solid noses

givenchy & gold, part i (m.)

;pairing — jungkook/reader

;warnings — sex | implied exhibitionism | mild dom/sub tones | if u’ve got a praise kink then ur gonna love this | mentions of daddy kinks | instances of spanking 

;summary — you’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot of useless lingerie knowledge, jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other to say no.

;word count — 20k im so sorry

part i | part ii | drabbles

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Ocelot: Talk dirty to me ;^))

Big Boss: You ejected the first bullet by hand, didn’t you? I see what you were trying to do, but testing a technique you’ve only heard about in the middle of battle wasn’t very smart. You were asking to have your gun jam on you. Besides, I don’t think you’re cut out for an automatic in the first place; you tend to twist your elbow a little to absorb the recoil. That’s more of a revolver technique. 

Ocelot: haha then what? ;^)

1/7/2017-1/9/2017 Soup-Nose The Goat has some swelling under her jaw. We suspect bottlejaw (fluid retention caused by anemia). Anemia in goats is usually a parasite issue, so we wormed her, and I drove to the hippie feed store and bought some of the fancy organic sweetfeed to try and convince her to eat a bunch of delicious nutrition. Even Soup Nose’s Olympic-class food fussiness is no match for sweetfeed.

Sweetfeed is made of corn, molasses, oats, various trace vitamins, and tiny shavings from a shining blue meteor that landed in the Darkhad Valley in Mongolia in 1953. The workers who harvest the meteor cover their ears so they can’t hear it singing to them.

Sweetfeed smells amazing. I have genuinely considered cooking it like oatmeal and eating it myself. My google history is full of searches for cornflake and molasses cookies, gingerbread cornmeal cookies, something, anything. Internet forums are thronged with people wondering how to make moonshine out of it. It smells like molasses and raisins and cornbread and coming home to the family you never knew you had after a long time wandering in the dusty dark between worlds.

We have to keep a brick on top of the bin with sweetfeed in it, because otherwise the feral cats sneak into the barn and eat it. 

The cats try to eat goat food.

(Seriously. I tell a lot of lies on this blog. That is not one of the lies. It’s uncanny stuff.

Also, if you know any recipes that involve molasses and cornflakes, please send them to me, the smell is driving me mad.)

the kid is a fucking tool || henry bowers

plot: Henry gets jealous over y/n’s new crush. But of course he won’t admit it.

-made this superrr long bc I haven’t posted something in a while. I worked really hard on this let me know how it is!

Word count: 1800+


It was lunch time, I sat carelessly with my legs crossed, taking up half of the bench but none of my friends cared. It was me and Patrick on one side and Henry, Belch, and Vic on the other. They were arguing whether some girl was hot or not. And it fucking pissed me off especially when Henry would make comments. I’ve had the biggest crush on Henry, ever since I could remember. I know what you’re thinking, that kid is a cunt, but to me he was my best friend. I pushed away the feelings I had for him, considering he’s never had a crush on anyone.

“No but like Kelsey is easily a 9.” Belch said slamming his hand down on the table, interrupting my thoughts as the boys argued about who was the hottest in our school.

“Yea…if you put a bag over her head.” Henry commented with a chuckle, then they all started dying of laughter , agreeing with his crude comment.

Since this conversation was boring and did not pertain to me, I zoned out completely. I glanced over the lunch room, there was the kids really into music, the kids who were super shy and didn’t talk, the stoners , and then the jocks of course. Sure, they weren’t the smartest, but they were all very good looking.

As I scanned the lunch table, my glance lingered on the quarterback of the football team,Ethan. He was the guy that every girl in school had a crush on, including myself. Ethan was super popular and I was too shy to talk to him, so of course I had never acted upon my feelings. I watched as he laughed at something his teammate said, his head shaking in disbelief as he let out a loud chuckle. He was perfect.

Well yeah, he wasn’t Henry perfect but he still was a dime.

“Y/n who are you staring at?” Patrick questioned from beside me, elbowing me in the side. I quickly averted my glance to my friends, trying not to blush.

“I-I … no one.” I stuttered out, trying to find words and ended up sounding like Bill Denbrough.

“Bullshit, she was probably staring at Ethan.” Belch added stifling a laugh. Victor and Patrick went “ooooooo” and Henry just sat there with a disgusted look on his face.

“Really, Ethan? Like out of all people?” Henry asked me, in disbelief.

“He’s cute.” I mumbled looking down at my lap. I never talked about boys to my friends considering they were boys and didn’t wanna hear about my girl problems.

“The kid is a fucking tool. But still you really think he would go out with you Y/n?” Henry asked with a nasty tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I replied, crossing my arms. Patrick, Victor, and Belch didn’t say anything, they just looked on, wondering what Henry was going to say next.

“He would never go out with someone like you, Y/n. Like are you a fucking idiot?” Henry chuckled, leaning forward, placing his head in his hands and staring into my eyes.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I glanced over at Patrick and Victor and they looked very confused. Belch looked uneasy as they all just looked at me with a sympathetic look, except asshole Henry of course.

I blinked a few times, processing the extremely degrading insult he just told me. It fucking hurt, having your best friend telling you ‘you’re ugly and a loser’ practically.

No one said anything. I could feel Henry’s eyes burning a hole into my head. I just looked down into my lap, I felt tears prick my eyes as I tried to blink them away. I wanted to leave his presence as soon as possible. I stood up from my spot and wiped my tears off my cheek.

“Y/n, are you okay? Henry’s just in a pissy mood…he doesn’t mean it.” Patrick asked me, standing up as well.

“I-I, I’ll see you guys after school.” I mumbled, not bothering to answer Patrick’s concerning question. Luckily, our table was seated towards the cafeteria doors so I could easily leave without having to navigate through a bunch of people. I kept my head down, walking a steady pace. Totally not trying to make eye contact with anyone.

Nearing the door, I guess I wasn’t paying attention because I felt a large body get pushed into me. Losing my balance, I stumbled over right into someone’s chest. I looked up to see Ethan with a worried look on his face.

“Hey sorry about that…my friends are dumb.” He greeted, averting his gaze to his friends who were pushing each other around.

“It’s okay. Sorry I bumped into you.” I shyly commented looking up at him.

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying?” Ethan asked me with a look of concern painted across his face. Great. Of course one of the only times I talk to him I look like a hot mess.

“Uh yeah, Henry was just being mean to me.” I let out a nervous chuckle. He looked across the room and stared Henry down, who was also staring with Belch, Victor and Patrick. Henry gave Ethan a dirty look.

“That kid is a complete asshole. Don’t let him bother you.” He smiled wrapping his arm around my shoulders reassuringly. I cracked a soft smile at him.

“I won’t, thanks again. Well… I’ll see you around Ethan.” I smiled leaning into him for a hug and he wrapped his arms around me. Yeah a hug was pretty ballsy but I gave no fucks at this point.

“Yeah Y/n I’ll see you soon, we should hang out this weekend.” He winked and I nodded in agreement. I waved bye and strolled out of the cafeteria. Oh my god, I’m gonna hang out with Ethan this weekend.


School had just ended and I was in a rush to get out to Belch’s car, hopefully before Henry, so I wouldn’t be stuck sitting next to him.

As I ran out of the doors I saw Henry lunging at Ethan’s face, throwing multiple punches at him.

What the fuck is happening?

I looked around to see Ethan’s friends and my friends egging the fight on as Ethan threw a solid punch at Henry’s nose. I ran across the parking lot as they fought against the concrete.

“Don’t fucking touch her or talk to her or else I’ll fucking slit your throat!” Henry screamed at Ethan, throwing a punch at Ethan’s eye. Who were they talking about?

“She would be a good fuck… don’t be mad cause you can’t hit it Bowers.” Ethan sarcastically smiled while spitting blood out of his mouth at Henry.

Henry tackled Ethan and they began rolling on the floor, taking turns beating the shit out of each other. I decided to intervene, with a worried Victor behind me.

“What the fuck are you guys doing? Henry get off of him!” I yelled grabbing Henry by the back of his shirt.

He whipped his head around, ready to snap but quickly shut his mouth as I stood in front of him.

Everyone remained silent. Ethan got up off the ground wiping his bloody mouth with the end of his hoodie.

“This kid is a fucking psycho.” Ethan told me, pointing at Henry.

“Uh does someone wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?” I asked everyone, including my friends and Ethan.

“Y/n I told you this kid was a fucking tool. He was saying how he would fuck the shit out of you and basically use you.” Henry said wiping the blood off of his nose, looking exasperated. I furrowed my eyebrows at Ethan.

“You said that?” I questioned frowning.

“No of course not…” He had the most unconvincing voice I’ve ever heard. He was a very bad liar.

“He’s lying Y/n. We all heard it.” Victor intervened, placing his hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Ethan looking to his friends stifling a laugh as he knew he was caught acting like a douchebag.

My friends looked super pissed, this kid was disrespecting me right in front of my face.

“I would NEVER fuck you in a million years.” I spat at Ethan, backhanding him across the face. He gasped and looked back at me in disbelief. I heard Victor and Henry gasp from behind me.

“You’re a fucking bitch, I knew you were a fucking wacko, since you hang out with those freaks.” Ethan spoke, lightly shoving me backwards into Henry. Henry clutched my waist as he caught me.

“You fucking touch her again I’ll beat you senseless, you fucking creep. Stay the fuck away from us.” Henry threatened, pulling his knife out of his pocket, pointing it at Ethan and his friends.

They all looked at each other wide-eyed and shamefully jogged away from us.

I frowned as I looked up at Henry, his nose was gushing blood. His cheek bone was bruised and his knuckles were all busted open. We all walked to Amy in silence.

Belch was driving obviously, with Patrick in the passenger seat. Henry, me, and Victor in the back.

“Pat get me the first aid kit.” I called out to Patrick, staring at Henry’s cuts.

He handed me the first aid kit with a soft smile and I muttered a polite 'thank you.’

I turned to Henry with the first aid kid antiseptic and began cleaning his cuts open.

“Thank you Henry. I’m glad you defended me when he was saying those rude things about me.” I apologized to Henry, something I rarely did but it was well deserved.

“No one talks about my girl like that.” He mumbled, looking out the window as I cleaned his knuckles off, holding his one hand with both of mine.

I smiled lightly at the 'my girl’ but decided not to tease him about it.

“You’re the best. Even if you can be a prick sometimes.” I said pinching his cheek while he rolled his eyes, slapping my hand away.

“I’ll always protect you, even if you think I’m being mean I’m just looking out for your dumbass.” He said looking at me trying to hold back a smile. I held the eye contact for about a minute until I decided to reach up to his face.

I carefully grabbed his jaw and placed my lips on his. He was a little shocked at first but he kissed me back for a little until we heard our friends whistling in the car. I pulled away and looked at Henry. He pulled me onto his lap and Belch drove around Derry for the rest of the night. We sat in comfortable silence, his fingers laced with mine and his arms wrapped around my stomach.

“See… I’m not that bad of a guy.” Henry whispered in my ear, planting a kiss on my cheek.

The first thing i painted with the new acrylics i got is my dude Aizawa Shouta

Rehabilitating A Broken Heart (9)

Bucky x Reader AU

Summary: Bucky Barnes is an arrogant asshole. He loves parties, girls, and having everything revolve around him. After a horrific car accident that causes him to lose his arm, he’s sent to physical rehabilitation where he meets Y/n, a spunky, takes no shit, physical therapist that has Cerebral Palsy. There, a strong connection forms and she shows him the ropes of living a normal life with a disability.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: DRAMAAAA, angst, lil bit of jealous!bucky, language, mentions of sex, pinning, mike is a major cockblock, bucky is very angry and very annoyed, violence, a bar fight, steve’s a dick fucker (aka an asshole), little bit of fluff, cliffhanger?, that’s it??? i think???




Chapter 9: Bar Fight Realizations


My best friend Steve.

He broke her heart. He knowingly cheated on Peggy leading up to their wedding and Y/n had no idea. She had no clue that she was the other woman or that he was getting married. Steve had blindsided her.

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Cats and Dogs

Here is my first entry for Juju’s Fluffy Birthday Challenge @jared-padaloveme, for prompt #11.  The cat (Jake) is based off my cat (see cute picture below), and the dog (Barney) is based off my parents’ dog.  The interaction between them in this story is exactly how things go in real life! :)

Summary: You and your cat meet Sam and his dog at the pet store.

warnings: fluffy Sam, dog and cat fighting

word count: ~1200

Originally posted by hunterchesters

You cooed at your kitty in his carrier as you walked into the pet store.  Your cat wasn’t a very outgoing animal – you knew that he hated being out of the house or around strangers in general – but since you were on your way home from the vet you thought he could come in with you while you bought his food and some new toys.

Yes, your cat was spoiled, but he was your baby and you would be damned if you didn’t buy him a new toy or two (or three) every time you stopped at the pet store.

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Bad Timing - Tim Drake x Reader

Prompt: Could you please write a prompt where Tim and the reader are bestfriends and vigilantes, they get kidnapped, manage to escape only for the reader to get injured and almost die which makes Tim realize he likes the reader?? Lots of fluff at the end?

Tim ran harder than he had ever in his life. All that consumed his mind was finding you. You were in trouble and if he didn’t get there fast enough … he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself if something happened to you.

He was careless. He burst through the door where they were holding you hostage without a second thought. He should have been more careful, he should have thought this through. He was just so desperate to you out of here.

Tim took out anyone who stood in his way and he fought his way through the compound. He burst through the door at the end of a long hallway to find you chained to a chair anchored to the floor. A man leered over you with a tray full of bloodied instruments.

Tim saw red and lunged at the torturer. He kicked the back of his knees and grabbed him by the neck before smashing him against the wall.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” He laughed maniacally. Tim glared and gripped the man’s neck tighter. It would be so easy to end him right here for what he did to you.

“You’re going to wish I killed you.” Tim threatened. This only caused the torturer to laugh harder. He looked over Tim’s shoulder and grinned.

“I don’t think your girl can wait that long.” He laughed. “I think you need to get your priorities straight, mate.” He smiled. Tim couldn’t stand the look on his face and landed a solid punch to his nose, the bones breaking underneath his fist. He collapsed onto the ground holding his bloody nose and started laughing. Tim couldn’t stand to look at him without wanting to murder him so he turned and ran to your side.

You were unconscious and horrifically battered. He made quick work of your binds and you fell slumped into his arms. Tim scooped you up into his arms, careful not to aggravated any of your wounds too much.

“Don’t worry [Y/N], I’m going to get you out of here.” He told you. You could only moan in response to your pain.

“I wouldn’t count on it, mate” Your torturer laughed. Tim wanted to kick him in the face on his way out but he had more important things now. He needed to get you help. With how pale you looked, Tim didn’t know how long you could go without medical help.

“Stay with me [Y/N].” Tim pleaded as he rushed you back to the Batcave.

“Tim.” You moaned weakly.

“I’m here [Y/N]. I’m going to get you help, alright? You’re going to get through this.” He said. He didn’t know who he was trying to convince more.

“Tim if I don’t make -” You started before you started coughing painfully.

“Don’t say that [Y/N].” Tim begged. He didn’t want to think of the possibility that you might …

“Please Tim I need you to know,” You choked out. “I love you Tim. I’m sorry we never had the chance …” You trailed off. Your eyes started to slip closed in your exhaustion.

“Hold on for just a little while longer, [Y/N]! We’re almost there. Don’t close your eyes [Y/N].” Tim demanded gripping your hand tightly, hoping that his hold would anchor you here just long enough for him to get you to safety. “Just keep talking to me, [Y/N].”

“I know this is probably … a really shitty time … but do you …?”

“I do love you, I’ve always loved you.” Tim supplied, thinking he knew where your question was heading. He didn’t realize it until that moment but he always thought of you as more than just a friend. He hated that it took you dying in his arms to finally realize it.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go to that new sushi place but I’ll take that too.” You joked weakly.

“I’ll take you there on a date as soon as you get better. A real date.” Tim promised.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

anonymous asked:

"I've never done this before."

Yuri shivers as Otabek’s hands come up to grip his sides. He’s feeling a mix of trepidation and excited anticipation. 

“I haven’t either, Yura.” Otabek’s voice sounds calm but there’s just a hint of breathlessness. “We’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” 

“I know.” Yuri breathes, as Otabek’s grip tightens right below his ribs and he feels himself being lifted. 

There’s a moment where he forgets to breathe, then he feels himself lowering; sliding down Otabek’s solid chest until their noses are level. 

They stay like that for a moment, breathing each other’s air, and Yuri almost forgets himself; leaning closer until their lips are a hair’s breadth from pressing together. 

Raucous applause startle him back into the real world, breaking them both apart, and Otabek grabs Yuri’s hand to keep him from falling to the ice. 

Victor is skating hastily toward them still clapping. “Amazing! Almost as much chemistry as a real pair skating couple!” 

Yuri bites his tongue to stop a sharp comment, and looks from Otabek’s steady gaze to where their fingers are twined together. 

 Yeah, he thinks, almost. 

Time For A Wedding!



Dean looked at his phone as it chimed. “Excuse me,” he said, turning away from the scantily-clad grad-school waitress.

The message was from Sam—an address.

Dean placed some cash on the table and went out to the Impala. He thought about calling you, but he figured Sam had also messaged you. After all, the two of you were closer than Dean and you.

Pulling up to the address, Dean found a church before him. Strange, but not unusual for Vegas or the Winchesters. He glanced around before slipping into his suit. Hand on his gun, Dean entered the church.

“Dean!” Sam approached him, pulling the gun from Dean’s hand. “Come on.” Sam pulled his brother down the aisle and placed him at the front of the room.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, looking at the two other people seated in the chapel. Were they demons? And where were you?

Sam said nothing as he pinned a flower to Dean’s jacket.

“What’s this?”

“Pink is for loyalty,” Sam said.

While that answer didn’t really tell Dean anything, he moved past it. Every fiber of his being was on high-alert. “So, what? We’re wedding crashers? Looking for a siren?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Sam shifted slightly. “Um… okay, a little sudden, but life is short, so I’ll keep this shorter. I’m in love. And I’m getting married.”

This surprised Dean. Sure, he knew you and Sam were in a nice relationship and the two of you truly cared for each other. But marriage? Really?

“Say something,” Sam said. “Like… congratulations?”


At that moment the horrible synthesizer started playing the opening chords of the wedding march. Sam and Dean turned their attention to the doors. A figure in a large white wedding dress stood, an even larger white veil covering their face.

Dean couldn’t help but think that you looked kind of pretty in the dress (though he did wonder where you got it from… it looked expensive). Glancing up at Sam, he saw his brother’s face light up with a huge smile.

Maybe this was for the best.

You approached the two and Sam carefully lifted the veil. Dean couldn’t help but think that something was… off.

Off it was.

When the veil was lifted, it wasn’t your face Dean saw under it.

It was…

“Becky?” he asked, incredibly confused.

The wedding was typical Vegas style—fast. Dean was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening and missed his opportunity to declare a reason as to why these two should not be married. He stood, dumbfounded, as Becky and Sam kissed, solidifying the marriage.

Dean watched as they took two chairs, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. The only thing Dean could think of was where were you?!

Dean tried to think of a question to ask the ‘happy’ couple. Words were tumbling around in his mind. “What the hell happened?” he finally said. “How did this happen?”

“We met… talked… fell in love,” Sam said with a smile.

“Right. Of course. What about Y/N?”

“What about her?”

‘Not good,’ Dean thought. He wondered if the two of you had had a fight he didn’t know about. But even if that was the case, Sam looked completely sober. This wasn’t a drunken mistake. “Forget it. What about the average lifespan of your hookups?”

“That’s why I’m the best choice!” Becky said. “I know all about it. I’ve read all the books.”

Dean sighed. He’d almost forgotten about those damn books Chuck had written. But books didn’t mean anything compared to the actual time you’d spent with Sam. You knew more about his life than Becky. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Dean,” Sam chided.

“Look, did you at least–”

“He checked,” Becky interrupted (Dean was really starting to hate that). “Salt, holy water, everything. I’m not a monster.” She held out her arm, showing a fresh scab over a knife wound on her arm. “Just the right girl for your brother.”

‘No,’ Dean thought. ‘The right girl is Y/N.’


With a scowl on his face, Dean watched as his brother drove off with Becky. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Dean, for the last time, I don’t want to help you hit on women at the bar.”

“Not what I’m calling about this time. Have you talked to Sam recently?”

“No. Why?”

“Are you two in a fight?”

“No. Did he tell you we were?”

“Not in so many words. But something’s… happened.”

“Excuse me? Now is not the time to be cryptic, Dean. What happened?”

“Are you at the hotel?”


“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”


“Becky?” you spat. “He… he married Becky?”

“Look, I know it’s weird, but–”

“I’m gonna kill her. And him. Her first, though. Make her suffer and make him watch.” You crossed to your bag and pulled out your blade.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean said, grabbing your wrist. “I know you’re upset. Trust me, I don’t like this any more than you do. But we need to think this through.”

“I’ve thought it through. And I want to drive my knife through her skull.”

“Look, we need to figure out what’s happening,” Dean pried the knife from your hand. “I agree, something’s up with this. But we need to understand it before we try to fix it.”

You ripped your wrist from Dean’s grasp. He saw your expression change from anger to hurt. Your jaw remained clenched, your fists balled.

“We’ll get him back, Y/N. Promise.”


To keep you occupied, Dean had you searching for cases. You stumbled upon a streak of people who had big breaks whose bodies then broke (via truck and baseball fast pitch). Dean swung by a store and picked up the first household item he found before the two of you drove off.

Sam answered the door. “Dean?”

“I’m trying to be supportive,” Dean said, holding the waffle iron out. “So… we good?”

“Uh… yeah, sure.” Sam looked behind Dean. “Y/N?”

You said nothing, just narrowed your eyes.

“Look,” Dean said, pushing past his brother. “We found a case. Guys who get a sudden turn of good luck then get killed. We’re thinking–”

“Could be a cursed object,” Becky said. Sam brushed past his brother into the back room where Becky stood pacing, a board of news articles and maps and pictures behind her.

“You’re… working the case with her?” Dean asked incredulously. He heard you growl behind him, but Dean held you back, keeping you behind him. As hot as girl fights could be, and as much as he wanted to see you pummel Becky, now was not the time.

Becky also apparently heard your growl as the smallest wave of fear crossed her face. “I don’t know why you’re so against this, Dean. Can’t you believe that we’re happy?”

“No! People’s dreams are coming true.” Dean turned to his brother, hitching a thumb toward Becky. “Doesn’t this seem a little coincidental?”

“What Becky and I have is real,” Sam said. “And if you can’t accept that… either of you,” he noted, looking at you. “That’s your problem. Not ours.”


“I went after her, Dean. Maybe that’s what’s bugging you. That I’m moving on. I don’t need you anymore in my life. That I–”

Before Dean could stop you, you ran forward, landing a solid punch to Sam’s nose. You stood there, seething, while everyone else just stared in horror. Then you brushed past Dean and headed outside.

“Nice,” Dean said, turning to follow you. “Just remember Sam. We’ve been here a lot longer than her.”


“That was quite the punch,” Dean said, leaning against the car next to you.

“I’m sorry. I just… couldn’t hold back anymore.”

“Well, it’s better you punched Sam instead of Becky. And who knows, maybe you knocked some screws loose in him and he’ll come to his senses.”

You shook your head. “I can’t do this, Dean. I can’t work this case.”

“You have to, Y/N. You can’t mope around in the hotel all day.” Dean reached down, taking your hand in his. The knuckles were bruised slightly. “Come on. Let’s fix up this mitt and call Bobby.”


Things were finally starting to make sense. But that didn’t mean you had to help Becky out of her mess.

You stayed outside, leaning against the car. Reunions… what a stupid practice. Why would anyone want to go to a party with all those stupid people you’d gone to high school with?

At that moment, Becky ran outside, screaming. “Y/N! Y/N, come quick! It’s Sam!”

You hated yourself to following her request, but… Sam. You ran in after her, finding a terrible scene. Neither Winchester was having any luck with anything.

You crept forward and grabbed Dean’s blade, driving it into the back of the guy who was force-choking Sam.

“Y-Y/N?” Sam stammered.

“Sam!” Becky cried. “You’re okay.”

The amount of effort it took to not drive the blade into Becky was astounding.

“Well, well, well,” Crowley said, appearing from the shadows. “What’s this?”

“You’re Crowley!” Becky said with glee.

“If you don’t shut your pie hole, I’m gonna stitch it shut for you,” you said.


You watched as Sam signed his name on the annulment papers before sliding them to Becky. She looked up with sad eyes.

“It wasn’t all bad, right?”

You let out another growl, but Sam held his hand up to you. The two of you still had a lot to work on (you weren’t blaming him for being put under a love spell, but you still held a little resentment and hurt… rightly so. And he still remembered the connection your fist had made with his nose) but you still held back at his signal.

“You did… save my life,” Sam said. “So for that… thanks.”

“So I’ll see you again?” Becky asked, hopefully.

“Hell no.”

“Probably not,” Sam said over you.

Becky’s shoulders sank, but she reached forward and signed the document.

The Winchesters headed out, but Becky stopped you. “Y/N… can I talk to you for a second?”

The brothers looked as if they wanted to stay. They didn’t know if they could trust you alone with Becky.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Dean stepped over to you, holding his hand out. Sighing, you put your gun in his grasp.

“And the knife.”

With a roll of your eyes, you handed over your knife. Once the brothers left, you turned back to Becky.

“Listen… I just… I hope you aren’t too mad at me…”

“Becky, you can’t expect me to be okay with what you did.”

“I know. It was wrong. But Sam is just so…”

“I know.” You shook your head. “Look. I still kind of want to punch you in the face, but… as long as you promise to never try and contact us again… I’ll leave without giving you a black eye.”

Becky twitched like a nervous Chihuahua, but she nodded. “Right. Right, of course. Again, I’m sorry.”


“Do we need to call her an ambulance?” Dean asked as you stepped up to the car.

“You do know I can control my anger, right?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Sam said. “You know I would never toy with the idea of marrying Becky in my own right mind, right?”

“I know, Sam.”

“And I want you to know, we never did anything. I mean, she did tie me to the bed, but that was because she didn’t want me to run away.”

You and Dean shared a look.

“Sam, there’s some stuff a brother doesn’t need to hear,” Dean said, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“We… we’re good…ish, right?” Sam asked, giving those damn puppy dog eyes to you.

“We can work through this, Sam. I love you.”

“And I love Becky.”

“You want another bloody nose?”

“Y/N, I’m kidding!”


tell me more about jay halstead’s past [9/∞]


Original request from a lovely anon:  Awesome! So can I request something based off of Congratulations from the cut songs of Hamilton? But instead of Angelica going off on Hamilton about him cheating, it’s the reader going off on Tony about signing an accords that put her and the rest of team cap in that inhumane underwater middle of the Atlantic prison with the rest of Cap’s team? There doesn’t have to be a ship in this (maybe Tony X Reader would fit best with the song? Or Tony and the reader are exes?). Thank you!

A/N: Alright, my dude, I got super inspired to write this and I was able to bang it out in just under 24 hours, how fkin great is that? Wait, don’t answer, I don’t know if it’s any good. Anyways! Thank you so much for sending this in! It definitely was a challenge for me, but I hope it’s angsty enough for you. ;u; The song can be found here

Pairing: TonyxReader

Word Count: 1230

Warnings: Slight language, angst

“(Y/N), I can’t ask you to do this for me.” Steve says, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to go against Tony.”

“You do realize I’m not doing this for you, right?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “I believe in this shit too. It’s bigger than all of us, and you know it.”

“You’ll be a criminal.”

“Just another thing to check off the bucket list.”


“No, Steve. I’m not backing down.” I say adamantly. “I don’t care what Tony says, he’s just gonna have to deal with the fallout of his stupid ass decision.”

Yeah. They caught us. A good portion of Steve’s team I’m stuck between Clint and Scott. Sam is right next to Wanda. Whoever’s keeping us hasn’t got any plans for us, but they’ve been cruel to the strongest of us. They’ve doped up Wanda so much that she’s still conscious, but no where near a state of cognizance. They’ve got her in a straight jacket and they’ve even stuck a shock collar on her. From what I’ve heard and seen, they’ve used it a few times too. She’s stopped moving around her cell, just sitting, complacent, against the wall.

Sam hasn’t stopped pacing since he was shoved into his cell. He fought the whole way in, quipping to the best of his ability. He even managed to land a solid punch to the nose of one of the guards. He broke the man’s nose and fractured his cheekbone before anyone could rush forward to stop him. Clint’s just sitting on his bed, unusually quiet. Scott hasn’t moved from his perch either. He’s keeping his mouth shut and his eyes forward, and it’s clear that this whole prison thing isn’t new to him. I myself have opted for laying on my bed and waiting for the inevitable eternity of living here for the rest of my miserable life.

“The futurist is here, gentleman!” Clint calls. I smack our adjoining wall. “Sorry, ladies.”

“Thank you.” I mutter, rolling over and sitting up, Tony’s entered the containment deck. I sigh and lay back down.

“As I was saying,” Clint starts again. “The futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what’s best for you, whether you like it or not.”

“(Y/N),” Tony’s voice is quiet when it reaches my ears. “(Y/N), look at me.”

“Not happening, sweetheart.” I scoff.

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ahumanfemale  asked:

Talk to me about the Barisi wedding. Because I'm sure Sonny and his huge, loud, very Italian family are treating it like one big party. Which it is. But I feel like Rafael would get emotional and overwhelmed and Sonny would have to take him aside for a quiet moment so they could just be happy together, just the two of them, in the midst of all the chaos.

Oh lawd, this reminds me of a pin that I have on my Barisi pinterest board that reads, “And in the middle of my chaos, there was you” and now I’m crying.

All I’m picturing right now is Rafael, standing off to the side, smiling softly as he watches Sonny dance with his family and twirl around his little nieces, being the most gracious host even at their own wedding.

Because Sonny worries, of course he does, about how welcome his own family will feel, whether or not they’ll truly recognize how much it means to him that they’ve showed up to support him even as he goes against everything that their faith as taught him, how much it means that he was able to marry the man of his dreams in front of them.

And Rafael doesn’t mind Sonny doing that, he knows how important it is to him to pay that gratitude towards his family, especially after how long Sonny struggled to be who he really is in their presence, and Rafael doesn’t mind standing off to the side for a little bit, even if it does get overwhelming.

That’s what the Carisi’s are, as much as Rafael honestly loves every single one of them – overwhelming.

There’s so many of them, and they’re so loud, and there’s so few of people that Rafael himself can consider his “own”, so he spends some time drifting from Lucia, Eddie, and an aunt on Lucia’s side that’d come as representatives of his own family, and the SVU squad while Sonny gets lost in the hub-bub of his family for a bit in his attempt to show his own appreciation.

And he’s at the makeshift bar set-up in the ballroom of the hotel that they’d rented for their reception, twiddling with stray napkins and toothpicks, when he looks up at sees Sonny coming towards him.

In the middle of the dancing, still raging on the ballroom floor to their right, in the middle of the loud din of those either too old to dance or too worn out from the act itself who’re occupying the tables to their left, Sonny’s found him.

His husband’s there to make him feel whole again.

He grabs Rafael’s fingers shyly as he approaches the bar, all bashful smiles and pink cheeks that Rafael’s put there, not the dancing, and he’s so in love as Sonny intertwines their fingers and asks softly, “You wanna go somewhere with me?”

Though he cocks his head, he doesn’t question it, choosing instead to trust Sonny, just as he always has, leaving his drink behind at the bar as he follows his husband out the ballroom doors and into one of the hotel’s many hallways, keeping his mouth shut and confused grin in place as Sonny finds a vacant ballroom and pulls Rafael into it.

Slowly, Sonny leads him farther into the room, gangly limbs leading him backwards so that all he sees is Sonny’s shy little grin, and he’s about to say something to his husband about how he doesn’t foresee his lack of coordination coupled with the alcohol consumption of the night playing out well in his pursuit of leading Rafael backwards, but he doesn’t get the chance before they’ve reached the dance floor and Sonny’s holding him close, whispering, “Are you having fun?”

Rafael can only furrow his brows, answer with a confused, “Of course, I am, love, it’s our wedding, how could I not–?”

Sonny shrugs, and gives a half-smile, saying, “Yeah, I know, the getting married part, that was amazing. But I know that my family’s a lot, and I’ve had to spend some time with them at this thing, too, so I just figured…”

And he trails off, leaving Rafael hanging, grasping for what Sonny possibly could be thinking when his husband pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking and flicking through it, only setting it down on the floor beside them when their first dance song starts filtering throughout the ballroom.

Rafael can’t think as Sonny extends a hand towards him, chest tighter than it’s been that entire night, tighter than it’d been earlier underneath a pillar of flowers saying, “I do”, and with all his years experience spinning arguments and testimonies, alike, the only thing he can think to say is, “We’ve already had our dance.”

Sonny smiles softly, hand still firm and offered up as he says, “Yeah, but now it’s just me and you. Like it’s always been.”

So he takes Sonny’s hand, his favorite hand, and lets himself be pulled into a solid chest.

Lets himself dig nose into neck, and be held. 

Lets himself get lost in Sonny’s gentle humming, so off-key and so lovely, because it’s his Sonny in his ear, and it’s their song that’s filling the empty room.

Lets himself just be.

It’s Rafael and Sonny, alone, their whole world contained between two sets of arms, just like it’s always been.