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[blinkybarnes]

hii if your requests are still open could you do 4,5, and 100 for a Ron Weasley x reader

prompt list

4: I just love booping noses5: I promise I won’t do it again100: I like it when you do that

warnings: none

word count: 962

- - - -

Thick logs of wood crackle in orange flames, warm air circulating around the Weasley’s cosy home. Holly leaves hang high on the walls, lining the edge of nearly every wall, and the smell of cinnamon and sugar drift from the kitchen to the living room, where you lie front down on top of Ron. His long body takes up the entire sofa, his red head resting on the arm of the sofa. Your legs are intertwined with one another and your head is resting on his chest. 

It’s Christmas Eve. Pots and pan clatter in the kitchen as Mrs Weasley makes preparations for tomorrows big meal. The other Weasley’s are scattered all over the place, some hidden away in their rooms wrapping last minute presents, some fighting gnomes in the garden and some collecting more firewood, though it isn’t necessary when they’ve got magic to keep the fire alight. 

This year at Hogwarts so far had been a drag, it seemed it you endless amounts of homework and revision, all leading up to your exams later on next year. But now is a stress free time and you remind yourself that you don’t have to think about school work until the new year. However, a little doubt still tugs at your insides. It’s your first time spending Christmas with the Weasley’s. You’ve spent school holidays here before and know the whole family very well, but this time it’s different. You’ve brought presents for each family member and worry whether they’ll like them or not, you want to impress them, seeing as they are your boyfriend’s family. 

Ron’s lanky arms wrap around your middle, he can sense something is bothering you by the small frown on your face. “What’s wrong?” He says, his lips close to the top of your head, brushing your hair as he talks. 

“Nothing.” You mumble, still lost in thought. You ponder through all the gifts you’ve got for each Weasley. What if they’ve gotten you something bigger and better? Something more expensive then what you’ve got them? You know money is a problem within the household but the thought still enters your mind.

You turn your head around and rest your chin on Ron’s chest, so that you’re facing him. “Do you think Ginny will like the ornament of Gwenog Jones I got her?” You ask, thinking of the moving miniature captain of the Holyhead Harpies you found on a Quidditch merchandise stall. “I mean they are her favourite team so maybe she already has it?” 

“They are her favourite team.” Ron says. “But I don’t think she’s got all the players, and even if she has it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“Yeah I suppose.” You mumble. 

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Ron gives you a nudge and you meet his eyes. “No one cares what you get them, it’s you spending time with us is what they care about.” He smiles sweetly down at you and you give a weak smile back. You stare down at the maroon wool of Ron’s jumper. He’s probably right. The Weasley’s have never been one to judge, especially when it’s someone they all care deeply for. 

Ron lifts one of his arms off of your back and brings his hand up to your face. One pale finger reaches out and presses your noise, in doing so a ‘boop’ noise comes from his lips. You look up at him, surprised and curious, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. He does it again, watching your expression with a playful glow. You laugh and throw him a questioning look.

“What was that?” You laugh and he grins.

“I booped your nose.” He says all innocent and cute. 

“Booped?” You laugh again. 

“Yeah!” He smiles and touches your nose again, gently squashing it up to your face. “I just love booping noses.” He says and you shake your head, laughing. even more.

“You’re weird.” You say. You brush your fingertips over his chin, his pale skin feels smooth and warm under your touch.

“You don’t like it?” He asks, taking your statement the wrong way. “I was just trying to cheer you up.” Shame flashes in his eyes and you lift your hand higher and caress his blushing cheek. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

“No, it was cute.” You chuckle. “I like it when you do that.” 

His blue eyes look down at you and his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. A shy hand creeps up to your face again and he boops your nose, sending you into a soft fit of chuckles. His lips spread across his face and he confidently does it again. 

With your hand still resting on his cheek, your reach your fingers across and press his nose too, letting out a sweet ‘boop’. Ron’s body shakes underneath you as he laughs. 

“What are you two doing?” A familiar voice asks and you’re almost thrown off the sofa as Ron jumps at the sudden presence of his older brother Fred. 

“Weird coupley stuff by the looks of it.” George replies, standing by his twin’s side stuffing a mince pie in his mouth. 

Ron flushes red all over and stares at a spot on the sofa. “Go away.” He mumbles, eyebrows knit together in a frown. 

“Aw c’mon Ronny that’s not how you treat your lovely brothers. It’s Christmas time, a time for love and joy.” Fred teases, ruffling Ron’s ginger hair. Ron swots his brother’s hand away and frowns deeper. 

The twins disappear into the kitchen, laughing at their brothers embarrassment. You laugh too. Ron gets easily embarrassed and it’s hard not to enjoy it. You boop his nose again. You laugh at the frown remaining on his face, the redness slowly subsiding.  

[blinkybarnes]

11, 23, 22! with bucky barnes (preferably in that order but if not that’s okay) i’m in the mood for some bucky angst

prompt list

11: don’t make promises you can’t keep23: please let me help you22: you betrayed me…

warnings: guns, i think that’s it

word count: 2,377

a/n: this is set during civil war, hope you like it. also i have not proof read this so sorry for any mistakes :)

- - - -

Bucky Barnes was your friend. Your best friend. Someone you cared deeply for. Someone you would risk your own life for. But he was also a criminal.

You’ve known Bucky all your life. Brooklyn was your home, it’s where you met him, young and so full of life, dancing and charming his way through a party. That was before he left for war, before he was branded missing in action, before he was turned into something so evil, before he became a criminal.

70 years you were in that ice. 70 years of not knowing where Bucky was or what happened to him. You’re much like Steve. An old soul trapped in a young body.

He was The Winter Soldier and you were a devoted S.H.I.E.L.D agent. That day at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, when The Winter Soldier had destroyed nearly all of it’s existence, he recognised you. He said your name. For a brief moment you saw something flash in his eyes. He knew you. 

You were ordered to shut him down but you let him run. He was your friend, you couldn’t do that to your beloved Bucky. You never saw him again after that. 

Now he sits infront of you, locked up and looking conflicted. He’d gone back to his old ways, his Winter Soldier days, and blown up a building in Vienna. When he was spotted fleeing the scene, you were immediately order to capture him, and you did. You thought he had changed. He’d been off the grid for so long. But all that sits before you is a metal armed killer. Bucky’s gone.

Tony, a friend of yours which you have recently grown closer to more than Steve, eyes the long haired man before him. The Avengers are over, no more superheros to spontaneously save the day. You thought it was a good thing, they caused too much destruction. And locking The Winter Soldier up would reduce that. 

But he wasn’t The Winter Soldier anymore, he was Bucky Barnes and he recognised you. He kept his head low, avoiding everyone’s eyes. He was ashamed of himself, even though he wasn’t him who caused the explosion, he still felt ashamed. 

A S.H.I.E.L.D official announces The Winter Soldier to be taken somewhere secure and orders other officials to unhand-cuff Steve and his new friend Sam. They had also been captured by you, they weren’t helping themselves by helping The Winter Soldier and choosing to ignore that the Avengers are no longer allowed to dive into action when danger strikes. But they don’t hold much of a threat and Tony is sure he can convince the Captain to change his mind. 

Steve and Sam are lead away by heavily loaded agents. Steve throws a sorrowful look back at his childhood friend. All he wanted to do was help Bucky, but unlike you, he hasn’t realised Bucky’s gone. 

“Let’s go.” Tony’s voice appears at your side, his hand is resting on your shoulder and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes. He knows Bucky was your friend and how hard it was to go against him. 

You step forward to the glass container The Winter Soldier sits inside. He looks up and meets your eyes.

“I promise you’re safe now and we’re going to help fix you.” You say, looking deep into his stare, hoping that Bucky is still in there somewhere. He stares hard at you, studying your features with a clenched jaw. He doesn’t look like himself anymore. You turn away from him and walk back over to Tony.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, (y/n).” The deep voice of The Winter Soldier grumbles behind you. Or was it The Winter Soldier? He knows your name. 

You spin around, emotions running high. Maybe Bucky is really there, maybe he heard you. 

“You know my name?” You say. 

“Of course I do, we’ve known each other since before the war, haven’t we?” There’s a jokey tone to his voice but his face remains expressionless. You stand awestruck, lost for words. His glass container is wheeled away before you can say anything and Tony’s hand appears on your shoulder again. He’s still looking sympathetic, maybe even more than before, did he hear what Bucky just said?

You follow Tony down a series of corridors and into a glass walled boardroom. A large table sits in the middle, with Steve, Sam and Natasha gathered around it. Tony takes a seat and you do the same, though not before you catch a glimpse of the other room through the glass. Monitors on the walls show a live feed of Bucky locked up. 

Tony slides a piece of paper towards Steve. You know what it is, it’s The Accords, you signed it yourself not too long ago. Steve pushes it back, shaking his head. There’s no way he’s going to sign it, he lives for saving people, he wouldn’t be able to sit and watch danger go by, killing and harming innocent people. He was made to risk his life to save others. He needs to jump into actions when he needs to, not when someone tells him he can. 

Not wanting to listen to them argue, you leave the room and head straight for the monitors. Bucky is your main concern, he remembered you. The screen shows him looking defeated, his head hanging low and his wrists locked tightly to the chair he sits on. You did this. You hunted him down and locked him up. You. You who was supposed to be his friend. But you didn’t know he was still there, you thought The Winter Soldier had taken over his mind completely. 

“Which room is he in?” You ask the agent sitting before the screen. 

“In the basement.” He replies without looking at you, keeping his eyes on the screen. 

You’re out of there straight away, streaming down the corridors, all the way down to the basement. It’s grey and cold down here. The walls are thick and heavily locked. A secure place to keep a cold-blooded killer. 

After turning many corners and peering into open rooms, you reach him. The glass box is situated in the middle of the room and he doesn’t see you lingering in the doorway. There’s camera in all four corners of the room and you know the agent you spoke to earlier can see you. 

“Bucky.” You say softly. He head lifts up and you see how drained he looks. He’s tired of running, tired of trying to hide from everyone. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry.” You say as you move into the room. He stares at you with dark eyes. 

“This is all my fault, I’m so sorry, I was supposed to be your friend.” You stop right in front of the glass. 

“You let me go last time when you knew I’d done wrong, and now when I’m innocent you lock me up?” He looks angry, hard features form over his face and his eyes bore into you.

“I know and I’m sorry.” A sob almost escapes you but you hold it back. “I thought I’d lost you, I thought Hydra had taken you again or maybe you were still The Winter Soldier.”

“I haven’t been like that in a while, I was doing good, keeping out of the way and keeping to myself.” He talks with venom in his mouth, it’s such a contrast to how he spoke to you earlier when he said your name. 

“I’m sorry.” You say again, dropping your head. There must be something you can do to make it up to him, or maybe even earn a little forgiveness. 

You snap your head up to him. “I’ll help you get out of here.” You say in low, rushed voice. He stares at you through the glass barrier, seemingly considering your offer.

“No.” He says plainly after a short pause of silence. “It will only make things worse. Maybe I should be kept locked up forever, it will be better for everyone that way.”

“What! No.” You exclaim, throwing nervous glances over your shoulder. “I can help you.”

Bucky turns his head away from you. “Just go.” 

“Please let me help you.” You beg in a whisper, leaning close to glass, your hot breathing fogging it up.

“You betrayed me!” He growls, snapping his head back round to glare at you. You step back, eyes wide and heart pumping fast. You know he can’t hurt you inside while he’s locked up, but something about the way he looks at you sends fear running through your bones. 

“I know I did and I’m sorry. I believe you, you’re innocent, now let me help you.” You plea. You don’t want Bucky to spend the rest of his life locked up, he’s been through enough already. You glance up at one of the cameras, surely the agents watching is getting suspicious now. 

“I’m going back up to the monitoring room, when the shackles unlock and the doors open I want you to run. Don’t wait for me, I’ll find you somehow.” The words pouring from your mouth in a rush, you’re guessing you don’t have much time before people staring coming down to question where you’re here. 

You turn away from and calmly walk out of the room so as not to draw more attention to yourself. Bucky’s voice makes you pause at the entrance way.

“I’m not do it.” He says and you turn your head to look at him.

“I’ll hold off any agents, but it won’t be for long so be quick.” You say, choosing to ignore his disobedience. Ordering him what to do is better than pleading with him to run, that way he’ll feel more compelled to go. 

You dash off down the corridor and back up to the monitors by the boardroom. Tony, Steve, Nat and Sam are all gathered behind the agents monitoring the screens. 

“What were you doing down there?” Steve asks, his arms folded across his chest. You ignore him. 

“Forgive me for doing this, but it’s the right thing to do.” You say and you pull a gun out of the back of your jeans and point it at the agents head. Someone gasps and from the corner of your eye you see Natasha pull out a gun too.

“(y/n) what are you doing?” Steve asks anxiously, his arms unfolded now and his body on guard. 

You ignore him again and look directly at the agent. “Unlock the shackles and the doors.” You say. You would do it yourself but you don’t know how. 

“I can’t do that.” The male says, his voice shaking. 

“Put the gun down (y/n).” Tony says. He looks calm, like he’s got the situation under control. 

“Unlock them.” You say again, a little firmer this time. 

“Why are you doing this?” Steve asks. 

“He’s innocent.” You snap, glaring at Steve. He of all people should be on your side, Bucky’s his friend too and he believed he was innocent when you didn’t.

“Bucky didn’t cause the explosion and he’s not The Winter Soldier anymore.” You say and turn your attention back to the seated agent. “Now unlock the container and set him free.”

The agents fingers tremble over the controls. 

“Don’t do it.” Tony says to him. “He’s still a criminal.”

“I’m not afraid to shoot you if you don’t do it.” You snap, frustration and impatience flaring up inside of you. Regret is taking over you and you’re starting to fear that your plan isn’t going to work. 

“Please.” You beg. “He’s my friend and he’s innocent.”

The agents looks up at you with a slight turn of his head. Your near watery eyes catch his and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do. 

Then, all of a sudden, he presses something and you hear the sound of metal clinking and locks unlocking. On the screen you see the door of the container swing open. Bucky remains seated, staring at the open door and for a second you think he’s not going to run. But then he stands up and he’s gone in the blink of an eye. 

Tony rushes to shout orders through an intercom and Natasha disappears down the corridor, still holding her gun. 

“What have you done!” Tony hisses at you before following Natasha. 

Alarm bells and flashing lights ring through the building. People pour out of various rooms and levels of the building. S.H.I.E.L.D agents and government officials dodge there way through the crowds, heading for all exits in hope of catching Bucky. You follow, pushing your way down the stairs and racing across the marble floor to the exit, where a hot sun beats down on you and your feet slam against hard concrete. The crowds are bigger out here and if Bucky is among them, there’s no way he’d be spotted, he could easily slip away. 

You run out onto the street and whip your head up and down both ways. No sign of Bucky. He’s either long gone or still in the building. You hope it’s not the latter.

Panting, you look back at the building and the people emerging from it. They all look confused, throwing questions and assumptions at each other. Here and there agents with heavy weapons stand fixed to the spot, scanning the area. You look up at the building, the sun’s flare reflecting off the windows. Something at the top of the building catches your eyes. You shield your eyes with your hand as you look up at the roof of the building. A dark figure moves rapidly across the rooftop and from the silver shine attached to it, you know that it’s Bucky. You watch him disappear from sight, undetected by those after him. He’s got away, he’s free. 

You tell yourself you’ll go looking for him when all of this has calmed down. You don’t know if he’ll want you to look for him or not, he might still be angry at you, but knowing that you’ve set him free again gives you an odd satisfaction. He’s free to live his life, maybe not in peace, he’ll still be on the run, but at least he’s free. Free of false crimes and his old Hydra days.

[blinkybarnes]

could you do prompt 74: “there’s a baby?” with Peter Parker? love love love your writing!

prompt list

74: there’s a baby?

warnings: pregnancy, break-up, death, end of world kinda

word count: 1,144

a/n: I’m sorry this one took so long, I had trouble writing it and I still idk if I’m happy with it. Also Peter is a little older than 15/16 in this :)

- - - -

The second that weird contraption appeared in the sky sheknew she was going to be without Peter for a few days. It had become normalityfor Peter to be whisked away when the fate of humankind was in danger. She didn’tmind though, as long as he came back in one piece, and because there’s nostopping him anyway. If she had it her way, Peter would be safely locked awayevery time danger strikes.

She was expecting him to come, bringing loving goodbyes andpromises of return. She needed to speak to him anyway and found herself waitingfor him, despite not telling him that she wanted to talk.

A couple of hours ago she found out she’s pregnant. It tookher time to build up the courage to tell him and it seems that donutcontraption in the sky brought her her chance to tell him sooner than shethought.

But what she didn’t anticipate this time was how much dangerhe was in. He came to her the same day it appeared, pale faced and quiveringlip. She knew something was wrong straight away. The fear made him look like achild. He was no longer the invincible spider-man ready to leap into action, buta small frail looking boy with scared eyes and fumbling fingers.

She stared at him as he stood in her doorway. A cold nightbreeze slipped past her and into her home, she felt it brush her skin bringingout the goosebumps. “Peter what’s wrong?” She said in such a caring voice itbroke his heart to be here…to do this.

“I have to go.” He choked out in a whisper, trying to holdin the tears and suppress the lump in his throat.

“Go where?” She asked, but she had an idea of where. To savethe world again. Now wasn’t going to be the right time to tell him about the pregnancy. 

She watched Peter’s face screw up as tears spilled from hiseyes. He didn’t want to cry. Not in front of his love. Someone needed to bebrave and seeing as he’s the superhero, he knew it should be him.

She let go of the door she was holding open and stepped outto embrace him. He was broken and the feel of her arms around his shouldersbroke him just a little bit more. His hands lightly gripped her elbows and hepulled her away from him, his teary eyes stared into hers.

“We can’t be together anymore.” The words were like a stabto the heart. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“What…why?” She stepped back from him, eyebrows furrowed inconfusion. He couldn’t break up with her, not now, not before she’s told him about the baby!

His lip quivered again and his eyes darted away from her,staring at the brick wall by the door, trying to pull himself together. Hetook in a deep breath of the cold air. “We…we…just can’t” He said, still unableto look at her beautiful face.

She stepped forwards, her hands reached for him but he leanedaway. “But why?” She pleaded. “Peter, what’s going on?”

His fists balled up beside him, tensing tightly, turning hisknuckles white. Tears glossed her eyes, why was he doing this?

“It’s just better if we’re not together anymore.” He choked.His watery eyes stared hard at the concrete step. This was by far the worstthing he’s ever had to do.

“Peter I don’t understand, how will it be better? We’re fineas we are, aren’t we?” She stepped towards him, but again he stepped away, hisfeet forced to go down the concrete step.

“Peter talk to me!” She yelled, frustration and heart-break swirled around her body. It seemed to her he had no excuse, no real reason to break up with her. 

“Do you not love me anymore?” She asked, her voiced sounded surprised, almost as if she shocked herself by asking that question.

“What! No. Of course I love you, with all my heart.” Peter was quick to reassure her, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the growing crack in her heart.

“Why are you breaking up with me then?” She cried. 

“Because…” Peter started but the words wouldn’t come out. 

“Because what?” She shouted, knowing that the neighbours would hear. But she didn’t care, the love of her life was breaking her heart and she wanted to know why. 

“Because I might not make it back alive!” The words slipped past Peter’s lips in a quick yell. Silence washed over them like a giant wave. She stared at him with deep fear in her eyes. 

“What?” Is all she could muster. This was worse than she thought. 

“It’s big…whatever is coming for us is big…and…I don’t know if I’m going make it out alive.”

“Peter, you can’t…” She began but Peter cut her off.

“Nothing that you say can make me stay. I have to do this. It’s better if we’re not together anymore, because…” He looked away from her, the words stuck in his throat. “Because if I die…I want you to eventually move on, find someone new, don’t let me hold you back.”

“Peter please don’t do this.” She begged, tears streamed from her eyes. 

Peter stepped back once again. He wanted to get away before he could make things worse. He wanted to run for miles and not look back, because looking back and seeing her face would break him into a million pieces. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. He turned his whole body away from her and started to descend the few concrete steps. 

She would have done anything to make him stay, say anything.

“But what about the baby?” 

Those quick, yearning words stopped Peter in his tracks. He turned around, all kinds of emotions written on his face.

“What?” He gasped. Everything was muddled in his head, nothing made sense and he’d only just caught what she said. 

“The baby…” She said again and looked at him with eyes of hope. Maybe he would stay. 

“There’s a baby?” He moved back up the steps towards her with caution. “I don’t understand…are you saying you’re pregnant?” She nodded, a nervous lip trembled between her teeth.

Everything he’d said before, the breakup and risking his life for the world, vanished in a single second. She was carrying his baby and that’s all that mattered.

“I-I-I don’t know what to say.” He breathed. 

“Don’t say anything.” She said. “Just don’t go.” Her eyes pleaded with him, she couldn’t do this without him. 

He didn’t say anything, he just let his body go to her, his arms wrapping tightly around her. Floods of emotion poured out of her as he held her close to him. Who knew if everything was going to be alright, the world could end at any moment, but one thing she did know was that she had Peter.

[blinkybarnes]

who is your favourite harry potter character (one male and one female) ! i’m very curious :)

my favourite male character is and always will be Draco hehe, my favourite female is probably Hermione (although I do really like book Luna)!

[blinkybarnes]

Can you do prompt 17 with x men

prompt list

17: if you break my window I’ll kill you

warnings: none

word count: 2,097

a/n: I didn’t know if you wanted this with a specific character so I just include multiple :)

- - - -

The green lamp situated on your desk casts a yellow light over a small space of your bedroom. Your pencil scribbles away at the notebook before you, words flowing from your mind to the paper. 

Outside the wind whistles through the night. Orange street lights light up the residential area. There’s no one around. Most people are asleep. Few are up watching late night TV or like you, rushing to finish homework before tomorrows deadline. 

The nearly blunt pencil reaches the end of the page. You let it fall to the desk. You shake the writing ache away from your wrist and stretch back in your chair, arms towering over your head. Tiredness is starting to takes its toll on you but you need get this work finished, you’ve been ignoring it for too long and now it’s ended up being a last minute thing. 

Suddenly there’s a clutter at your window. You snap your head in it’s direction, sitting up straight and defences up. You watch the curtain draw window, waiting for something to happen again. Maybe it was just the wind blowing something over outside. The noise appears again and you move over to your window. Pulling the curtains open, you stare out into the night. It’s hard to see anything, the dark sky is speckled with stars and wispy clouds. The neighbouring houses stand silent in darkness. There seems to be nothing unusual around. Then a thin twig flies up towards you and you automatically step back thinking it’s going to hit you, even though the window is shut and the twig only clashes against the glass before falling to the ground again. 

Feeling irked, you glare down at the patch of grass below your window. And to no surprise you see five figures staring up at you. You should have known it was them. The window frame squeaks as you slide it open, the cold wind rushes in. 

“If you break my window I’ll kill you!” You yell in a whisper, not wanting to disturb anybody. “What do you want?”

“Come out with us!” A too excited male voice yells and you cringe, fearing that he’s going to wake someone. “We’re going for a ride!” 

“Shh!” You whisper harshly. “I can’t, I’ve got homework to finish.”

“Finish it in the morning!” A voice yells back. 

“Stop yelling! You’re going to wake someone.” You cast a look over the area looking for any sign of a light turning on or front doors opening to see what all the commotion is. 

“C’mon!” The first male voice calls.”You can finish it tomorrow.” 

“Peter, we need to be quiet.” You hear a familiar female voice say. It’s Jean.

“(y/n) come downstairs.” Jean says in quiet tone that’s loud enough for you to hear. 

You look around again, then look back at the scattered papers across your desk. That homework really does need finishing for tomorrow…but you have been working on it all night and you could do with a break. 

“Fine, I’ll be down in a minute.” You pull your head back inside and slide the window shut. You pick up the notebook covered in writing and skim your eyes over it. It is nearly finished, so going out and leaving it until tomorrow morning won’t hurt, right? You throw it back on the desk and grab the grey zip up jacket that’s hanging on the back of your door. 

The upstairs hallway is dark as you head for the stairs, every one must be asleep. The floor creaks under the weight of your shoes and you make it to the front door without making any excessive sound. 

Jean, Scott, Jubilee and Peter stand at your front door. Kurt stands awkwardly behind them, looking around like a guilty criminal of the night. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, locking the door behind you and following them to a parked car at the end of the path. You this car doesn’t belong to either of them and is probably stolen, so you don’t bother questioning it’s presence. 

“The beach maybe.” Jean says, opening the front passenger door. “Or maybe this abandoned arcade Peter knows about.” She gets into the car and you do the same, squashing into the back with Kurt and Jubilee. 

“Well which one are we going to?” Peter asks, bending down to poke his head through the rolled down window. “I’ll meet you guys there.”

“I say arcade.” You say and the others nod in agreement. 

“Arcade it is.” Peter cheers, snapping his goggles over his eyes. “Just follow me.” He’s gone before Scott can even start the engine.

“How are we suppose to follow him if we can’t keep up with him, idiot.” Scott mumbles, driving the car away from your house. 

The one window that is rolled down lets cold air blow through the car. It’s refreshing and wakes up. You smile to yourself, happy that you decided to come with your friends instead of being stuck in your bedroom doing homework all night. 

You love these four, well five including Peter. They’re just like you, different, though they go to a special school for it. You haven’t told anyone but these five about your powers. It’s still new to you and you’re scared of how people are going to react. 

The car speeds down the road, going past sleeping houses and woodland areas. Scott’s going faster than he should be, maybe it’s to try and keep up with Peter, or maybe it’s the thrill of being the only ones out while everyone else sleeps soundlessly.

The drive is long, though it doesn’t feel like it with the endless laughter and bellowing songs at the top of your lungs. You eventually pull up outside a small dingy building at the edge of a small town. It sits in darkness, a sign that probably once flashes with neon lights, hangs above the entrance. 

Peter sits on a low wall by the building, munching on something yellow. His headphones are in and he looks unbothered about the fact that he’s trespassing. The sound of the car doors shutting makes him look up and he smiles at the sight of you all walking towards him. He pulls his headphones off and jumps down from the wall.

“So how do we get in?” Scott asks Peter, noticing the thick chain and padlock wrapped around the handles of the entrance.

“Follow me.” Peter chirps and he leads you round to the back of the building, through long grass to a broken window. There are no shards of glass stick up out of the window frame, it looks as if this window has been used many times, probably by Peter.

“Do any of the games work?” You ask, climbing through the window. You land in what looks like an office, or a store room. Cardboard boxes clutter the room and a dusty wooden desk has been placed below the window. 

“Yeah, I fixed them a few months ago.” Peter says nonchalantly.

You all follow him out of the office and down a short corridor into a large open space filled with arcade games. There aren’t many machines but it’s enough to entertain the six of you for the night. 

“Wow!” Jubilee says.

“I know right.” Peter bounces on the balls of his feet, spinning round with his arms out wide as if he’s a ringmaster at a magnificent show. 

“I’m the reigning champion of all of these games.” He says.

“You’re probably the only champion of these games.” Scott mumbles, walking further into the room. 

“Was this place ever open?” Jeans asks, running her hand over a dusty machine, leaving a trail of finger marks.

“Yeah…a few years ago but because this town isn’t very popular it didn’t last very long.” Peter says. He opens a small greyish box on the wall and flicks a switch. A hum radiates through the room and machine screens start switching on. 

You walk over to one machine, it’s not as dusty as the others. The yellow circle of pac-man moves around the screen, it’s mouth opening and closing. 

“Don’t we need money to play these?” You ask.

“Nope.” Peter says, popping the p. “I made them work so that money isn’t needed, all you need to do is press start.”

You press start on the machine and control pac-man as he munches his way around the maze-like screen. Soon enough a little ghost gets you and it’s game over. A leader-board flashes on screen and you see Peter’s name listed several times, all with extremely high scores.

Other machines start to beep and buzz around you as the other press start on their games. Laughter, chatter and jeers of annoyance at losing fill the room. This is so much better than homework.

You press start on the game again, this time concentrating harder and determined to get a better score. The yellow circle races around the screen eating up the dots in it’s path. Your score builds up and you start to get excited, at this rate you’ll beat Peter’s high score. You jab the controls, eager to get away from the ghosts, but it gets you, taking away your last life. You throw your hands down to your side in a huff.

“You’ll never beat my score, this is my game!” Peter teases and you step aside from him to have a go. 

You head over to the machine Jean and Scott are crowding round. A monkey character smashes his way around the machine’s screen. Scott is cheering Jean on as she stares at the games intensely, her hand moving from control to control. 

“Hey guys” The sound of Kurt’s voice makes you turn around,but Jean doesn’t stir. “I think they have food here.”

“What? How? This place hasn’t been open for years.” Scott frowns and follows you as you join Kurt at kitchen counter. There’s an old till on the counter, behind it nacho machines, hot-dog machines and drink machines stand on another counter. Scott jumps over the first counter and makes his way along the row of beverage machines, pressing all the buttons. 

“They don’t work Kurt.” He says. 

“But what about this one? This…slushy…puppy?” Kurt points at a machine filled with red and blue liquid. It doesn’t look very appetising. The plastic container has something green growing up it’s walls.

“Kurt it’s mouldy.” You say, a disgusted look on your face. 

“Oh.” Kurt says, as if he didn’t know the green substance was not apart of the drink.

You go back over to the machines. Jean is still fixated in her game, her score has gotten considerably higher since you last looked. Behind her, Jubilee stacks blocks upon blocks on her screen.

What seem like hours pass by. Having played on almost every game in this arcade, you’re starting too feel the lack of sleep. Scott and Jean are slumped together in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall Jean rests her head on his shoulder. Everyone is feeling all gamed out. Kurt sits on the foot counter, blue tail swishing. 

“Who’s up for another round of Pac-Man?” Peter is the only one who’s not tired. No surprise there. He’s got endless amounts of energy and his beaming face looks like it’s only just getting started. 

“No Peter.” Jean whines, rolling her head across Scott’s shoulder. “We’re too tired, let’s go home now.”

“Yeah, I agree.” You say from where you’re leaning against a machine. 

“Aw c’mon guys, we’re having fun, let’s not let this night end.” Peter says, his excited tone trying to perk everyone up.

“Maybe another night Peter.” Scott pulls Jean to her feet and the two of them disappear in the direction of the broken window. 

“Sorry Pete.” You say. “Thanks for inviting me though, this was really fun.” You smile at him and he forces himself to return it, disappointment washing over him.

“Fine, but I’m staying here.” He says. 

You follow Kurt and Jubilee through the broken window and into the car. The air has gotten colder and your skin shudders as the temperature change. 

The car ride home is silent. Jean fell asleep almost as soon as her body hit the passenger seat. Your eyes struggle to stay open, your head dipping up and down every time sleep tries to pull you under. 

The car rolls to a silent stop outside your house and you dish out your goodbyes before trudging up the path to your front door. Sleep immediately takes over you once you hit your soft bed.

[blinkybarnes]

do you still write for harry potter?

yes :)

[blinkybarnes]

hi, i just asked if i could have 14 and 19 from your prompt list, but i forgot to mention that i would like it with bucky!!! thank youuu!!

prompt list

14: that sounds like a Taylor Swift lyric19: I still can’t believe you’re mine

warnings: thunderstorm

word count: 681

- - - -

Thick raindrops thunder down on the city. The streaming streets are deserted, not a soul in sight. The rain falls heavy against your window. Inside you lie curled up next to Bucky on your bed, watching raindrops streak down the window pane. There’s nothing beyond the rain, just darkness. It’s late and the rain isn’t letting you sleep. 

With his body curled around you, Bucky sleeps peacefully. His right arm is sprawled across your waist, it holds you close to him and keeps you from rolling backwards. It’s cosy curled up to his chest. 

The four walled room is masked in darkness, odd shapes and shadows, that you swear aren’t there in daylight, sit around the edges of the room. Your hands, squashed up against Bucky’s chest, rise and fall as he breathes deeply. Your breathing becomes simultaneous to his. Deep breathes in and out send you into a state of bliss. You bring your knees closer to your chest, curling your body up even more, and wrap your feet around each other. You let out a relaxed sigh. The rain doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. 

A crack of thunder jolts your whole body. Bucky stirs next to you. A flash of lighting lights up the room and you see his face contorting into a frown. He grumbles and twists his body backwards slightly, pulling away from you. His right arm lifts away from you and he rubs his sleepy eyes. The arm soon returns, wrapping itself around you even more than before. 

“(y/n).” He mumbles, eyes closed and head tucking down close to yours.

“Yes?” You whisper. 

“Why are you still awake?” He asks.

“I can’t sleep because of the rain.” You whisper through the dark.

You feel Bucky let out a long breathe and his lips press to the top of your head. Another loud thunder rolls over the city. It’s deafening and sounds close. 

“(y/n)?” Bucky grumbles once silence appears again.

“Yes?” You say. Lighting flashes again.

“Can I tell you something?” He speaks into your hair, his slow, hot breath heating the top of your head.

“Of course.” He doesn’t reply and you think that he’s gone back to sleep. Silence passes over you. His eyes are still shut and his breathing is relaxed, though it’s not in sync with yours anymore.

“I still can’t believe you’re mine.” He mumbles deeply. It’s almost inaudible but you catch his sleepy slur. You smile to yourself, a loving feeling arises in your chest. He must have been dreaming about you.

You’ve only been with him for a few months, your relationship is still fresh. The words take you by surprise. Neither of you have expressed any kind of deep feeling for each other yet. You both know it’s there but it’s never been said. The love you feel for him is unconditional, essentially you’re in what they call ‘the honeymoon phase’. Everything is perfect and you couldn’t be happier. The life you lived before you met Bucky seems like a lifetime away, it exists as blur and distant memory. 

At first, you never thought you’d be with Bucky. He was shy and distant, hard to talk to. But over time something blossomed between the two of you.

His sweet confession reminds you of a song which makes you think of him whenever you listen to it. It warms your heart to know that he feels the same way.

“That sounds like a Taylor Swift lyric.” You laugh softly, your shoulders shaking under his touch.

“Who’s Taylor Swift?” He mumbles and you just know he’s got a confused frown on his face. He’s still not up to date with the modern world. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You whisper, an amused smile spreading across your face. There’s no point explaining when he’s half asleep, plus he won’t remember in the morning anyway.

The rain is still coming down hard and you know there’s a slim chance of you getting any sleep, but you snuggle into Bucky’s chest and close your eyes, thinking things can’t get any better than this. 

[blinkybarnes]

is part 2 of loving eyes going to be out soon! i love the plot idea am it’s going to be such a good series !

I have a lot of prompt requests to get through first, but I’ll try and get it done soon :)

[blinkybarnes]

67, 52, 71, 72 with bucky barnes! btw your blue series is absolutely flawless !!!

prompt list

67: loving the dance moves52: are you even sorry?71: you lied72: this isn’t going to work

warnings: none i think, maybe playful teasing idk

word count: 1,094

a/n: to whoever requested this idk what you mean by blue series, maybe you have me mixed up with someone else, but thanks for requesting anyway :)also I haven’t really proofread this so sorry if there’s any mistakes.

- - - -

Being home alone means you can play your music as loud as you want and not have to worry about someone yelling at you to turn it down. As you work you way through your daily chores, your body bops to the beat of your favourite playlist. Hips shaking as you clean the dishes, toes tapping while you catch up on paperwork, shimmying down the hallway where you catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror and you have to admit that you’re quite good at dancing, well you did take dance classes once where you learnt to waltz, cha-cha and salsa. 

You move around the living room, carelessly moving to the beat of the music, not expecting your boyfriend, Bucky, to be home for atleast another hour. The music’s loud, loud enough to block out the rumble of the washing machine in the other room. You’re tidying up the bookcase, which has been left disorganised by Bucky who doesn’t put the books away correctly when he’s finished reading them. To be honest, he’s never completely read any of these books. He starts to read one but his mind gets distracted and he gives up, he can never past the first chapter. 

The front door clicks open but you don’t hear it. Bucky is greeted by blasting music as he steps into your shared home. He frowns and peers down the hallway, towards the kitchen, looking for any sigh of you but realises the music is coming from the other way. He moves towards the living room and stops in the doorway, his face lights up into an amused smile once he sees you dancing. You’ve got your back to him and have no idea he’s there.

“Loving the dance moves.” He shouts over the music. Taken by surprises, you quickly turn around and see Bucky standing by the doorway laughing. You rush over to the coffee table to your phone and you pause your music, throwing the house into sudden silence.

“I didn’t think you’d be back for ages.” You say, walking across the room towards him. He greets you with a bear hug, arms wrapped securely around your back. 

“I thought I’d come home early…and I’m glad I did.” Bucky chuckles. You swat his arm playfully as he lets go of you. “Sorry.” He says, his still amused smile is too contagious and you’re forced to smile too. He follows you to the sofa and sits down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Can you teach me to dance like that?” He says.

“Bucky, stop.” You whine, thinking that he’s still teasing.

“I’m being serious.” He says. “I haven’t danced in a long time, I’m not even sure I can remember how to.” 

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him but nonetheless stand up, agreeing to teach him. You hold your hands out to him and he takes as he rises from the cushioned sofa. You pick up your phone from the coffee table by your legs and decide to play a less upbeat song, something slow and romantic.

“Let’s do something slow and easy.” You say, taking Bucky’s arms and placing one on your waist and the other in your hand. 

“I’ll take the lead seeing as I’m teaching you.” You say and your left foot steps forward, forcing Bucky’s to stumble backwards. You move your feet again, this time telling him where to put his. The two of you manage to create a square movement with your steps, though within the small space between the coffee table and sofa, and it’s off beat. 

“Why are we moving so slow?” Bucky says. You stop moving and look at him.

“I thought you were going to teach me those dance moves you were doing earlier.” He says and lets go of you. “You know, the ones where you were like this.” He stretches his hands above his head and violently shakes his hips, nodding his head in a nonrhythmic movement. It’s not even close to how you were dancing earlier but it makes you laugh.

“Stop.” You laugh as he sticks his tongue out and lets out gargling noise. He drops his arms, stopping all movement. “That’s how you were dancing.” He says, as if it’s obvious. 

“No I wasn’t.” You whine, still laughing though. “I’m not going to teach you if you don’t stop teasing me.” You mockingly cross your arms and stick out your bottom lip, the way a stubborn child would do when they’re not getting their own way. 

“I’m sorry.” He laughs, wrapping his strong arms around you. Your sealed smile contains your laughter that you so badly want to let out, but the playfulness of the moment makes you remain in your ‘serious teacher’ character. 

You resume the position you were in, Bucky’s hand on your waist and your hand on his shoulder, and start to practise the steps again, moving a bit quicker this time. It doesn’t last long though.   

“Just because I’m old doesn’t mean that we have to move so slow.” Bucky says with a smirk.

You drop his arms and glare at him with daring eyes. “This isn’t going to work.” 

He laughs at your seriousness and nods his head. He’s in a much too playful mood to take anything serious right now. 

“Are you even sorry?” You are staring to feel a little annoyed now by his teasing and Bucky can sense it.

“Yes of course.” He smiles. With his laughter dying down, he takes your hands again and this time takes the lead. The two of you waltz swiftly around the living room. The music is light and slow, every step is to the beat. Bucky clearly hasn’t forgotten how to dance. Or how to annoy you. 

The song fades out and Bucky twirls you around one last time before catching you in his arms and pulling you down onto the sofa. 

“You lied.” You say, twisting your body so you can face him but still remain on his lap. “You do know how to dance.”

He mischievously chuckles and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I know, but I have to admit your dance moves earlier were awful.”

“Hey! I have having fun, it doesn’t matter if they’re good or not.” You say, defending yourself. Bucky laughs and pulls you closer to him. You rest your head on his chest as his hand strokes your bare arm. “I know and I love you, no matter how bad you dance.” He murmurs into your hair. 

[blinkybarnes]

me after infinity war

[blinkybarnes]

heyyyy everyone, I’m sorry I’ve been away for a few days, I wanted to stay off social media bc of iw spoilers but I saw iw yesterday (still recovering) and I’m gonna try and post today! (sorry to everyone who has requested, I know it’s been awhile, I’m trying to get through them as soon as possible) !!!

[blinkybarnes]

Hey! i loveeee your prompt list! could i request 8 & 48 with bucky barnes ?!

prompt list

8: can we fuck now?48: kiss me like you mean it

warnings: smut kinda idk

word count: 1,267

a/n: thank yoooou for requesting!

- - - -

Waiting for Bucky to come home is always a drag. Hours, sometimes even days, of not hearing from him while he’s on a mission would go by, contact between loved ones isn’t allowed while he’s away. You try to make yourself busy, so as not to dwell on it too much and not get swallowed by hole of stress and fear. On days when you know he’s going to be back you cook him dinner, usually his favourite, something to cheer him up after putting his life on the line. But you’ve finished your daily tasks and now stand watching the clock tick by while dinner keeps warm in the oven. He told you he’d be back around midnight. It’s 12:15 am. The hum of the oven and the nervous tick of the clock fill the kitchen, their sounds getting louder by the second. He’s fine, he’ll be here soon, you tell yourself, though you can feel the worry creeping up your spine. You can’t keep still. You whole body feels restless. Fingers drum on the kitchen worktop, a nervous leg bounces rapidly up and down, and you can’t stop looking at that stupid clock. You pace the small space of the kitchen but the back and forth motion soon makes you dizzy. 

You look at the table. It was set hours ago, when you had nothing else to do. You sit down at one of the places and readjust the place mat. Red flowers decorate the centre of the table. 

The click of the front door unlocking brings you to your feet. You rush into the hallway to see a dishevelled Bucky walking through the door. His long hair is tucked behind his ears, revealing the dark stubble masking the lower half of his face. Though he has no bruises, expect for a cut lip, he looks exhausted. His eyes are heavy and he walks towards you as though it’s taking all his strength to move. He falls straight into your hug, letting himself relax as you wrap your arms around his body, holding him tight. His arms hang limp inbetween your bodies. 

“I’ve missed you.” He sighs. His eyes are closed, a peaceful smile upon his face and his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“I’ve missed you too.” You say. “I’ve made dinner.” 

Bucky nuzzles his head against the side of yours, burying his face in your hair. He’s missed this smell. The smell of you. “I’m not hungry.” He mumbles.

You release Bucky from your grip and your hands travel to his face. You smile at him softly. He looks so tired. You can’t get mad at him for not being hungry when he looks like this. He stares at you with cute droopy eyes and pouted smile. 

“Go get some rest.” You say, stroking his cheek. His stubble prickles your hand. 

“I’m not tired though.” He says and brings his hands to you waist, pulling your bodies close together again. 

“Bucky you look exhausted.” You laugh.

“Yeah but there’s more important things I want to do.” He dips his head down and kisses you before you can say anything else. His lips are pressing against yours so hard that he has to wrap his hands around your back so you don’t fall over. You rest your arms on his shoulders as your hands travel to the back of his head where your fingers tangle in his dark hair. He tastes like coffee. He’s probably been drinking endless cup to fight sleep and to stop himself falling asleep as soon as he walked through the door. 

A hand slides down your back and rests on the curve of your body. It sends tingles down your spine. You’re giving into him too much, your back is arching and your feet stumble backwards. Bucky stumbles with you, pushing you against a wall. He plants a hand on the wall by your head to steady himself. You pull your lips away from him, hot breaths mixing.

“You really need to sleep.” You say, your lips still close to his. He kisses you again, then dips his head into the crook of your neck. “We can do this tomorrow.”

“I missed you too much to wait until tomorrow.” He says through the kisses showering your skin. You tilt you head back, leaning it against the wall and take in the pleasure of his touch. Wow you’ve missed this! Bucky’s hands dance all over your body, feeling every inch. They slide under your shirt, coming into contact with your skin you gasp. You weren’t expecting cold hands. Bucky mumbles a sorry and kisses your jawline. 

You’re having way too much fun to care about getting Bucky to sleep. You wrap a leg around his, your fingers delving deeper into his hair. He’s nipping at your neck now and you’re sure it’s going to leave a mark. 

He pauses, moving to look at you. “I love you.” He says. Every time you hear those words your heart flutters. You can tell from the way he looks deep into your eyes that he means it. 

“I love you too.” You can’t say it without smiling. You press your forehead against his. You brush your fingertips over his cut lip, tracing the edges. They’re smooth and swollen. His lips is one of your favourite things about him. So perfect and so kissable. 

“Kiss me like you mean it.” He whispers, warm breath brushes against your face. The way he talks makes goosebumps appear all over your body, his voice is so deep and lustful.

You stare at his lips, fingers still lightly dancing over them. He’s so beautiful it’s mouthwatering. Who knew someone could get you so dumbfounded by their beauty? The fact that he’s yours makes you wonder sometimes. He’s good to you, sometimes too good. It makes your heart swell at how much love he gives you.

He lets out a soft grunt, he’s getting impatient. Your lips touch his, only lightly though, you’re hesitating to tease him. Finally you kiss him. Passionately and as he asked, like you mean it. Your lips moving against his tell him how much you love him and how much you’ve missed him. A feeling of never wanting to let go lingers between the two of you. You’ve never loved anyone the way you love him and you want it to stay that way forever.

You let go slowly, letting your lips hesitate as they pull away. “If we’re going to do this…I’m going to have to turn the oven off first.” You make your voice sound as purposefully lustful as possible, adding humour to the situation. 

Bucky breathes out a laugh and lets you go. He watches you disappear into the kitchen, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip. “Don’t be long!” He calls. 

Socks slipping on the tiled kitchen floor, you skid to a halt in front of the oven. It’s on a low temperature and the food inside looks tempting. But you quickly turn it off and rush back to Bucky. He’s leaning against the banister of the stairs, eyes closed and arms folded across his chest. You shake your head to yourself, you knew he was tired.

Your soft fingertips brushing the skin of his arms opens his eyes. A slow, tired smile stretches across his face. 

“Can we fuck now?” He raises a questioning eyebrow and you laugh, throwing your arms around his neck. His large hands rest on both sides of your ribs.

“Yes.” You say and you kiss him hard, falling back into another rhythm of pleasure.

[blinkybarnes]

prompt 87 Michael gray ❤️❤️ something kinda sad

prompt list

87: you’re stressing me out!

warnings: death, being shot, being traumatised 

word count: 997

- - - -

Hospitals are never a nice place to be. They can stream in all the light they want, decorate the walls with endless flowers and the place will still be filled with dread and death. The walls are bleak and the floor is overly polish, making your footsteps squeak as you walk down the corridor. You remember just a few days ago you ran down these halls in fear. It was dark then and equally as discomforting as it is now. Michael was in a bad way. Shot and hanging on by a thread. You dropped everything and rushed to the hospital. 

You reach the end of the corridor and stop outside a set of double doors with glass windows. The room beyond them is large and full of light. Michael sits awkwardly in a bed situated in the middle of the room. His eyes are closed and he looks uncomfortable.

The doors don’t make a sound as you push them open and walk in. But somehow Michael senses your arrival and his eyes blink open. He doesn’t smile or utter a word as you sit down by his side. You don’t blame him though, he almost died. 

“Morning.” You whisper. It always feels out of place to speak louder than a whisper in a hospital. “I brought you today’s newspaper.” You pull the folded paper out of your bag and place it on Michael’s lap. He looks down at it with a disgusted flare, then picks it up and replaces it on the table next to him. 

“Michael-” You begin to tell him that he should consider himself lucky he’s alive when he cuts you off.

“Where’s Tommy?” His voice is deep and raspy, like when you’ve just woken up from a long sleep.

“I don’t know.” You say, avoiding his eyes. You know exactly where Tommy is. Holding a family meeting without him.

“I need to see him.” Michael says. He’s demanding and his eyes are like ice. 

“You need to rest.” Your voice is such a contrast to his, softer and kinder, whereas his bites off the head of anyone who dares to argue against him. It reminds you of his mother. 

“No!” He snaps. “I need to see Tommy, there isn’t time for rest! Luca Changretta isn’t going to stop at just me and John, I need to speak to Tommy.” His rudeness stings a little but you brush it off. Of course he’s going to be agitated, you are too, a whole gang are after anyone and everyone who knows Tommy Shelby and being alive means you’re still on the hit list. 

“Michael, Tommy has it under control, you don’t need to worry.” You try to reassure him but his face turns meaner than ever. 

“Do you want more people to be killed (y/n)? Tommy doesn’t know what Luca is capable of, or what his men look like…I do and I need to see him before it’s too late.”

“I’m sure Tommy knows all of this. After all, it is him who-”

“I watched John died!” Michael screams, his body tensing and jolting forward a little. You jump at his sudden outburst. Your eyes are wide and you lean away from him. 

“Tommy wasn’t there, he didn’t see what happened. I have to see him.” Michael’s words turn into sobs, real forceful sobs that shake his body. He lowers his head and covers his eyes with his right hand, catching the stream of tears flowing from his eyes. You tentatively place a hand on his bare shoulder. His skin is so soft and warm, something you’ve missed over the past few days. He pushes your hand away and wipes his face. 

“Don’t touch me.” He mumbles.

You sigh. You’re trying extremely hard to be comforting and trying not to let his attitude get to you, but he’s not making it easy. The Michael you know and fell in love with seems to have gone, killed when he was shot. You keep telling yourself that he’ll be back to normal when he’s out of hospital, it’s this place that’s bringing him down. But maybe he’ll never get back to his usual self. Maybe he’s a changed man. Vengeful and full of hatred. What he went through was traumatising, you can’t ever take that back. 

Silence passes over the room. You can hear the faint squeak of a trolley wheel turning somewhere down the hall, footsteps follow behind it. There’s a strong floral odour floating around the room. Too many flowers are in here. It’s suffocating. You stand up, some of the flowers are already dying and drooping. You fish them out of their vase, water dripping onto the floor from their stems.

“Leave them.” Michael says. 

“They’re dead though, they need throwing away.” You hear a long aggravated breath escape Michael. He’s closed his eyes again. 

“I said leave them.” He hisses through a clenched jaw. You put the flowers back, feeling helpless. 

“Why don’t you just go.” Michael says. It’s not a question, it’s an order. 

“Michael-”

“Just go!” He shouts and his eyes snap open. “You’re stressing me out!”

Stressing him out any further isn’t going to help with his recovery so you decide it is best to leave. You pull your thick, winter coat over your shoulders and check your handbag is closed properly. You lay one last touch on Michael’s leg and look at him as if to say ‘things will get better.’ Neither of you say anything as you leave, not even a simple goodbye. It hurts that he doesn’t acknowledge your care. Some thing pulls at your heart strings as you walk down the corridor towards the exit. Why does he have to make things so difficult? You’re only trying to help, doing what any other girlfriend would do. You hope to god that this won’t ruin your relationship. You love him with all your heart. But now it’s starting to feel like he doesn’t feel the same. 

[blinkybarnes]

54, 51, and 41 with pre war bucky? (in that order please!!) love your writing btw

prompt list

54: leave me alone51: our first child will be named after me41: what did I ever do to deserve you?

warnings: being sick/ throwing up

word count: 1,118

- - - -

Severe sickness had taken over you, residing you to your bed for the past few days. The mere thought of getting out of bed sent your stomach in a whirl. Bucky put it down to food poisoning as a few weeks ago the two of you ate at a restaurant Bucky thought looked dodgy. However, you had different suspicions. You were late.

The covers of your double bed aren’t enough to kill your cold shivers. You curl up tight, knees tucked close to your chest, trying to warm your body. Another wave of nausea washes over you and this time it’s not staying down. You spring from your bed and dash into the bathroom just in time to land the contents of your stomach in the toilet. You sit back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The stench burns your nose and makes you heave again. You quickly flush the toilet to get rid of the vile sight. Your throat is burning and a your stomach still gurgles. 

Suddenly you hear the front door open. Bucky is home. You reach up from your knees and push the bathroom door shut. You don’t want him to see you like this, he’s been fussing over you too much lately. You hear his footstep get heavier as he moves around the house. A light tap the wooden door tells you he’s on the other side.

“(y/n)?” He says, his voice sounding close to the door. 

“Just a second.” You say, trying to sound as normal as possible, despite the dizziness. You grab the edge of the sink and pull yourself up. The mirror reflects an image of yourself you don’t want Bucky to see. 

“Are you okay?” He calls through the door. You fear he’s going to come in as the bathroom door doesn’t have a lock, and quickly push your hand against the door, pushing all your weight on to it. 

“I’m fine.” You lie. A second wave of sickness appears and you lurch for the toilet again. The sound of you throwing up is loud and you know Bucky can hear you. 

“(y/n) I can hear you being sick, I’m coming in.” He says firmly. 

“No don’t!” You yell through the coughing. “Leave me alone!”

Bucky doesn’t listen. He comes straight into the bathroom and drops to his knees at your side, his hand instantly smoothing your back. He brushes the hair out of your face with his other hand and ushers reassuring words into your ear. Sweat and tears are dripping down your face, covering you in a mask of mess. 

“I’m taking you to the doctors.” Bucky says with a ‘no arguments’ look in his eye. 

“No.” You plea and Bucky frowns. 

“(y/n) food poisoning shouldn’t last this long, something is seriously wrong with you.” He speaks to you with disbelief, he can’t understand why you’re not getting better, or why you’re refusing help. 

Feeling slightly better, the nausea calming down, you lean back against the wall and stare at Bucky. He looks so worried. Your loving husband, so sweet and caring. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. 

“(y/n), please.” He begs. Something deep inside him tells him that this is something worse than food poisoning. You’re constantly weak and randomly throwing up. Yesterday you hardly ate anything, the sight of food sending you flying into the bathroom. 

“Bucky.” You say, reaching for his face with a clammy hand. His eyes are wide, dark bags hanging underneath them from nights spent caring for you.

“I’ll go to the doctors, but I already know it’s not food poisoning.”

Panic appears on Bucky’s face. “What do you mean?” 

He’s completely clueless which makes him even more adorable than he already is. His brings his hand to rest on top of yours caressing his face. 

“I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper, an innocent smile creeping across your face. There’s apprehension in your eyes as you watch him, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t say anything. His jaw hangs low, his mouth open slightly, and he stares at the floor joyful eyes.

You laugh and reach over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your chin on the top of his head. Bucky’s hands stroke the bare skin of your arms and you feel his head move underneath you. 

“We have to book an appointment right away.” He quickly says. He reminds you of an excited puppy. You laugh and bring your hands to his face. 

“Don’t get your hopes up though Buck, I could be wrong.” He smiles and his hands touch your waist.

“I know.” He says, looking deep into your eyes. Silence creeps around you as the two of you savour the moment. 

“I’d kiss you right now but seeing as you’ve just thrown up I think it’s best I don’t” He says, pulling a disgusted face which makes you laugh. You stand up, Bucky quickly standing up before you to help you, and make your way out of the bathroom. All you want to do now is lie down and cuddle up with Bucky. You’ve missed him today while he was away at work. When you’re feeling ill, sometimes a cuddle from your human teddy bear is all you need. 

Bucky follows you into the bedroom. “Our first child will be named after me.” He blurts out and you stop in your tracks to turn around and look at him. A burst of laughter escapes you. He looks quite pleased with himself, a charming smile plastered over his face. 

“How do you know it’s going to be a boy?” You say.

“I just know.” He says it very matter-of-factly. He helps you into bed, pulling the covers all the way over you and up to your chin. 

“Do you need anything? Water? Food?” He asks. Concern is still consuming him even though he knows this sickness isn’t as bad as he thought it was. 

You shake your head. 

“Are you sure? Are you warm enough, do you need an extra blanket?” He says. You rolls your eyes and reach out for him, your hand making grabbing motions.

“Just come lie with me.” You say and he obeys, walking round the bed, slipping off his shoes and sliding under the covers next to you. He wraps his arms around you and cuddles you close to his chest. His chin rests on the top of your head and you nuzzle your face into material covering his chest. He’s warm and it feels so cozy wrapped up in his arms. If this was the cure for morning sickness you’d take it any day. 

You sigh. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

[blinkybarnes]

hey!i love your blog so much all of your writings are amazing!! i was wondering if i could request an imagine where the reader, bucky, and steve were all friends before the war and the reader and bucky were a thing. then bucky and steve went to war and left the reader alone, so she tried to sign up for the war even though girls aren’t allowed, hydra pretended to accept her into the war and made her a winter soldier, but the avengers haven’t gotten her back yet. let me know if you understand this

thank you for requesting, I think I understand this :)

here’s part 1

[blinkybarnes]

Loving Eyes (bucky x reader) Pt.1

gif not mine

requested: hey!i love your blog so much all of your writings are amazing!! i was wondering if i could request an imagine where the reader, bucky, and steve were all friends before the war and the reader and bucky were a thing. then bucky and steve went to war and left the reader alone, so she tried to sign up for the war even though girls aren’t allowed, hydra pretended to accept her into the war and made her a winter soldier, but the avengers haven’t gotten her back yet. let me know if you understand this

warnings: loneliness, war, death

word count: 1,269

a/n: doing this in 2 or 3 parts otherwise just 1 part would be too long :)

- - - -

Stars shine so bright above you, hope glimmering between them. Hope that one day he’ll return safe and sound. Hope that he too stares up at the sky every night wishing to see your face again. Without him the days are lonely and the nights are cold. Your love, your best friend, your sweet Bucky. Just a few months ago nights like these were spent dancing with Bucky and getting up to no good. Steve was always there, trailing behind, acting as if he didn’t want to be there when in actual fact there was no one else he’d rather spend his night with. The three musketeers is what you were. A troublesome trio. It was a rare thing for two to go out without the third, you’ve all been joined at the hip since you could walk. 

And now they’ve gone. Ripped away from your world leaving a gaping hole. It feels like they’ve died. Maybe they have and the letter of condolence is on it’s way to you now. What will you do when it arrives? Will you be able to open it? Probably not. Grief is already starting to take over at the thought of it. 

It’s getting late. The streets below your window are empty, the occasional drunk saunters into the shadows. The silence is suffocating. High pitched ringing confuses your brain, are you going mad? You step back from the open window, trying to create some sort of noise before your ears explode. It’s no better though. The dingy walls of your small apartment linger in more silence. Darkness is consuming you. The electricity went off a couple of hours ago, you haven’t had the money to pay the bill, not without Bucky here.

You trudge your way into your bedroom where you throw yourself straight into bed. You don’t bother undressing. It’s too cold and you haven’t got the energy. The mattress is uncomfortable, it feels like your lying on a cold, hard rock. Had it always felt like this? With Bucky lying next to you this bed had once felt like a thousand feathers. With his strong arms wrapped around you, flesh to flesh, he was your personal heater. You turn onto your side and stare at the empty space before you. The sheets are tucked tightly under the mattress, covering the dent of his body. You slide your hand across the bed. It travels over the lumps and bumps and sinks into the area where Bucky used to lie. If you think really hard, you can still feel the warmth from his body, as if he’s still here and gotten up to go to the bathroom. You keep that thought in your mind as you close your eyes. Sleep soon takes over and pulls you into a dream you’ve seen before. 

It’s summer time and your lying on a red checker blanket. Grass tickles your bare toes and faint yells of joy surround you. This isn’t a dream. It’s a memory. The rays of the sun are blinding, you’re eyes are closed, taking in the heat. A familiar laugh makes you open your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows. Meters in front a river of clear water glistens under the sun. A smiling brunette is bobbing up and down in the water. Bucky. His chest is bare and he’s cheering for his friend to jump in. Steve, skinny and pale, stands almost naked on the river side. You laugh at the state of him. His legs are shaking as he edges closer to the water. Then with one last look around he takes the plunge and immerses himself in the water. You watch as his blonde head reappears to the surface for air. He gasps sharply and Bucky laughs. The water must be cold. Chattering teeth, Steve pulls himself, with great effort, out of the water. Bucky sends a splash of water his way as Steve races towards you. You flinch at his wet body, cold drops spraying you, and throw him a towel. You laugh and tell him how pathetic he is. 

“I’d like to see you try, that water’s freezing.” Steve says, sitting down on the grass, the towel wrapped around his small shoulders.

“Okay.” You say confidently. Never being one to back down from a challenge, you stand up and undress. Bucky cheers when he sees you running down the grass. You land in the water a great speed, splashing water everywhere. Steve was right, the water is freezing! It nips at your skin and tenses your muscles. You had thought the hot sun would have warmed the water up. You wrap your arms around yourself and float over to Bucky. He catches you and hugs your body to his. 

“Swim around, it will warm you up.” He says. His legs are moving underneath him and, though you haven’t noticed, you’re both moving in a circle. Everything feels good in his arms. Like there’s not single thing to worry about in the world. Bucky brings his lips to the top of forehead. Your skin is turning cold underneath his wet, chilled touch. You snake your arms up his chest and round his neck. Your head moves back, pulling away from his lips, so that you can look at him. Loving eyes stare right into yours. Loving eyes that seem so far away. He’s slipping away from you, the water dragging him out of your arms. 

You snap your eyes open before the dream can turn into a nightmare. Morning light shines through the bedroom window, lighting up the whole room. You hadn’t shut the curtains last night. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling defeated and wishing you could see those loving eyes again. Not wanting to dwell on the thought any longer, you swing your legs out of bed and start getting ready for the day ahead of you.

Before you know it you’re out of the door and nearing the small shop on the corner of your street. Like everyday, you purchase a newspaper from the shop and lean against the wall by the shop entrance to look for any war updates. Any sign that Steve and Bucky will be coming home soon. 

Disappointment washes over you. It’s the same as usual. The war isn’t ending any time soon. You fold the newspaper shut and fold it once more when you notice something. On the back, printed in the corner of the newspaper is a small notice. Women Wanted for War! The writing is small but the thick black border around it is what caught your eye. You skim the details, ripping off the corner of the newspaper and throwing the rest of the newspaper in a nearby bin. 

You walk as you read the tiny piece of paper, others on the street having to dodge you. The notice says that they’re looking for women to work on the telephones, sending important messages from camp to camp using Morse code. Any women wanting to apply for the position should go to their local registering post 9am Monday.

You pocket the scrap of paper as you come up to your workplace. This could be your one chance to see Bucky and Steve again. Maybe not see them, but you’d be in a better position to contact them. Joy bubbles inside of you, all hope is not lost. Even though they won’t physically be with you, you won’t be alone if you do this job, because somewhere out there they’d be doing the same, helping their country, and somehow that makes you feel close to them.

[blinkybarnes]

100 prompts list

feel free to request with any character! and give me credit if you use this list :)

1.  “I can stand here all day!” 2.  “Your eyes are the colour of erm...er...mud?” 3.  “Where the fuck are we?” 4.  “I just love booping noses” 5.  “I promise I won’t do it again.” 6.  “I could say some cute shit like your eyes shine as bright as the stars, but             honestly I’m not that type of person.” 7.  “erm...I’m not sure.” 8.  “Can we fuck now?” 9.  A: “I was just sitting over there and I saw you-”      B: “and you wanted to tell me I’m beautiful?”      A: “...no, you have toilet paper hanging out of your trousers.” 10.  “I hate cats.” 11.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 12:  “I love him/her with all my heart but sometimes I want to gouge his/her eyes          out!” 13:  “wow...I don’t care.” 14:  “That sounds like a Taylor Swift lyric.” 15:  “I hate the sight of blood.” 16:  “Stop acting like my mother!” 17:  “If you break my window I’ll kill you.” 18:  “What would you do if I was kidnapped?” 19:  “I still can’t believe you’re mine.” 20:  “Obviously.” 21:  “What!...This is an abomination!” 22:  “You betrayed me...” 23:  “Please let me help you.” 24:  “Stay up and watch the sun rise with me.” 25:  “Look, it was cheap...that’s all you need to know.” 26:  “Yes..wait no...actually...yes.” 27:  “Please don’t leave me.” 28:  “What do I tell the kids?” 29:  “There’s blood EVERYWHERE!” 30:  “I can’t cope without you.” 31:  “It was an accident.” 32:  “I have a confession to make...” 33:  “You’re unbelievable.” 34:  “What was that?” 35:  “I’d probably sacrifice you.” 36:  “You’re hands are always so smooth, I love it.” 37:  “I had a surprise for you but it kinda got ruined...” 38:  “I love you no matter what you do.” 39:  “This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey!” 40:  “Fuck...you look so good.” 41:  “What did I ever do to deserve you?” 42:  “Is this what they call love?” 43:  “Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes.” 44:  “I’m not really one for candle lit dinners.” 45:  “Is she/he better than me?” 46:  “ew...no.” 47:  “I was on TV once.” 48:  “Kiss me like you mean it.” 49:  “No need to be so bossy.” 50:  “Cuddle with me while we plan our future.” 51:  “Our first child will be named after me.” 52:  “Are you even sorry?” 53:  “I brought pizza and blankets.” 54:  “Leave me alone.” 55:  “You sound so cute when you say that.” 56:  “Don’t do anything illegal.” 57:  “Lets go camping in the garden.” 58:  “You’re so warm.” 59:  “Be safe.” 60:  “This isn’t how I pictured it.” 61:  “Only if you do too” 62:  “Can we start again?” 63:  “Don’t give me that bullshit.” 64:  “Bubble bath?” 65:  “Run away with me.” 66:  “Stay with me.” 67:  “Loving the dance moves!” 68:  “I’ll do anything to keep you safe.” 69:  “You give me butterflies.” 70:  “I’m scared.” 71:  “You lied.” 72:  “This isn’t going to work.” 73:  “I’ll keep you safe.” 74:  “There’s a baby?” 75:  “Stop playing games with me.” 76:  “I’ve changed.” 77:  “What about us?” 78:  “I’ve missed your voice.” 79:  “You don’t need to suffer in silence.” 80:  “Is this a dream?” 81:  “You’re hurting me.” 82:  “Ever since I first laid my eyes on you I knew you were my true love.” 83:  “This is all your fault.” 84:  “Tell me the truth.” 85:  “Don’t touch me!” 86:  “Please don’t cry.” 87:  “You’re stressing me out!” 88:  “Can you keep a secret?” 89:  “I need your help.” 90:  “Fuck you.” 91:  “I’ll be back before you know it.” 92:  “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 93:  “Will you marry me?” 94:  “You’re a mess but I love you.” 95:  “You left me.” 96:  “Are you flirting with me?” 97:  “Why are you in my room?” 98:  “I thought you were dead.” 99:  “I love you but don’t tell anyone.” 100:  “I like it when you do that.”