the way to a girl's heart is through her boyfriend's stomach

like real people do | jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same. 

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

based off hozier’s song ‘like real people do’

Keep reading

Your senior year roommate calls herself Clarity. She’s very small and rumpled and distant, and she goes for long walks in the forest south of campus when she’s frustrated. You aren’t friends, but you coexist peacefully. It’s enough.

The creature on your co-owned Walmart futon isn’t Clarity.

It looks like her. Enough to fool a casual observer, certainly. Enough to fool someone who hasn’t been soldering sterling silver for six hours. But you have, and the truth of silver lingers, and the Thing That Looks Like Clarity is sprouting delicate flowers from the skin of its bare shoulders.

It’s sitting cross-legged and perfectly, terribly still, tracking your eyes as you take all this in. When you sigh and set down your backpack, it says, “Hello, smith. There didn’t seem to be any sense in pretending.”

“Jeweler,” you say, and, “I go by Florence, these days. What should I call you?”

It blinks, languid and slow. “I’m not here to usurp. I’m a… placeholder.”

“It’s still confusing as shit, my guy.”

It considers this at length. Finally, with the air of one who has just solved a great puzzle, it says “Claire. We will know, the two of us.”

“Works for me. Nice meeting you, Claire.”

And that seems to be all there is to say. Your roommate’s been stolen by the Fair Folk, you’re living with a changeling, and there’s not much you can do about either of these things. You scroll through Instagram until it gets tired of watching you and wanders out into the hallway.

So that’s Claire.

Keep reading

Audition

A NIGHT AT HOME | TAEHYUNG VERSION

WORD COUNT: 3,112

warnings: graphic smut, dirty talk, spanking, slight exhibitionism, squirting

Originally posted by jitonic

masterlist | ask | song 

Keep reading

Dean Thinks You’re Hot

Title: Dean Thinks You’re Hot

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,122

Anon Request: you think you could write one where the reader feels insecure about her stretch marks/size and Jensen is her best friend and tries to help her feel better?

Warnings: Negative Thoughts, Low Self-Esteem, Fluff, Implied Smut

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated, friends! xoxox

x

Your name: submit What is this?


    Pacing back and forth around your trailer almost drove you dizzy. Back and forth. Back and forth; as if that was going to simultaneously solve all of your problems. It wasn’t. Not even close.

    You had just gotten the memo that your intimate scene with Jensen was moved to today, not that you weren’t sweating buckets the second you got the script, but the fact that the scene was moved to today instead of five days from now had you ripping your hair from your head. You were going to be very exposed to him, and no matter how long the two of you had been friends, this was something you weren’t comfortable with on so many levels.

Keep reading

body guard | jughead x reader

Originally posted by kylogue

request

anonymous said: hey, i’d like to request a jughead x reader where jughead is like super protective over the reader. like he walks with her in school. sits with her in pop’s. the reader is never out of his sight (only when she’s home). and the reader doesn’t really mind, bc there’s a killer in the town and stuff. and it’s kinda hot thank youu^^

“you do know you don’t have to follow me everywhere i go” you joke as you start your journey from riverdale high to the infamous pop’s chock'lit shoppe, jughead hot on your heels

but let’s face it, when wasn’t he? you’d grown up in neighbouring trailers and he was always so over protective of you, he’d walk you to and from school, to pop’s, to the drive in. everywhere.

you loved it, he was your best friend and essentially one of the only friends you had. jughead had been transferred to southside high but it didn’t stop him for walking you to and from school, no matter what.

“you’re not my bodyguard yanno?” you tease earning an eye roll from the dark and broody raven haired boy.

“there is a killer on the loose yanno” he pokes back stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, a famous jones smile hanging off his lips.

“see that excuse expired a week ago- the killers been found and put away. i don’t need a security detail anymore”

you can see the clogs turning on his head trying to come up with a witty response to your playful banter

“maybe i just like to be sure that a beautiful lady like you gets to her beloved diner in one peace” he smiles sweetly nudging your shoulder with his own

“oo smooth jones, but unfortunately not smooth enough. this girl can look after herself” you smirk spinning around on your hells, the ice seemingly a lot more slippery than you anticipated

next thing you know your put on your ass, the cool snow melting through your jeans. you cuss and let out a muffled groan as you glance up to see a smirking jughead.

“oh i can defiantly see that mrs slick” he jokes offering you a hand up, you hesitantly grab his hand as he pulls you up off the cold ground.

“damn it!” you exclaim feeling the wetness on your butt, “my damn butt is soaking wet now great!” the boy goes red trying to suck in laughter

“it can’t be that bad, turn around” you huff turning letting the boy free range at staring at your butt

damn” he mutters, you spin around quickly trying to get a good look yourself “what! is it that bad? you panic

he licks his lips shaking his head “oh no defiantly not i think it looks rather-” he pauses “peachy”

you turn and smack his chest “stop it you perv”

he places his hands up in defensive, wincing at your contact on his chest “first of all-ouch” he pause and you roll your eyes

“oh please i barley touched you-” he narrows his eyes at you silencing you as you allow him to continue.

“second of all you asked me to look- so i was just admiring what you were so gracefully born with” he argues a smirk etched onto his face.

“you owe me a milkshake jones” you complain

“because i proved you wrong or checked out the goods” he comments as we continue toward the diner

“now that you mention it, milkshake and fires” you smirk batting your lashes at the boy as you use your back to push open the door.

“would you look at that you holding the door open for me, how very twenty first century of you (y/l/n)”

“add a burger to that order, ill grab us a booth” you yell to the beanie boy as you slip into your normal booth waiting for jughead to slide in opposite you

“you’re going to make me go into bankruptcy” he mumbles as he slides in next to you, catching you off guard.

he senses your tense “everything okay?” he asks stretching his arm behind you resting on the booth.

“yeah just you never sit next to me, always opposite” you smile biting your lip as you notice your closeness

“maybe i wanted to sit next to you for once” he beams bringing a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear

“and maybe since you let me check you out we’ve moved up in our level of friendship” he winks our food being placed in front of us

“what’s that supposed to me” you blush feeling the room growing hotter

“well i was hoping to move from platonic bodyguard to sexy serpent boyfriend” you eyes widen your stomach seemed to flip in your stomach.

“you think with that leather jacket your all slick huh?” you tease picking at your fries

“your bad boy leather jacket facade can’t win me over that easy jones” you smile feeling a little more at ease even though your insides were screaming at you to kiss him.

“oh really? you sure about that?” he smiles playfully, you kept your eyes trained on your fries knowing that one look into his eyes and you’d melt

“mhm” you muse

in one swift movement his beanie is in your hands and he’s running his long fingers through his luscious raven locks, a strand of hair falling infront of his eyes.

you stop breathing your heart hammering in your chest as your ovaries go into overdrive

you open your mouth to report with a snarky remark but you end up opening and closing your mouth at a loss of words, mumbling a inaudible response before your cheeks heat up.

“what was that?” he tease closing the gap between you slowly

“screw it ” you mumble pulling him by the collar of his leather jacket crashing your lips onto his, jughead spends no time kissing back pulling on your legs so they were draped over his lap.

you hands roaming over his chest before working their way up to his neck and hair as his hands stroke your leg, pulling your waist so they was no space between the two of you.

you were broken apart at the sound of pop clearing his throat, you turn red burying your head into his chest “sorry pop” jughead attempts to keep a straight face as the older man leaves our table, shaking his head.

“so was that a yes?” he asks

you bring your brows together “a yes to what?” you tease

“to being your sexy serpent boyfriend” he wiggles his brows placing a kiss on your neck

“i don’t know maybe just boyfriend” you joke cussing him to tickle you, letting out a small squeal gaining the attention of the owner once more. a scowl on his face.

“fine fine!!” you giggle

“fine what?” he argues

“you can be my sexy serpent boyfriend” you admit rolling your eyes as he boy grins helplessly

“only if i can be your sexy serpent princess”

he nods pecking your lips “you’ve always been my sexy serpent princess”

Without 🛋️

A/N: This piece is very long and has taken me a long time to write for several reasons. But I hope this is what these lovely people hoped for when they sent in their requests (x x x)! Love you all and I hope you have a great day :)

Harry had always been in awe of you.  

From the moment he had you in his life, his heart had been filled with your gentle compassion. He had admired your instinctive kindness, personally witnessing the way you’d give a piece of your heart to everyone in your life. “Being kind is all that I can give” he’d hear you say and it breaks him just a little when he watches your smile falter for a fraction of a second, before you arch your eyes and nod your head slightly towards him in reassurance. You’re doing it again, he gathers, putting up a front to satisfy the people around you. Making sure they remained lost in their pursuit of happiness while you’re left alone to pick up your own shattered pieces.

Harry had regretted that night the most. The first, of many, where your heart felt particularly heavy as you smiled and whispered “I’m fine” to his concerned eyes. The silk of your dress clumped at your shoulders as you walked away from him then, away from a night of celebrating your recent promotion at work and into a cab to nurse your friend that had gulped too much tequila to shove away his own misfortunate thoughts.

Keep reading

like real people do p.2 | jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3

this component is based off russ’s cherry hill

Keep reading

Regarding Dean

Characters:  Dean, Reader, Sam

Summary:  Sam calls reader to babysit Dean after he’s cursed by a witch.

Warnings:  Angst-ish

Word Count:  1776

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Regarding Dean

The screen lights up on your phone, Sam Winchester’s name flashing on the screen.This can’t be good, otherwise Sam would never, ever call you. Not after everything that happened. Should you answer? You don’t really want to dredge all that shit up. But if he’s calling, it’s important. You’re thumb hovers over the green button. It’s on the third ring before you decide to answer.  

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? It’s me, Sam. Please, don’t hang up, just hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thank…thank you. Listen, I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t need help, you know that I wouldn’t. But I need you.”

———–

You can’t figure out how Sam knows you’re in the area. You haven’t had contact with Dean or Sam for over year. Is he still keeping tabs on you through the hunter network?  It’s touching in a way, you’ve always had a soft spot for Sammy. Truth is, you miss him.

Why the fuck are you driving to the motel right now? Why would you willingly put yourself in this position? Must be temporary insanity. It’s the only logical explanation. Maybe you should drive straight to the psych ward and check yourself in after this is over.

Keep reading

scars [peter parker]

Originally posted by peterparkerimagine


warnings: mentions of sex, heavy make out, a bit of sadness in the beginning

request: @pradabiatch655 

word count: 1655


    Today had been one of the worst days of your life.

    It had started out just like any other day, you walked to school beside your boyfriend of two years, Peter Parker. The two of you always walked to school every morning, seeing as you lived in apartments that were close together. It was almost like a tradition for the two of you; meeting at the corner of the two of your building, before walking the fifteen minutes it took to get to school.

    Once the two of you had arrived at school, everything went downhill, fast.

    The moment you stepped into your first period class, your stomach had turned sideways, feeling as though your guts were turning themselves inside out. It felt as though something bad was going to happen as soon as you sat in your desk.

    And something bad was happening, indeed.

    Sitting in the cold, wooden desk aside Peter, you lowered your arm so that you could grab ahold of your bag. Pulling out a pencil, you straightened your back and relaxed into the seat. Raising your eyes, you noticed your teacher standing at the front of the room, a stack of paper in his hands.

    Pop quiz.

    An hour later, there were tears in your eyes, as you knew that you had down awful on the quiz. With the grade that you already had, this quiz would have decided your grade for the next few weeks.

    And that was not the end of the story.

    By the end of the school day, you had taken three tests, been bullied by the most popular girls in school, and tripped into the mud outside the school’s front doors on the way home. Now, you stood in front of Peter’s apartment, tears in your eyes. The cold, salty tears stung your dulled eyes as you knocked on his front door. Peter opened a few moments later, his body wrapped in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. His wide eyes scanned your shivering frame before he was immediately grabbing you by your waist. He pulled you into his chest, strong arms wrapping around your hips. You inhaled his familiar scent as he pulled you closer to his chest, something that seemed almost impossible. The teen in front of you seemed sympathetic, his eyes filled with sadness and his heart filled with hurt.

    If Peter was being honest, when he saw the tears in your eyes, he was filled with a sudden rage. He wanted to find whoever had done this to you and use his newfound powers to show them that they should never hurt you. The teenage, human spider hated that you were in pain, even if it were not physical.

    Peter pulled you out of the rain, his grip never leaving your body. He pulled you into his apartment with strong hands guiding you to his room. He ducked past his Aunt May, trying to avoid her pestering questions, wanting nothing more than to get you warm and happy.

    When he reached his room, he grabbed a pair of his old sweats and a large shirt of his. He handed them to you, not uttering a word before gently pushing on the small of your back. He pushed you towards his bathroom, letting you get changed out of your wet clothes and into his fresh, warm ones. While you changed, Peter moved across his room, turning on his television screen. He let the vibrant screen play quietly in the background of his room for a few moments before he grabbed a movie beside the television. He pushed it into the slot of the screen before moving back to his bedside, moving the blankets and bunching them up in order to make part of a fort.

    When you exited Peter’s bathroom, you were surprised to see what he had done. Your eyes scanned the small room and laid them upon Peter’s figure; he was sorting the blankets and pushing pillows to the side of his bed so that there would be room for the two of you.

    Making a sound from the back of your throat, you alerted Peter of your presence. The teen turned his attention in your direction, his eyes immediately falling upon your frame. His chocolate brown eyes took in your broken stature; scrubby, red eyes, sunken-in frame, and wet, knotted hair.

    “Oh, baby,” Peter spoke sadly, moving the distance to take you back into his arms. He let your forehead fall against his broad chest, new tears soaking his sweatshirt. Peter rubbed small circles into your back, his head laying atop of yours, breathing in your scent. He let you cry for a few more minutes before he pulled you towards his bed. He layed you down in front of him, letting him lay behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back into him. The position felt natural, as if he were meant to lay beside you.

    For the next hour or so, you and Peter cuddled into each other and watched movies, letting you get more comfortable.

    While you were focused on the movie, you did not see Peter watching you. You did not notice Peter’s eyes as he scanned your face with adoration in his eyes. He watched your eyes as they crinkled when you laughed, and the way that your lips curled at the end when you smiled. His eyes shined and reflected immense happiness when you smiled, grinning happily when you did. His eyes roamed every inch of your face, from the scars and lines. He knew that you did not like the scars and acne marks on your face. You claimed that they were ugly; that they made you look different and not perfect.

    But Peter thought differently.

    He thought the marks made you beautiful. He thought they made you look strong; as if you had survived through hell and much more. Peter thought that scars were not a sign of imperfection; they were a sign of strength and beauty. He loved the scars on your body, even if you did not.

    Lifting his hand, he let the tip of his index finger trail along the scar behind your ear, dropping it to follow the short line to its end. He moved his hand again, towards another one of your scars. It was one caused by acne, a scar that you hated because it was on your face, right underneath your cheekbone.

    When you felt the tip of his finger trail across his face, you turned, watching Peter as he stared at your face. His chocolate brown orbs gazed into your eyes, taking in every feature of your face with complete and utter awe. His lips twisted into a smile as he watched you take in his features as he did to you.

    With one final look, Peter lowered his lips until they were inches away from yours, “You are so gorgeous, love.”

    You shook your head with a blush, before you leaned up to connect your lips to his. Peter responded almost immediately, his lips moving against yours. He tilted his head so that his lips could slot against yours in a smoother fashion. You groaned against his lips, moving your lips faster so that you could keep up with him. Peter moved, his back muscles shifting as he let you fall back against his bed sheets. You sighed happily, complete euphoria and love rushing over your body.

    This was Peter Parker.

    The man you had loved since the day you met him.

    The man you would love for the rest of your life.

    You moved, your back lying flat against the sheets of Peter’s bed. Your hands clutched the sides of Peter’s face, one pulling itself through his hair with a groan. Peter smiled against your lips, his contagious personality rubbing off, causing you to smile as well.

    “God, I love you,” Peter groans. His hips roll into yours for a short moment, eliciting a moan from your mouth. He continues to roll his lips into yours, sighs of happiness and love coming from both your mouths.

    To anyone other person, the scene may have looked like two people wrapped up in lust and euphoria.

    However, that was not what was happening.

    No, this was different.

    This was something bigger; something pure and beautiful. Something that no one could have predicted, a motion that most people would never achieve in their entire lives. This was something that made the stormy days brighter, and the bad days just a little bit happier. It was the sort of thing that made your stomach flutter with excitement and your heart beat just a little bit faster. It made your eyes shine brighter and your steps feel lighter. This thing made you happy, sad, and excited all at the same time; the simple mention of it made you nervous and happy all at once.

    It was love.

    This love was the feeling in your stomach when Peter mumbled how much he loved you; it was the feeling of Peter’s lips against yours. Love was the ache in your gut as Peter’s hips rolled against yours.

    And most of all, it was what you felt for Peter; and similarly, it was what he felt for you.

imagine #22

pairing: jeff atkins x reader

characters: Jeff Atkins, Montgomery de la Cruz, Jessica Davis, Courtney Crimson, Hannah Baker, Clay Jensen, Justin Foley, Tony Padilla

warning: nonconsensual touching (butt), alcohol, a bit crying, drunken confessions. 

word count: 1,990

(not my gif)

Your name: submit What is this?

You were stumbling a bit as you stood in the middle of the gym and in front of one of the jocks of Liberty High, your date for the Winter Formal, Montgomery. His hand was laying way too close to your butt for your liking as the two of you swayed to the upbeat music playing, but the alcohol in your veins told you that it wasn’t anything to worry about.

Keep reading

Namjoon

BOYFRIEND BANGTAN | NAMJOON VERSION 

WORD COUNT: 1,373 

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF with the lightest most PG mention of sex

Originally posted by bangtoori

masterlist | ask

Keep reading

Rotten Judgement - part 6

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Hercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?

Word Count:2,052

Warnings: the usual + Torture, Blood, Death

A/N: I hate warnings, they spoil all the fun… Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on in my brain, but I enjoy drama lol Enjoy, lovely cupcakes :)

Rotten Judgement - Masterpage

Two weeks after you last saw Bucky, you were getting ready for your meeting with Sam and his team when you heard a lot of giggling and chattering in the hallway. You rolled your eyes, recognizing the voice of the two Furies.

“What do you want?” you asked defensively as you swung the door open.

“Missed us?”

Wanda pressed her cheek against Nat’s and they both gave you their best innocent smile. When you didn’t answer, they bat their eyelashes at you.

Keep reading

It Hurts

Warnings: angst?

A/N: I was thinking of making this a two part. Should I make a part two and have it a fight/make up/ smut? Let me know! If so, I’ll post part two ASAP! :D

“Don’t go near ________ with that, she hates spiders.”

   A slow, sneaky grin spreads across Justin’s face. Your brother Alex warns him again, but it does no good. Justin takes a step forward and you take one back, arms up in mock surrender. Being deathly afraid of spiders your whole life, you didn’t want anything to do with them. Justin is holding a huge, hairy spider in his hand and the look he’s giving you is unsettling.

“Justin,” you squeak. “You better not!”

Keep reading

Becoming Queer

When I was 8 I was obsessed with Disney’s Aladdin. Not just the original movie, but both of it’s poorly made sequels too. I watched them everyday after school while I drew pictures in our basement TV room, simultaneously fixated on their adventures and creating my own on paper.

I remember being absolutely in awe of how handsome Aladdin was, but also of the beauty of Princess Jasmine. They were the most attractive people I could ever imagine existing.

When I was 10 my mom gave me an American Girl book all about puberty and the female body. I only read through the whole thing once, but I left it close to my bed because of the one page I looked at nearly everyday.

It was one of the sections of the book on bodily changes throughout puberty– body hair, periods, etc. At the bottom of was a picture of several girls in front of a mirror, completely naked, to illustrate the different sizes and shapes of breasts. I was absolutely fascinated by these girls: the soft curves of their hips, their round and full breasts, the way their thighs came together. Despite their cartoonish nature, this was the closest I’d come to seeing a grown girl’s body. It was foreign and beautiful to me.

Somehow, I knew this wasn’t normal, so I always hid the book after I was done in case mom asked why I still had it.

When I was 12 I found my self distracted in classroom discussion circles looking at girls chests and lips and thighs. Every time I caught myself I’d immediately look down at my lap and blush. I’d learned by now that it wasn’t normal for girls to look at other girls like that, what it meant to be gay. But I’d eventually find my eyes wandering again, my thoughts focused on how beautiful one of my female classmates was.

I remember walking down the hallway one day mentally reciting “you can’t be a lesbian, you like boys… every girl must look at each other like this.”

When I was 13 one of the girls that I clung to during PE (because they were just as repulsed by physical exertion as I was) told us she was bisexual. This was the first time I’d been told someone could be attracted to boys and girls at the same time. It was confusing and enlightening at the same time.

I remember she put her arms around my shoulders once, during badminton week, her face inches from mine. It made me nervous, but in a way that I’d never felt before. My stomach had dropped, and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like the fear I’d felt from scary movies and my dad yelling at me, but it wasn’t quite like when I felt exhilarated from riding a rollercoaster or binging on sugar with my friends… it was something in between, and entirely new.

I’d told my mom about it and she immediately wanted to call the principal and make sure the girl didn’t touch me like that again. That scared me, her reacting like that. I started acting repulsed by the girl afterwards, telling my friends she had flirted with me even though I wasn’t entirely sure she had, how weird it was and how weird she was.

Looking back, I probably wish that she had been flirting with me.

When I was 14 I was acquainted with the first queer couple I’d ever met. They were in theatre with me, and I’d been wanting them to start dating for months. At this point I’d stopped acting weirded out by gay people and claiming that bisexual people were “selfish and should just pick a side already.” I openly showed my support for gay people, citing my theatre friends of examples of how “normal” they could be.

I walked in on the couple in the dressing room one rehearsal, shocked to see them making out. I stood in the doorway a moment, then walked out without either of them seeing me.

I thought about their kiss for the whole day, wondering how their relationship worked, what it was like to date someone of the same gender as you. I was dating a boy at the time, my first boyfriend and the one that would create fear and an inability to trust for my entire high school career when he started abusing me. I wondered if this couple’s relationship could be anything like ours.

When I was 15 I joined Tumblr. I’d just moved from Michigan to Alabama, had my heart broken by my abusive boyfriend furthering the pain he was inflicting by cheating on me, and was just beginning to realize that I had an eating disorder with no idea how to feel about it or whether or not I wanted it to go away.Tumblr became a place for me to escape all this into “fandoms” and “fitblrs” and personal posts from strangers I didn’t know but whose lives intrigued me. It was on Tumblr that I first encountered the word “pansexual.” I was 16.

I was intrigued and slightly obsessed with the concept of it, pansexuality. I’d only just begun to learn about transgender and heard rumors of other genders outside of men and women, and being attracted to all of them or being “genderblind” seemed impossible, but incredible. I spent months randomly researching sexual orientation and transgender people before finally adopting the term as my own.

Though, it was only in my head that I claimed pansexuality as my own. I didn’t want to tell anyone… not because I was ashamed so much, I’d forgotten that stigma several years ago, but more because I was afraid that I only wanted to be pansexual, not that I actually was.

After all, if only ever been in relationships with boys at that point. How could I know if I was actually attracted to other genders if I’d never dated them?

When I was 17 I got my first crush on a girl. I didn’t recognize that that was my motive at the time, but I was constantly staring at her in the two classes we shared, payed special attention when she spoke, and the day she announced that she had a Tumblr I made it my goal to be a part of her life.

By winter we were best friends. By summer I’d begun to realize the extent of my feelings for her. The first time I got drunk at 19 I blurted out that I thought about making out with her all the time. I told her how I felt at 20, 3 years of pining later.

She told me she didn’t feel the same.

When I was 18 and in my first year of college, I binge watched all of Laci Green’s videos on YouTube, deciding that it was time I figured out how my body and how sex worked. Through her I found not only the courage to masturbate for the first time, but my first confrontation with “third genders.”

I obsessively studied nonbinary genders, claiming to just be interested in them, giving speeches and presentations on them for class, messaging nonbinary people to ask about their experiences. I came to accept that I identified with this term the summer of my sophomore year of college.

When I was 18 I also came out to my dad. I’d already come out to my close friends, sisters, and mother at this point– all giving me generally positive responses. This was not the case with my dad.

We were fighting in the kitchen, something that had become a regular thing since I’d started expressing my feminist and liberal beliefs. He was making homophobic comments and I guess I must of have been very clearly upset by this, because he asked, “do you have a problem with that?”

To which I responded, “Yeah, because I like girls, dad!”

My outburst led to two and a half years of him telling me that my identity was fake, a scheme to get attention, that all I believed was a result of my being brainwashed at college and my own self delusion. The full force my panic, bipolar disorder, and depression came out during this time. The first time I thought of killing myself was when he threatened to kick me out and cut me off from my sisters if I didn’t stop with this “feminazi LGBT bullshit.”

When I was 19 I started dating one of my best friend from high school– a boy, but pansexual like myself, I felt like this was the first queer relationship I’d been in.

He told me he didn’t want a monogamous relationship, that he identified as polyamorous– which I knew because this was one of the reasons his last relationships hadn’t worked out. Thinking I wouldn’t fall as desperately in love with him as I did, I agreed to an open relationship.

Two months into the relationship and much research and self reflection later, I’d come to accept that I was also polyamorous and I never wanted a monogamous relationship again.

When I was 20 a girl on Tumblr reblogged a set of selfies that I’d posted, exclaiming in the tags about how handsome I was. I took one look at her blog, saw the profile picture of her staring directly at the camera with intense blue eyes and an expression impossible to read, and immediately followed and messaged her my thanks.

We started messaging frequently, talking about such expansive and random things, things I’d never talked about with anyone. Soon we were messaging everyday and I began to realize how hard I was falling. I wanted her, I wanted her so badly.

I hadn’t had a crush on a girl that’d worked out in my favor and I was constantly pining for a girlfriend. I loved my boyfriend, I was still attracted to men and non-feminine genders, but I felt not only “too straight” to be queer at that point, but also like I was missing some sort of affection in my life that only a feminine partner could fill. And I was beginning to wonder if this girl was the person who could finally end my wanting.

The only problem with this girl was that she lived an ocean away from me, in Denmark to be specific. But my feelings became so strong that I couldn’t just be silent anymore: I told her I liked her.

She said she felt the same.

Today, March 2nd, 2017, Hayley Kiyoko released the music video for her single “Sleepover.” It wrecked me.

Hayley has become someone that I not only admire, but someone who makes me feel so validated in who I am. A mixed, Japanese American, queer girl in love with art and comfy clothing. Before Hayley, I’d never felt like there was anyone in the media who was even remotely like me. With great music and a connection I’d never felt in any other celebrity before, I became an avid fan. So naturally, when the video for “Sleepover” was released it only took me minutes to find it on YouTube and watch.

The music video was so much more than I could have anticipated, actualizing all my experiences as a queer feminine person, admiring from a far, living in my head with my fantasies and no hope of ever being able to experience them in reality. With this video I was thrown back into all the years I spent confused and afraid of how I felt and who I was, all the girls I wanted to be with but knew they couldn’t work out, or didn’t work out even when I tried. And as melancholy as these thoughts were at first, it pushed me to the realization:

I love who I’ve become. I love that I’m queer.

And despite how grueling the process of it all has been, I wouldn’t trade all that heartache for a normal life if I could. I wouldn’t give it all up to be the straight girl with no struggles or worries about who she loved as I once believed I would. Even with the pain that it had brought, becoming queer has made me the person I am today.

And I love that person, even if there are still rough edges to be smoothed, I am finally unafraid of who I am.

Thantophobia(M)

Plot: Thantophobia - the fear of losing someone you love.
It had been at least a month since you had seen your boyfriends, and the loneliness was turning against you, making your thoughts head into a direction you didn’t want it to take.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader x Kim Taehyung

Genre: Smut, Angst, Poly au!

Warnings: Threesome, (slight) dirty talk, oral(giving), voyeurism, orgasm denial, masturbation denial(?), spanking shit you really need some holy water after this 

Notes: Requested by the beautiful @impossiblewriter . Sorry it took so long, moon child <3 I was stumped on how to do the angst. I really hope it’s good enough, since this is my first time writing a poly smut, lol. 2k Words

Originally posted by mimibtsghost

[Message sent 4:38]

It had been at least three hours since you had sent a message to your boyfriends, and they still hadn’t replied. It was a question; you wanted to know where exactly they were. You wanted to know if they were alright.

They were in Japan for tour, but where? You knew how much their schedule fluctuated – they could be texting you pictures of them in a hotel room in Osaka, then almost two hours later, they were informing you that they were on their way to Tokyo.

But this time, there was nothing.

Keep reading

RIP To My Youth

and you could call this the funeral

My first Jughead imagine, this is part one, if you guys enjoy it I’ll keep it going. 

Pairing: Jughead x Reader 

Description: Jug and the reader have been best friends since they were kids, but lately, things have changed, Riverdale has changed, Jug has changed and Y/N thinks maybe it’s time she changed too. 

Warnings: ANGST ANGST SO MUCH ANGST YO (maybe a couple o swears)

Word count: 2088

Part 2https://thatsadbreakfastclub.tumblr.com/post/158505761114/rip-to-my-youth-pt-2



It was getting to the point where I was having internal battles with myself every night. ‘Y/N he’s working on the novel and the newspaper, of course, it’s going to be harder for him to spend time with you’ versus ‘he’s moved on, he’s closer with Betty now, he and Archie are closer too, you’ve lost him, you’re irrelevant’. These were the thoughts that had been consuming my brain for the past couple of weeks. Jug was my best friend, right? Maybe I should text him? Maybe not. I started playing with my pale grey cap, my nervous tick of sorts. Jug could always tell when I was nervous because I would fiddle with the cap “Y/N” he’d say “spill it, you can’t hide anything from me, I can read you like an open book”. Thinking about this little memory was bittersweet. How can someone who’s practically by your side every day suddenly just have no real interest in talking to you? Ever since the murder of Jason Blossom, it really feels like everything in Riverdale has changed.

I glanced at my clock perched on my bedside table, 7:45 pm sigh. Maybe doing some homework will take my mind off all this bullshit, who’s idea was it to put me in advanced algebra anyway? Oh, that’s right my father, who I really wish was here right now and not away on some business trip. Tonight would have to be a lonely one. That’s when I remembered I had Jug’s math textbook, there it was sitting on my desk. I flipped it open and sure enough on the bottom left-hand corner was a small ‘property of Jughead Jones’. Perfect I could use this as an excuse to text him. 

Hey Jug, I forgot I had your math textbook? Want me to come drop it over? The two-hour wait to get a reply just built up more and more anger inside of me Hey Y/N, I’m working on an article with Betty right now, could you drop it off to me in the newsroom in free period tomorrow? This was it, this was fucking it, oh I would take his textbook to him tomorrow and I would also confront him about this whole thing, that’s what I’d do straight up ask him why I was suddenly dead weight, I’ve had his guys back for so many years and now I’m just nothing, I won’t have it. Will do I sent back, cool calm and collected and then I was going to give him a piece of my mind tomorrow.

Getting ready for school was never a difficult task for me, I pretty much did the same thing everyday. My Y/H/C was tied into a ponytail with the front strands falling onto my face framing it. I put on my classic ripped boyfriend jeans and a black t-shirt, accompanied by my army jacket. To finish off my classic look I added my signature grey cap and put on my favourite dark grey lipstick. I wasn’t the girliest of girls, that was for sure, but everyone seemed to identify me by my style and in this I found comfort. After giving myself the once over in the mirror I grabbed Jug’s textbook from my desk, shoving it into my bag and I set off for school.

The day dragged on and on, I had a tonne of classes with Kevin and Ronnie today so it was nice to hang out with them for a change. This was of course until Kevin pulled the “I haven’t seen you and Jughead together in a while, what happened you two are usually joined at the hip?” line “You guys are my otp, I hope there’s no trouble in paradise” Veronica added. “Ronnie we’re not dating, why does everyone always think that and honestly, I don’t know, I guess he’s been too busy with this whole novel and newspaper thing to remember me as well” I replied giving my best interpretation of a fake smile. Veronica and Kevin gave me sympathetic looks. 

As the bell rang, signaling our release I was packing my things together when Veronica grabbed my arm. “Y/N you need to tell Jug how you feel, I don’t know if you’ve even admitted it to yourself yet but it’s pretty obvious you’re in love with him, I can see how much not seeing him is hurting you and I think it’s best if you face this head on” I was so taken aback by this, I mean for years I’ve always had people ask if Jug and I were dating but no one had been this blatant with me. Was she right?, No he’s my best friend, I couldn’t be in love with him no way. I let out an awkward laugh “I don’t love Jughead, we’re just friends” It came out so defensive that Veronica raised both her eyebrows and folded her arms “the fact that you’re being so defensive about this just further proves my point” She said in a sing-song voice. “I gotta go Ronnie” I replied standing up from my seat and walking out the classroom “I only say this cause’ I care” she yelled after me.  

Making my way towards the newsroom, I’d never felt so nervous in my life, like get a grip girlie it was just your friend, surely this whole not speaking to me thing was just, not even a big deal and I was hyping it all up. I was still going to have a go at him though because he was angry when Archie ditched him and now he’s okay with doing it to me? Not on my watch.

I had the math book in my hand as I was walking up to the door of the newsroom, I had my best ‘pissed off face’ going on I was ready.

I had my hand almost on the doorknob when I took a quick glance through the doors glass window. That was when my stomach fell, my jaw dropped and my heart involuntarily shattered. It was just a glimpse that’s all I could allow myself to watch, but inside that dusty old newsroom was one Jughead Jones kissing Elizabeth Cooper. The feelings hit me like a truck, and then everything went numb.

I didn’t know what to do so without giving any sign I was there I dropped the math book and ran, I ran out of the school I ran past pops and all the way home. By this time the tears were free falling, I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t care. Once I was in the safety of being inside my house with the door locked I gave in to my emotions and just slid down to the floor.

Wow, I felt so stupid and so naive, why didn’t I see this coming, it all made perfect sense now. I guess this was me also coming to terms with the fact that as usual Ronnie was right, I was painfully in love with Jug and now I was too late to ever do anything about it.

The more I sat there and thought about it the more I came to realise that this was my fault. I held Jug up to this crazy high standard and just assumed it would always be him and me at the end of the day. I had sacrificed so much to hang out with him, to keep my “image”, I avoided making too many other friends, I avoided parties, extracurricular activities you name it I wasn’t a part of it. Now it was all going to change, it had to change. Maybe this was the wake-up call I needed. I had to work on myself, be better, be stronger. Most of all this needed to happen because this meant I could quite literally not be around Jughead anymore, I think seeing or talking to him would make me cry, something the new me will NOT be doing.

I picked myself up off the floor and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. “Get a grip Y/N, ” I told myself staring into the mirror. It’s like as soon as I come to terms with the feelings I think I may have had for years, I have to immediately try to get rid of them. I think this was a coping mechanism for me, and I think the reason I’ve never let myself admit that I had feelings for him before was because I fear rejection so much so very much, and I had to do what I knew would keep him around and that was to continue to be his friend. Well, little girl it’s time to grow up.

And what’s the best way to look more mature and confident, change your style. From what I’ve witnessed from the media, what you wear can have a profound impact on how people view you. This is what I had to do first, get rid of the “old me” look. This meant bye grey cap, bye dark lipstick ( I mean what was I even trying to do with that? Look like a corpse?) (oh wow corpse jokes really funny, maybe a bit too real in light of recent circumstances.) And also a very big goodbye to my jeans and army jacket, that would have to go too.

Looking through my closet it was apparent I didn’t have much to work with, I would definitely have to go shopping this weekend, I’ll bring Ronnie and Kevin along, they know fashion and are probably more than willing to help me out. AH HUH eureka! The dress I’ve been looking for! About two months ago I bought this really nice burgundy skater dress that I was planning to wear on a summer trip away, but when that got cancelled I never really had an excuse to wear it, until now. It showed a lot of leg, which I was surprisingly pretty comfortable with. The thought of people seeing me in this tomorrow made me feel a mixture of excitement and nausea.

The next thing that would change was the hair; no more would it be hidden by a cap and just randomly pulled back behind my face. I would wear it down and give it a curl. I think that would give me a nice elegant edge. God, I really don’t think anyone’s even going to recognise me tomorrow, kinda funny really. The next thing I had to do was go on to the school website and look for an extracurricular I would be willing to do. Hopefully, this would be a good way to make new friends and keep me busy.

I went and grabbed my laptop from my desk, as I did this I heard my phone vibrate, which meant I had a message. The name that made the screen light up made my heart skip a few beats, it was from Jug Hey, I just found my math book outside the newsroom? Why did you leave it there and not come inside? SIGH, reading that was like a knife to my chest, I immediately deleted the message, this may be immature but I needed time, I can’t bring myself to talk to him and if he can do it to me I can sure as hell do it to him. 

Shaking those thoughts away I was brought back to the task at hand. Logging onto the schools web page I found the list of extracurricular activities going on at Riverdale high. Chess club? Pass. Girl’s soccer? Hard pass.  Mathletes? No way in hell. Come on there has to be something here. After fifteen minutes of looking to no avail I scrolled past the extracurricular activities. Eventually I saw an ad posted by the she-devil herself Cheryl Blossom, apparently, one of the river vixens had broken her ankle and a new vixen was needed immediately, auditions were tomorrow after school. Hmm, could I do this? Maybe I could? The old me would never dream of being a cheerleader but the new me, maybe she could. You know what, fuck it. It was decided, I caught myself slightly smiling as I clicked ‘attend’ on the event. It felt like a breath of fresh air, tomorrow I would walk into school confident and new. I was going to cure my own broken heart. I just hoped a run in with Jughead wouldn’t make it all come crashing down.

anonymous asked:

What are other books/series that you'd recommend that are in the same vein as Animorphs?

Honestly, your ask inspired me to get off my butt and finally compile a list of the books that I reference with my character names in Eleutherophobia, because in a lot of ways that’s my list of recommendations right there: I deliberately chose children’s and/or sci-fi stories that deal really well with death, war, dark humor, class divides, and/or social trauma for most of my character names.  I also tend to use allusions that either comment on Animorphs or on the source work in the way that the names come up.

That said, here are The Ten Greatest Animorphs-Adjacent Works of Literature According to Sol’s Totally Arbitrary Standards: 

1. A Ring of Endless Light, Madeline L’Engle

  • This is a really good teen story that, in painfully accurate detail, captures exactly what it’s like to be too young to really understand death while forced to confront it anyway.  I read it at about the same age as the protagonist, not that long after having suffered the first major loss in my own life (a friend, also 14, killed by cancer).  It accomplished exactly what a really good novel should by putting words to the experiences that I couldn’t describe properly either then or now.  This isn’t a light read—its main plot is about terminal illness, and the story is bookended by two different unexpected deaths—but it is a powerful one. 

2. The One and Only Ivan, K.A. Applegate 

  • This prose novel (think an epic poem, sort of like The Iliad, only better) obviously has everything in it that makes K.A. Applegate one of the greatest children’s authors alive: heartbreaking tragedy, disturbing commentary on the human condition, unforgettably individuated narration, pop culture references, and poop jokes.  Although I’m mostly joking when I refer to Marco in my tags as “the one and only” (since this book is narrated by a gorilla), Ivan does remind me of Marco with his sometimes-toxic determination to see the best of every possible situation when grief and anger allow him no other outlet for his feelings and the terrifying lengths to which he will go in order to protect his found family.

3. My Teacher Flunked the Planet, Bruce Coville

  • Although the entire My Teacher is an Alien series is really well-written and powerful, this book is definitely my favorite because in many ways it’s sort of an anti-Animorphs.  Whereas Animorphs (at least in my opinion) is a story about the battle for personal freedom and privacy, with huge emphasis on one’s inner identity remaining the same even as one’s physical shape changes, My Teacher Flunked the Planet is about how maybe the answer to all our problems doesn’t come from violent struggle for personal freedoms, but from peaceful acceptance of common ground among all humans.  There’s a lot of intuitive appeal in reading about the protagonists of a war epic all shouting “Free or dead!” before going off to battle (#13) but this series actually deconstructs that message as blind and excessive, especially when options like “all you need is love” or “no man is an island” are still on the table.

4. Moon Called, Patricia Briggs

  • I think this book is the only piece of adult fiction on this whole list, and that’s no accident: the Mercy Thompson series is all about the process of adulthood and how that happens to interact with the presence of the supernatural in one’s life.  The last time I tried to make a list of my favorite fictional characters of all time, it ended up being about 75% Mercy Thompson series, 24% Animorphs, and the other 1% was Eugenides Attolis (who I’ll get back to in my rec for The Theif).  These books are about a VW mechanic, her security-administrator next door neighbor, her surgeon roommate, her retail-working best friend and his defense-lawyer boyfriend, and their cybersecurity frenemy.  The fact that half those characters are supernatural creatures only serves to inconvenience Mercy as she contemplates how she’s going to pay next month’s rent when a demon destroyed her trailer, whether to get married for the first time at age 38 when doing so would make her co-alpha of a werewolf pack, what to do about the vampires that keep asking for her mechanic services without paying, and how to be a good neighbor to the area ghosts that only she can see.  

5. The Thief, Megan Whalen Turner

  • This book (and its sequel A Conspiracy of Kings) are the ones that I return to every time I struggle with first-person writing and no Animorphs are at hand.  Turner does maybe the best of any author I’ve seen of having character-driven plots and plot-driven characters.  This book is the story of five individuals (with five slightly different agendas) traveling through an alternate version of ancient Greece and Turkey with a deceptively simple goal: they all want to work together to steal a magical stone from the gods.  However, the narrator especially is more complicated than he seems, which everyone else fails to realize at their own detriment. 

6. Homecoming, Cynthia Voight

  • Critics have compared this book to a modern, realistic reimagining of The Boxcar Children, which always made a lot of sense to me.  It’s the story of four children who must find their own way from relative to relative in an effort to find a permanent home, struggling every single day with the question of what they will eat and how they will find a safe place to sleep that night.  The main character herself is one of those unforgettable heroines that is easy to love even as she makes mistake after mistake as a 13-year-old who is forced to navigate the world of adult decisions, shouldering the burden of finding a home for her family because even though she doesn’t know what she’s doing, it’s not like she can ask an adult for help.  Too bad the Animorphs didn’t have Dicey Tillerman on the team, because this girl shepherds her family through an Odysseus-worthy journey on stubbornness alone.

7. High Wizardry, Diane Duane

  • The Young Wizards series has a lot of good books in it, but this one will forever be my favorite because it shows that weird, awkward, science- and sci-fi-loving girls can save the world just by being themselves.  Dairine Callahan was the first geek girl who ever taught me it’s not only okay to be a geek girl, but that there’s power in empiricism when properly applied.  In contrast to a lot of scientifically “smart” characters from sci-fi (who often use long words or good grades as a shorthand for conveying their expertise), Dairine applies the scientific method, programming theory, and a love of Star Wars to her problem-solving skills in a way that easily conveys that she—and Diane Duane, for that matter—love science for what it is: an adventurous way of taking apart the universe to find out how it works.  This is sci-fi at its best. 

8. Dr. Franklin’s Island, Gwyneth Jones

  • If you love Animorphs’ body horror, personal tragedy, and portrayal of teens struggling to cope with unimaginable circumstances, then this the book for you!  I’m only being about 80% facetious, because this story has all that and a huge dose of teen angst besides.  It’s a loose retelling of H.G. Wells’s classic The Island of Doctor Moreau, but really goes beyond that story by showing how the identity struggles of adolescence interact with the identity struggles of being kidnapped by a mad scientist and forcibly transformed into a different animal.  It’s a survival story with a huge dose of nightmare fuel (seriously: this book is not for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or anyone who skips the descriptions of skin melting and bones realigning in Animorphs) but it’s also one about how three kids with a ton of personal differences and no particular reason to like each other become fast friends over the process of surviving hell by relying on each other.  

9. Sideways Stories from Wayside School, Louis Sachar

  • Louis Sachar is the only author I’ve ever seen who can match K.A. Applegate for nihilistic humor and absurdist horror layered on top of an awesome story that’s actually fun for kids to read.  Where he beats K.A. Applegate out is in terms of his ability to generate dream-like surrealism in these short stories, each one of which starts out hilariously bizarre and gradually devolves into becoming nightmare-inducingly bizarre.  Generally, each one ends with an unsettling abruptness that never quite relieves the tension evoked by the horror of the previous pages, leaving the reader wondering what the hell just happened, and whether one just wet one’s pants from laughing too hard or from sheer existential terror.  The fact that so much of this effect is achieved through meta-humor and wordplay is, in my opinion, just a testament to Sachar’s huge skill as a writer. 

10. Magyk, Angie Sage

  • As I mentioned, the Septimus Heap series is probably the second most powerful portrayal of the effect of war on children that I’ve ever encountered; the fact that the books are so funny on top of their subtle horror is a huge bonus as well.  There are a lot of excellent moments throughout the series where the one protagonist’s history as a child soldier (throughout this novel he’s simply known as “Boy 412″) will interact with his stepsister’s (and co-protagonist’s) comparatively privileged upbringing.  Probably my favorite is the moment when the two main characters end up working together to kill a man in self-defense, and the girl raised as a princess makes the horrified comment that she never thought she’d actually have to kill someone, to which her stepbrother calmly responds that that’s a privilege he never had; the ensuing conversation strongly implies that his psyche has been permanently damaged by the fact that he was raised to kill pretty much from infancy, but all in a way that is both child-friendly and respectful of real trauma.  
Alone- Part 1

Based on a prompt line; “Don’t leave me behind.”


Warnings; Fighting, Feelings of Worthlessness

Words; 1,249

A/N; Honestly I’m not really sure where I’m going with this. If you want a part 2 though let me know!! Feedback is encouraged! :)

Pairings; Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

-
It had been almost 3 years since Bucky became an avenger. And it had been almost 3 years since you developed the biggest crush ever.

He had sauntered into the compound and looked at you with those piercing blue eyes and that was it. Ever since then you’d been inseparable. The bestest friends ever, but that was it, nothing more.

The only other person who knew about your feelings was your best friend Nat. She’d been trying to encourage you to tell Bucky how you felt for years but you couldn’t, you were almost positive that he didn’t see you that way and didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

You always told her “Something is better than nothing.” To which she’d dramatically roll her eyes.

You were looking down at the book you were currently reading but couldn’t focus on the words. All you could hear was the high pitched giggling coming from the kitchen and every note pierced your heart. It was one of the many girls Bucky would bring over when he was ‘lonely’.

He strolled over to you, coffee in hand. “Hey doll, whatcha readin’?” He asked as he sat down next to you and handed you the hot mug.  

You smiled and grabbed the coffee from him. “Thanks Buck. It’s uh-”

He grabbed the book from your lap before you could protest and read aloud. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

He paused for a second, his cheeks going lightly pink and looked at you. Your eyes met and it seemed like his eyes glossed over before he let out a loud awkward chuckle.

What the hell was that about? You thought.

His eyes were still lingering on you as the blonde girl came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly and turned to look at her. “Honey we should let her read, come on let’s go back to bed.” She purred. He looked visibly uncomfortable as he stood up and followed her down the hall.

As you stared into your mug urging your eyes not to water and trying to suppress the stabbing feeling in your chest, you missed when Bucky turned back to look at you, a hopeless longing in his eyes.

* * *


A few hours later you were in your workout gear pummeling a punching bag, imagining a certain blonde.

Why couldn’t you be enough, why couldn’t he see you as more. What were you doing wrong.

Why. Why. WHY.


You felt hands touch your waist and turned just as fast sweeping their legs out from under them. There was a thud and an “Ow! (y/n)!”

Steve was laying splayed out on his back looking vengeful.

“Oh Steve! I’m sorry! Instinct.” You shrugged as you helped him up.

“It’s okay it was my fault, shouldn’t have snuck up on ya like that.” He smirked. “So what’s got ya so angry?” He pointed at the still swaying punching bag.

“Honestly I don’t even want to talk about it.” You sighed.

“Wanna practice then? We do have a mission tomorrow.” He smirked again inching towards you.

“Rogers, don’t even try.” You ran at him flipping over his shoulders and he turned slowly, not expecting it.

Just then Bucky walked by the door of the training room, but you were too distracted by Steve to notice.

He sauntered over to you and got right up in your face. Grinning he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. You were always very fond of Steve and had a flirty relationship but never took it any further. With one swift movement he took you down and was straddling your hips  inches away from your face.

Bucky couldn’t watch any longer, a lump growing in his throat as he walked away feeling defeated.

Just as he left you flipped Steve over and put him in a head lock. “I win!” You sang cheerfully.

There was clapping from behind you and you both turned to see Nat walking in. “I want in on this!”


The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon training together until you were all too tired and sweaty.

* * *

The next morning you met in the hanger fully dressed in your gear. This mission wasn’t going to be all of you. It was just a simple mission to retrieve information from a Hydra base.

As you, Bucky, Steve and Nat got into the quinjet you tried to make eye contact with Bucky but he wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Alright, Nat and I will go in through the front and (y/n) and Bucky will go through the back.” Steve said over the comm. “You two will take out anyone in your way and get to the communications room, there should be computers. Back up the information to a USB and get out of there as fast as you can. Nat and I will check for prisoners and take out anyone else. Everyone understand?”

We all nodded in unison. Thirty minutes later everyone was in position. You and Bucky made your way inside, working together to take out the four guards blocking the door. He still wouldn’t meet your gaze as you crept down the dark hallways. A man came from your left, you didn’t see him in time and there was a direct hit to your side, you crumpled to the ground as you heard Buckys metal arm hit the guy and he went down.

Bucky helped you to your feet, your face only inches apart. “Watch yourself next time.” He said in a flat tone as he turned to walk down the hall.

You reached out and grabbed his hand to pull him back. “What did I do that made you so upset?” You asked quietly.

His cold eyes bored into yours. “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend.”

You stood there shocked. “My-my what?”

He pulled his hand out of your grasp. “This isn’t the time for this.” He said as he turned and walked down the hallway turning into a room a few doors down.

Once you were in the room you told Steve and Nat over the comm that you had begun transferring the information.

When the screen read 94% there was yelling outside of the room you and Bucky were standing in.

He looked over at you and nodded. “Stay here, make sure it’s done.” With that he left the room.

95%

Someone was thrown against the door.

96%

There was a gun shot and a loud yell.

97%

The door crashed in, Bucky and another man rolled into the room.

98%

They both stood, the other man had noticed you. You reached for your gun.

99%

There was a bang. Then a lot of pain, you looked down to see thick red blood coming from your stomach. You fell to the ground.

100%

Bucky walked over to you, glanced down and took out the USB. You could see him saying something over the comm but couldn’t make it out. Your vision was starting to fade in and out.

He started to walk out of the room.

He was leaving? Why is he leaving? You thought urgently. Don’t.

“Don’t leave me behind.” It came out as a whisper but he tensed and you could tell he had heard you. Your eyes locked on his and your vision went black. 


-

If you want to be tagged in any future writing, let me know xx

Missing You and You Only

“I’m glad you could make it,” Ethan rasped, his voice groggy from the morning and arising from the dead of sleep. Truthfully, he hadn’t had that peaceful of a sleep in a long time, more specifically, in a couple months -since the last time he was home with you.

Keep reading