stop the noise get no where with your current state of mind

All I’ve got II pt. 4

Jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, ANGST, smut!!, bestfriend!jungkook

word count: 13k

Jeon Jungkook was a tall guy, handsome with all those ethereal artwork tattooed on his arms..and your best friend. He was by your side whereas you faced a painful heartbreak, caressing your hurt soul for as long as you needed him. But how much can a friendship withstand if one of the two develops feelings?

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I do not know if it's open or not (If not, sorry >w<) Can I ask for some HC for RFA + Saeran MC gets drunk and they try something like kissing / etc as always and she walks away and says something like '' I have a boyfriend / husband and I love him ''

Hahahahaha yesssss

 (i had to skip a few requests because unlike last time i was not feelin writing straight-up smut on public transport LOL)


  • The two of you had been at a house party
  • Not your usual scene, but your friends had convinced you two to go out
  • Yoosung, as the designated driver, was sober
  • But you were SMASHED
  • After dropping everyone else off you finally get home to your shared apartment, and you collapse down onto the couch, the world still spinning around you
  • You’re gone to the point that you don’t actually know where you are, and it’ll be a hell of an experience once morning comes
  • Yoosung sits down next to you, hooking an arm around you
  • You stiffen at the contact, as in your mind you’re still at the party
  • “Babe, I’m so tired~~”
  • Yoosung leans over to kiss you lazily, but you push him away as much as you can in your state
  • “mmmnO NOOO”
  • “What? What’s wrong?”
  • Yoosung looks genuinely hurt, but you don’t even really notice
  • “NOO I CANT” You try and sit up, but close your eyes when your head spins again
  • “I can’t, I have a boyfriend… mmmNooo go away I love my boyfriend”
  • Yoosung laughs, but he is actually very touched by your drunken honesty
  • He touches your cheek gently
  • “Babe, it’s me, I’m your boyfriend”
  • “nnnNNNooo, he’s a good boy”
  • “It’s me, it’s Yoosung!”
  • You eventually squint at him hard enough to recognize him
  • “Yoosung?? I thought you weren’t drinking!”
  • Yoosung prepares to explain, but glances you over again and thinks better of it
  • “But I’m here! Can I have my kiss now?”
  • You screw your eyes shut and pucker your lips, and he leans down to peck you lightly


  • You two had gone out for beer
  • And your prideful and competitive ass had challenged Zen to a drinking contest
  • And lost badly
  • He carries you back to the apartment
  • and although he hears you mumbling something into his chest he can’t make out the words
  • Once you get back he lays you down gently on the couch and lies down next to you for cuddles
  • You’re still mumbling something drunkenly, and he lifts himself up to look at you
  • Your face is buried into the cushions, and he turns you onto your side
  • “C’mon babe, make sure you can breathe”
  • He leans down to kiss you, but once his lips connect with yours he feels your arms weakly pushing him away
  • He pulls away from you, confused, and heart breaking a little
  • And what you’re mumbling suddenly becomes a little clearer
  • “N-nooooo, p-please don’t….”
  • Zen scrambles off the couch
  • “What’s wrong, babe?”
  • Your eyes struggle to focus on him, although he is but a fuzzy outline to you
  • “Please don’t… I can’t… I love my… boyfriend so… much, I can’t hurt… him like this….”
  • Zen can’t help laughing, resting his forehead on your stomach from where he sits on the floor
  • “It’s all right, princess. I understand.”
  • He leaves and comes back with a glass of water and a blanket, and tucks you in for the night
  • Although he spends the night on the floor and doesn’t leave your side for the remainder of the night



  • You two had been drinking at home
  • Or rather, you had- since Seven’s drink of choice is Dr. Pepper
  • As it were, you grievously overestimated your sobriety level, and an hour after your drinking spree you’re feeling the effects much more heavily than was expected
  • Seven has a grand old time watching you drunkenly maneuver the bunker
  • He watches without comment as you attempt to carry a conversation with Robo-Cat
  • And hastily drags you away when you start to mess with Robo-Dog
  • And waits until you’ve tired yourself out, curled up on the floor
  • “Agent 606! Wake up, Agent 606! Super duper emergency!”
  • You sit up to the best of your ability, the word “emergency” triggering some kind of primal response in your mind
  • “Whu—Emergency….”
  • “Agent 707 has not received his daily seven-hundred-and-seven kisses! He can’t go to sleep without them!”
  • Seven goes in to kiss you, but in your state of mind you push him away in confusion
  • “Nooo…. I can only give the seven hundred seven kisses to… to my… my Saeyoung…”
  • Seven keeps up the act, but on the inside he’s taken a Cupid’s arrow to the chest
  • “Oh! You’ve caught me, Agent 606! ‘Twas I, the nefarious 706! Lemme dial Agent 707~”
  • You are not amused as he makes various “beep boop” noises into a pretend “phone”
  • “I don’t want 707. I want my…. My husband Saeyoung…”
  • Seven has to stop himself from squealing or just crying on the spot
  • But he sits down in front of you and takes your hands in his
  • “Okay, baby. I’m here. Can I have my goodnight kisses now?”


  • Your nightly wine sessions were certainly a routine

  • But Jumin had a long day at work, and he was compelled to open another bottle

  • Which had led to your current situation, in which you were more of a lightweight than either of you had thought

  • You’re having trouble remembering your own name, and Jumin had placed your head in his lap as he now runs his fingers through your hair, listening to you ramble drunkenly

  • He can’t make heads or tails of what you’re actually saying, but you’re obviously very invested in it

  • He watches your brows furrow slightly, like they do when you’re talking about something very passionately

  • And as the sound of your voice fades to join the distant buzz from the wine he finds himself focusing on your lips

  • Without thinking, and a little inebriated himself, he leans down to kiss you

  • Before recoiling from a sharp sting on his cheek, as you slap him across the face

  • He looks back down at you in a mixture of shock and slight indignation

  • And he’s not usually one to swear, but there are few substitutions of the same caliber as:

  • “What the fuck?”

  • “Please, I’m married… I c… can’t do this to my husband, I –hic- love him so much…”

  • There’s a moment of stunned silence before Jumin bursts out laughing

  • “Remind me to never let you drink this much again, missy.”



  • Saeran’s not one for social drinking, so shots at home are usually the plan for evening entertainment
  • It’s well-known that you’re a bit of a lightweight, but you push yourself just a little too far this time
  • But Saeran isn’t exactly sober either, and the night is mostly spent on the couch recovering
  • You’re in his arms for a long time
  • Long enough for you to forget where exactly you are
  • After a long period of silence Saeran finally speaks, his voice gruff and his chest rumbling against you
  • “God, sometimes I forget how sexy you are when you’re drunk.”
  • You stiffen at the comment, but Saeran doesn’t seem to notice
  • Instead he tilts your chin up towards him with his finger, and captures your lips in his
  • A protest rises up in your throat, and you push him away
  • Words somehow find their way through your hazy mental state-
  • “No please, I can’t cheat on my boyfriend like this…”
  • Saeran goes stiff as a board, looking at you with heartbreak in his eyes
  • “Boyfriend?”
  • “Yes, I love him so much, I can’t do this…”
  • Saeran can’t decide if he’s angry or hurt, but before he can reach a conclusion the sound of the fridge door closing shakes you both out of your moment
  • Seven glares at the both of you, holding a can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge
  • “Would you both sober up? She’s talking about you, dumbass.”
  • As Saeran realizes what had happened he holds you tighter, and you can’t tell if his shaking is from laughter or from tears
  • “Oh my fucking god, don’t scare me like that.”
Leave This Town Pt 1 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, reader’s mother, Maria (mentioned)

Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m so excited about this series, you guys. I’ve been daydreaming about this story for months and every time I hear the song that inspired it I still get butterflies. I started this part 6 months ago and finished it, but I wasn’t ready to let it out into the world. But when @bionic-buckyb mentioned her 5k AU Writing Challenge and “mechanic” was one of the prompts, I knew it was meant to be. This story is close to my heart. I really hope you like it. Any feedback is appreciated. <3

Part One   Part Two>>> 

Leave This Town Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist


Originally posted by lifegoesonasusual

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse.
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out.

Cause if we don’t leave this town,
We might never make it out
I was not born to drown.
Baby, come on.

Those first few hours of freedom were absolute bliss! Flying down the highway with the windows down, music blasting as you sang at the top of your lungs. It was everything you had dreamed of. You did it. You were out. You had quit your job, cashed out your life savings, bought a cheap but reliable car, and hit the road without looking back.

All was going according to plan. That is, until 4 hours later your car started to smoke and sputter, compelling you to pull to the side of the road for fear of dying in a ball of fire. There wasn’t anything you could do at the moment, what with it being 2am at the time. Thankfully, it was the middle of summer so sleeping in your car wasn’t too uncomfortable, at least at night.  

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anonymous asked:

Andreil meet when they get dragged into a bar fight and somehow end up in jail together 😇

When it comes to fight or flight, Neil has spent almost all of his life picking the latter. Except on an exy court, but even there, if he can get away from someone without getting hit, that is definitely the option he’s going with.

Which is why when he finds himself getting dragged away from a brawl, cuffed, tossed in the back of a police car, and driven to jail, it feels a little bit surreal.

He doesn’t even drink. He was at the club in the first place because Matt turned twenty-six at midnight and wanted to celebrate at a night out with all his friends. Most of them were drunk. Neil was not.

So he doesn’t have that as an excuse.

Still: his causes were noble, even if his actions weren’t. And his personal moral philosophy has always been strictly on the side of “ends justify the means,” especially if the ends are keeping his drunk best friend from getting robbed on the floor of a nightclub by a couple of guys twice Neil’s size.

Matt is pretty good in a fight most of the time, but drunk and concussed, he’s not much help. Neil took on all three of the guys on his own anyway—his job being, after all, at least partially just fighting people—and was about to lose very badly when a stranger joined in.

Neil didn’t expect the stranger to be on his side. The stranger was.

And now they’re in the back of a cop car together.

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A Blue CatAstrophe!

Lance isn’t missing, he’s right there. It was an accident, how he’d ended up ‘missing’, but Blue said that there should be some cure for this. He wished he was human again, so he could comfort his team with the knowledge that he wasn’t dead. But no, he’s a cat, and the only way to make sure they smile is to knock all the pens to the ground, chase some string, and occasionally wake up his crush and idol up from a nightmare and almost get smacked across the room by accident. Well, okay, that last one had to be mended since he was apparently a good stress reliever if you ran your hands down his back… too bad it wouldn’t happen if he was a human. So, for now, he’ll deal with being a brown and darker brown swirled tabby kitten for just a little bit longer. Purrrrrrrr…..

A Cat Au, where Lance becomes a cat and hell ensues.

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A/N: aye! this is my very first imagine posted on tumblr and tbh I’m very!! excited!! (my friend came up with this idea and I though it was pretty cute so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) (also, the ‘technicalities’ with the fracture I found on google, so I apologise if its not very accurate!!)

(also this is a repost bc I’m an idiot and didn’t post it to my primary gah)

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: breaking your leg accidentally? two implied swear words? mainly just a whole lotta fluff!1!!

word count: 4.7k (go big or go home)


Originally posted by seabasschino

The crease between your eyebrows grew as your scowl deepened. You glowered intensely at the cast that entrapped your leg, confining you to the bed unable to move  without a sharp pain creeping up your body. A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you shifted slightly, helplessly attempting to find a somewhat comfortable position given your impending circumstances. Huffing, you threw your head backwards onto the pillow, glaring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights that were beginning to contribute to a painful headache mumbling incoherencies under your breath. However, despite your current predicament you couldn’t help but let a small smile adorn your lips as you thought back to the morning’s events involving a certain brooding soft super-soldier.

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Mission Bad Boy | 12

Plot: What if you could win 100,000 Won by giving someone a makeover? But here’s the catch – you have 6 months to turn a nerdy, anti-social male into the school’s biggest heartthrob.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst, Highschool au!

Warnings: bullying, verbal abuse, physical abuse, mild sexual harassment

Notes: Guys this is getting seriously out of hand. GIF ISN”T MINE! CREDIT GOES TO RIGHTFUL OWNERS. 4k Words

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It had been a week since you were left alone, and in just one week, everything had gone downhill.

Namjoon took any chance he got to hurt you, whether it be verbally, or physically. There were times in class where he would passive-aggressively comment on your abilities. He would trip you over every time you made your way into the classroom, and if you ever bumped into him, he would scowl and walk away with his friends.

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Inheritance | Pt.5

Pairing: Yoongi x reader
hybrid!au, fluff, smut (later later),
none in particular
I wish this didn’t take so long to get out, considering it’s not that long. This is a miniseries, so there’s only going to be one or two more parts. It’s the next one, I think???? where things begin to heat up! Keep sending in what you want to see happen between MC and Yoongi!! I may or may not be preparing something extra… ;o)

After your grandmother passed she left everything to you. Her house, her fortune, and apparently… her cat? The grumpy male hybrid you encounter at her house is anything but the tame housecat you’d expected to find. Fulfilling your grandmother’s last request to look after him becomes a lot harder when he seems to be avoiding you, and your dissatisfied relatives start stirring up trouble.

Originally posted by nevermindmyg

Masterlist || Prev. | Next

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just let the waves guide us...

Just some post wedding intimacy on the Jolly Roger, because I just couldn’t help myself and I woke up with a much needed desire to write… 

His dream is like a wave, cresting and crashing as it heads towards the shore, sand and shells churning in its wake but never quite hitting the beach before it recedes. When he wakes, frustration still bubbles at the edges of his consciousness as his fingers dig into the mattress beside him where his new bride should be. He blinks his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the candles he’d scattered around the room after their nuptials now all pools of hardened wax. Pushing back the coverlet, he crosses to an old trunk and pulls out a pair of old linen pants, not wanting to go in search of Emma in his current state of undress.

He finds her quite easily, but allows himself a moment to take her in. The complicated braid she’d worn earlier has fallen loose, allowing golden tendrils to dance in the breeze along with the worn fabric of his sheet she’s wrapped around her like a cloak. She could be mistaken for a spectral, or an angel, some benevolent spirit come to grant his every wish and guarantee a lifetime of happiness.

But something has drawn her from his bed on their wedding night and he aches to soothe whatever might be troubling her mind. So, he crosses to her quietly, making enough noise to be certain she hears his approach. She turns with a smile as he draws near enough to touch, easing a bit of his nerves as he draws his hand around her waist and presses a kiss to her temple.

“Hello, my wife.”

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Bad Match Part 11

Series Summary: Bucky and the Reader are set up on a date, but things don’t go as well as expected.  

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words Count: 2.9k

Warnings: angst, betrayal, self-loathing, if you squint your eyes you see some fluff, bad english.  

A/N: Shall we have a different POV of the last events?  

Feedback? Please!!!!

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 


So soft.

Your skin felt so soft under the graze of his fingers tracing slow circles on your back. The slow movement of your ribcage pacing your breathing signalizing your slumber.

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Cole’s interview for Boys by Girls Magazine, part 1

((Sorry for every mistake and typo, it’s 1:30am and i’m tired af but wanted to rewrite this so to read and also for you - if someone hasn’t read it yet. Enjoy!))

As the water runs politely through the river, painting every rock it meets along the way - the sounds of the city become distant memories weare happy to part from. A shift in the state of mind. Vancouver, tucked away in its own corner, is the current home of actor Cole Sprouse, as he films the second season of TV drama ‘Riverdale’, returning this October. As we escape with Cole for a day, somewhere in the woods, noise turns to pockets of quiet.Imagine growing up with all eyes pointing in your direction - watching and judging every step you take, thinking they know who you are. Then imagine that this image is nothing but a distorted interpretation of half-truths. Living in the public eye forces you to see every shade of yourself through a magnifying glass. What would this do to your mind? This is something I’m curious about before I catch up with Cole sinc our last encounter. He greets me with the biggest hug, 'welcome to Vancouver!’. 'Welcome to your shoot, Cole.’ We all need ways to escape our noise, and for Cole, this had always been to escape into nature. So for a few moments, we escape together. WIth packed sandwiches in our bags, away from Cole’s hectic filming schedule, we find a moment to quietly re-connect. We ponder upon the juxtapositionof silence versus noise, how to deal with and balance it, and the importance of both to co-exist.

It is an honest Cole that chats away in the car. As we get further away from the city, the trees get closer and closer to each other, till they hug like old lovers refusing to let go. We start to breather a little slower. Our conversatin continues our last, and we dive deeper into his story. This is a different Cole than the image many might have of him as a child star - reflected, authentic, entertaining and empathetic. Now emerging as a passionate artist - this is a voice I find inspiring.Aswe leave, we take a moment to stop and breather in the space, let the trees embrace us and the sound of the viw fill up our spaces till all that’s left is silence. Moments like these, free to store in a little jar - ready to be taken out whenever they’re needed again. Perhaps this is the secret to life; knowing that when the sounds get louder, we can all find ways to escape and stock up on whatever it is that allows us to slow down. Today it is these woods and this river.

We last spoke just before you were about to start filming the first season of 'Riverdale’, and both you and I were really curious about how it would affect you going back into acting. How has it been for you?

When my brother and I were put into the industry, we were eight months old. We were living with our single other at the time, who didn’t have a great personal source of income. She had two identical twin boys, and my brother and I were an entry into and industry whose child labour laws only allowed babies to work for one or two hours a day. As we looked exactly the same, we used that to make ouselves money. It was very much a business and a method of survival. It was something I could’t differentiate from the ups and downs of the poverty we were encroaching and pulling ourselves away from with every job. It wasn’t an art - when I was young it was something I only associated with how we were going to continue to eat. For years we operated on this scheme - we’d be pulled out of school to work, and I had a hard time acting out of passion, joy and artistry, or from a place of understanding and emapthy. With my return to 'Riverdale’ I felt very conflicted about my previous understanding of the industry, and I needed to find a desperate redefinition if I was going to be able to continue to stomach this business. Now with the success of the show - it’s pleasing, because it’s very much my own agency now, and I’ve had the opportunity to feel accomplished on my own accord. There is a tremendousvalidation in playing a part that people really enjoy - and I can understand that now after educating myself, and finding that new definition.

Your story is so unique; getting into the industry at eight months old and growing up in the public eye. How does that impact a young mind, and how has it shaped the person you are today?

When you’re sold to the public as a child commodity in the form of entertainment, you are associated with a sort of Peter Pan-like state consistently. When you age and come to terms with yourself, you start to mature and develop a more advanced, sexual understanding of yourself simultaneously  as you’re experiencing these complicated identity crises - you’re trying to either conform or repel the world around you. To have this strict, immature identity consistently associated with you, as you are maturing at an extremely fast pace, is something that can really destroy a young mind. Because ut’s no small identity crisis, and entertainment has historically shown it can be the destruction of many child actors. I believe the cause is a consistent immaturity or a sort of laughable state of being, where many people feel they’re not taken seriously, even as they are becoming human or much more human than the childlike immortality they were brought up within. In order to desperately reclaim their maturation, I think a lot of young stars will rebel in extreme ways; sexual ways, drug use - as an attempt to not only convince the audience that they have these feelings of torment, which are often associated with a kind of a maturation and a deep meditation of self, but also to prove to themselves that they can be mature. No man is an island, and when your society is telling you: 'You’re this thing, you’re this thing, you’re this thing’, there are times when you - even if you don’t identify with it - can believe that they might be right. It becomes a really dangerous and lonely identity, and that loneliness causes people to swerve around violently in an attempt to reclaim themselves.I have the benefit of having someone who went through the exact  same experiences, with whom I could reference the ideas and complicated understanding of myself I was experiencing. There is a dangerous loneliness that exists within child stardom, but I had my brother going through it with me. For men, it is a very different experience than for a female child star, whose existence is inherently more sexualised and complicated. Men experience a different form of sexualisation, which I still believe is nowhere near the gravity of the female experience. When I was younger I dealt with a lot of that, and there was also the notion that you are essentially running the ship of a project when you’re quite young and inexperienced. You lack the wisdom that comes with age, and because you’re given this position of pwer whilst being so much younger, there lies the ability to slip into an arrogance and hubris that made me, when I was younger, become wuite a little dickhead. There was a period of my early career where I was super arrogant and cocky. Then the anxiety of  experiencing puberty had me self-reflect on my own arrogance and what that might mean, and I was able to turn it around. All the baggage of a child workforce in entertainment, I was able to unpack and analyse through education, which my brother and I had chosen for ourselves after the show. It is undoubtedly one of the primary reasons for the way we turned out, as something we believe to be healthy.

The rest will be here tomorrow!


Summary: In which you’re nervous and Bucky is there to help you calm down.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 993

A/N: For @avengerstories , it was so weird not having you edit this but I wrote it last night for you and wanted it to be a surprise.

Originally posted by hurtbymanyblogs

Bucky is calling your name but you can’t move. Fear and anxiety prevent you from doing so.

“Y/N, where are you?”

You press your body further against the wall, unintentionally knocking over a shoebox in the process. As it falls with a loud thud, you close your eyes and cross your fingers. Hopefully Bucky was too far away to hear that. Seconds tick by without any sign of him and you think that you’re in the clear. Just as this thought crosses your mind, the door in front of you is pulled open, bathing you in an unwanted stream of light.

“Doll, why are you in the closet?”

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Diabolik lovers [Kino‘s CD drama: para selene] ~translation|traducción~

Summary: The heroine loses her memories, and the boy tries to bring them back. 
Por cierto, eso que tiene Kino en su boca se llama Kompeitou, en realidad son dulces xD A qué son extraños, verdad?

Track 1: Daily routine - Rutina diaría. 
Track 2: At the other side of the Eclipse - Al otro lado del Eclipse.
Track 3: Pain and memories - El dolor y los recuerdos.
Track 4: No matter how many times - No imports cuantas veces.
Track 5: The meaning of “love” - El significado del amor.

TRACK 1: Daily routine

*videogame sounds*

Kino: Yeah! With this *he presses the buttons harder*
Kino: Yeeey~! I win, too bad for you.

*Music changes*

Kino: Ehhh? What does that mean? Were you letting me play with the intention of losing at the end?
Kino: Mmm, if you were thinking to lose from the very beginning, then I won without winning. That’s boring for me.
Kino: I don´t need a whole speech if you are going to apologise. Ahh, something like going easy in a game against me.
Kino: Hm, it can’t be helped *he comes close*
Kino: Heheh, “What’s wrong?” you say… We are going to play a punishment game, isn’t it obvious?
Kino: That’s right, you lost against me. Mm, that’s why~ what kind of punishment should I give you~?
Kino: Which one would you like? As I thought, would you like that I suck your blood?

*She answers*

Kino: Even if you say that you don’t want any… I can’t leave it just like this.
Kino: *In her ear* Because… this is funny for me… fufu.
Kino: *He gets away from her ear* Even you like things that feel good, don’t you? You like me because I make you feel good with my fangs, right?
Kino: So there is no problem. That’s why… *He pushes her down*
Kino: Fufu, is good to look at you from above, we’ll start the punishment like this.
Kino: To begin with… *Kisses* What a good expression you make. At this rate I feel like piercing you with my fangs.
Kino: Could it be that you thought that I was going to suck your blood? If I did, then it wouldn’t be a punishment, would it?
Kino: If I didn’t do things you dislike, then it wouldn’t be a punishment.
Kino: That’s why I’ll do this… I’ll touch veeery lightly your skin with my lips… *kisses*

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I’ll Stay

Just another Drarry thing I wrote because @theperksofbeingatotalnerd gives amazing prompts that I can’t seem to be able to not write

It was a bad idea. It was a terrible idea. But Pansy was handing him a new shot, his week had been awful and Potter was looking indecently edible from the other side of the crowded bar in his dark red t-shirt and black pants, which did nothing to placate the fire in Draco’s stomach pit, a fire that could rival with the one that his last vodka shot had burned through his throat.

He should say no. He could still refuse the little glass Pansy held in front of him and go home, pretend he never saw Potter there and that he definitely didn’t care. But then Potter looked at his way, all strong jaw and deep green eyes. Draco downed his second shot.


He wasn’t sure anymore if the heat he was feeling was due to the alcohol in his veins or the pair of eyes that seemed to follow him all night. He could feel them every time he turned to the bar or when he talked to Pansy (who was becoming rapidly tired of trying to pry his attention from another person) but, once he looked at Potter, the man was always talking to somebody else or not even facing him.

“Draco, you’re not hearing a single thing I’m saying. Again.” His friend complained next to him.

“I’m sorry, Pans. I think I’ve drank my limit and I’m really tired so-”

“Just go talk to him, Draco. He hasn’t taken his eyes of you all evening and neither have you.” She said, a fond (although a bit exasperated) smile etching her features.

Draco was shocked for a moment, but his eyes still roamed to where Potter was standing, nursing what seemed like a glass of firewhiskey in his hand while talking to the Weasel.    

“Don’t be daft, Pansy. He doesn’t…” He trailed off when he saw the girl dressing her jacket. “What are you doing?”

Pansy rolled her shoulders once and pulled at the lapels of the black leather jacket. Getting on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair lightly, a gesture she knew that wasn’t welcome.

“I’m going home, darling. And you are going to get over there and talk with the object of your dirty dreams.” She winked.

He did wish Potter only frequented his dirty dreams. That would be easy to explain. Him appearing in his daydreams however…

“Pansy, don’t you dare leave me he-”

With a pop, his friend was gone and Draco was left leaning on the counter, slightly tipsy (not enough to cloud his better judgement, but definitely enough for him not to risk losing a limb if he tried to apparate) and staring dumbly at the spot Pansy had occupied a few seconds ago. She couldn’t be serious about Potter, right? Just because they were partners now, it didn’t mean the gorgeous git actually wanted to… to what? Snog him? Fuck him? Date him?

Yeah, right Draco. The blonde thought to himself. That only happens in your regular dreams.

Still, there was something keeping Draco from going home right that instant. He couldn’t quite place it, though. He wasn’t sure if it was the tiredness he felt, like he didn’t have the energy to stand on his own slightly wobbly legs, or if it was the tingling he felt all over his body whenever Potter was near him. It was quite strange. The feeling of having all his body radiating heat but still feel like he couldn’t walk away even if he wanted to.

The problem was… Pansy be damned but she was right. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Not when Potter was still there, so near but oh so painfully far away from Draco’s reach.

And so, he asked for another firewhisky. And he stayed.


Ok, he was officially pissed. Pansy had left an hour ago and in that hour alone Draco had drank three more glasses of firewhisky and two tequila shots. All of those, allied to the few more drinks he had had with his friend, left the blonde in a quite unsteady state and feeling like in a haze. All his thoughts kept rushing to the front of his mind, one in front of the other, crashing and tumbling back to his subconscient, only to repeat the motion over and over again. Draco felt like he couldn’t grasp any of them, like trying to catch water only to have them sliding through his fingers. He wasn’t, however, drunk enough to not realize what those thoughts were about. Or rather, who.

Well, it was all Potter’s fault anyway. The specky git and his stupid kindness, and the stupid unkept black bird’s nest that he called hair, and his stupid gorgeous body, and the stupid sexy laugh that warmed his heart, and the stupid soft voice every time he says good morning when he arrives (late obviously) to their office. And… and… and the simple and easy way he made Draco fall head over heels for him.

Now, here he was, utterly drunk and still unable to look away from Harry Potter, that was currently…

Wait. Where was he? He was just there, right next to Longbottom and talking to Lovegood. Draco remembered because he had been wondering how someone could look so stunning leaned casually on a table and-

“Hi, Draco.”

The Slytherin jumped from his booth, head snapping to his left, from where the heavy voice had come. Green bright eyes met him and he found his mouth dry, throat working soundlessly at the sight in front of him.

“I… I was over there and… and I saw you here by yourself so I thought I might come and offer you a drink?” Harry stuttered, a light red staining his cheeks. Draco wondered why Harry wouldn’t just take his shirt off if he was feeling so hot.

Trying to stay calm and work through the Gryffindor’s words, he stretched his hand to get hold of the counter, aiming for a more relaxed position. However, in his alcohol induced state, he failed the counter rather spectacularly, his weight sending him tumbling straight to the floor.

Suddenly, Draco felt strong arms circling his waist, keeping him from falling face-front with the floor. Next thing he knew, he was being gently pulled into a vertical position again and he found himself staring at the curve of the raven’s neck, hands planted in the broad chest.

It all happened too fast. The skin under his long fingers was warm, even with the fabric separating them; the remains of man’s cologne and firewhisky couldn’t mask the musky unique scent of Harry, that washed over Draco’s senses leaving him even more unstable and with his head spinning; the desire of burying his face in the Gryffindor’s neck became almost unbearable and he could almost swear that the arms holding him tightened for a flick of a second. Only if he could…

“Malfoy?” The voice was soft, a calm question but the blonde was so absorbed in his new-found desire of tasting the bronzed skin in front of him that the sound of his name was quickly lost in the noise around them.

“Draco?” He asked again, this time a bit more questioningly. At the sound of his first name leaving Harry’s lips, the Slytherin was finally able to shake out of his stupor, finally looking up to meet the green eyes that searched his face. ”I’m going to let you go now, ok?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to scream it. He wanted to stay just a bit longer held by the strong arms that circled him, losing himself wondering how would it be to be held like this every day. He couldn’t however. So, gathering whatever was left of his dignity, he stepped back, out of the other’s embrace. Clearing his throat, Draco finally spoke:

“I’m fine, Potter. Err… Thank you. The floor was… slippery.”

The arched eyebrow that Potter exhibited told him that he didn’t believe him for a second.

“I am perfectly able to stand on my one, Potter. It’s not my fault people spill their drinks to the floor.”

“The only person in this spot was you all night, Malfoy. And you didn’t spill any drink, much to my surprise.” He argued, eyebrow still in place.

“Why, Potter, you’ve been watching me that intently?” Draco tried to make his heart not to stop at the idea.

Harry’s cheeks became crimson for the second time that night and he spluttered a little before being able to form a coherent answer.

“I just meant… you were here since I arrived and the floor isn’t wet.”

Draco looked at the floor, realizing how dry it was. Not even Longbottom would slip there. “Oh. Right.” He mumbled, scratching his head and still looking down, a bit lost.

Harry must have taken pity on him, because he just chuckled (Merlin, even his chuckle is sexy, Draco thought to himself) and waved a hand dismissively.

“Look, Draco, it’s fine. I just came here to ask if you wanted to have a drink with me but it’s pretty obvious you’ve had your fair share of them tonight.”

Oh, this was not good. The blonde could already feel his drunk brain preparing to do something really stupid and really, really reckless. And wasn’t that saying something considering who he was talking to.

“Don’t make assumptions about me, Potter.” He almost spat.

“I wasn’t! Besides, there’s nothing wrong in drinking a little too much some-”

“I’ll take you up in that offer.” Draco interrupted, not giving it a second thought.

“You… You what?”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. He could still ask the bartender to let him use the floo to call Pansy. He should just leave.

“I’ll have a drink with you.”

But he had been making all the wrong choices all evening. Why stop now?

Harry’s eyebrows shot in bewilderment, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. Nonetheless, he signalled the bartender, asking for two more glasses of the wizarding drink. He looked at Draco once again, still the same expression etching his features. His bloody gorgeous features.

“Draco, are you sure? It’s fine if you want to call it a night.”

“I already told you I’d have a drink with you. Besides, I haven’t drank that much yet.” Ok, he was lying. But it wasn’t his fault anyway. Not when Harry’s eyes were finally set on him. Only him. Also, the sound of his name leaving the Gryffindor’s mouth still made funny things to his stomach. “I’ll stay.”


 The moment the words had left his lips, Draco had thought he made the wrong decision. But then Harry had smiled. A slow, tentative smile painting his filled lips, that quickly turned into a full force grin and oh, oh Draco was so lost. He would never know why the prospect of a few more minutes of talk and drinking with him would make Harry so happy. So wonderfully bright. But he wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t complaining then, and he isn’t complaining now, as the gryffindor talks about everything and nothing at all. He can’t quite catch everything the man is saying. His alcohol drenched brain doesn’t allow him to. He doesn’t care either. Watching Harry so loose and carefree is enough. He doesn’t even care about the fact that he had embarrassedly admitted he actually enjoyed watching those cartoon muggle movies with his cousin. What were they called? Kidney? Fisney? Oh, yeah, Disney!

No. He really can’t regret the moment he decided he would stay.

Only if the man in front of him would let it be forever…

The blonde shook his head, trying to vanish the wildling thoughts in it, but he quickly stopped as the world swayed in front of him. He was starting to have troubles staying up right. He just hoped Harry wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to leave yet.

“Are you ok, Draco? I think you’ve really drank your limit.”

Nice moment to stop being oblivious, Potter.

“I’ve told you I’m fine.” Draco managed to assure, although he finally pushed the glass away from him.

The man considered him for a moment before seeming to decide it wasn’t worth the fight and launching himself in the conversation as easily as he slipped out of it. Draco was able to focus on what he was saying. For about thirty seconds. Soon, he found that not having a drink to cradle between his fingers left his hands free to touch anything. He started by intertwine his fingers, willing to keep his hands still. He looked at Harry’s face once again and he noticed the man was still rambling about something he wasn’t really hearing. However, his eyes quickly focused on the movement of the red lips. Well, not exactly the movement but rather how much he would like to run his thumb across the bottom lip and maybe his tongue after. Then his eyes followed the sharp line of the jaw, covered by a light stubble that he wondered how it would feel rasping his skin. But where he truly lost it, was when his eyes skimmed the broad chest that he had been held against just an hour ago. His brain was to foggy, his hands were free without him even noticing it and the desires he’d been trying to contain for months now hit him full force.

Shaky fingers left the safety of the counter in front of him and Draco stretched his arm, his fingertips softly colliding with Harry’s chest in a feather caress, only the tissue separating they’re skins. The man’s breath hitched (when had he stopped talking?) and soon the Slytherin’s hand was completely flattened above the raven’s muscles. Draco didn’t think Harry was even breathing.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He should step back and flee away from there. Except, his brain didn’t want to. He didn’t want to. The only thing that mattered was the man in front of him, the warm skin beneath his and the fact that he was desperately in love with Harry Potter and he had to be drunk to even admit it to himself. He was crazy, he was out of his mind. It was a weakness.

But Harry had always been his weakness.

And the touch was so personal. So intimate. He would hate Draco in the morning. Hell, he would hate himself if he was able to remember it. However, touching him so closely right now made him wonder…

“… how would it be to be close to you.” Draco whispered. He didn’t realize the words weren’t said in the privacy of his own mind.

Harry gasped, and Draco was able to feel it through his hand. It felt wonderfully. He was still dozy from the feeling when he felt the man in front of him step forward and circle his waist with a strong arm, pulling him closer. All too suddenly, the gryffindor’s face was right beside his, barely touching him but not quite. Draco shivered as the lips he had been admiring a few moments before brushed his ear in a quiet whisper.

“Will you dance with me?”

Draco could only nod.

It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Because there was no way that the Saviour, the Boy-Who-Lived, his long-time crush, was holding him through the crowd as they made their way to the dance floor. Once they arrived, had the centre of it, bodies dancing all around them and the music ringing in his ears, Harry held him even closer, their fronts completely flushed together. Wobbly legs, that Draco couldn’t blame on alcohol anymore, did little to support his weight and so he let Harry hold him, not sure he could stand on his own. Harry started to sway and move against him, taking Draco with him and, bloody hell, they might never talk again after tonight but for now… for now Draco had this and Merlin be damned if he was letting go of it.

Dancing with Harry was surprisingly easy. The man knew how to move (Well, what a shock! The git was good at everything.) and the confidence with which he swayed his hips against Draco’s could rival the one he had while riding a broom. Damn, it was intoxicating. Draco knew what he wanted to ride after seeing that. Harry held him song after song, leading them and humming lightly. They’re eyes never met, though. Their cheeks remained pressed all the time, their breaths damping the hairs next to their ears although none of them talked. After some time, Harry started to show the first signs of fatigue. His breaths were coming out sharper and they were dancing slower than the beat of the song. Draco was also starting to feel the effects of the night and the alcohol on his body, his head becoming hard to hold upright. So, since nothing would actually make him regret this tomorrow, he lowered his head onto Harry’s shoulder, his lips dangerously close to the man’s neck. One movement from him and he could suck a purple bruise into the dark skin. The raven, on the other hand, faltered a step when he felt the blonde’s head on him, and he really must have been tired because he was angling his hips slightly away. The Slytherin however, was not ready to let it end already so, summoning the last of his strengths he pulled Harry back to him and…


Mother of Merlin.

Potter had an erection. Harry was hard. He was hard while dancing with Draco. He was hard because of Draco. He wanted Harry for ages and Harry wanted him back.

“Shit.” Harry gasped, closing his eyes as their hard-ons rubbed together. “Draco, I-“

The man lost his ability to speak when moist lips made contact with the warm skin of his neck, an angry red hickey already being formed between Draco’s teeth. Once he let go of the skin, his tongue lapped the same spot he had just marked.


Draco didn’t even hesitate. “Get us out of here.”

“Draco, I don’t think you should-“

“Now, Potter.”

Obeying, probably for the first time in his life, Harry took his hand and tugged him all the away to the door, only sparing a moment to throw some galleons into the counter to pay for the drinks. When they finally made it through the door, they were both breathless and Draco’s fingers were itching to touch Harry again. He launched himself at him, only the wall keeping them from falling to the cold floor. In that moment, with Harry’s back against a brick wall and Draco’s front glued to him, they stopped. Their lips were hovering millimetres away and the blonde knew that, if that gap disappeared, there was no turning back. It only took him a glance at the bright green iris, almost inexistent because of the blown pupils, to make his decision. He closed the remaining distance between them.

Harry’s moan the moment their lips touched made Draco feel goosebumps all over his skin. The raven kissed him like he was drowning and Draco was air, it was amazing! Better than Draco had ever imagined. It felt so natural, like they had been kissing for years now. He knew that this would probably be over before the morning arrived, because Harry might want him, but Draco wanted all of him, so he let himself enjoy everything he could while he had it.

All too soon, the Gryffindor was gently pulling away and running his thumb through the blonde’s cheek bone, watching him so intently Draco could see the fire in his eyes.

“Merlin, you’re beautiful. I’m so sorry I never told you.” Harry whispered.

“Please.” Draco whimpered “Take me home.”

“I… I don’t know where you live.” He answered, confusion marking his features. Draco rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

“Yours. Take me with you.”

“But I…”

“Harry, please.” He pleaded while sucking a new bruise in the other’s collar bones.

“Ah, shit. Hold on to me.”

Draco was more than happy to obey. Harry tighten his grip on him and apparated them straight to his flat. Draco only had a moment to take in the dark hall where they were before his legs lost all the strength they had left. Apparition seemed not to be a good idea for someone as drunk as he was. Harry, always being the saviour, caught him before his knees even hit the dark wood floor. Suddenly, it all felt so surreal that Draco giggled. And once he started he couldn’t stop. He laughed as Harry hoisted him up, shaking his head with a fond smile playing on his lips. He was still laughing, his full body leaning on Harry for support, when the man crouched without a warning, picking up the slender man easily in a full bridal style. Draco squealed in surprise and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck when he started to move.

“Potter!” He hissed “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to bed” He answered promptly, kissing the small pout in Draco’s bottom lip. “Someone, which means you, drank too much tonight. You can barely stay upright, and I saw how much you had drank with Pansy before I arrived. Not to mention the hysterical laugh.” He smirked.

“So, you were watching me all night.” Draco drawled smugly while Harry pushed the bedroom door open with his foot.

The raven sighed sadly, and Draco frowned, suddenly worried.

“Draco, I’ve been watching you since we were eleven. And since you stepped into our now shared office with your irritating pride and confidence and that beautiful face. You have me since that day.”

“Wha- Harry, I… What do you mean?”

The Gryffindor snapped his fingers, and Draco watched as the blanket in the man’s bed backed up, revealing clean, white linen where he lowered Draco carefully. He had to admit it felt good to finally lay down in a comfortable bed. Harry made to step back but the blonde grabbed his wrist, not letting him move anyway further.

“Where are you going?” Draco asked desperately. It didn’t make any sense.

“To the living room, so you can sleep. You’re going to have a major headache tomorrow.” Harry answered neutrally, not quite meeting his eyes. It pained Draco, feeling him so distant when moments before he had him so impossibly close.

“Why?” He pushed, unable to keep the hurt from his voice. Bloody alcohol and its ability for making him such a sappy mess. “Aren’t you going to have me?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to his at that, wide and disbelieving. “I would never do that in the state you’re in Draco. You can’t make your own choices like that. You don’t really want this.”

“You’ll always be my choice, Harry.”

None of the man dared to breathe. They both stared into each other’s eyes, grey into green and green into grey, both searching for something that none of them knew if it was there.

Harry eventually sat in the edge of the bed, close enough to Draco’s hips that he could feel the waves of warm coming from his skin. He rubbed a hand through his face, sighing. When he finally looked again to the grey eyes, Draco could see the indecision swimming in the green. The hand that had previously rubbed so vigorously his face, hovered a little above Draco’s before cupping his cheek oh, so lovingly, and brushing a thumb through the soft marble skin. Harry lowered himself so they were face to face, the blonde’s head still comfortably nested in a pillow. Their lips brushed, as if the raven was asking for permission, and Draco nodded, just once. The kiss was chaste and brief, nothing like the one they had shared outside the crowded club, but it still warmed him inside.

“If you don’t hate me in the morning, we’ll talk. Yeah?” Harry whispered, just a little bit above Draco’s lips.

“Yeah.” Draco breathed, too tired to ask any more questions. They could wait for the morning.

When Harry made to leave again, the Slytherin combed a hand through the black mess in his head and looked straight into his eyes, shaking away the tiredness he felt so Harry could see how much he wanted it.

“Stay.” He pleaded.

The man wavered for a moment before making up his mind.

“Ok. I’ll stay.”

Harry tucked himself under the blanket and pulled Draco against him. “Forever if you’ll have me.”

“I do.”

Shed Your Skin

Originally posted by kylogue

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

A/N: I am shamelessly in love with this story line, even though the writing may not be perfect and I’m really nervous about it. There is a part 2 already posted. This was always designed specifically to be multi-part, I’ll explain that more in the note on part 2. No spoilers.

P. S. This isn’t a Bughead fic by any means so I didn’t tag it as such (I’m sorry, guys), but the pairing is included in part

Summary: Being a newly inducted Serpent comes with unforseen benefits for Riverdale’s most poetic soul, like cool jackets and … personal bodyguards???

Word Count: 3,226

Warnings: gang activity, swearing, drug mentions, (Bughead angst, if that counts as a warning.)

Keep reading

True Family

Writer - @harry-hook-me (myself)

Request - @woahtatyana

Disclaimer - I do not own any of the Descendants characters or scenes from the movies, all credits goes to the creators and producers of Disney’s descendants.

Summary - Y/n, Harry, Uma and Gil hate it at Auradon and decide to wreak havoc so they can go back to the Isle, in the process Y/n finds out some big news which stresses her out but helps her realize she truly is evil.

Warnings - swearing, bad behaviour (if that it even a warning)

Originally posted by ouatandtlosfanboy

It’s been five weeks since me, Harry, Uma and Gil left the Isle and arrived at Auradon, and every second I’ve hated. This place is just totally the opposite of us. Pastel, pretty and full of perky princesses and dumb princes. Were pirates for god sake, we belong on the sae, not at some school for the goodies.

Keep reading

Requester: Anonymous

Prompt: Hi! Idk if your taking request but I’d want one with Bill where the reader gets raped and runs home/calls Bill and he comforts her etc (u don’t have to do it if u don’t want to ik it’s a different kind but it’s something that I’ve been through)

Warning: Rape (not described though)

Note: I’m so sorry to hear that anonymous :( I hope your okay and you still are happy even though that has happened to you. Also to the many others who have been raped I’m so sorry and I hope your living your life despite such a traumatizing experience.

Originally posted by dynode

Originally posted by jessicamaccormackrmack

You smiled as you looked yourself over in the mirror. You had on a tee promoting the movie you were going to see with your friend and black jeans with converses. You weren’t much into showing off your body, especially since you were insecure so you usually liked to hide your shape.

But after that night you realized no matter what you wear wether it’s a loose dress that goes down to the floor or the most skimpiest outfit imaginable they’ll always be there to attack.

Bill came in and smirked looking you over noticing the movie on the shirt that was a chick flick comedy promoted towards best girl-friends. He wasn’t planning on going and instead was going to enjoy a night out with his buddies at the local tavern.

You checked the clock and squealed with excitement seeing that it was that time.

“Im going to get going now. I’m meeting Whitney at her place.” You said walking over to the bed to put your foot to tie your shoe.

“Your going to be five minutes early. What your going to leave me so soon? Your poor, poor, boyfriend who you’ve grown so used to you don’t wanna be around him.” Bill teased leaning over you so you were nearly nose to nose.

Instead of kissing him like he was expecting you pressed your palm to his face and shoved him away from you.

“No kisses for you.” You teased.

You stood up and went to walk towards the door but Bill pulled you towards his chest and wrapped his arms around you resting his chin on your head. He began to kiss from your temple down to your shoulder and you giggled.

“Still not convinced.”

“C'mon babe.” He whined.

You couldn’t deny him when he whined cutely and turned around to kiss him for a few short seconds.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go meet up with my friend.” You said grabbing a hoodie from the closet.

“Got your keys?” Bill asked.

“Yep.” You replied picking them up.

“Got your wallet?”

“Yes. Bill, I got everything.” You sighed exasperated well walking towards the door.

“Got your phone?”

You froze in the spot and sighed, “Nope.”

You walked over to the charger and pulled it off before tucking it in your pocket unaware that Bill stopping you actually had helped save your life.

Keep reading

Comatose-Chapter 15

Summary: You are the sister of Charles Xavier. You are part of the Avengers and dating Bucky Barnes. Unbeknownst to you Bucky is having an affair with Natasha. When you catch them in the act, things go downhill from there. You are a Mutant with similar powers to Jean, only with Immortality thrown in.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Bucky X Natasha, Logan Howlett X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Cheating, Feelings of worthlessness, Depression.

Logan Stares at you stunned. “Wha?” he mutters.

“Well, look at you. The almighty Wolverine at a loss for words?” you tease, trying to defuse the tension.

He grips you by the back of the neck, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you mean it?” he asks.

“Yeah, I do. I love you, Logan.” The answering smirk you receive has you rolling your eyes. “Alright, wolfy, let’s get going. Tony is going to be pissed we skipped out.”

Logan chuckles darkly as he pulls open the door, checking to make sure the coast is clear. It isn’t. “Barnes,” you hear him mutter.

Freezing at the name, you begin to panic. How long was he out there? How much had he heard?

“You two done?” comes the steel hard voice of Bucky.

Regret makes a momentary appearance when the pain reflected in his eyes claws at your insides. Fuck.

“Tony received intel and needs everyone in the meeting room in twenty.” His voice is emotionless. Winter Soldier mode saving him from further hurt.

“Bucky,” you whisper. His eyes seem to look into your soul.

“I don’t need explanations, (Y/N),” is his reply, his face hardening more. “You aren’t…mine,” he spits out.

Logan draws himself to his full height. “Listen bub, this ain’t none of your business, so fuck off before we go another round,” he grits out.

Placing a gentle hand on Logan’s forearm you address Bucky. “I’m sorry this is hurting you, James,” you say as gently as you can, his face softening slightly at the use of his first name. “But I told you what you and I had is over.”

He snorts out a laugh. “Ya might want to tell your body, baby girl. The way you responded ta me out there told a whole other story.” He smirks at you.

Logan snarls at the chocolate haired man. Taking a step forward, you stop the inevitable fight before it can begin.

“I’m trying here, Barnes, but I swear to all that is holy if you speak to me like that again I will stop playing nice!” Prodding him in the chest you continue. “This is on you. Us not being together is on you! Accept it! I am not going to melt into your arms because you said sorry! I am not going to come running back because you feel bad!” Tears make an unwanted appearance in your eyes. “I am with Logan!” You enunciate every word, trying to get it to sink into his thick skull. “You and I will never be together again. It is over!” you say as you push past him. “And another thing, keep your red headed bitch on a leash!” you spit, eyes turning red with anger. “I am done playing these stupid ass games with the both of you.” Turning on your heel, you stride away from both men, trying unsuccessfully to keep a lid on your flaring anger.

Muttering profanities under your breath, you ignore the wolf whistles filtering to you from various Avengers and X-men. You had, undoubtedly, been louder than you thought, and it had you groaning, stalking toward your bedroom, fists clenched at your sides.

“Sestra,” comes Wanda accented voice.

You stop and let out a sob, running to the red witch, and flinging your arms around her.

“I missed you, sestra,” she murmurs as she rocks you back and forth, not saying anything else as you break down in the middle of a hallway.

“They are men,” Wanda comments. “Men are often foolish and stupid.”

After you had finished crying, you had moved into your room. Wanda was currently sitting on the sink while you took a shower.

“They are going to have pissing contests until you leave,” she chuckles dryly. “That Logan though.. His mind is dark.”

You snort. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s still a good man.”

She smiles softly. “I did not say he was bad. I meant that he has so much pain in his past, it causes me pain to be near him.”

You nod in understanding as you reach for a towel. “I know, it’s a lot to take in when you are unaccustomed to it. Eventually it becomes background noise.” She regards you skeptically. You laugh out loud. “I promise, it was way worse a couple of years ago. He’s changed so much.”

She smiles widely at you. “You are in love with him,” she states matter of factly.

“Yes, yes I am,” you reply seriously before you and Wanda burst into a fit of giggles.

Ten minutes later, you are strolling toward the conference room, chatting animatedly with Wanda. Rounding the corner, you spot a sullen looking Bucky, and an absolutely murderous looking Logan. You snort out loud causing both men to regard you sheepishly. Moving toward Logan, you take a seat beside him, squeezing his hand, letting him know all is forgiven. The corners of his mouth lifts minutely, shoulders relaxing. You chance a look at Bucky who is scowling at the conference room table, and sigh. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

Tony claps his hands together, “Alright ladies and gents. We received intel about an hour ago. We have located the base where the op to take, (Y/N) and tin can is being run from.”

Logan chuckles briefly at Tony’s jab at Bucky. You nudge him hard in the ribs. “Don’t be a child!” you whisper angrily. He has the good grace to look slightly guilty.

“The base is heavily guarded. At least a hundred agents protect it, along with anti-aircraft weaponry and various other booby traps.” Tony gestures at Steve, who stands from his chair.

“The X-men will go in first. Storm will create cover, while (Y/N) disables the booby traps and weaponry.” You nod in understanding. “Logan, Colossus, myself and Bucky will engage in the front, while Tony, Sam and Vision take the sky.” He pauses to look each person in the eye. “Kitty will take Clint, Natasha, and Wanda through the back to disable whomever is inside and destroy the op specs.”

Dread fills you at the mention of Natasha. You don’t trust her to do this. You swallow down the panic in your throat, turning your attention back to Steve.

“Everybody understand?” he asks, receiving affirmative responses around the room. “Good. Everybody get some shut eye. We leave in twelve hours.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

Logan pulls you from your seat, ushering you down the hallway to your bedroom, receiving a harsh glare from Bucky as he holds your hand possessively. You did not have a good feeling about this.

Tags: Here we are, last chapter of fluff before the shite hits the fan!

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