.  

You mumbled a greeting before escaping to the kitchen to start on dinner. You weren’t going to let the man starve, even if you were getting a divorce. Maybe it was just the wife instincts. As you started up dinner, you didn’t notice that Namjoon had came into the kitchen and was watching you.

“Are you okay?”

His sudden presence had shocked you, making you drop the plate you were holding. You silently stood in the middle of the shards of glass, the air suddenly awkward.

“Just wait there, I’ll go get the vacuum.” Namjoon told you, before running off.

You obviously didn’t listen as you started to pick up the glass around you, slightly moving to clear more of your mess. You hadn’t notice the small shard that lodged itself in your foot, or the trail of blood you were leaving in your wake as you made your way to the trash can.

“Y/N, I told you to wait.” Namjoon muttered, plugging in the vacuum.

He looked up to see a trail of blood leading to you and instantly panicked.

“Holy shit. Are you okay?” He asked, making quick light steps to you.

“I’m fine.” You answered as he stood right in front of you, looking for injuries.

Namjoon rolled his eyes at your answer, hoisting you up onto the counter before he bent down to gently pick up your foot.

“There’s glass stuck. I’ll go get the kit.” He says, before running off once again.

It warmed your heart to see that he still cared for you, it really did, but when it came to down to it, you knew that the divorce would still be happening. Whatever, you would just enjoy whatever time you had left with him. Three days is a short amount of time.

When Namjoon came back with the kit, he had carefully extracted the shard of glass before bandaging your foot. Unexpectedly, he carried you all the way to the living room to settle you on the couch before he ordered take out.

“Well, I can’t cook and now you definitely can’t. Pizza?”

Of course you agreed, it had been ages since you last had pizza with Namjoon. You flicked on the television as Namjoon ordered pizza, getting your favourite. You had a small smile on your face as you realized that he still knew your order.

Namjoon knew that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be being so nice to you because maybe, just maybe, he would get convinced to stay. His heart was fickle in that way. As the both of you waited for the pizza to arrive, you had suddenly started up a conversation with him.

“Remember when the boys came over and trashed our place?”

He did remember, he remembered the boys running away as you came home to him casually sitting in the middle of chaos. He remembered that you were livid, which made him laugh as you figured out the damage.

“Yeah, it was funny. You were so angry at Taehyung for over watering your houseplant.” Namjoon laughed, thinking back on that moment.

“Hey, we got that from your mom as a house warming gift and it died because of Taehyung. Of course I’d be mad.” You stated.

As the conversation progress, Namjoon realized that the both of you had a lot of good memories, hardly any bad ones. Although he did recall the many times you both had argued, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember what it was about.

The pizza came and the pair of you spent the night eating and talking, something that the both of you hardly ever did anymore; Namjoon had missed it, so did you.

The three days went by fast, faster than the both of you could imagine. It was an amazing three days, with no fights and just doing things together. It was like the relationship was healing itself. However, when the time came, you knew it was still going to happen.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon had asked as you zipped around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Yeah, I also said so, and you already spent three days with me. I’m not going back on my word since you kept yours.” You replied, serving up the food.

You couldn’t catch what Namjoon had muttered under his breath, but you shrugged it off. It probably wasn’t important.

“Y/N…” Namjoon calls out.

“The three days have been good.” He tells you smiling.

You nodded in response, sending him a small smile. The both of you dug into breakfast as the silence returned, only to be broken by Namjoon’s random outburst.

“Oh fuck it. Let’s not get a divorce.”