#i love seeing the heat and bulls lose it brings me joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xtrashmammalstefx · 4 years

Text

Stubborn Asshole (A Zak Bagans x Reader SMUT)

WARNINGS: Smut, language, possession

Special Thanks: To @xcazzax for being an awsome reader and source of inspiration. I couldn’t do this without you girly. 🥰

I love Aaron like a brother, don’t get me wrong, but DAMN HIM FOR BRINGING SUCH AN ASSHOLE INTO MY LIFE!

Douchey McGee: Hey Aaron said to message u.

He said: Get the fuck up Y/N!

Me: Tell him I said thnx and

and 2 not have the douche do

his dirty work.

Douchey McGee: Well fuck u 2 Y/N.

I sighed and crawled out of my hotel bed. We’d flown in late the previous night and I was still exhausted. I showered and got dressed in my ripped black skinny jeans, my black GAC shirt, and combat boots. I grabbed my hoodie and purse on the way out. Downstairs in the attached restaurant the rest of the crew were gathered for breakfast and much needed coffee.

“Morning gorgeous,” Aaron greeted.

“Fuck off Goodwin, I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” I said taking my seat beside him. “And by the way since when is boss man your own personal secretary.”

“And here I thought you didn’t know me as anything but Douche McGee, douche, or my personal favorite: Stubborn asshole son of a bitch.” Zak chimed in.

“Good morning to you too Satan,” I rolled my eyes.

I swear ever since we met Zak has made it his life mission to push my buttons in any way he can. But unfortunately for this psychotic fuck, two can play that game.

“Huh that’s original,” Zak continued.

I rolled my eyes and ordered an omelet with coffee. “So you gonna tell me when you decided to make boss man your bitch?” I asked Aaron.

“Well I figured I’ve been the bitch long enough so…” Aaron said.

“Dude, since when have I ever treated you like a bitch?” Zak asked.

“Every time you forced him to stay in a fucked up room by himself during an investigation like a fucking sadist?” I pointed out.

“Oh...right…” Zak said looking like he felt a tinge of guilt.

“Does that mean I’m a bitch too since he’s been doing the same thing to me lately?” Billy chimed in.

“Unfortunately,” I said just as my breakfast arrived arrived. “Oh, thanks.” I said to the waitress.

“Only you can go from bitchy to bubbly in zero seconds flat,” Zak said.

“Fuck you too, Bagans,” I muttered taking a bite of my omelet.

“Not in this life babe,” Zak muttered taking a sip of his coffee.

It continued like that even in the car on the way to the days location: Bly Manor. According to our sources Bly Manor was built in the 1800’s by Charles Bly, an Irish immigrant who made a fortune selling liquor and tobacco. By the time of the Civil War he decided to try his hand at weapons manufacturing which earned him enough to break ground on his dream house. He lived in the manor with his family. His wife Athena, and his daughter Josephine.

It said that on a sunny afternoon while do work in the Manor’s yard a man by the name of Bishop Wiley showed up and shot him dead. Supposedly Wiley’s son Robert was a soldier in the war and was killed by the very guns Charles helped build.

Charles has since been purported sighted walking the manor grounds. His wife Athena has been seen playing the piano, and wandering the halls. As for Josephine well… she was the most famous spirit of all.

“Josephine has been seen on the balcony of the Red Room,” explained our tour guide as we interviewed her. “The story goes that Josephine had met and fallen in love with a man at a nearby farm. And just before they were due to be married he left to fight in the war. She promised to wait for him there until his return. Hopeful that they could still marry and have a family. Sadly the man lost his life in Gettysburg. Charles felt so horrible he felt the need to keep it from her. So she continued to wait. And continues to wait to this very day.”

My heart ached for Josephine. It’s a whole other level of hell to lose someone so dear… I damn near jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Zak asked.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I said before following the tour guide.

We eventually took a break for lunch and then got ready for the investigation. Unlike most of the crew I made it a habit of carrying a small black backpack. I was just stuffing a recorder, spirit box, and MEL Meter when someone pat my shoulder.

“Hey are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Zak asked again.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m good, um, why the niceties?”

“I may be an asshole sometimes but I do feel for people now and then,” he said.

“Even me?” I arched an eyebrow at him. Before he could answer Aaron barged in needing to grab a spare lens for the camera.

We continued prepping in silence and then slowly but eventually the sun went down and moon shined bright.

Aaron, Zak, and I went in together. We worked together as a group for a while before (in true Zak Bagans fashion) we split up.

“Y/N I want you to stay up here for a while and see if Josephine will communicate with you,” Zak said.

“Alright,” I said stepping out onto Josephine’s balcony. Zak and Aaron disappeared through the Red Room door and I took out my recorder. “Josephine, are you here?” I started. “If so do you think you could answer a few questions for me? I promise you I mean no harm. Just speak into this little device for me.”

I felt a chill in the air but continued. “Why are you still waiting for him?” I asked. “Don’t you think he’s waiting for you on the other side?”

I suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anxiety. I slid down to the ground and then... He promised me. I kept thinking for some odd reason. He promised...he promised we’d go...he promised on the stars...he promised we’d be together.

The thoughts kept coming, and I don’t know when it started but I only realized I was crying when I felt someone shake me violently. “Y/N TALK TO ME DAMMIT!!!”

Zak knelt in front of me looking freaked. “D-Don’t ever leave me,” I cried. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“Josephine leave her alone, please,” Zak asked. “I know what happened to you was cruel and unfair but that doesn’t mean she should suffer like this.” Call me crazy but Zak actually sounded kind of pissed. There was another chill and he knelt beside me again. “I’m here sweetheart…” He whispered brushing my cheek with his hand. “I’m here.”

I looked up at him and saw a face that was not his. His hair was chocolate brown and barely touched his shoulders, his eyes the same. My heart took off in joy and I threw my arms around him. He squeezed me before pulling back and taking my face in his hands. “Promise not to disappear on me again?” I asked.

“I promise,” he muttered before bringing his lips to mine. We kissed passionately as though it was a long time coming. After a while it felt like a weight lifted off me and my legs became limp. “WHOA!”

Zak caught me. It was for sure him this time. I was suddenly more aware of things...more awake. “Zak...what? What happened?”

“I dunno,” he said. “But I’m getting you the fuck out of here.”

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to the GAC van.

“You know you didn’t have to carry me right?”

“Says the girl who just nearly passed out on me,” Zak said setting me down in the back of the van.

“Um Zak did you want us to edit out the last bit of her footage or..?” Billy asked awkwardly.

“Edit it out? Why?” Zak asked. Blushing furiously Billy replayed the footage from the night vision cam we had facing the balcony. It showed me slowly crumbling and then…

“Oh sweet fucking Jesus,” I groaned as Zak and I started making out on screen.

“Uh...yeah I don’t think we need to uh-*cough*-show that,” Zak said turning back to me. “Are you, uh, gonna be okay?”

“Um...yeah I think so,” I said not entirely meeting his eye. “You-uh-you go ahead. I’m just gonna chill with Billy the rest of the night.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Now go before I drag you back in by your balls,” I threatened.

“Oh yeah you’re gonna be fine,” he said turning his back on me.

“You know you two are actually kinda hot together,” Billy said.

“What? Are you high? Zak and I can barely stand each other,” I said.

“Bull-fucking-shit Y/N,” Billy laughed. “We all can see there is insane tension going on between you. We just don’t get why you guys haven’t done anything about it.”

“What are we the hot gossip going around the office or something?”

“I mean, if this almost-porno is anything to go by...then yeah.”

“Billy I swear to God if I catching you jerking off to that—.”

“You’ll cut my nuts off I know,” he finished for me. “Besides I would never in hell jerk off to my best friend and his girl. It’s too weird.”

“I’m not his girl,” I snapped at him.

“Whatever you say Y/N,” Billy laughed. “Now did you wanna review this evidence with me or..?”

And so I did.

Once the investigation ended we packed up, caught a few minutes sleep then made our way back to Vegas.

Billy, Jay, and Aaron were dropped off first. Then it was just me and Zak.

Aaron: Try not to kill Zak please.

Me: No promises.

Zak then pulled up to my place.

“Are we never gonna talk about it?” I asked as he parked.

“What’s there to say?” he asked. “It-It was a freak incident. We-we weren’t ourselves.”

“True you were actually nice for once,” I said sarcastically.

Zak glared at me. “Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward,” I blurted out. “I mean...um...fuck!” I sighed and stepped out of the car. I had just unlocked my door when…

“Y/N!” I turned around and saw Zak running up to me.

“Wha―” I was cut off by Zak slamming his lips to mine.

He kissed me hard, as though he was relieving an ache deep within his heart. I kissed back and clumsily opened my door. Zak picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carried me to my bedroom. He placed me on the bed and I reached up to pull his shirt off. I tossed it aside and eventually more articles of clothing followed.

Zak laid me back on the bed and started pecking a trail of kisses all the way down to my heat. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed and sucked on me. “HO-HOLY SHIT!”

To say Zak knew what he was doing would be an understatement. He didn’t stop eating me until I was writhing beneath him. “Z-ZAK!” My back arched and my toes curled up in the most powerful orgasm of my life.

He crawled back up to me, smirking. “Not much of an asshole anymore, am I?”

“Oh shut up,” I brought my lips back to his as I ran my hand up and down his length which like the rest of him was thick and hard. I suddenly felt him move my hand before he reached down and placed himself at my entrance. He kissed me once more before pushing in. “FUCK! How the fuck have you been single this long?”

“Demons tends to be excellent cock blocks,” Zak said as he started to thrust. “Lucky for us, they tend to stay away from you.”

“R-Really?”

He grunted then nodded. Despite his big, tough, persona Zak was actually really sensual and passionate in bed. He kept his thrusts gentle (probably because he knew his above average size could inflict some damage if he wasn’t careful) until I urged him to go faster and harder. After a while he flipped us over so that I was on top. I rode him hard, and Zak, being a gentleman, helped me out by thrusting up into me as I did.

The tension began building up inside me. “Fuck...Zak I-I think I’m gonna…” It hit me like a wave. I tightened around him, arching my back, and damn near screaming his name.

Zak flipped us over again and continued thrusting until he grew sloppy. I suddenly felt him twitch inside me as he cursed and groaned. His body shuttered as he painted my womb with his seed. Finally he collapsed beside me, both of us breathless.

“Wow,” I said.

“I know,” Zak said.

Once my breathing was under control I turned to him. “So...what now?”

He looked over at me.

“I guess we just be together,” he said. “It’s kind of what you do when you’re insanely in love with someone.”

“You’re in love with me?” I asked.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” he smiled. “Ever since we met...I just didn’t want the spirits in my life to hurt you so I decided to keep you away.”

“What changed?”

“Besides that they for some reason stay away from you?” I nodded. “I was tired of letting them get in the way of what I want. I was tired of being away from you.” He draped his arm over my waist. “I love you.” He muttered.

“I love you too,” I said pecking him on his swollen lips.

We spent almost every day together after that. It’s been a year and we are still together. Life was the same for the most part. We still investigated places, while not in bed or spending time with each other. The guys were relieved to see us together (at last) until our PDA became a little too much for them to handle. Oh and there was one other difference as well…

“Y/N BAGANS COME GET YOUR MAN HE’S BEING FUCKING TERRIFYING AGAIN!” Aaron shouted at me through the walkie.

“What happened to having the preggo investigator hang back all night?” I asked rubbing my stomach. Zak made everyone swear not to let me into the buildings with malicious spirits and demons.

“Y/N please,” Aaron begged.

I sighed and looked down. “Aaron Nicholas Bagans for the love of god don’t be a stubborn asshole like your daddy.”

With that I exited the van and went to save the love of my life.

#zak bagans #zak bagans x reader #zak bagans imagine #Smut

380 notes · View notes

ppunkisnotdead · 4 years

Text

Lesson learned (Clyde Logan x Reader) - one shot

[[So I had a vision the other night while trying to fall asleep (surprise, I was thinking about him, shocking I know) and this is the result. I’ve had many ideas over the years to write stuff but never seemed to actually get to the point of finishing them even if I really liked my idea or the pairing so it’s still weird for me to be so productive about my writting. Another thing that makes me love Adam more (silly I know but that’s how I’m feeling all of this). So here’s that whole thing, hope you’ll enjoy it (and feedbacks are more than welcomed!) xxx ]]

--------- The evening was slow, almost agonisingly slow for your taste but you’ve waited patiently in your booth, eyeing Clyde from time to time as he tended to the clients as usual. He seemed a bit more relaxed tonight, almost cheerful which isn’t something you’re quite accostumed to yet since you two only started dating three months ago. You actually asked him out. After a couple of nights spent at the bar, chatting here and there with him, you said to yourself you should risk it and he said yes. Your first date was a bit awkward, he seemed to hesitate a lot on what to do and say but you found it cute. It meant he wanted things to go well with you, you guessed. You had to stood on your toes to kiss him goodnight at the end of your outing, but you sensed he didn’t mind your boldness as you could feel him smile against your lips. The more you spent time together, the more comfortable he got with you and you liked that. It gave you joy to see him get better around you and leaving his sadness aside when you’re spending the night with him like tonight. He told you about what happened to him, to his left arm and you felt sorry for him. Not because he was now disabled no, but because you could see he missed being in the Army. That was the main reason he looked so lost you gathered, like he somehow was out of place even if he was at home. So, you were relieved to see him evolve a little as days went by, glad to help him on this journey, one step at a time.

When the last couple of clients are finally out, you leave your seat and come closer to the counter, seating yourself on one of the stools, landing your chin on your joined hands as you watch him count the night’s take. He’s focused, you can see it as you scrutinize his face, which the more you look at, the more you find yourself loving all the little details about it. Like his lashes, longer than you’d expect for a guy but it doesn’t make him less masculine though. His nose. His beautiful large nose that you like kissing in the morning to wake him up or having between your legs. Those amber eyes you immerge yourself into sometimes, losing all sense of time and space then, because he’s all you want to see in that moment. And of course, his plump lips. Oh, how much you loved those. Especially pressed against your or on your skin. You must’ve been staring quite intensely because at some point, he stops what he’s doing to talk to you, making you snap back to reality. - “What?”, he quips your way, smiling faintly. - “Nothing”, you answer, straightening yourself on your seat. - “You were staring”, he remarks as he finishes to put back the money inside the till. - “I wasn’t aware it was something I’m not allowed to do”, you retort playfully, pretending to be hurt. - “You are… I just don’t see what there’s to look at”, he says shrugging his shoulders a little. Immediately you pull a face at him, hitting his right forearm with a slap, making him yank it out of your reach. - “Hey! What was that for?”, he asks, a bit of a grin on his face despite his reaction. - “You were talking bull again, you had it coming big boy. You know I hate it when you say things like that about yourself.” He doesn’t say anything back because he knows better, but he’s so used to depreciate himself by now that it’s almost second nature to him. - “Sorry ‘bout that”, he says sheepishly after a moment, fidgeting behind the counter, which makes you smile a little because seeing a big man like him acting like this is inheritely funny. - “I just hate it when you do that, you’re not worthless or anything Clyde. A lot of people have disabilities and still live their life to the fullest. You just have to see that and embrace it”. He starts to open his mouth to answer but you cut him off before he does. - “I know it’s easier said than done but trust me on this, ok?”, you say softly, reaching for his hand while smiling at him. He nods in agreement, mainly to please you, you reckon but it’s a start, nevertheless. Pushing him too hard too fast would only make it worse in the long run. - “Do you need a hand closing up the place?”, you ask without any overtone or second thoughts but as your eyes meet, you realize what you’ve just said from the look on his face and you both start laughing uncontrollably. It’s a good minute before both of you catch your breath again, tears coming down your cheeks from laughing too hard. But that was a good laugh, one that allowed the tension your conversation brought to go away and you to to share a moment. Something that will bring you closer as a couple and you like that. He’s opening up, slowly but you can see now he still got a lighter side somewhere and you fall in love with him deeper every time you see that wonderful smile of his. A smile that according to you, could light anything up since it’s so pure and genuine. He looks up at you and this time, it’s your turn to be stared at. Within seconds you feel your face getting hotter and that makes him grin, so you punch him on the shoulder this time, a bit harder and he scolds you sternly. - “Keep doing that and I’ll teach you a lesson, young lady”. - “And what kind of a lesson are we talking here, Sir?”, you insist on the last word as you’re holding your gaze fixed in his, hoping it won’t trigger him somehow, but you see him grin wider so you assume he did take your hint correctly. You both stay still for a few seconds and suddenly he steps back and goes around the counter. You follow his path with intent and turn on your seat as he’s now right in front of you. Having him towering over you like that makes you very self-conscious all of a sudden, and you feel something burning in your core as you see the way he looks at you. Almost predatory. His jaw’s a bit clenched and his nostrils flared. The silence between you two is heavy but kinda feels thrilling for you as you discover another side of him, a more intimate one. - “Up”, he says firmly, a single word but you know by the tone of his voice that it was an order and not a suggestion. So you stand up from the stool, your forehead barely reaching his shoulder’s level but you instinctively look up and find him already staring at you intently. You gulp unconsciously at that sight but it turns you on like crazy though. Suddenly you feel two hands on your hips, holding it tightly and lifting you from the ground. You put your hands over his shoulders by reflex even thought you’re sure he won’t let you fall. He sits you on the counter and stays right between your legs, his hands still anchored at your waist. - “I warned you girl”, he tells you slowly in his deep voice, you’re about to talk back but his finger in on your lips before you can voice a word. You’re going to learn what it costs to test him like that. You know from the look in his eyes you better comply this time so you just nod slightly and wait for what he’s got planned for your sentence. Seeing you obey him makes him grin and heat gets up a notch inside of you. He lets his finger on your lips before his hand goes down on your hip again. You can almost hear him breathe as the bar is now completely silent and you wonder if he can sense your heartbeat racing inside your chest. After a couple more seconds of unbearable stillness, he finally leans in and kisses you gently but with passion, really taking his time to make your lips his. One of your hands rises to cup his cheek but he pulls away as he feels it getting near him. - “No no. You don’t get to do that or anything unless I say so”, he darts out and you pout a little as you wanted to touch him, to feel him ever closer to you as he already was. “Are you gonna behave now?”, he asks you, a brow raised as he looks at you. Once again, you just nod and hope he’s going to follow his plan but only faster. And almost as if he can read your mind, he takes it slow, simply letting his hands slide down your thighs. Holding back a groan, you bite your lower lip as the hands go up again, his thumbs pushing harder on your skin now, making you inhale sharply. You’re certain he can feel your arousal by now judging by where they were and you’re glad he doesn’t tease you on that matter, simply letting his hands go further up, dragging your top along the way. Eyeing you from bottom to the top, he lingers on your breasts for a few seconds before your eyes meet again. A faint smile shows on your face and Clyde matches it for a split second before he’s back to his composed attitude. - “You’re not allowed to say a word, not even a sound, am I clear?”, he tells you as his hands set themselves on the hem of your skirt. He waits for your response and motions for you to help him get it off so you push yourself up, using the counter and a few seconds later, you’re completely naked in front of him. He contemplates the view and you can tell he likes it as he licks his bottom lip while he’s still staring. “No sound, remember”, he finally adds as he takes a step back, making your brows furrow slightly. Your mind is racing (as is your heartbeat), wondering what he will do to you now, but you don’t have to wait too long this time. His right hand lands softly on your lower belly, the touch making you shiver immediately. It gets lower and lower until it presses against your folds. You want to beg him for more and you now realize what this really is. He’s torturing you; this is your punishment for provoking him earlier on. Slick bastard you think to yourself. He knows what his ministrations will do to you and he’s enjoying it, you can tell as he grins once more, your face apparently betraying your inner thoughts. Moving up and down against your lower lips, those amber eyes of his are scanning your every move. The movements of your ribcage, the clenching of your hands on the edge of the counter, the defiance in your eyes. That last part seems to push him to move his hand deeper which makes you hold the counter harder, the joints on your hands getting whiter as seconds go by. You’re struggling to hold a moan, but you know he only begun to play with you. That man is going to be the death of you bur right now, you really couldn’t care less about your own demise. On the contrary. Expertly making his way to your clit, you bite your lip to contain the rush of pleasure it sends directly down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he starts rubbing it, gently but quite firmly, setting a nice pace which gives you the opportunity to settle down a bit, unclenching your hands and just enjoying what he’s doing to your parts. When he feels you’re getting comfy, he changes things a little, circling faster but barely touching it. You’re clearly his toy now and he’s going to make the most out of it. Going back to his first setting, his face draws closer to your breasts and starts pampering soft kisses all over them. That makes you close your eyes on the spot, that feeling of his plump, perfect lips on your skin is almost too much of you to bare. One of your nipples is attacked suddenly and you gulp hard. That was a low blow from your boyfriend since he knows how that makes you feel. But that was the plan after all, driving you to the edge time and time again and it’s working. Even a little too well in your opinion. Biting now the other one, that’s the moment he chooses to take things further along and the finger on your clit is now inside of you, followed not long after by another one. The combined sensations make you think your heart’s about to burst soon but it feels so damn good. Yet again, as you’ve just recover from that, steadying your breath, he leaves your chest and bends down, catching your stare, almost as if he’s giving you a hint of what’s coming next but you already know. Positioning you as he needs you to be, his hands caress your inner thighs before he makes them rest on his shoulders. Not a second later, his face is buried between them and you clench your jaw like never before to keep in the noise you so desperately want to let out. You will make him pay for that, you swear to yourself as his mouth started to work on your clit. Oh yeah, you’ll be returning the favor one day. Equality in a relationship was important after all, wasn’t it ? Nothing to do of course with some sort of retaliation, that would be childish of you. Now literally devouring you, Clyde’s looking at you closely but even with half of his face hidden, you can feel his grin. You hate that cocky bastard so much right now for being so smug but love how he knows how to make you feel so good. As you’re getting closer and closer to the edge, your hands find their way in his black curls, telling him without a word that you’re almost there. Message received because the fingers speed up their rhythm inside of you and his mouth sucks your clit like his life is depending on it. How you manage not to moan despite what he’s currently doing to you is a mystery. Clenching your hands in his raven hair, another silent signal you’re giving him, he launches the final strike, hitting the right spot he knows will send you to kingdom come and that’s when you finally cry out his name as you climax hard around his fingers. Letting you catch your breath and come down from your orgasm, he stands up straight again, licking his lips as he takes in the view and grins proudly. He made a mess out of you. - “Fuck, I love to see you all flustered like that”, he says as you sit back up on the counter. - “Well you made sure to get me all worked up, didn’t you? So why are you so surprised.” - “I did”, he smiles at you, leaning in to kiss you softly as an apology, tasting yourself on his as a result. “But I dare you to say that you mind I did”, he adds and the pout on your face answers his assumption. He chuckles and squeezes your hips, making you squirm before he’ leaning again to kiss your forehead this time. “I hope that’ll teach you a lesson missy”, he blurts out, seriousness in his voice but you grin. - “Oh yeah, trust me it has,” you start, “I’ve learned that all it takes for me to make you ravish me like that is a little defiance”, you point out playfully, making him genuinely laugh. That was not the lesson of course, but he likes that you can still keep your wittiness with him after that. - “Guess I’ll have to repeat that one ‘til it gets through that brain of yours uh”, he adds, taping your temple a couple of times while smiling at you lovingly. - “I’m a slow learner you know…”, you retort shrugging and another chuckle comes from his throat. - “Good thing I’m a patient man then”, he replies, still smiling at you and you feel your heart beam. You love that man so much, that beautiful human being that you’re incredibly lucky to call yours. You lock your forehead with his and stay like this for a long moment, your hand resting on his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin gently. Completely oblivious to the outside world and the fact that anyone passing by the bar’s windows could see you seated naked on the counter.

#one shot #my fics #clyde logan x reader #logan lucky fic

32 notes · View notes

littledreamybeth · 5 years

Text

Daddy to be

A/N: Even though I read through, it still hope there aren’t any grammar, spelling etc. mistakes. Enjoy! Like, Share, Comment!! ❤ (Pictures are not mine)

I have never expected that two lines would bring me so hard to tears that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Sitting on the cold tiles of our bathroom, I cannot help but stare at the positive pregnancy test in between my thumb and index finger while every second another hard sob hits me, desperately escaping my mouth. I place my hand in front of my lips to mute and control the cries. The tears blurry my complete vision, I can’t see anything properly. Even if it doesn’t seem like it in the first place; I’m still so relieved and happy.

Long enough have I been waiting to see this result.

‘Thank you… thankyouthankyouthankyou’ is the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now. When the two lines have slightly appeared at the beginning, I thought I didn’t see right. But then they’ve become more and more prominent, and well, here we are. I’m a future mummy. Hopefully.

I get up to clean my face. Cold water hits my skin, brining me back to my senses. Once I have dried my face, I immediately grab my phone to call my gynecologist. I really hope that this time we’re lucky, and the test doesn’t turn out to be a false alarm.

***

Only a few days later I find out that I’m indeed pregnant. The days until then have dragged on endlessly, so that it almost drove me insane. It has been another challenge to keep my feelings hidden from Harry, who has no idea about anything yet. I didn’t want to tell him until I had a final confirmation. I have been a shaky mess when my gynecologist called me into her office after some test, and only with pleasure has she announced that I am 100 percent and truly pregnant. I couldn’t believe my ears but deep down I have already felt it. Since I’ve seen the positive test, I’ve known that I am going to be a mother.

Now I’m sitting here and thinking about how to tell my family and friends about the entire thing.

Harry is currently at the studio, letting me have enough time to come up with a surprise. And since it’s Friday today- a day in which both of our families and Harry’s former members and friends gather around at our place to have a good time- it gives me the perfect opportunity to do everything at once.

After a while, I have the perfect idea. I go to my study and look for a card, which I find in my cupboard. Angels are drawn on its cover. It really fits to our situation. Then, I’m turning on my laptop in order to google how I can announce a pregnancy. Truth to be told, I’m not as creative as Harry is, which makes me dependent on the internet, but I hope it doesn’t matter. Clicking on Pinterest, I finally find a sentence that I want to use.

It’s just one sentence but very simple, and the message is clear and understandable.

Once I’m finished with a few changes, I shove the card into an envelope and place it into my favorite book at our bookshelf that stands in the living room. I’m sure no one will even spare a glance at it. Then, I maneuver myself into the kitchen in which I spend the next few hours to prepare some snacks for our guests. This time I’m extremely excited because after this day, nothing will be the same anymore. Our lives are going to change.

***

The evening is going very well so far. Children’s laughter fills our entire house. My parents converse with Anne, Harry goes around and distributes drinks on a plate to the 1D boys and their wives, Gemma chats with my brother. And I- I just watch the whole scenery with a smile adorning my face.

I haven’t had the guts to tell them yet, but I know that every passing minute is wasted time. I need to tell them.

“Do you want a drink, love?” Harry, who suddenly stands in front of me, asks. I flinch. I must’ve been very lost in my thoughts.

“What?” I look down at the plate. “Oh, no. No drinks for me tonight,” I smile.

“Why is that?”

You need and excuse, Y/N. Hurry! “I don’t feel like drinking,” I state. I can badly tell you that I’m pregnant, darling, or it will spoil the surprise.

“Okay…” Harry reacts, eyeing me weirdly. I really hope he doesn’t suspect anything yet. He knows I never turn down a drink, no matter what. I sigh out when he distances himself from me.

I have to do it, I tell myself. Now or never. Well, not ‘never’, I have to do it eventually, but you know what I mean.

My legs lead me to the bookshelf where I grab the envelope out of its hiding spot. No one really notices me, too occupied with something else while I’m minding my own business.

Then I clear my throat, gaining everyone’s attention. My fingers begin to tremble just as myself, and I’m afraid of losing my voice when I start to talk. My gaze wanders at my parents first, who spread a feeling of safety and calmness whenever I look at them, then at Gemma and Anne who accepted me from the moment I’ve met them and who welcomed me into their hearts, and finally my eyes meet the ones of the young man that I love so much. My heart beats against my chest, threatening to burst out. I take a deep breath before I let my voice echo in the entire room.

“Harry, I have something for you,” I say. “Can you please come here?”

My husband looks at me confused just like the others, but he still fulfills my order.

“What’s this about, love?” he asks once he stands next to me. Instead of answering his question, I place the white envelope into his hands.

“What’s in there?”

“Please just read it,” I urge him, “it’s very important.”

“Y/N, is everything alright?” My mother speaks to me. I don’t know why she thinks that something’s wrong, but I ease her mind by assuring her, “Yes, mum. There is nothing to be worried about.”

When I turn back to Harry, he has already torn off the envelope and now holds the card in his hands. He looks at me again, trying to read anything from my expression, however, I’m not giving away anything. I stay neutral as much as possible.

“Is this something like a confession?” he laughs, you could see his nervousness. How he hit the bull’s eye with his suspicion!

“You’ll find out when you read it,” I shrug with my shoulders.

My husband finally opens the card. I can hear the rhythm of my heartbeat. Bum..bum… bumbumbumbum. Heat rushes through my entire body.

I repeat what I have noted down on that card in my head over and over again.

“The butterflies in my stomach will turn into 4 tiny feet.”

Harry observes the written words for a little moment, and his eyes widen as he understands what they mean. He looks like as if something had punched him in the stomach, stealing the air from his lungs. Different emotions are displayed on his face, but only one dominates- shock. I notice his shaky fingers trying to keep the card in his hands. His mouth opens and closes, not being able to find the right words to express his feelings. I cannot blame him though- I even had no proper words for it.

Everyone directs their gaze on Harry, and worry is written on their expressions. They are probably wondering what has caught him so off guard. There aren’t actually many things in the world that makes Harry speechless- this one, however, clearly does.

After exchanging a few glances around the room, Gemma is the first one to cut the silence.

“Harry, what’s wrong with you?” she asks him. She is just as oblivious to the news as her brother had been a few minutes ago. Like I said, I haven’t truly told anyone. Harry, who still disbelievingly eyes the card, finally breaks from his frozen position, and looks directly at me. His eyes speak volumes.

“What’s written on that card?” someone questions from the back. Niall, I believe.

Suddenly, a heavy sob overwhelms my husband, making him instantly fall down on knees. He cries loudly like I have never seen him cry before, with both arms raised up to the ceiling as if he wanted to thank god for this wonderful, life-changing blessing. I can contain my own tears only with difficulty, instantly crouching down to his eye level. The tears in his eyes run down his cheeks like a waterfall. I bring my thumbs up to wipe them away.

Anne, followed by Gemma, has reached us, lifting up the card Harry has let fall down from the ground and reading it with her daughter. It doesn’t take too long for them to connect the dots.

“No way!” my mother-in-law screams. “No way!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Gemma joined in, “Are you kidding me, Y/N?! Pregnant?! And with TWINS?! Holy shit!!”

My mum jumps out of the couch, also with a scream escaping her mouth. “What?! What?! I’m gonna be a grandma?!” Then she collapses against my brother, who still doesn’t seem to be able to register what’s going on. My father shouts, “Really? Really?”

I look at them with a genuine smile on my lips. It’s confirmation enough. Meanwhile, I can hear the others either clapping or sharing our joy, congratulating us, which I reciprocate with gratitude. Gemma slings her arms around her mum, hugging her tightly, and I can see how excited they are to become nana and aunt. My own mum is still overwhelmed, but I know that she feels the same as we do.

“Oh my, I cannot believe this.” Gemma breathes, fanning with her hands to suppress her emotions.

Around that chaos and conversations, I try to lift up Harry back to his wobbly feet. His cries lessen from one second to another, and he looks at me again. Deeply. I take out a handkerchief and gently begin to clean his face.

“Are you serious?” Harry croaks, his eyes full of happy tears, yet I can see a light glint of doubt behind them. “You’re not joking, right? This is true?” I shake my head hard in agreement while I wrap my arms comfortingly around his middle, pressing my front against his. Of course, it is not! Never- I stress, never could I bring myself to joke about a serious issue like pregnancy. Especially not in front of our family and friends. I know how bad Harry has wished to become a father- so bad that whenever we unfortunately had a negative result, he would lock himself in our bedroom and only come out after hours with puffy, red eyes- so why would I traumatize him by pulling such horrible a prank on him?

The burden of not being a father weighed heavily on his shoulders for months, and the failed attempts to have a baby dragged down his mood every passing day. I’ve seen it many times. Especially after the way he would gaze at his friends�� children whenever we babysit them, the way he would interact and hold them in his arms, and play with them. His green orbs are always full of love. It was at those moments that I had the urge to give him a child as soon as possible, just as he craved for, however, not everything works the way you want it, does it? I’ve tried to encourage him, myself included, to be patient and keep trying- that one day we would be lucky enough to become parents. Patience has a limit, I am aware of that, and the long wait would often tear a little bit of it down. But I’ve talked to myself into believing that at the end, the wait is going to be worth it. And it totally has been! We aren’t blessed with only one but two angels who will join our family soon.

“When did you find out?” Harry questions, burying his nose in my hair.

“Only a few days ago.”

“How far along are you?”

“8 weeks.”

“And you’re telling me this now?” he asks, a hint of fake offense underlining his voice.

“I wanted to make sure that the test was correct, so I immediately booked an appointment with my gynecologist. And of course, I had to plan how I wanted to deliver the message.”

Harry laughs, delicately kissing my forehead.

“So, we are really pregnant, aren’t we?”

“We definitely are.”

I grab the ultrasound picture I have hidden out of my jeans pocket.

“Look,” I say, as a point at the little shapes depicted on it. “That’s Baby A and this one is Baby B.”

I watch him as he observes the sonogram with awe. He looked very intensely at our tiny babies, marking them not only into his mind but also into his heart.

“I still cannot believe this is happening,” he admits.

“Right? It seems like a dream to me.”

The others in the room are long forgotten and it feels like as if only Harry and I exist. We are in our own bubble. From the back I can faintly hear someone saying not to disturb us for a little bit and let the newly parents enjoy the announcement. I cannot focus on anything else anyway. I only have eyes for the ultrasound picture and my husband.

“We deserve it,” Harry stresses determined.

“We do,” I agree.

Harry bends downs to me and places a tender kiss on my lips. I can feel all his emotions that he pours into our kiss, making my heart flutter and burn with love. His warm hand gently touches and caresses my belly, drawing circles with his fingertips. When we pull away, he rests his forehead against mine, his minty breath hits my lips again when he whispers, “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

tags ❤ : @hes-writer, @hes-writer2, @sad-little-asshole, @tpwkal

513 notes · View notes

blizzardfluffykpop · 4 years

Text

Santa?

Summary: Christmas is coming and my beliefs are leaving.

Oneshot

Jaebeom x Reader

This was requested by @prettywordsyouleft btw :)

Prompt: 24. "I'm Santa Claus" "And I'm the queen of England…"

As a child, I always believed in Santa Claus, but each year since then it is getting harder to believe. I think there may be a toymaker but to think that he is the one delivering them is bull roar. It's either all his elves or the parents. You're only supposed to get one present from Santa and when I was a kid I got three. Yeah, explain that math to me, from there it got harder to believe in him. The spirit and the kindness that he exudes and makes people feel is like nothing else. The time of giving it's a spirit that Christmas brings along, it's one of my favorite times of the year for that reason.

Santa may not be real, but his spirit lives on in us, that's what I choose to believe every year. But he can't be physically real for seeing is believing and I've never seen him. Christmas Eve's Eve is tonight and I have no one to spend it with, my family is in Timbuktu, my friends are off on holidays and I have my cat. I dressed her up in a cute little sweater and hat, turning on a Christmas special after making some Hot Chocolate I was ready to settle in for the night and fall asleep on the couch.

12 O'clock and my cat and I snuggled up on the couch and sleeping peacefully, until I hear a loud crash and I'm up because my cat's claws are digging into me in fear before she jumps off of me. Oh God, I'm getting robbed on Christmas eve, I have no weapons and the man just fell through the chimney. He mutters to himself, "I got to get better at that landing Dancer…" what is this man talking about? Is he talking about robbing more people and that's a code word?

He smiles seeing me, oh no, Brooklyn I thought we had a pact get him with your claws baby girl. She is in my room hiding and I wish that was me right now. He stays by the chimney and tells me, "I'm Santa Claus" he says proudly and I raise my brow, "And I'm the Queen of England" I say sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes, "My father saw that you stopped believing after all these years… it broke his heart, you were one of his strongest believers. Always spreading Christmas cheer, telling your little siblings day and night how Santa is real for getting you a set of Glam Beach Monster High Dolls. For every year you stayed a kid at heart, so he would still leave you a present no matter how small. He would find something and then you turned 26." I looked up at him, "My parents and friends over the years confessed how Santa wasn't real. That they were the ones buying me Christmas presents. They had just written Santa’s name all over it, but each time I believed that they were wrong. And it started getting harder. And how can you be the Santa Claus without a beard?" He looks at me in disbelief at the end, "Because that Santa is a figurehead and my father who is retired. He sent me here to see what changed your mind." "And you expect me to believe you because?" "If you can believe in my father for 22 years, you can believe in me." I roll my eyes this man must be kidding me, just because he came down the chimney that's supposed to make me believe? He looks at me and hollers up the chimney. I either need sleep or this is just a weird robbery gag I'm apart of; I hope they don't steal my cat. I look over at the chimney and down comes a red bag, what was in my Hot Chocolate?

He comes over and sits next to me and says, "Tell me what you want for Christmas" Millions of thoughts run through my head, but one sticks out, "Proof that Santa is real" he smiles at me, "You're not simple, but just because you see know he is real, does not mean other people will believe you…" I nod my head and I look at the chimney waiting for Santa to appear, and when I look over at the man sitting next to me, he gives me a snow globe. "It's the one you got from Santa when you were 6. But it shattered into millions of pieces from the summer heat that year." I look at him softly, "How do you know that…" "As I said before, I'm Santa…" "Then why do you not have a beard?" "To gain a beard you have to be married and old. Which it seems I am neither yet-" I laughed in amusement and a bit in hysteria. I shake the globe and I remember receiving a facsimile globe, just as the one I have in my hands, and my parents having no idea where it came from, but I loved it with my whole heart. I had never seen another one like it in my whole life, no stores had this globe, with Fireball from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer he was my favorite character as a kid, but my parents could never find anything resembling him. When Christmas came that year and I got this globe, it made me believe in Santa Claus. When it shattered my heart broke I waited a whole year to cherish the Christmas magic it brought me, and then it was gone. It was another stake in my beliefs. "How do you know about this? Only my mother, father, and I know…" he smiles, "There is this big globe where we can say someone's name and watch them. I was going through kids that had the same age as me and seeing what they did for fun. I watched you mourn over that particular snow globe, my father never gave you another which I found peculiar. So when you gave up believing I decided this would be the right present for you to remember." There is no way, "Well I have quite the night ahead of me tomorrow if you change your mind just swish the snow globe three times to the left." With that, he stuck his finger to the right side of his nose and up the chimney, he went. I rub my eyes staring at the globe, where he was, the chimney, and then my hot chocolate. "Shit I got to stop drinking hot chocolate." With that I shake my head and go to my room none of this occurring to me that this real. But if it was that guy was pretty cute, but I tend to daydream vividly, there is no way that could be real. With that thought, I fall asleep.

It has been two days and the snow globe is still there, my cat keeps hissing at the chimney something she has never done before. Could this all be real, well if I just believe it, then it is. That means it's true, thus, Santa is real, I just meet Santa's son, a soon to be Santa Claus. Wait a Santa has to marry to gain a beard? You know I can believe that, does that mean Santa has a different name, that the name ‘Santa’ is just an alias? That's pretty interesting, but that means only family will ever know their real name and why out of all the people that have fallen out of belief did he visit me? Well, the only way to answer that was swishing the beautiful snow globe three times to the left.

I pick it up carefully, weighing my options today is Christmas and I got nothing in my stocking or under my tree, but Christmas magic still filled my heart. That snow globe bringing me joy, and without a second thought, I swished it three times. And there he is, "I thought you were never going to swish it…" "Don't have that much faith in me… I wished it because I wanna know, why out of all those that fell out of belief, did you contact me?" He runs the back of his neck, "I was afraid you'd ask that,..." I pat the seat next to me and he sits down, "You see over the years I watched you through the big globe, and yes it does sound creepy. But I grew this stupid crush on you. It was outrageous of me to even try to see you in the first place. You're so beautiful, kind, and loved Christmas as much as I do. You pulled at every single one of my heartstrings, I couldn't help myself from falling for you. That's why I chose you and picked you out of all the non-believers, and it hurt so bad to see you lose interest and start to think that Santa Claus isn't real." I look down at the floor taking it all in, "Then why did I not receive a gift?" "Because you're an adult now… and The Claus can just hope you pass down your spirit onto children so they will receive joy and gifts. Remember not all Christmas gifts have to be physical." I sit in thought, "You've liked me all these years, yet, I know nothing about you"

He smiles at me turning to look me dead in the eye, "I'm Im Jaebeom or Jaebeom Claus, I'm just like the figurehead Claus but I have a talent for music and dance. My favorite holiday is Halloween--" I gasp at him, "Wait. Woah-Woah-stop right there, Jaebeom. Your favorite holiday is Halloween, I don't know if you noticed but you're soon to be The Santa Claus--" I tell him emphasizing on the ‘the’, he shrugs at me and tells me blatantly, "I can never be Santa Claus without a Mrs. Claus" I roll my eyes and continue on, "The holiday of celebrating all that goes bump in the night, of honoring the dead-- aren't you supposed to be honoring the living--" "I know what you're trying to say, but most people remember their past relatives on Christmas, and I also fall down the chimney once and awhile, so I do go bump in the night. We're more treats than tricks, even if a kid has been naughty. There in our hearts, there is no naughty kid all of them deserve love, and it's the only time when we can give that to them. I love Halloween because you can be someone else, I no longer have to be Santa Claus I can be like every guy, and be a firefighter, a witch, or something silly that I could never be in reality. Because I'm not allowed to live other dreams unless I want all children to be unhappy." He sighs, "Oh," I mutter, "that must be a sore subject--" "It's okay, I love my job I just am sad that I don't get to experience the world like other twenty-year-olds like yourself do." "You really are a Claus aren't you?" He nods, "I think that is pretty admirable to believe in other holidays while being one yourself, what else do you like Jaebeom?"

That's how I spent my Christmas talking to Jaebeom. He asked me questions as I asked him, but the question remained in the back of my head, did he want me as his Mrs. Claus? But it wasn't a question I was ready to hear an answer for. I found out they had cell phones so I could communicate with him easier than being summoned by a Christmas Snow globe which could draw him out of important work or a creative moment.

February 14th felt like someone shot an arrow through my heart, I fell for Jaebeom that day, coincidence, I think not. On April Fool's Day, he showed me the big production, Claus' greatest creations and all the snowmen they make. And if you're wondering, yes it is cold, freezing even, polar bears don't even venture to the side where they live. I started noticing little things that I liked more about Jaebeom than any man, woman, I met before. That's when I knew I was in deep, and there was no way for my heart to recover. But if I married him, how the hell would I tell my parents? That was a question I kept to myself, and if there is one woman you shouldn't tell, that would be Mrs. Claus, I love her, I do, but everyone and their grandmother would know that I liked Jaebeom in three minutes.

It's December again and I'm completely infatuated by Jaebeom, I keep seeing him by flying on Cupid, best reindeer in the lot, sorry Dancer. I call for Cupid and my cat snuggles up to him until he licks a big strip up her fur and she hisses and runs away, poor girl. I pull on my winter coat and we're off to the North Pole. 'It's December 15th', I think looking at my seven days before I would officially meet Jaebeom. I find him sleeping in the hay in the reindeer barn. I wake him up asking why he's sleeping in the hay, "Because I was waiting for you" my cheeks go scarlet, I sit across from as he stretches his arms out. "I think I love you Jaebeom" I say softly, "You-you-what…" "I love you Jaebeom, you pull on my heartstring. That's why I brought you this. I brought all the Halloween movies I could find, and maybe we can watch them and cuddle together?" He grins pulling us up, "I like you too, and I love that idea."

Seeing is believing but there are some things you don't have to see to believe that they are real. You don't believe the sun no longer exists when the sun goes down just as when the moon leaves your line of vision, it still is real. You know they are real because you feel it in your stomach. Always trust your gut because it is likely that it is right. Hell, I was right for believing in Santa Claus, for I did become Mrs. Claus. Although Jaebeom and I still don't have white hair, we do have the rings, and yeah, telling my parents that Santa is real and I'm marrying him. That was a weird one, my parents didn't believe Jaebeom till we brought them to the North Pole.

On the mantelpiece, the snow globe still sits while Jaebeom makes new musical instruments for kids I make snow globes and the elves do the rest. I'm glad that believing in Santa Claus for all those years led me to marry Jaebeom. Well, Santa Claus, I should say, although I feel like his dad is much more a Santa than he is for now anyway. My parents along with my siblings come to visit every once and awhile, but the day saved for Jaebeom and me is Halloween. Because for Halloween we dress up and dance to all the classics, laughing at all the classic horror movies. You would never expect that this Claus loves Halloween, but it is one of the cutest aspects of him.

Believe in all the small things because they just may be real.

27 notes · View notes

turdblossommm · 5 years

Text

Springsteen

Summary: Sometimes something as simple as a song can bring memories rushing back.

Pairings: biker!bucky x reader

Word Count: 2,255

A/N: I was driving around the other say and Springsteen by Eric Church come on and it inspired the one-shot.

masterlist

“Born in the USA…”

Steve always could see the look in his friend’s eyes when the song came on, sad that his friend couldn’t move on from one girl. Bucky would always argue that you weren’t just a girl, you were his girl, his best girl. In Bucky’s eyes you were the only girl in the world that could make him happy, he believed you completed him

Bucky sighed as the song played, every time he heard the song it was like he was sent back in time. The Glory days his dad would call it, when all he had to worry about was passing classes and you. some days he yearned to hear the song, to be sent back to a better time where he was surrounded by his own sadness

Now his days were filled at the shop, keeping himself distracted from any thought of you. But when the damn song comes on he can’t refrain from seeing you. He’s thrown back to a simpler time, before life got in the way.

I see you standin' there all night long. Discount shades, store bought tan. Flip flops and cut-off jeans

He can see you smiling at him over the cash register of the 7/11, hair windswept from being on the back of the bike. You winked at him sending him into a frenzy as you exited the convince store with a couple red bulls and jujubes. Bucky never understood your obsession with them, but he never complained when you made him eat one.

Bucky always loved the way the sun beat down on your skin when you’d drive around in the beat up pick up you loved so much, the sun illuminated the glow of your dewy skin from the heat. He could see you screaming song lyrics at the top of your lungs, even off key and tone deaf he never loved you more than he did in those moments.

In the moments people didn’t see you, the real you. Not the person your parents made you be. He heard the whispers all over town that he was just a phase for you and you’d get over it and grow up. You’d always kiss his neck and whisper ‘fuck em’ in his ear when he had his doubts. You were always there to chase his demons away, you always said you be there the chase them away like the raccoons on the back porch.

But if I whispered your name, I bet there'd still be a spark

Bucky knows what you two had was different than what he’s ever had with anyone else. You always said ‘true love was for suckers’, but Bucky believed you were the only one for him. You were there for him during the ups and the downs. You were there was he finally became an official member of the club. You were there when he dropped out of school, you were the when he Ma died.

For months you’d sneak out of your house and come stay at his so he could sleep through the night. He couldn’t stand how the house felt without his Ma in it, but he couldn’t show that in front of his sisters. You were there to catch him when he fell, you were there when everyone left.

Bucky knows if you ever wandered back to this dusty old town there’d still be a spark between you two because what you were everything those other girls weren’t. Everything but his. You still held his heart where ever you were and he always wondered if you thought he held yours. When he’d lay awake at night he always wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you moved on and had a husband and children of your own.

Back when this old tattoo had brand new ink and we didn't care what your mom would think about your name on my arm

Bucky is a biker and tattoos littered his arms and the rest of his body, but none came close to meaning as much as your name did. You had just turned 18 and you wanted tattoos in celebration, much to Steve’s dismay who had ‘Margret’ tattooed on his bicep. Bucky smiles as he remembered you yelling at him about being a hypocrite, watching you throw your head back and laughing at his lame comeback.

You had ‘James Buchanan’ tattooed along the curve of your left breast so that he’d be the only one to see it, you also had a little red star done on the inside of your wrist, like Peggy had a blue one. It showed they were old ladies to the Howling Comandos.

Bucky remembered how happy he’d feel when you’d tell your mom that it wasn’t a phase and that you loved him. You never cared what she thought about him nor did you care about what you father or brothers had to say about his either. You’d always say he was your forever and nothing they say could change that.

Until it did.

Or he thought so. When you told him you’d be going away for college and he didn’t take it well. You’d only be two hours away but to Bucky that was a life time, insecurities clouded his mind and judgment and he said a few choice words he didn’t mean that left you running out of the clubhouse in tears and the velvet box in his pocket weight a hundred more pounds.

Even though you're a million miles away when you hear 'Born in the USA’ you relive those glory days

You grit your teeth as you pass the city limits sign, double pumping the clutch on your beat up truck that has yet to fail you. You hadn’t been home nor talked to your family since you left for college, you blame them for the lose of Bucky, their judgments always fueled his insecurities. You were home for good now, you father passed away and left the business to you.

You smiled as you drove through the town, all your memories can flooding back as you heard a familiar tune. You could almost see Bucky in the passenger seat, hair covering his face and his blue eye alive with joy and happiness. All these years you’ve had this dull ache in your heart for the blue eye boy.

All those times you two spent driving around or fishing at the lake that ended up in a water fight and a chilling ride back on the bike. Your parents always said people like them didn’t associate with bikers and the likes of them. They could ground you, take everything from you but Bucky was the one thing they couldn’t touch. You were never more true to yourself than when you were with him and the club.

You always told Bucky that ‘true love was for suckers’ because you had never seen it, not even in your parents. But the more time you spent with him the more you believed in it, you could see it in his eyes when he looked at you. You could see it in the little things he did for you, when he’d get you succulents because you couldn’t stand a bouquet of flowers and the maintenance they need to just die in a week.

Nobody has ever gotten you they way Bucky did, he knew when you were sad or upset and he always knew how to fix it. Bucky knew what move you were going to make before you knew and vice versa. You knew Bucky like the back of your hand, you could tell by the look in his eyes when something was wrong.

When you start to dive down the dark rabbit hole of your break up with him, you always find it to be your fault. If you tired harder maybe he wouldn’t thought you were leaving him. Maybe if you talked about your feelings then he would’ve tired to make it work. Bucky knew you better than anyone and he called you out on your flaws.

But everyone is flawed and a part of you hates him for making you feel so weak about them when he has plenty to go around and you loved him for them. Sometimes when the dark thoughts roll in like a horrible thunderstorm you question if Bucky ever loved you. Then you mentally slap yourself, of course he did but,

True love is for suckers.

Funny how a melody sounds like a memory

You drove the truck down that familiar road to the place you once loved to be, when you had your first tattoo done, where you lost your innocence. The blacktop had recently been repaved but you still swerved over the pot hole that used to be there. While the driveway had been paved the shop and the clubhouse hasn’t changed a bit, aside from a new play structure.

Bucky heard a familiar grumble of a truck, the sound sent him back years, so far that he thought he was imagining it. He was so deep in his thoughts he missed the ping of someone arriving in the parking lot. He dropped the wrench he was using and wiped his finger on the oil rang before throwing it over his shoulder.

Bucky stopped where he stood when he saw the green truck in his parking lot, he peered around to see you sitting on the swing of the play structure or Tony’s daughter and Steve’s kids. You looked the same, time had been easy on your features. He could see that you still didn’t wear makeup and you still wore the beat up cowboy boots you loved so much. It was like you never changed

You watched him approach you from the swing set, your breath hitched in your throat as you took him in, he looked different from when you were kids, his hair is now grown out and pulled back in a low bun. He was no longer skinny and lanky, but filled out with muscle. He was no longer the boy you fell in love with, but a man. You questioned what you were doing here, there’s no way he even felt remotely the same as you.

“Hey doll” Your heart clenched at his pet name for you, Bucky scolded himself saying the term of endearment

“Hey” He sat on the swing next you as an awkward silence filled the air and mixed with the pre-existing tension. The air was so thick you felt like you were choking

“H-how long will you be in town” Bucky remembered seeing your father’s obituary

“Indefiantly, I took over my father’s business” You finally looked him in his eyes, the blue eye you used to lose yourself in “I want to come here and make things right between us, I don’t know if we can be what we used to be but I want us to be friends” Bucky nodded as his heart began to race

“I’m sorry for what I said” He whispered, his voice hoarse “I was afraid” You grabbed his hand and Bucky felt his hand melt into yours

“I was too, I needed you and you just crushed me Buck” You could feel tears welling in your eyes

“I missed you” Bucky’s eye bore into yours

“I missed you so fucking much Bucky” You leaned your forehead against his, Bucky sighed and you felt his hot breath against your lips. You were pulled apart my a crash in the shop and Bucky shot up from his position on the swing

“Mr. Barnes I was w-wondering if y-you-” You giggled as the kid stuttered across the lot and when Sam started cussing the kid you it sent you into another fit of laugher causing Bucky you smile and let out a chuckle. He missed the sound of your laugh, it was soft or angelic, it was a deep cackle that never failed to put a smile on his face

“Let go inside, the truck needs a tune up” Bucky put his hand out for you and you grabbed it as he pulled you up from the swing. You inhaled the smell of the shop, the smell of oil and stale beer filling your nostrils.

“I missed this place” You smiled as Peggy quickly walked over to you and enveloped you in a hug, she opened her mouth to say something but was cut of by screaming

“Auntie Y/N!”

“AuntieY/N!” The Roger children came running for you and you squatted down and scooped up little Sarah and blew a raspberry on her belly as she squealed and ruffled Grant’s hair. When ever Peggy made the drive out to the city she always stopped by with the kids

“Hey guys” You set them down and saw a bunch of unfamiliar faces looking at you. Introductions were made and you quickly found Bucky through all the new people and plopped down on the stool where he worked on your truck, where you used to always find yourself. You watched him work and asked questions every now and then, like you used to

“Do you ever think they’re could be an ’us’ again” Bucky asked on evening a few weeks later, he was still tinkering around the shop

“I thought that’s what were working at” You smiled as his lips stretched into a smile and threw his arm over your shoulder and Bruce Springsteen’s voice filled the air

#biker!bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes au #sad bucky #bucky imagine #BUCKY AU #Winter Solider #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #biker!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #marvel #Avengers #avengers au #howling commandos

100 notes · View notes

lower7896 · 4 years

Link

Criterion Collection Spine #97 Notable Music: Fight the Power - Public Enemy Fear of a Black Planet 1989

**Spoilers Below**

What a colorful movie this was, so vibrant and full of life. The costume design was amazing, highlighting the tendency for bright and vivid color palettes in Afro-American fashion trends. This was also an effective way to enhance the heat felt throughout the movie, as it was supposed to be on the hottest day of the summer. NBA sportswear, Nike sportswear, Air Jordans, and other activewear was used throughout to great effect.

Radio Raheem has been on my mind for awhile. What seemed like a minor role, quickly turned into one of the central roles in the finale, and he is a polarizing figure, quite complex and I feel that he is easily dismissed by many as just a plain “thug” with a tragic ending. Bill Nunn played him in such a way that its easy for him to be misunderstood and cast in a negative light, which is what often happens to young black men who carry inner pain, and lack the skills to assimilate into society in a positive way. In an interview, Bill Nunn expressed Radio Raheem’s desires as wanting people to experience the empowerment and the joy that he feels whenever he listens to “Fight the Power” by Public Enemy. The fact that people on the street keep complaining about the volume and keep telling him to turn it off and the fact that he keeps ignoring everybody and continues to blast his boombox, signifies that he might have issues empathizing with others, since he wants so badly to have everyone empathize with him and how he feels. The real tragedy however, is that this behavior is the catalyst by which the incendiary ending manifests itself and sets in motion, the events which will consume Radio Raheem. His soliloquy on Love vs. Hate encapsulates the whole movie and the greater issue of racial tensions in America.

Spike Lee took on making this movie at a time when it was difficult to find a studio that put faith (read: money) into a project by a black filmmaker, even though Lee had already proven himself with two verifiable hit movies. Reading the notes in his production diary gave me all kinds of insight into his thought process before and throughout the making of the film. One of the most notable parts that stood out to me was that he really wanted Robert DeNiro to play the part of Sal the pizzeria owner, which ultimately went to Danny Aiello. I mean, Spike really had his heart set on “Bob” (as he called him) to accept the part and bring real gravitas to the film. DeNiro turned him down citing scheduling conflicts or not wanting to play a part similar to what he had already played. I call BS. This was 1988 and DeNiro had done The Godfather, Raging Bull, and Taxi Driver, but he hadn’t yet done Goodfellas, Heat, Casino, or any of the other iconic Italian gangster roles of the 1990s. My theory is that DeNiro read the script and upon seeing that his character would be manhandled by Radio Raheem, and then have his pizza shop looted and burned to the ground by everyone in the neighborhood, and then pay Mookie $500 the next day, it would make him look like a sucker and a loser. The character Sal loses everything and the next day, everybody in the neighborhood just goes about their lives as if nothing ever happened.

My point is that we all know that DeNiro is one of the ultimate movie badasses of all time, and the roles that he chose in the movies that he was in solidified his status. Had he chosen to play Sal in Do The Right Thing, would we have seen him in the same light? Would he have received the offers to play those badass gangster characters by the studio execs after seeing the ultimate macho badass sitting on the sidewalk in front of his smoldering pizza shop, completely defeated? Let me ask you this. Have you ever seen Danny Aiello in any major film or TV production that involved Italian mafia characters since Do The Right Thing? He was nowhere to be seen in that Golden Age of Mafioso TV shows and films of the 1990′s, including the Sopranos. My guess is that nobody in the movie-watching audience would take a Mafia gangster who had been “defeated by the moulignans,” seriously. DeNiro is no dummy. He knew that taking this role would have killed his career, but Spike Lee didn’t realize that DeNiro would think this way since Spike could only look at the film through his own lens, and the importance of the message that the film carried. In other words, Spike Lee had blinders on when it came to considering DeNiro for the role of Sal.

The Ending

What a clever way to suss out inherent racist value systems within an individual’s sense of morality and justice. In later interviews, Spike Lee has said that the only people who have ever asked him about why Mookie instigated the riot by throwing the trash can into the pizzeria window, have been white people. Not a single black person has ever asked him that question, and therein lies the genius of this ending. For those white people who are upset about the loss of Sal’s pizzeria, the loss of a young black man to the injustice of police brutality is not much more than an afterthought. Perhaps, because Radio Raheem committed a crime against Sal (assault, perhaps attempted murder since he was not letting up on choking Sal.) then the perceived value of his life was completely gone? Does he then have no value as a human being and is therefore brushed aside as the more pertinent issue, the burning of the pizzeria by the mob, takes center stage? Is he just irredeemable? Are criminals of all races seen this way? As irredeemable and therefore without value, or certainly as having less value than a pizza parlor?

These are the questions that must be asked of oneself. If we were to reverse the situation, what would we feel? If a white man were killed by a group of blacks, and the white mob rioted and burned down a black-owned business (a barbershop, for example), would you feel that the greater injustice was the burning of the barbershop?? Would the innocent barbershop owner and the years of toil and hardship that it took to build his business be of more value than the life of that one white man? Because if in both cases, you choose Sal’s Pizzeria and you choose the life of the hypothetical white man, then you must confront the fact that you value whites over blacks, and that is definitively racism. We have to get to the point where can we can admit this to ourselves if it is indeed, true. Only then, can we move forward and begin to heal the racism and bigotry that exist within our society.

Addendum (2020):

In light of the recent Black Lives Matter protests that have come after years of police brutality having been captured on video have having culminated with the murder of George Floyd by a white policeman, Do The Right Thing has, sadly in my view, found what seems to be a sort of timelessness in its relevancy that I wish wouldn’t exist. I wish we didn’t have to deal with racism and bigotry in our society anymore. The fact that Do The Right Thing is this relevant in 2020 forces me to ask myself if we’ve made any progress at all since it came out in 1989. The only progress I can think of is that the technology that we now have (cameras on our smartphones and social media) has proven to further shine a national spotlight on what has always existed. It’s as if we’ve lived in the dark and technology has flipped on the light switch and we can now see that we’ve been living with roaches this whole time. Awareness is the only progress that we seem to have made, with the hope that maybe we can make some real changes. The roots of white supremacy are so deep in the country, and there is so much resistance to systemic change, that I wonder if we will ever live in that world that Martin Luther King dreamed of. For now, let’s keep our foot on the gas, continue to speak out for justice, and VOTE out those who are clearly on the wrong side of history.

#do the right thing #blacklivesmatter #brooklyn #spike lee #radio raheem #criterion collection #film #movie #movie review #new york #bluray #public enemy #fight the power #rosie perez #bedford stuyvesant #black lives matter #bed stuy #hip hop

0 notes

desperatemenministry · 7 years

Text

Demolishing Strongholds – One Proven Key to Success

“Secret Sins” Series (Part Three)

Most editors and directors think it ill-advised to give the answer or reveal “whodunit” in the first chapter of a book or scene of a TV show. To do so risks losing reader or viewer interest. I run the same risk because, as men, we are known for our “sound bite men-tality”. Nevertheless, I felt strongly led to share the answer in the first few lines. The key to demolishing strongholds brought upon us through secret sins in our lives (assuming we choose to do so):

ACCOUNTABILITY

A Sad Story. Hard to believe it has been twenty-plus years since that awkwardly, sad time. Our accountability group was composed of a few men from church—friends and golfing buddies. One was an associate pastor—a terrific man with a great family. At that point in the life of our group, I seem to recall we were not drilling down very deeply into our personal lives.

The first troubling key was our pastor friend began to join us less frequently. When we did see him, his countenance was not the same. He looked troubled in his spirit. Sadly, as happens all too often among church men, including pastors, his affair was uncovered and the “hell” began—perhaps more so for his sweet family. Even more tragic is that was the second moral failure of a staff pastor at our church within a few years. Where was the accountability of and from the church leadership?

Accountability is perhaps the most overused/under-applied word in “Christian-speak”.

Most men avoid biblical accountability as much as eating liver! Interesting that we yield to being held accountable at work for attitudes and actions, but not spiritually for being the men God expects based on His Word and the many examples of Christ.

The Accountability Caveat. I have learned over many years of doing (or attempting) life with men in AGs, it is impossible to hold men accountable who really do not want to go there. Most of us are pretty good at keeping things buried—to a point. Lesson learned:

Men must want accountability and surrender to the process—both of which create stumbling blocks for many churched men, even for some who are solid Christians.

The Accountability Mandate. I do not recall a specific point in my walk with the Lord when the Holy Spirit burned this desperate need in my spirit, but I am so thankful He did. Perhaps it was early on when I was being discipled by an older Christian man. While that really does not matter, what does is being true to this passionate concern for the spiritual health and well-being of men who say they belong to Christ.

On several occasions when writing or teaching on this subject, I searched the Scripture for specific use of the word(s) accountability or accountable in the present context—man to man. I found none. Does that mean we consider this an extra-biblical concept and excuse for not engaging? Hardly.

Following are three of many verses that point to the need for men to engage—holding one another accountable to biblical living and representing well our Savior.

1. Most men know this verse:

“Iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27: 17 NASB)

Having had a strong background in metallurgy and metal working early in my career, I like to add when “iron sharpens iron” friction generates heat, sharp edges are honed, and sparks often fly. It was never intended as an easy process. As with metal, sometimes you have to hammer things out.

2. These verses provide some of Solomon’s wisest words of advice for men. I am particularly fond of the last line because accountability groups of three men make great sense and can work well.

“Two are better than one…For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up...if two lie down together they keep warm, but how can one be warm alone? And if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart. (Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12 NASB)

3. On numerous occasions in Scripture, Jesus and the Apostle Paul tell us we will give an account for our actions on the day of judgement. Here is one example from Jesus (Matthew 12: 46 ESV):

“I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak.”

This side of Heaven, why not get in the habit of being accountable to one another so we help each other become “sharper” images of Jesus—encouraging, exhorting, and speaking hard truth when necessary?

Let's close this lesson and 'Secret Sins' series offering three reasons men avoid accountability and ask three questions that just might save your life, marriage, relationship with kids, and job.

Three reasons men avoid accountability:

Too many men do not want to admit we have issues—especially “those” issues. Prideful men always think they can work themselves out of any situation or problem. Just ask the men in my Desperate Men small groups at the mission and prison! “Pride goes before a fall.”

While fear of failure may top the list of men’s fears, this one comes in second: fear of getting caught AND suffering the consequences. We prefer to hide our secret sins from men, hoping God is not paying attention or we slipped something past Him. Little boys and immature young men do that—not men of God.

Perhaps the opposite of pride or a subset, shame keeps men from owning and confessing sin. We are embarrassed to admit we struggle with things “real” Christian men should not. The truth is all men of God in the Bible also did. The Holy Spirit wrote their stories so we could learn from them.

Three questions that could save your life, marriage, relationship with your kids, and your job.

1. Who is holding you accountable? If the answer is “no one”, keep reading, but you might want to insert a cup in your boxer briefs before you do. This is serious business. Jesus did not mince words so neither will I in such an area of great need for men of His church. What is your excuse (and do not suggest time)? Pick one or more of the reasons above, and tell God you are doing fine on your own and working through your issues. You do not need other men in the process who may have more issues than you. Bad answer. Trust me, you should not walk alone.

2. What areas of your life are you allowing yourself to be held accountable? It is easy to allow ourselves to be held accountable for things we do not do or areas in which we do not struggle. Man up and allow the Holy Spirit to bring to mind those things that you do struggle with and open those doors. Here are three blank spaces for you to write down just a few to start the process.

_____________________ ________________________ _________________________

3. Are you willing to commit to the process? Be mindful that accountability groups can default to bull sessions and your own sports talk shows. Early in the process, there is nothing wrong with that. It takes time to build trust and convince other men you love them in the Lord—no matter what. But do not stop there.

As I said before, I have been in an AG with a pastor steeped in adultery and known several others who had similar issues. Drill down even if you occasionally hit rock. Remember it is a process, and we are not professional counselors, so these are not counseling sessions. The sooner you start, the sooner you will being to find peace in the process, more joy in your journey, and help another brother as well!

Committed to the Holy Spirit’s sharpening process—even when friction increases the heat or sparks fly,

Your desperate brother in Christ,

0 notes