Healing - Bucky x ChronicallyIll!Reader by SaRaH-lAyToN, literature
Literature
Healing - Bucky x ChronicallyIll!Reader
WARNING: Little bit of light swearing. Read with caution if that offends ya
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"He dumped you... cause he couldn't handle the illness?"
Nat looked at me as I flicked the cigarette ash into the ash-tray.
"Pretty much," I mumbled, taking another drawl, "he couldn't adapt to it, to the meds, the appointments, the pain and fatigue and he didn't want to become a career."
"What, a knob head." She sighed, taking a sip of wine.
We were sat on Tony's balcony, waiting for the pizza to arrive. After I had returned to the tower, red eyed and cheeks fresh with tears, Nat had dragged me to the balcony and told Tony to order Pizza in wh
Something passed by your hand, that felt rather silky smooth and soft. Grasping it, you pulled out the pink object and stared at the flower in your hand.
“A, rose?” you asked, confused.
“Oh-hon-hon! Ma belle, zhat is mine!” A man with shoulder length blonde hair and a strong accent stepped forward, taking the rose from your hands and placing it behind your ear.
“Oh lord,” England groaned as France took you from the Brit’s arms, cradling her in his own.
France glared at the country, before looking back down at you, face softening at your look up.
“Bonjour, ma petit pois. I am France, and you
Untitled - The Rambling Thoughts of Anxiety by SaRaH-lAyToN, literature
Literature
Untitled - The Rambling Thoughts of Anxiety
The Vodka burns in my throat, but the pain does not compare to the pressure upon my lungs and chest that I feel, and the sting from the dent in my pride.
The cigarette ash drops and smears my jeans, but not as much as the red stains my wrist.
The bruises on my arms are tender and afresh, but not as new as the tears that blur my vision as I stare at the floor and wonder “why must I fuck every thing up? Why must I be such a fuck up?”
Just as I thought I had escaped the hell hounds that had been chasing me, they pin me to the ground and rip at my neck, the demons that I had locked away bursting free and surrounding me, whispering in
Gabriel x Winchester!Reader - Monthly Problems by SaRaH-lAyToN, literature
Literature
Gabriel x Winchester!Reader - Monthly Problems
“Need any more Advil over there, [name]?”
“Please…”
You blearily looked up from where you were lying face down on the couch, a hot water bottle pressed against your aching stomach. Dean smiled, throwing the packet over, which you took two from; downing them down with [fav alcohol], true Winchester style.
It was at this point the door to the bunker opened, Sam coming down the stairs, holding a carrier bag.
“Beer for Dean, and sweet stuff for [name].” he said, taking the respective items out the bag and throwing them over to you.
You dived for the chocolate, demolishing it before realising halfway
A (Burnt) Scone - England by SaRaH-lAyToN, literature
Literature
A (Burnt) Scone - England
Something brushed past your hand, and you grasped at it, bringing it out.
“A scone?” Confused, but happy – boy, were you starving – you raised it to your mouth, before cries of despair were called.
“No, don’t eat that, duddette!”
“Zut alors, ma chere, do not eat zhat!”
“Stop frau!”
“Bella, no!”
“Shut up, all of you!” You looked to see England smiling down at you, “go on, love, you enjoy it.”
Grinning, you took a bite, chewing and then swallowing – granted, it was slightly crispy and a little burnt, but good none the less.
“
“Dad?”
Sherlock turned at the voice of his teenage daughter, looking at her as she stood in the doorway. Already, he could tell something was up – and he knew exactly what.
“What is his name?”
She blinked, but sighed.
“What gave me away?” she muttered, moving into the room to take a seat.
“For one, you have a subtle scent of a male’s cologne on you, that is not your own, nor mine nor your uncles or Johns. Second, you are clutching your mobile, the screen lit up, indicating you have just been texting – the name at the top has heart emoticons around it. Third, there is a scrap of paper
Ep. 1 - Layla Winchester by SaRaH-lAyToN, literature
Literature
Ep. 1 - Layla Winchester
“What are we going to do with her?” Dean asked, watching as the taller Winchester wandered round the room, gently rocking the small child as she slept, head resting upon his shoulder.
“I dunno, Dean, I don’t think there is much we can do.” Sam frowned, petting her hair.
“I don’t think we can keep her, it would be too dangerous – and what do we know about raising a kid?” Dean said, watching as Sam carefully laid her on a bed, tucking her under the covers.
“We don’t. But, we can’t leave her. We found her sitting there; her family dead around her, a demon also dead, and a