“Y/N, you are late once again.” Captain Mendez noted when he saw you run towards your desk in hurry.
You smiled sheepishly, “I’m sorry, Captain, it’s just that the alarm –”
“– wasn’t working and you overslept, I know.” he finished, causing you to blush in embarrassment at his comment.
You worked as a Forensic Photographer for the Central City Police Department. You were actually very good at what you did, but the only problem was your punctuality. Though you did have reasonable excuses on why you always slept late, and it usually involved your work and investigations about it.
Captain Mendez handed you a folder, “Anyway, care to take these files to Mr. Allen? He claims he can’t find his copies.”
You grabbed it and furrowed your eyebrows. “Why would he lose important files? He usually keeps them organized.”
“That’s the same thing I’ve been wondering about. And you know, he also looked kinda lost.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
The Captain shrugged, “He asked about a guy named ‘Singh’ and he looked genuinely surprised that I’m the captain. Might have had too many drinks last night.”
You chuckled. “Maybe.” you said, “Well, I’ll just go ahead and give these to him.”
He nodded. “Sure, you do that.”
You turned around and headed towards the stairs.
You and Barry had a healthy co-worker relationship. The both of you used to attend the same school when you were younger, and were even considered as best friends. But when the two of you grew older and attended different universities, you lost touch and became distant to one another. Nonetheless, once you saw each other again, even learning that you were going to be working in the same building, your friendship with Barry was easily restored.
[ BARRY’S POV ]
It was surreal. This whole brand new world was absolutely surreal for Barry Allen.
The moment he was aware that he was in another timeline, he visited his mother and father. He talked to them until they grew tired and asked for sleep, oblivious to how Barry was close to tears the whole night he spent with them. And then the next day he visited CCPD where he coincidentally still worked at.
He was still getting used to the changes, like his lab seemed to be bigger and more advanced than his previous one. Barry found himself slowly falling in love with this new life he was living.
“Barry?” an unfamiliar voice pulled him away from his thoughts.
He looked at the doorway and saw someone he never expected to see again.
You were smiling at him, your soft [eye color] eyes meeting him in an instant. You still had your hair in the same style, and your features had matured from the last time Barry saw you. He couldn’t help but slightly let his jaw fall in shock.
You entered his lab, “Hey, Captain Mendez wanted me to give you this.” you dropped the folder in front of him.
Barry didn’t hide the fact that his eyes were travelling up and down your body. You noticed this and instead of growing uncomfortable, smirked.
“Allen, I know I’m hot but can’t you have some restraint?” you teased.
“Uh, what?” Barry broke away from his trance.
You raised an eyebrow. “The Captain was right, you do seem a little lost. Was last night a little bit too fun?” you continued with your teasing.
Barry stood up from his seat, “Y/N, is this really you?”
“Yes … and you are starting to freak me out.” you answered.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that, I can’t believe that you’re here.” he admitted.
You were even more confused than ever by the way he was acting.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked him.
Barry recalled the memory of your death in the original timeline. He could remember how painful it felt to lose another special person in his life once again, this time you, who were one of the reasons why he believed he could live a happy life after all even though his mother was gone and his father was in prison. But when you died due to a car crash, Barry’s world lost it’s meaning and he felt the exact pain and loneliness he felt when his mom died.
You tilted your head to the side when he still didn’t answer. “Barry, are you alright? You’re not on drugs or anything because that would get you into deep —”
Before you can even finish what you were saying, Barry pulled you in a hug. You were surprised at the affection he was showing you but nonetheless returned the gesture, awkwardly patting his back in the process.
“What’s this for?” you inquired.
But Barry didn’t answer, he just held you, and it didn’t seem like he was planning to let you go.
Can i request a prompt with Matt (daredevil) getting upset with you because you don't take your own safety seriously enough, kinda like forgetting to lock the door at night or walking alone by yourself Thank you!!
“For once would you just take your own safety seriously, Y/N!” You’d never heard Matthew Murdock yell until that moment, and he was yelling at you…
“I do!” Why wouldn’t you be serious about your own safety? You knew how dangerous Hell’s Kitchen was, you weren’t daft!
“No you don’t, how many times have I found your door unlocked or you walking alone at night? You can’t keep doing this…” You watched Matt pace up and down the room, he was right…you did forget to lock your door at night…but that wasn’t really your fault was it? You couldn’t help it if you thought you’d locked it and you hadn’t, right?
“And why not? It’s not as if I mean to forget to lock my door or like I have a choice but to walk home from work alone!” Why couldn’t you just live your life as you did, why did Matt have to always get involved and always get so angry at you…you hadn’t it when he got angry at you…and now you hated it when he yelled at you.
“Because it scares me okay? I’m scared for you, i’m scared that i’m going find you beaten up or dead down some alley way or that i’m going to get a call from the hospital or heaven forbid the morgue, i’m scared, okay? So I need you to look after yourself because I can’t always do it for you!”
“Matt…” and in that moment you understood…he wasn’t angry, he was scared…he just wanted you to be safe and you were wearing him down bit by bit by not being safe and by putting yourself in a situation that could be avoided.
“Please…just promise you’ll try…” You watched him rub at his forehead looking infinitesimally older than he was as if the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders and all he needed was you to take a little bit off it away.
“I’ll try, I promise…I don’t…I don’t mean to scare you…”
Prompt: The reader gets out of the shower and sees a show she hasn’t seen in awhile.
Pairing: Chris Evans
You loved Chris’s arms. You felt safe when you cuddled with him, Warm in those chilly nights, and those times when he would hold you when you finished intimate acts. Those veins in his arms always made you feel some type of way. You loved it when he lifted weights and they would show more. When he was just stretching, You would stare at them. He knew you would, And that’s why he always did something involving his arms. You knew he knew, And that’s what made it even better.
You just finished taking a shower, And we’re going back into your shared bedroom when you heard a sound. It was a moan. A moan of your name. What was Chris doing now? You looked through the small crack of the door. It looked like Chris didn’t close it completely. You held your towel tightly, Biting your bottom lip. Chris was currently masturbating on the edge of the bed; And you were contemplating on whether to walk in there and help, Or just… Watch.
Taking the second option, You licked your lips, Watching his strong big hands pump his erect cock; The veins on his arms visible, Turning you on. His head was thrown back, Eyes closed and he looked like he was in pure bliss. You started to drag your finger through your folds, Teasing yourself. His pumps started to increase, Moans increasing in volume also. He probably still thinks you’re in the shower. You slipped a finger inside of you, Making sure to keep your mouth closed so you wouldn’t make any sound.
The towel fell on the floor with a ‘small thud’ and you cursed, And looked in the room again. Looks like Chris didn’t notice. Quickly going to back to pleasuring yourself, Two fingers slip inside you now; Small moans now escaping from your throat. You could tell Chris was going to cum, And you increased your speed.
“(N-Name)” He moans, Looking down at his hand stroking his cock.
“Chris..” Your moan is small, Hoping you don’t distract him.
He stopped his stroking, And you thought he heard you, Quickly going to grab the towel; Only to realize he was teasing himself. Making his wanting to release become stronger. Licking your dry lips, You tease yourself also, Your fingers caressing your clit and slipping between your wet folds. He fondled his balls, Moaning. He sure wanted to cum.
“Chris..” You moaned a bit louder; But not loud enough for him to hear it.
He stroked his cock teasingly, His hips buckling on his hand to continue. He got tired of teasing, Then started stroking his cock quickly, Wanting to cum. Slamming two fingers inside you, You imagine your mouth around his warm and delicious cock, Tasting his precum and deepthroating him just like he likes it. Fondling his balls and sucking on the tip of his cock; Sliding your tongue up and down on that sensitive vein on his, Feeling his strong hands grab your hair and push you farther into his cock.
You pinched and pulled your nipples just like he would, Biting your bottom lip so you could refrain from moaning so loud. He was in the peak of cumming, And you go the fastest speed you can go, Your fingers buried deep in your pussy. His breathing was quick, And his head flew back, Eyes closed tightly. He started cumming, His cum landing on the carpet and on his thighs. His stroked his cock slowly, Coming down from his high.
You cummed hard, Your juices covering your fingers and thighs. You came down from your high also, Grabbing the towel for another shower. Chris took the tissues and cleaned the carpet, Cleaning himself when he was done with the carpet. His eyes met yours for a split seconds, And you made a beeline for the shower. You needed another one since you were sweating lightly.
Stepping out of the bathroom, You see Chris in the kitchen, Probably making dinner.
“Hey babe” You walk into the room, Eyeing the bed. You could still see the shape of his ass on the edge of the bed. It made you feel wet once more.
“That shower took awfully long. I’m surprised you’re not wrinkly” He chuckled.
“Hey!” You pout, Smiling.
You throw your towel on the bed, Searching your panties and bra. You could feel him behind you, And you smirked.
His hands ghost around your hips, And you quickly turn around, Meeting his hungry gaze.
“You didn’t think I would know you were there?” He smirks, Pulling you closer to him.
“How-” Your eyes widened.
“I heard you practically begging for me” He bit your earlobe, And you gripped his shirt.
“You got off just watching me. That’s naughty (Name)” He whispered huskily, And you smirk.
“What are you going to do about it.. Captain?” He shuddered, Making you smile.
“You wont be able to walk for days (Name)”
“I wouldn’t mind”
You jump onto his arms, Wrapping your arms around his waist, Kissing him hungrily and sloppily.
He threw you onto the bed, His eyes dark with lust and hunger. You could feel his semi-hard cock on your thigh, And you traced his abs.
“You were just teasing me weren’t you? You stopped just to tease me. Smart” Winking, You lick your lips.
“Now it’s bad when I tease you?” He smirks.
“You turned off the stove didn’t you?”
“Wasn’t even on to start with. Was just waiting for you to leave the shower”
You grab his cock, Stroking it through his pants.
“Well. What’re you waiting for?”
“Oh no sweetheart” He takes off his pants, Keeping the belt in hand; Making you wetter than you already were.
“Ok,” Dan said, taking a deep breath as you walked side by side towards the front door behind which the not-so-surprise surprise party lay. “Halfing the attention with you means halfing the chance of me doing something cringey. Or at least the chance of someone seeing me do something cringey.”
“You won’t do anything cringey.”
“God. All I ever really want for my birthday is to sit at home on my computer, eat good food, and be left alone. Why do other people always have to be involved?” he asked.
“Thanks,” you teased, nudging him a bit. You stood now in front of the door, neither of you making a move to open it.
“No, hang on, that’s not what I meant,” he said, shaking his head. “Actually…hanging out with just you…eating food–that sounds pretty ok.”
“That sounds kind of like a date,” you told him. He looked down at you and cleared his throat. His next words still came out quiet.
“Yeah. It does. Maybe sometime you and I…” he hesitated, licked his lips before opening his mouth to try again, but the front door swung open with Phil behind it, and light from inside flooded onto the front porch.
“Happy birthdays!” Phil shouted along with the chorus of people behind him in the house. Dan had turned quickly from you, a forced smile on his face, but as he moved to step into the joint party being thrown for the two of you, he snuck his hand into yours and gave it a squeeze.
So I have a job but my Bestfriend don't have one so I always pay for her.I mean like I pay for EVERYTHING from the weed we smoke,the food she eat when we go out and her transportation to get places.By the end of the weekend after my payday most of my check is gone.Shes had interviews but hasn't got hired.We been friends for about a year now and we're really close but I hate how I go broke just by hanging out with my Bestfriend.Payday next Friday and I worked hard for this money.What should I do?
Why do you guys always have to do stuff that involves money? For example I currently don’t have a job either and my wifey (my best friend) is working but I still wouldn’t do anything with her that I couldn’t afford by myself. My wifey and I do a lot of stuff that doesn’t cost a thing, like taking a walk, just chilling at each other’s houses. Seriously you do not have to pay for your best friend.
Sometimes Derek really hates his sister. His phone vibrates for the third time and he sighs, tearing his eyes away from the guy behind the counter to read the latest messages.
Cora: RU gonna do it? Cora: U HAVE TO SOMETIME Cora: DOOOO ITTTTTTTT Cora: TODAY. OR U WILL DIEEEE
Cora: TRUE. YOU CANNOT SURVIVE PINING MUCH LONGER Cora: U CANNOT KISS CUTE COFFE BOY UNTIL YOU PROFESS YOUR DESPERATE NEED TO KISS CCB
She does, however obnoxiously, have a point there.
Cora: on the other hand if he shoots u down I won’t have my coffee bitch anymore. Cora: nvm Cora: be chickenshit and keep pining and bringing me free coffee Cora: tho u could actually ask him his name at least
Also a fair point. The guy’s nametag starts with an S, but the rest of the name has been painted over with whiteout and an unintelligible scribble of letters laid overtop it.
Derek puts his phone back in his pocket as the young woman ahead of him in line finishes giving her order. He waits for a moment as the girl drifts sideways as she fiddles with getting her credit card back into her wallet. It also gives him a chance to try and gather his courage a bit before he’ll have to step up and speak actual words of some sort. The girl moves before he’s decided which awkward sentence to go with, and he feels the sinking sensation of it being too late to salvage as the space opens in front of him.
“–Shinichi Kudo, high school detective. I’m staying with my childhood friend and her father at his private detective agency in order to track down the syndicate which poisoned me and shrunk my body, and that line of work leads to getting involved in a lot of homicide cases.”
Oh, god, that had spilled from his mouth at a moment’s notice. All he’d been trying to do was get from Professor Agasa’s house back to the Mouri Detective Agency without incident (so he could go straight to bed and wait for Haibara’s horrible concoction to wear off), so of course fate dictated this would be the time for a stranger to accost him.
Hopefully adding a big, childish smile to that statement would make them think it was just outlandish storytelling - a child’s overactive imagination. Surely no sensible person would even imagine a drug like APTX-4869, which had a one-in-a-million chance of regressing a body to childhood, could be real…
“One day a girl near Irondequoit
went missing. Her mother was convinced that the girl was raped and
murdered by a local farmer. Every night she went out into the marshy
lands to find the place where her daughter was buried. She took two
dogs with her, aiding in her search. She never found a single trace.
In her grief she through herself into lake Ontario.
Nowadays people claim to see the
White Lady on foggy nights, attacking men on the behalf of her
“Okay seriously Sam that is
enough. Don’t tell me shit like that, I’m scared of ghost stories.”
“Y/N you’re a hunter you can’t be
scared of ghosts.” Sam laughs, looking back at you in the rearview
mirror. Dean was looking amused as well but didn’t say anything. He
just laughed quietly, which wasn’t any better to be honest.
“I can and I am! Hunting with you
is horrible why do you always pick the cases where ghosts are
involved. How about we hunt some demons or leviathans? Yeah…they
were great, no ghostyness there.”
They didn’t listen to you, they
never did. You ended up in a cheap motel room while Sam did research
and Dean went out to get some snacks. Probably beer and pie. You
wouldn’t count that as snacks but you hadn’t much hope Dean would
come back with something normal.
“You know I saw this really
interesting article. Looks like people are disappearing under strange
circumstances, could be vampires. Isn’t that worth checking out. I
think I should really go and look into it.”
“We can all check it out together
once we’re finished here.” Sam says in a sing-sang voice, smiling
to himself about the fact that you tried to get them away from this
case again, “Besides I need you here. Your little trick is pretty
useful when it comes to ghosts.”
With ‘little trick’ he meant the
fact that you could sense whenever ghosts were around. Or rather they
seemed to gather around you. You weren’t sure how exactly but somehow
you caused a change in the electromagnetic fields that draw them
near. This had happened to your since you were little and it hadn’t
always been fun. Not all of them were dangerous but some were.
Dealing with ghosts, being a 10-year old girl had been hard,
especially since no one had believed you. When you got older you
became a hunter but your encounters as a child never quite left you
and you were still scared of them. You weren’t really scared of any
other supernatural creatures but ghosts just did it for you.
Sam decided he wanted to check out
the place where the recent sightings had been and left Dean a note
where you were going.
“This is a stupid idea.” You
mumble, walking besides Sam.
“Let’s split up for a bit and
cover more ground.”
Walking around in an empty park at
night was already creepy enough but expecting a ghost to pop up
anytime made it ten times worse. The wind was picking up and at first
you didn’t think much about it when it suddenly got colder. When you
turned around eventually you saw that it hadn’t been the wind causing
the temperature shift.
“Saaaaam oh my god help me, help,
help, help.” You come running in his direction and almost tackle
him to the ground, running away from the figure clad in white.
“Looks like you really found her.”
“Stop smiling like that, there’s
nothing good about this!”
“Okay, okay. Come on let’s get out
“You’re not going to finish this
now?” You say exhausted, not wanting to come back here again.
“I actually don’t know where her
bones are yet. I just wanted to make sure there really is a ghost.”
“Surprise there sure is.” You
say with a sarcastic undertone.
“You really are scared of them,
“Can we just go now pleeease.”
You start to whine, tugging on Sam’s sleeve.
“Yeah.” He smiles and takes your
hand, “Come on we’re going back now.”
It’s only gone and happened. They’ve let me loose on this thing. Which in my mind can only mean one thing… I haven’t done enough damage in Fridgecam to warrant a full-on social media blackout. Yet. To be honest I’m loving that we’re able to do these blogs and the thought that perhaps 6 or 7 of you may even read it is an added bonus.
I’m relatively new to Tumblr. My first experience of it was last year when Jamie forwarded me a link to a blog he’d been sent via twitter. I scrolled down the page and soon found my picture sat innocuously below a gif of two consenting adults being very friendly to each other… In 256 colours, on a loop. This was it; I’d made it!!
Once I’d finished showing my mum, I browsed around (having left the page) and realised that actually, Tumblr was a microcosm of sometimes brilliant, sometimes hilarious and sometimes mostly weird products of what happens when you give creative free reign to us lot who live on the internet.
The fact is we are all in a really cool place right now. To have the ability to be creative in whatever it is we enjoy and then being able to share that with people from all over the globe is a real privilege. From videos, to photos, to illustrations, webpages, music, whatever… the chance to do what it is you love and have that seen by other people who also love it is more possible than ever.
We at sorted are testament to the fact that any old goofbags can have the same combined interest and get it seen by hundreds of thousands of people across the world should illustrate to anyone that it is possible. That’s why we always bang on about getting you involved. Whether it’s in comment of the week, #eyecandysorted photos, video comments, Google + hangouts, jingle writing for Fridgecams, tweets, gifs, ridiculous blog posts, we want you on board.
If you’ve never done any of the above now is the time to start. Let’s make the coolest place for food on the internet right here!
could you please do a bucky x reader where you guys ""hate each other"" and you guys have a huge argument before a mission, and you end up getting severley hurt and he feels bad like it's his fault? please and thank you!!
mmmMMMMMM BOI HERE COMES THE FEELS. these fucking requests will be the death of me goodbyee
i feel like this is kinda long compared to my other stories but i think it’s alright, because the prompt is so good i thought it deserved mmore words? idk you tell me. requests are closed for now, but feel free to send me feedback. and for those of you interested in sending me requests: it’ll be reopened on june 18th. also I would love to know your names or usernames so i can tag you! so dont feel like you gotta be anon :) did that come off weird and creepy? sorry lmao
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 2280
Warnings: read the prompt, and enter at your own risk mwahhahaha
“It’s My Fault”
The sun was shining brightly through the wispy curtains. Outside, the grass was green and dewy with the morning mist and the birds happily chirped about, awakening the world of the rising sun. It was fucking awful.
You chucked the alarm clock onto the ground, definitely breaking it. Hauling your reluctant body out of your comfortable, warm bed, you violently rubbed the sleep out of your face.
“UUUUGGHHH.” An ugly moan escaped your lips as you stood up to go down to kitchen. Not bothering to wash your face or brush your teeth, you just grabbed a soft blanket to cover yourself from the brisk morning.
“Why is it so fucking cold?” is the first thing you say to your team, who are already cleaning up the dishes from breakfast.
“Good morning to you too,” smirk Natasha, passing a coffee mug to Tony, who dries it with a cloth.
You look around furious eyes at the empty breakfast table. “Where. Is. The. Food?” you ask angrily, enunciating every word.
“You missed breakfast by 2 hours,” Steve answers calmly. “There’s some cereal left.”
Without breaking eye contact with Steve, you walk to the fridge to take out the milk and then to the pantry for the cereal. “I hate you,” you whisper, squinting your eyes.
Bucky, who is still eating his food, smiles at your grumpiness. He thought it was cute how angry you got in the morning without food. “You should get some coffee in you first,” he quips. You shoot him a silent stare, daring him to speak another word.
You balance the bowl, spoon, milk, and cereal box to the table and sit down. The prospect of food mitigates your hanger. You smile happily as you open the cereal box, only to have your entire day ruined.
“THERE IS NO FUCKING CEREAL STEVE.” You want to flip the breakfast table over. “You lied,” you hiss with a sudden quietness. Your change in tone scares Steve who claims that he has no idea why there isn’t any cereal.
Then Bucky speaks up for his friend. “Right, I forgot to tell you that there isn’t any more…because I ate it all.”
There is a collective gasp, the team anxiously watching the drama unfold at 10 am. “Holy shit,” someone comments.
You look up slowly from your empty cereal bowl with a twitchy growl on your face. “What?” you heave. “You ate it?”
Bucky nods happily, “Yup.”
His smug look is the last straw. You jump over the table and tackle him to the ground. You grab him by the shirt and shake him aggressively.
“HOW FUCKING DARE YOU? THIS IS THE FOURTH TIME THIS WEEK> HOW MUCH CEREAL DO YOU REQUIRE?” You shout crazily, Bucky’s head bobbing back and forth. This wasn’t the first time that Bucky basically stole your breakfast. It would’ve been okay if he had bought more or at least said sorry, but he would just give you a smug smirk. And you were not for that shit in the morning.
Everyone watched with a small smile, letting you harass him. But Steve stepped in. “Alright, let’s calm down.”
You drop Bucky and grab Steve’s leg, pulling him down onto his butt. “You calm down. Rogers.” With both boys on the ground, you prop yourself up and collect yourself. Smoothing down your hair, you walk back to your room. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.”
Later that day, Clint had suggested that they go to the bar to blow off steam after a week of stress. Everyone agreed and Wanda dragged you along. After this morning’s fiasco, you weren’t in the mood to be near Bucky. But you found yourself among the drunk group. They were playing “Never Have I Ever” and you, being the only relatively sober one, were enjoying watching drunk Steve make a fool of himself. When the game seemed to be going well without you, you slipped out of the booth and made your way to the bar for some solitude. Bucky saw you weave through the crowd and sit at the bar. He contemplated following you, making sure you were okay. But he voted against, thinking that you were still mad about the cereal incident. He kept an eye on you though, making sure that there weren’t any creep lurking around.
At the bar, you ordered your go-to drink and sipped slowly. You watched the nightlife around you, wishing that you could enjoy a normal outing one day. Not that you didn’t love being an Avenger, but you also wondered what it would be like to sit in public without getting looks and getting taken photos of. You sat with a sad smile and sighed heavily. A man, tall and handsome, took a seat next to you and heard your sigh.
“You alright over there?” he asked politely.
At first, you were going to shake him off. But maybe you could talk to him about things that you couldn’t tell any of your friends. This could be your chance at pretending to be normal.
Nursing your drink, you smiled. “Yeah, just…”
“Break-up?” he guessed.
“Yeah,” you lied. “Over text,” you added.
The stranger gasped with disgust, “God, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
You smiled politely, “Thanks, I’m Claire.” He didn’t seem to recognize you, so you decided to take on a different life. Claire, who works at the bank and lives alone. Normal.
“Joseph,” you offered his hand and you shook it.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, do you mind ordering me another drink?”
He shook his head and you walked off. Bucky watched you walk away and turned his attention back to Joseph. Joseph ordered you another drink, but Bucky saw him take out a little bag of something and drop its contents into your drink. Alarmed, Bucky jumped up and strutted to the bar. At the same moment, you were heading back to the bar. You saw Joseph sitting there and Bucky pull him up and punch him. Eyes wide, you ran to the scene and dragged Bucky off of Joseph. Bucky was huffing with rage, shouting angry words at him.
“Bucky, what the fuck?” you shout at him, trying to prevent him from throwing another punch.
Meanwhile, Joseph managed to get up on his feet as he cradled his jaw, his nose bleeding profusely. “You know this guy?”
“Yeah…” you answer. You watched bitterly as Joseph sauntered off, limping slightly. “Damn it Bucky.” You turn around to face him. “What the hell?” you asked exasperated.
“He put something in your drink, I saw him.” He was still out of breathe. At this point, everyone in the bar observed silently.
You took Bucky by the arm and led him out of the bar where you could yell at him without being watched so closely. Once you were out of hearing distance, you looked at Bucky, studying his face and trying to figure out why he had exploded in there.
“What’s your deal?” you ask sternly.
“He put a date drug into your drink,” he repeated. You could tell he was slightly intoxicated.
“You said that already. And also, did you think I was stupid enough to drink something from a stranger? I was just being polite.” Before Bucky could speak, you held your hand up. “I’m not done. Now that I have your tipsy attention, I have more to say. Why do you always get involved with my shit? Like, for example. My cereal? Yeah, it was funny the first couple of times, but now it’s just annoying as fuck. And every time we come out, you make it your job to ruin my night. Another example, tonight. And another one, last week and the week before that and the weeks before that.” You pause, giving Bucky a chance to explain himself. But he’s speechless. He’s struggling to come up with an excuse or reason and you just shake your head slightly.
“Tell the others I’m heading back. I have a mission tomorrow…” you trail off, still waiting for Bucky to say something. But he doesn’t. “Bye Buck.”
He watches you walk away, shoulders drooping and head low. He fucked up. Inside the bar, he sits back down with the team. They’re still drunk, so he decides that it’s time to go back home.
Wanda notices that you didn’t walk back in. “Where’s (Y/n)?” she asks with a hiccup.
“She went back. We should too,” Bucky suggests, grabbing his coat.
“Buck,” Steve says. “You messed up, pal.”
He gave Steve a quizzical look, “What’re you talking about?”
“God, you’re so dumb! He’s talking about (Y/n). We know you like her. We’d be the stupid ones if we couldn’t see it,” Natasha slurs, pointing a bent finger at Buck.
“Seriously, Frosty. We need to work on your relationship skills, or you’ll never be able to get (Y/n).” Tony gets up, gently swaying side to side.
Bucky scoffs at them, “You’re all drunk.”
“Not drunk enough to be completely oblivious to your feelings,” Clint smiles lazily.
The next day, you quietly prepare for the mission and wait in the jet for everyone else. You expect Nat and Steve to be coming with you, but they’ve brought another member: Bucky. You look away, avoiding eye contact with him. Biting your lips, you hope that he doesn’t remember last night. Please be fucking hungover as shit, you pray. Nat mumbles a painful hello, very hungover from last night. But Bucky and Steve seems fine. Damn the super-soldier serum. While everyone else is preparing for lift off, Bucky sits behind you. You here him shaking his leg up and down, which drives you kind of crazy. But you’d rather listen to that than speak to him. It was silly to be mad at him for last night. But you meant what you had said. He’d always get involved in your shit and bugged you out. And the fact that it wasn’t a one time thing was not okay. You just wanted to know why he was bothering you like a third grader with his stupid jokes, but he didn’t say.
The ride was a silent one, and you reached the destination fairly quickly. The location was hot and humid, and you could feel your hair already fizzing up. Your boots sunk into the mud with each step and it made being stealthy difficult. Steve whispered into the coms, directing each person what to do. You had to go into the building and secure the third floor while everyone else was on the first. There wasn’t a second floor anymore because of a bomb, and you’d have to climb your way up.
The air was still and tense, knowing that the enemy was still somewhere near by. But after checking each room, you told Steve.
“Have you checked the back room?” he asks.
You look around and spot the small wooden door, “Not yet.” You slowly walk to the door and kick it open. That’s when the gunshots go off. You were able to avoid some of them, but when you heard Bucky call your name, you lose your focus and get hit in the side. You inhale sharply and place your hand where you got shot. Warm blood oozes from your flesh and you stumble back from another shot to your outer thigh. Everything fades to black and the last thing you hear is Bucky’s voice.
Your surrounding come into focus as your eyes flutter open. Bucky and Wanda jerk awake at the sound of your stirring. When you try to prop yourself up, she comes to your side and gently pushes you back.
“Your wounds are still healing,” she says with a weak smile. Brushing your hair out of your face, she sniffles. “You’re gonna be down for a few weeks.”
“Damn, I hate not working,” you mumble sarcastically.
She chuckles, “I’ll go get the nurse.”
Once she’s out of the room, your eyes roam around the room until you catch Bucky’s. He’s looking at you with a frown, arms crossed defensively.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. He sits down next to your bed and you turn your head away so that you won’t have to look at him. Sensing that you’re still mad, he drops his head and takes a deep breathe, going over the words that he had rehearsed. “I’m sorry about the cereal incidents.” This gets your attention and you slowly face him, suspicion in your look. He continues, “I’m sorry I punched that Jonathan guy. I just…I’m always worried about you. It’s my fault that you got hurt on the mission and…I shouldn’t have called out for you.” He sighs deeply, unable to speak the words he had practiced. “I like you.” You look at him, scanning his posture and expression for any signs of falsity. Right when you’re about to respond, he says the thing that you had been hiding from yourself.
“I love you,” he whispers.
You freeze, holding in your breathe at the news. You gulp down your pride and reach out for his hand, which are clasped tightly on the bed. “Me too.” His head shoots up, surprise written all over his face. “And don’t worry about it, you got me out of work for a while.” You smile kindly at him. Looking into his eyes, you let him lean forward and kiss you on the lips. It was gentle and tender, honest and pure. You kiss back passionately, not satisfied with the softness. But he pulls away when he hears you wince. “We’re gonna have to resume this once I can sit up properly.”
Link to No.1: Alphabet City (Unconnected one shots!)
‘We’re both trying to get our wasted roommates back to our dorms AU’- “I understand that you want taco bell, but you’re about to pass out and I will not be carrying you home tonight.”
Of Singing and Streaking
There was a saying that went, “Friends are the family you choose for yourself,” or something to that effect.
Most times, most times, Emma Swan was a firm supporter of the sentiment. It was hard not to be after all, because she had an excellent group of friends. Hadn’t there been a time, when caught in the grip of what had to be the strongest strain of flu currently known to man, Mary Margaret Blanchard had alternately pampered and coaxed and threatened her into wellness? And wasn’t it so, that in another instance, during the great panic attack of fall 2013 (brought on by a terribly ambitious class load and the finals week from hell) Elsa Aren had calmly and patiently stayed up all night, helping her revise for exams in classes she wasn’t even in? Friends, especially friends like hers, were a blessing, a miracle, to be treasured and loved.
This was the mantra she kept repeating to herself over and over, as one of her very best friends continued in her very loud efforts to serenade the statue of their University’s founder. Emma still wasn’t quite sure what she was going for here, perhaps an effort to make it fall in love with her or kill Emma’s ear drums, but whatever it was, she wished she would stop. Ruby Lucas was many things, fiercely loyal, with a hilarious (occasionally scary) sense of humor as well as being insanely beautiful, a true photographer’s muse with miles of leg and flawless bone structure, but a talented singer, hell, a passable singer, she was not.
@lululawrence, @ilove1dalmation and I are screaming about tattoos because I said I noticed that in interviews that Louis is fidgety and when he sits next to Harry he seems calmer and less fidgety and when he and Harry touch knees is when he seems calmest and least fidgety and then I said Harry grounds him and Louis guides Harry and that’s why they’re anchor and rope and ship and compass and then I casually mentioned that horseshoes were nailed to the masts of ships in the 19th century because sailors believed it would help the ship find its way safely home as they were a good luck omen.