close up of blue brush teeth

No Time to Speak

Alright, so, yeah.

The’s one for @lunathewolfwarrior ; so like, buddy, hope u like it, I’m sorry for not killing Keith but I’m weak so yeah. 

The scenario is simple, kay? Based on the titanic’s scene so hey, there it is!

Contains: Hurt/Comfort, slight angst?, Klance, NO ONE DIES OK? Pre-relationship but they are close and mushy, idk man, I told u, there is no logic whatsoever. They were pining and now they are not!

*Twirls fringer* On to the fic already. Enjoy.

Lance puffs another breath and his mouth twitches upward when the faint warm smoke reminds him of ‘dragon breath’, as his nephew would call it.

His not-so-smile drops when another dragon breath comes and mingles with his own, this one fainter and weaker.

Lance’s eyes fall on Keith’s in an instant.

“K-Keith.” He calls quietly, jaw trembling and lower lip quivering along, “K-Keith, come on. It’s - It’s my turn.”

Keith huffs one more time before he shakes his head, shifting in the slightest on the edge of the wooden plank Lance’s laying on top of before tightening his grip on Lance’s hand.

“I’m – I’m okay.” Keith replies after a few seconds in silence, softly and small, “I’m okay, L-Lance.”

He’s not. Lance can see the way his jaw tenses, trying in vain to stop his teeth from clattering. His lips are blue, taking a shade of purple around the corners. His eyelids drop every few seconds, making Lance’s heart to skip a beat every time his eyes stay close for more than a two ticks.

Lance can see the way their intertwined hands shake but he doesn’t feel a thing.

He can’t feel his hand. He can’t feel Keith’s squeeze on his fingers as he tries uselessly to warm him up or the soft brush of Keith’s thumb on the top of his hand.

There’re no more shivers running down his spine, the icy temperature around them taking its hold on them and it doesn’t help that they are not able to get out of the freezing water, thermic suits damaged earlier  and no other way to provide warm but with each other’s bodies.

Lance whimpers quietly, staring helplessly at Keith’s lower body being hidden by the dark waters below them. He leans forward until his forehead bumps against the wooden plank’s surface before raising his eyes once again to meet Keith’s tired ones.

“Keith, pl-please.” Lance pleads, trying to catch the black haired man attention by moving their hands a little, “We - We agreed on switching places –  You can’t just – You need –”

“Hey.” Keith cuts off, gently and softly, “Your leg i-is still wo-wounded. We need it above the - the surface to -to avoid in- infection, ok-okay? We -We agreed on that.”

Lance shakes his head, eyes bright and desperate. “I-I didn’t – You  never said any -anything about you staying on - on the water, Ke - Keith.”

Half of their armor was gone, the thin black suit underneath barely doing any comfort to their cold bodies. Lance had demanded for both of them to be on the only available floating surface around them.

Keith had refused at first, saying that Lance’s leg needed more room and keep it from jolting it too much. The brunet was restless though, something that changed when they tried to balanced each other in the small plank and both of them ended up on the icy waters, aggravating even more Lance’s open wound.

Keith refused to try again, snapping angrily and in concern as he had pushed the brunet up on the plank, ignoring Lance’s complaints, and then he settle himself on the edge of the wood, upper body on the surface while he kicked his legs under water to keep himself afloat.

They haven’t moved since then.

Lance is not aware of how much time has passed; the seconds seem longer, even slower than ticks, and he can’t make his brain to function enough to make sure how long has Keith’s been under the water now. He can’t calculate the damage it will have on him, he doesn’t know how much longer he can survive like this.

“K-Keith.” Lance calls once more time, letting out a sigh when Keith snaps his eyes open at the calling, looking a little disoriented, “You can’t  keep – We don’t know how lo-long – You n-need to – We need to do some- something.”

Keith stays silent and Lance frowns.

“K-Keith –”

“It’s – It’s fine, L-Lance.” Keith reassurance and Lance’s heart aches at the trembling smile on his teammate’s lips, “My –My Galra blood keeps me wa-warm enough. You - You wouldn’t – It’s okay.”

Keep reading

13x01 coda. Gen.

It’s a long drive (a long, long drive) back to the bunker. Sam spends most of it answering Jack’s questions, half an eye on Dean in the front seat as his brother’s spine stiffens and his knuckles grow white. By some grace they make it home before Dean snaps, before he yells at the kid and Jack pulses angry and afraid and sends the car off the road (into a fireball, a ditch, a tree). Sam’s been visualising it for the last 500 miles and as they draw up outside the bunker the tension washes out of him so sudden that his knees almost buckle on the stairs.

Dean’s route is predictable: liquor cabinet, bed. He doesn’t turn around as he exits the library, doesn’t say anything. He won’t resurface for another few days.

Sam fixes Jack up with some packet mac and cheese, and a bedroom down the corridor from his own. He digs a towel out of the airing cupboard, explains the general concept of a shower, tries not to think too hard about the jeans and the t shirt he hands over for the kid to change into (blurry blue Sharpie on the inside collar, K TRAN).

“I’m going to bed,” he tells Jack, eventually. “Just knock if you need me, okay?”

The sleep training podcast Sam downloaded six years ago says that if you don’t sleep for fifteen minutes you’re supposed to get back up out of bed. It also says not to have any screens in the bedroom but Sam finds nature documentaries are one of the things that can help him calm down.

‘‘Who’s watching?” Netflix asks him. A blue face smiles lopsided, ‘Sam’. Next to it, a yellow penguin. ‘Castiel’.

Cas once spent two straight weeks watching Netflix in this room. Sam would get up, brush his teeth, go work out, research, and go to bed that night with the blue glow of the screen illuminating the both of them, Cas stretched out in his crumpled suit gazing intently at Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Friday Night Lights. Sometimes he’d wake Sam up to ask stupid questions, about the rules to American football or the mechanics of money laundering or what the fuck was going on in Lost.

Sam turns off the laptop, closes it carefully. He gets back into bed. 

No screens in the bedroom. It’s probably good advice, after all. Despite his exhaustion, he doesn’t fall asleep for another two hours.



Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: irl i look as innocent as bucky in this gif but in my mind there’s one thought: L U B E  I T  U P  C A P T A I N 

Also, happy valentine’s day

Words: 358

Prompt: Some questions don’t need to be asked.

Warnings: floof


Some questions are better left unasked because it’s often clear that you won’t always like the answer you’ll receive.

So you don’t ask and no one answers, the words left as fragments of deep thought trapped at the end of your tongue. They stay there, festering in your mind with boiling curiosity, waiting waiting waiting to be said.

Still, the question remains; unasked and unanswered.

But it still exists it’s corporeal form, there in the corner of your mind.

Do you love me, James?

Of course, the words never leave your lips and a reply never leaves his. But he’s not to blame, because he lives his life struggling with his own demons, too unaware of the storm that’s brewing within.

So, when you’re held close at night, hearing soft promises whispered but never reaching your ears, you don’t ask.

Not when he kisses you, pink lips pressing to your own with utter care and gentleness, calloused hands cupping your jaw, brushing stray strands of hair back into place. You don’t ask.

When he smiles at you, all crooked teeth and hidden jokes, innocent blue eyes shining with the sort of childish mischief that is so utterly and completely him, the one that always brings an unbidden smile to your lips, you don’t ask.

When he’s up at night, plagued by those very demons he flees from day after day, slipping under the covers by your side, reassuring himself that you’re real and you’re there. You don’t ask.

Or when he’s talking, hands moving almost comically as he tries to explain a story of his childhood, eyes glimmering with long-lost hope, you don’t ask.

When he’s got his hand in yours, thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand absent mindedly, you don’t ask.

When he’s got you trapped against the couch, head in your lap, refusing to let you move, smirk playing at his lips as your own amused eyes look down at him, you don’t ask.

When he’s looking at you like you’re his everything despite the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, you don’t ask.

Because, that’s the funny thing about some questions.

They don’t need to be asked.

But they’ll still be answered.

Yes, I love you.


Tags: @capsbuchanan @fvckingavengers @sincerelysaraahh @capshugsandbuckskisses  @after-avenging-hours@awkwardlilfanficwriter@imagine-assembling-the-avengers @feel-the-fanfiction@bovaria @just-call-me-mrs-captain @squishybucky @floating-balloon@matthewmurrdock@bbbarneswrites @buckysbackpackbuckle@writingsofawaywardnerd@totheendofthelinepal @re2d2 @the-real-tony-stank@wakandasoldier@actuallyasgardian  @buckysglow @mcuimxgine@marvelous-fvcks@lenavonschweetz@feelmyroarrrr@pleasecallmecaptain@lilasiannerd@avengerofyourheart @hellomissmabel @marvel-ash@ursulaismymiddlename@raes-utter-nonsense@punkpeqqy@hymnofthevalkyries @capdanrogers @candyrogers@redgillan@creideamhgradochas @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki@beccaanne814-blog@bxckyfxcknbxrnes @buckyslion@thenightmarebeforebucky @mrtinslydia@themcuhasruinedme@khaleesinarylfiel @lilasiannerd @defendors@buckyandsebsinbin@jurassicbarnes @imhereforbvcky @denialanderror @ourpeachskies @thejamesoldier @abovethesmokestacks  @serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes  @seventven @poe-also-bucky  @asirenscalling @romanovoff  @rogersxbarnesx 

No More Nose Kisses Until Your Nose is Healed; 1066 words
follow up to Magnets

When Isak wakes up this morning, his face feels like it got repeatedly rammed into a brick wall and his mouth tastes like crap pill coating.  Even isn’t in bed, but he can hear him moving around the flat despite the early hour.  Isak pouts tiredly to himself, needing his morning cuddle more than usual today.

Before he does anything else, though, Isak needs to brush his teeth.

He drags himself out of bed after a brief debate over whether or not it would be acceptable to wear their duvet like a cocoon.  It’s not, he decides.  He aches all over as he pads through to their little bathroom but the thought of his mouth no longer tasting like crappy drugs tides him over.

Isak was in no way prepared for his reflection.

The mirrored cupboard over their sink hides no sins, unfortunately.  Isak’s nose is even more swollen than it was last night, the look made even better by the fact that the skin was now a painful and mottled red beneath the steristrips.  There’s a little bit of crusted blood around his nostrils, which makes him think that maybe it bled more in his sleep.

Somehow his nose isn’t the worst part to look at.

That award goes to black bruises under his eyes.  Isak’s no stranger to dark rings under his eyes, but these are completely different. Bruises so dark blue they look black, smeared under his tired green eyes.

He looks like the bloody Winter Soldier.

Shaking his aching head, Isak goes back to the task at hand.  He tries not to look in the mirror while he brushes his teeth as vigorously as he can but it’s easier said than done when your face looks like bloody train wreck.  He ends up standing with his back to the sink just to avoid his reflection.

He spits and rinses and puts his toothbrush back in their holder, flinching slightly when he closes the cupboard and is confronted by his gruesome reflection.  Isak had never thought he was particularly vain; sure he likes to style his hair and he’ll make an effort with his clothes but he never thought he was vain.

He’s starting to reconsider that now knowing how much this facial injury is bothering him, even though he knows it won’t last more than a couple of weeks.

He leans closer to the mirror to inspect the damage, squinting critically.  He touches his nose gingerly and pain immediately rockets through him.

“Fuck!” He shouts in surprise, jerking back from the mirror as if it scolded him.  That’s how Even finds him: stood in the middle of their bathroom cupping his nose with a look of shock on his face.

Keep reading

Okay Google...

(This is one big post of all the asks surrounding the “Ok Google” story I wrote. It’s pretty long, though, so be warned. Hope you enjoy, cutie pies!)

“I’m not going to fund your self-indulgent endeavor to have your own show again if you don’t even have an idea for what the show would be about!” Google slams his hand on the desk, and Bim crosses his arms over his chest in a pout.

“We’ll come up with an idea once we convince Wilford. That’s the important thing.” Bim leans against the table. “Please, Google.”

The blue droid shakes his head. “Grow up, Trimmer. If you need your own show to inflate your ego, then maybe you should learn a few things from Wilford before you start dragging other people into this! I’ve got enough to deal with here without you constantly bugging me!”

“Ok, Google! Fine!” Bim storms out as the droid goes rigid, and he doesn’t notice that Google has gone completely still, awaiting a command.

Keep reading

The Greatest Gift Epilogue (Alexander x Reader)

Word Count: 2,584

Warnings: SMUT, swears

Authors Note: I don’t even have an excuse for this. I am so sorry. God bless.

Shout out to @adolescenthowell for being a babe and always helping me through my smut writing process :) check her out!

Requests: The greatest gift part 2?

Alexander dry humping PLEASE I AM SHOOK



You stood stirring two cups of hot cocoa, one for Isabelle and one for Alexander as you admired them from the kitchen as he was sat on the couch, Isabelle on his lap, watching the last minutes of Elf the movie. His hand was unconsciously stroking through her dark hair, and you could tell she was minutes from passing out.

“Here my babes.” you called as you made your way to the couch setting the mugs on the glass coffee table.

Keep reading

Beast (Pt. 2/3)

Request: Hey love! Can i get a Derek Hale smut where the reader and him are married and they have like kitchen smut which leads to table smut and bed smut and shower smut? THANKS

Character: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: Very smutty, Language, and SMUT!!!!

Part one

AU Note: I cannot thank all of you for how much support I am receiving on my writings/edits. All of my followers mean the absolute world to me and i would never trade this for anything. I love you all. Thank you for the support!!

His lips ravaged my core as I screamed, panting like a sinner in church. The stubble on his cheeks, scratched my thighs the sensation more than overwhelming. I pulled at his charcoal locks, pushing him further into my heat. His hands slithered up my shaking sides and landed on my sweaty breasts, his palms never letting go. I looked down seeing his eyes closed and mouth working non-stop and I broke, howling.

“Fuck baby get up here.” I smiled, my lips sealing around his in no time. He held my hips, our bodies maneuvering so that I was straddling. I gradually rubbed my clit against his tip, the contact making him bite my lip. I pulled back, watching as he tensed his eyes shimmering blue. Eyes  never leaving mine, I smacked hips with his, mouth hanging open. He sat upright, arms securing my back and lips brushing against my collarbone, his dick moving out slowly.

“You like that baby-girl?” He grunted teeth sinking into my right breast. I almost fainted it was too much. I pressed an answering kiss to his jaw our bodies going faster. He rammed into me, the sitting position making it hit perfectly. I gained enough courage to push him back, hips crushing into his. He arched up, clenching his teeth, veins protruding as he digged into my sides, his wolf nails coming out slightly. I cried out the emotion more than I could take. It only took a few more seconds before i was was busting around him, clenching as hard as I could.

“Cum daddy please, empty yourself into me.” I begged working my hips again, walls so sensitive it hurt. He latched onto my hips, pushing himself to be hovering over me as he pounded into me, the nickname giving him chills. He was ripping me apart with every stroke, my legs around him as he dug deeper, lips kissing my stomach. He was breathless as he spilled into me, fangs sinking into my lower abdomen. I was spinning by this time, body unable to handle so much pressure. He then pulled out, head still resting on my soft skin.

Stroking his hair, I tugged watching as he kissed his way up, eyes silently following mine. They still glowed as he nestled beneath me. No words needed to be exchanged as we watched, our connection speaking for us. His hands played patterns into my back as my lips kissed his pecks.

“You know, I don’t think I am completely done with you yet.” He spoke making the air shift. I peered at him, mouth slack as he laughed head dropping back onto the comforter.

“Jesus Der, do you need more reassurance?” I asked, body twisting. He looked back up, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he processed my words. Derek Hale what are you conjuring up now..?

“The only reassurance I need, is that pretty little mouth shrieking out my name as I show you just how beastly I can be.” He lowly huffed out, eyes growing dark again. I shivered my thighs clamping together, while his cock twitched.

“What did you have in mind…” I trailed, hands already lacing around his neck. He pecked my wrist, licking the saltiness away. I marveled in the feel my lips sucking a bruise into his caramel colored flesh. 

“I mean shower fucking seems like an option.” He shrugged watching as I took my lower lip in-between my teeth. I didn’t say anything as i leaped up off of him sprinting towards the bathroom. Challenge accepted.

Take a Little Time

So this a request that I’ve been meaning to fulfill for too long and I’m sorry it’s taken so long. @ambrosegirlforever messaged me a few months ago asking for this fic to be written and I started it, then walked away from it, then edited it, then started it again. Now here it is, and I really hope you enjoy it, love.

Summary: Reader gets wasted one night in a bar dealing with all the frustrating emotions that come from dating Finn Balor. Her loving boyfriend comes to her aid, then fluff and smut ensues.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, 
Word Count:3191

Tag List
@i-kneel-for-king-loki @straight-outta-the-asylum @ridingmoxley@paradoxical-opheliac @ambrosegirlforever @wrestlingnoob @m-a-t-91@livingthestrongstyle @lip-sync @princess3733 @nickysmum1909@ambrose-asylum-ft-mitch @shieldlovereve @jubaleelovehate@xstylesxclashx @the-geekgoddes @geekoftv @stardustmoonlightflower @lovelikelove @ashleyvc88 @cesaros-smile @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@alexispoo @artgurl559-blog @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues  @lgzeey

Keep reading

|Dylan Massett imagine|

“Norman! Dylan! Kitchen now please!” Norma shouted from downstairs. I stood besides her growing more and more nervous. “If you’re going to start working here you should meet my boys.” Norma smiled as she put an arm round my shoulder. Norma had offered me a job to work at the motel she just started because I haven’t got any money or a place to stay, my parents had kicked me out and Norma found me on the side of the road looking for a ride. She said I could have the spare room in her house but had to earn my keep by working at the motel which I was more than grateful for. 

I heard footsteps down the stairs and then two boys appeared into the kitchen. One with brown hair and wore sort of ‘smart’ clothes and looked intelligent. The other boy had messy dirty blonde hair and more casual outfit, he was the one who caught my eye. He was gorgeous. His bright blue eyes met my green ones and he smiled at me. 

“Norman, Dylan. This is Y/N. Shes going to be staying with us and helping with the motel for a while.” Norma introduced us. I shook hands with Norman and then Dylan. “Nice to meet you both.” I smiled at both of them, “You too Y/N. It’ll be good to have someone new round here.” Norman said. Dylan just nodded and winked at me which made me blush. “Right, Dylan show Y/N to her room, its the one opposite yours. I’ll start dinner, Norman can help me.” Norma said. 

I went to grab my suitcase until a hand grabbed mine gently. “I got it.” Dylan said looking at me smiling. I nodded him and said “thank you”. Dylan was walking up the stairs with me following him as he lead me to the spare room. Dylan opened the bedroom door and put down my suitcase. “Thank you, Dylan.” I said looking at him, Dylan nodded and half smiled at me before closing my door. 

~After dinner~ 

I went upstairs and got changed for bed, I just had on a black vest top and my black laced panties. Assuming everyone was asleep, I went out of the spare room and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth, when I got there the bathroom door opened and a shocked Dylan stepped out. I stood there frozen as his blue eyes quickly flickered up and down my body. “Wow.” I heard him softly mumble under his breath.

“I um … sorry I just needed to use the bathroom.” I stuttered becoming more flustered. Dylan nodded frantically and headed to his bedroom, he stood at the doorway. “You er … look beautiful.” He said, his eyebrows knotted together; confused by why he had said that himself. I blushed as I watched him quickly go into his bedroom.


A few weeks had passed since Dylan had told me I looked beautiful and he hadn’t said a word to me after that, he’d been completely ignoring me even when I tried to speak to him, hes just been watching me like hes in deep thought when he stares at me.

 I got changed into black skinny jeans, a black vest top and my leather jacket whilst slipping on my converse. I grabbed my car keys and headed out, Norma wanted to me go and pick up some new bed sheets. I saw Dylan sitting down outside a motel room smoking a cigarette, he looked over at me and I smiled softly at him in which he didn’t return. 

I bit the inside of my cheek starting to wonder what I had done wrong. I got into the car and started it up heading into town. It was driving me crazy not speaking to Dylan, he made my days better. 

 I got back late that night and parked my car in the usual spot. Dylan had been on my mind the whole day and I made the decision to finally confront him about what I had done wrong. Dylan was in the same spot where he was when Ieft still smoking. “Dylan can I talk to you please?” I said approaching him. “What have I done wrong? you haven’t spoken to me for weeks!.” I said raising my voice slightly becoming aggravated. He didn’t answer me, didn’t even look up.

 I sighed and started to walk away until he finally spoke up. “I meant what I said when I called you beautiful Y/N.”  He confessed standing up and walking over to me. I turned around and looked at him confused. “Wait but wh-” I was cut off by Dylan’s lips crashing down onto mine, his rough but soft lips battling against my own.

“You’re different, you make me scared, nervous, excited and happy all at the same time. No ones ever made me feel like that and I barely know you.” He whispered. “Why have you been ignoring me though?” I asked looking into his blue eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I put mine round his neck, “I was scared in case I was falling in love…but I don’t care anymore.” Dylan said pecking my lips again, I smiled at him completely confused but happy. “Wow the ‘badass’ Dylan Massett falling in love?” I mocked my voice dripping in sarcasm. 

Dylan laughed and kissed my forehead. “Lets take this to my room.” Dylan smirked nudging me forward. Okay so maybe i was developing a massive crush on Dylan now. 

“Nice Surprise right”  Requested

Originally posted by theeskyisthelimit


Ask Anything: {Here}

Request: {Here}

By: @fandomnationwhore

Damon Salvatore crosses over to Son’s or Anarchy

Damon Salvatore x reader

Driving down the road with no specific destination was tiring sighing leaning your head against the window glancing down at the dashboard seeing you were literally running on fumes. Groaning you saw lights up ahead thanking Zeus and the dinosaurs you pulled in seeing no one there besides the cashier. Sluggishly getting out of your car grabbing your wallet on the way out walking inside sending him a quick smile you moved towards the munchie section which really honestly was the best part of stopping at stores.

After grabbing as many things you can fit in your arms walking towards the counter casually looking over more sweets once I got to the counter I dumped all my munchies. I heard the rumble of a motorcycle debating to look over your curiosity got the best of you finally turning your head peering outside you saw a blonde guy speed walking into the store quickly making his way to the restrooms.

Keep reading

Hog the Covers

Read on AO3


This was written a long time ago and I’m not re-reading it before I post it, so good luck.

Isak hogs the covers.

He claims it’s because he’s spent all his life sleeping alone, but Even doesn’t understand that argument because, up until Isak, he usually slept alone too.

Even from the first day they shared a bed, Isak hogged the blankets, and continues to do it to this very day. It didn’t matter if it was in the Kollektivet, Even’s parents’ house, or their own apartment. It always ends up happening.

And Even has had enough of it.

He does find it cute on some level, because he wakes up to Isak burrowed tight into a cocoon of blankets, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t freeze his ass of. Every. Single. Night.

Even has brought it up on multiple occasions, from making casual teasing jokes to “Seriously. I have to have some warmth. You don’t want me dying of hypothermia in my sleep”. But every time, no matter what the occasion, Isak brushes it off like a joke, or just as teasingly denies he does it.

Even has tried everything. He’s let Isak take all the covers and then pulled out a new blanket just for himself. Miraculously, in the morning, it’s added to the pile of blue and brown bedding that’s burrito-ed around the younger boy in the morning.

He’s tried lying half on top of the covers so that Isak doesn’t even have enough to grasp onto when he rolls over, but somehow, he almost consciously keeps tugging the blankets until they break free and envelop him in a pocket of warmth.

He’s bought them a new blanket, one that’s bigger then their whole bed. He figures that even if it makes its way over to Isak’s duvet castle, some of it will hang off enough that he can climb underneath it. But that didn’t work either. The blanket still manages to get itself wrapped around Isak twice over.

He’s even considered pulling a Malcolm in the Middle and sewing his t - shirt to the duvet.

Even can’t live like this any longer.

So, naturally, being the King of Extra, Even plans a stakeout.

He goes through the normal bedtime routine. They strip to their underwear, Even leaving his white cotton t-shirt on, they brush their teeth together, and climb under the covers. Isak lies on his stomach with his head facing Even. Even lies on his side, and soon enough, Isak drifts off into a peaceful sleep. Even, on the other hand, has only closed his eyes for a few minutes. When he is sure Isak is asleep, he reaches over onto their dresser and grabs the little pad of paper and pen, sketching to keep his mind occupied for a while.

He’s filled up a few small square pages with random doodles when inevitably, Isak rolls over, yanking the blue and brown striped bedspread with him. Even glances at the clock: 1:21. He scribbles the time stamp in the margins of his doodle paper for safe keeping. Then, not being too worried about waking Isak up (because let’s be honest, that kid sleeps like a rock), Even returns the paper to it’s place on the nightstand, flopping back down somewhat violently onto their mattress. He grabs the extra blanket he hid under the bed in preparation and snuggles into it, knowing fully that it will end up on Isak’s side of the bed in the morning, but not really giving a fuck either way. It only takes about 5 minutes for him to fall asleep.

The next morning, things go normally. Isak wakes up while Even is padding around in the kitchen making eggs. They greet each other with a “halla” and a quick peck to the lips. Isak knows there’s something different with Even today. They’ve been together long enough now that Isak notices the slight bags under his eyes, and he can recognize all the little idiosyncrasies Even has when something’s wrong. And while it doesn’t necessarily seem like there is anything wrong, Isak knows he’s up to something.

The next night Even does the same things, just to be sure the times are consistent. That night, Isak rolls over at 1:36.

The third night, things go more or less the same. Isak falls asleep and Even kinda pretends to be. But tonight, Even has his phone in hand instead of pen and paper. He swipes the brightness all the way down, keeping an eye on the time as he scrolls through Pinterest looking for more DIY projects for the apartment.

It’s around 1:15 that he sits up a little, closing Pinterest and opening a new app in place: Snapchat.

He only downloaded it about a month ago. Or rather, Magnus took his phone and downloaded it one Friday when he was too tipsy to really think much of it. Because Magnus was the one who set it up for him, the only people he had as friends were the Boy Squad, Girl Squad, Balloon Squad, and Kollektivet and friends (plus his mom, because she’s woke af). He didn’t use it that much. If he was bored he’d check to see what everyone was up to.

Anyway, the point is that he only used it occasionally to talk to people one on one, and he never posted anything on his story. So, it’s 1:15 and he has Snapchat open and night mode on, ready to catch the blanket hog in action. He sits there until 1:29 when Isak does roll over, and holds his thumb over the bubble at the bottom of the screen and waits for the red circle to close as Isak tosses and wraps all the covers and the whole duvet around himself. Even lets the video time out to ten seconds, puts a filter on it to make it a little brighter, and saves it to his memories.

The next morning as Isak rolls out of bed and is getting ready for school, he hears Even address him from the next room over.

“You know, you stole all the covers again last night.” Isak snaps his head over to he direction of the kitchen from where he is at the table.

“Nei, I did not.” He replies, his voice laced with childishness. Even returns from the kitchen with his tea mug in hand and sits down across from him.

“Ja, you did. You do every night. I freeze to death every morning, and you don’t even care. You need to do something about it”, Even says kind of smugly, raising his eyebrows as he sips his tea.

Whatever”, Isak says in English while narrowing his eyes. “You’re just sensitive”, he adds mockingly.

“You are aware that you have all the sheets wrapped around you when you wake up, right?” Even already knows he’s won this argument.

“I- but- that’s just- whatever”, Isak sputters lamely.

Even nods in a way that seems like he just confirmed plans with a friend. Now Isak knows he’s up to something.

Later that day, Isak, Even, and the rest of the Boy Squad are sitting around the courtyard chatting and eating lunch.

Jonas is retelling some anecdote about something embarrassing that happened to Magnus at a party on Saturday, Madhi occasionally interjecting a noise or a line to add the dramatic retelling. Magnus, meanwhile, sits by with a slowly reddening face as he sprinkles weak little “I did not”s and “That’s not how it happened”s through the story.

Eventually the whole conversation spirals into The Best and Worst of Magnus anecdotes, which then get weaved into The Best and Worst of Isak anecdotes, because Isak is the boy’s second choice of who to make fun of, Magnus claiming first of course. Jonas is currently reliving a story in which a girl in their elementary school class had a crush on Isak. Apparently, one day she tried to kiss him in the schoolyard, and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he just kicked her in the shin and walked away. All the boys thought this was extremely comical, Magnus in particular, who unnecessarily points out, “It’s funny ‘cause now he’s with a boy now!” Even finds this whole story pretty hilarious and will definitely tease him endlessly about it later, but he has more pressing matters to attend to right now.

“Have I told you guys about Isak hogging all the blankets during the night?” Isak is immediately rolling his eyes, shaking his head, and saying, “Not this again, Even. You’re so dramatic.” All the boys turn to Even, Magnus’ mouth hanging open slightly, all of them silently asking are you gonna do anything about this?

Even just gives a little shrug and drops it. Its okay, because he has a plan for later.

Later that evening, Isak is lying on their bed scrolling through his phone while Even sits at the table, sketching. Isak liked Vilde’s latest post on Instagram, had scrolled through Facebook already, and was now checking Snapchat. Jonas posted a video of himself trying to film while skating, and ended up almost face planting. Eva posted a cute selfie of her and Penetrator Chris, Vilde posted a video of Chris talking about something weird and probably out of context, and Even posted- wait. Was he seeing this right? Even Even? Like, the Even he was dating that refused to post anything ever on his story Even? He clicks on Even’s name.

Over the top of his sketchbook Even sees Isak jolt upright right before screeching an ear piercing, “EVEN! HVA FAEN!? HOW COULD YOU!?” Isak doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s springing up and crossing the room to Even, who is currently tipped back in his chair resting on its back legs and laughing his ass off.

“GIVE ME YOUR PHONE”, Isak demands, and Even hands it over with a few more dissipating giggles. Isak opens the Snapchat app, pressing the three little dots on the right of the screen next to the My Story banner.  He scrolls down and presses on the video captioned “I told you, gutta”.Upon reading who all has viewed the video (Jonas, Yousef, Madhi, Mamma <3, Mikael, Adam, Noora, Magnus, Elias, Eva, Sana, Mutta, Eskild, Linn, Vilde, and Chris. So basically, everyone that mattered), Isak lets loose another sting of profanities while slamming his fists into Even’s chest and whining at the loudest possible decibel. Even is back to shaking with booming laughter while weakly trying to calm Isak down.

Needless to say, Isak will definitely get him back for this.


I don’t know if I want to continue these. We’ll see.

The Tyke

Pairing: past Daryl x Reader
Word count: 1,458
Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating

Scooping the smiling little boy from his car seat, your breath caught in your throat. He was four, and the way his blue eyes were every bit his father never stopped amazing you. He’d look up at you and memories would come at you like a tidal wave. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up for dinner.” You said, setting him on the sidewalk next to you.

The small boy knelt down, driving his toy car in circles as you grabbed the few bags from the trunk. “You need some help, ma’am?” Came a voice from behind you that made you freeze.

“Mommy, is rude ta inore!” Came the sweet voice of your son, making your eyes dart to him before turning to come face to face with Merle Dixon.

You’d never liked Merle, and he’d always made you uneasy. Years away hadn’t changed that one bit. “Well, well, well.” He smirked, a twinkle in his eye that made you taste bile. “If it isn’t little miss Y/N.”

“No, I don’t need help, Merle.” You told him, refusing to back down.

“Ain’tchya gon’ introduce me ta the tyke?” He asked, moving more towards him. “Hey, there, buddy.”

You were shaking slightly as you slammed your trunk shut, everything in your arms. “Come on, Finn.” You told your son firmly. “Say goodbye to Mr. Merle.” You hated the man with a passion, but you were trying to raise Finn right. There was no way you’d be blurting out that they shared a last name.

“Bye, Mr. Merle!” Finn’s eyes lit up as he waved.

Merle raised an eyebrow at you, but looked back to Finn. “See ya round, Finn. Nice meetin’ ya.” He stood up, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly walked by. “I’ll be seein’ ya.” It sounded almost like a threat to you.

Keep reading

Behind The Bars (Chapter 1)

Night in the Woods - Shelter AU

Fandom: Night in the Woods

Characters: Mae Borowski, Bea Santello, Greggory Lee, Angus Delaney, Casey Hartley (Mentioned), Selma Ann “Selmers” Forrester, Jeremy “Germ” Warton 

Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort/Mystery 

Rating: T

Warnings: Abuse, Character Death(s), Usage of Drugs

Word Count: 2293 Words

Disclaimer: I don’t own Night in the Woods nor the characters. 

Summary: Mae Borowski was Possum Springs’ troublesome stray until an animal shelter caught her. Adopted and returned countless of times, the shelter decided to put her down… until Bea Santello decided to step in.   

Author’s Note: First story for the NITW fandom and an AU too so, I’m sorry if it’s not good. This story is inspired by my cat, Julius who is now a huge lazy furbaby. Credit to Fuzzinator23 for proof reading this story. 

Chapter 1 - The Storm

A loud yowl pierced through the night and rain. Heavy footsteps chase after smaller ones, splashes of water drowns into the rain as if god doesn’t want anyone to know what happens.

Another yowl comes through; angry, agonizing, desperate. Aluminium cans falls over as a small figure runs out of one of the cans. The figure is cornered, trapped between a huge wall and two shadows looms over it.

A net is thrown. Yowls and hisses follows as it struggles. One of the larger figure approaches and scoops it up, “No more running for you, kitten,” a low growl comes through.

The cat in the net stops struggling, probably due to exhaustion or fear. Storm still brewing the town. The cat shivers and curls up, letting out soft mews. The net is slung over a shoulder and is taken into a van.

Damp, cold, dark, all the words runs inside her head. Her body shudders, her fur is wet and the floor is cold. She wouldn’t be surprised if she ever ends up sick.

Back to the prison. Cold, dark prison.

She doesn’t want to go back there again.


The smell of morning after the rain had passed is refreshing, calming you could say. The soft light of the sun rises from the horizon, a perfect time to take in some fresh air outside and say hello to the neighbors.

…or stay in bed in the weekends.

Which is something Bea Santello would gladly do.

As she lays in bed in a tank top & shorts and blankets over her body, due to how cold last night has been, she regretted to not wear long pants & a shirt with sleeves but she could care less.

Except the fact her clock has been buzzing for a while now.

A claw extends and knocks it off the nightstand. At least the sound of the impact startles her enough to elicit a groan from the woman and forces her to move to the edge of the bed. Opening an eye halfway, she glances down.

9:45 AM.

Shit. Overslept again.

She picks up the digital clock and places it back on the nightstand before getting up. The gator yawns as she stretches herself and gets herself into the bathroom. Taking a quick hot shower and brushes her teeth, Beatrice gets herself ready for the day.

The store ain’t gonna open by itself. Ugh.

Even on weekends like this, she must open the store.

She puts on her signature black dress and hangs an ankh necklace around her neck. She looks at herself in the dresser mirror. If she looks closely, she could see the bags under her half-opened eyes. As if her dull blue eyes aren’t enough to tell how tired she has been.

There’s no use complaining about it now. She has done this for years. So, she sighs. Last night’s coffee would be good enough to provide the energy for the day.

For the day.

She still needs energy for night as well.

Chugging down a jug of coffee sounds like a good idea. Well, she was fixing to do that when she got to the kitchen, if only she didn’t glance at the clock.

9:58 AM.

Ah, shit.

But she still chugged down the coffee like how she wanted to.

She grabs a box of cigarettes and lighter from the counter and heads for the door. Hastily puts on her boots, she puts a cigarette in between her lips and lights it up, inhaling some of the nicotine from it.

It doesn’t really go well with caffeine.

Screw it.

Might as well, the horrible taste will keep her awake enough to go through the day.


Like any days in autumn, it is a very long day.

Well, for Bea at least.

Everything in her life IS very long day.

Puffing out smoke, the smell of nicotine engulfs her and fills up her nostrils. It might have reached her brain and slowly killing her.

Eh, she wouldn’t mind being dead. So long she didn’t have to stand behind the register and check stocks in the store.

Ol’ Pickaxe has been standing for as long she could remember. She basically runs the store now, considering her father wouldn’t bother handling it himself. The tip of her tail taps on the floor to fill the silence in the empty hardware store.

She sits on a stool at the side and grabs a pamphlet from the counter. Might as well read while waiting for anyone to walk in. But the paper has been the same; all about the dead mines Possum Springs had once long time ago.

Possum Springs; a middle-of-nowhere-and-dying town. A hole which she would gladly leave, if it weren’t for the fact that her father needs help from his only daughter. Stays on the couch, watching tv, drink or sleeps are the things he has done. .

Ever since her mother died.

Of cancer.

Which she really doesn’t like talking about.

Or bother thinking about it.

So, her dad shuts down and, like it or not, she has to stay and help him recover; starting by taking over the shop.

Which is what some people would say.


Bea sighs as the cigarette in her mouth has shorten. She takes it out and stamps it into the ashtray nearby, before taking out another cigarette from her dress pocket and lights it up as she places it against her lips.

Sucking in the smoke, she sighs heavily. Her shoulders slumps, the taste of unsweetened coffee still lingers in her mouth.

It’s disgusting.

Eh, works for me, she thought.

The sound of the bell from the door rings. She looks up, seeing a familiar bear tipping his hat as he approaches her. “Good morning, Bea,” Angus says.

“Hey, Angus,” she says. Angus places his hat back on his head and his ears perks up.

“You look worse for wear. Is something the matter?”

“Stayed up late. Overslept. Drank a lot of coffee this morning and wish that I could die right now.”

“You do realize smoking and coffee are bad together, yes?”

Bea shrugs. “Eh, so long as it keeps me awake. And I smoke to release my stress… which is all the time, mind you,” she says, squinting her eyes at him.

The man sighs and adjusts his glasses, “Then why not take up my offer, will you?” he says.

The gator is silent for a moment and Angus patiently waits for an answer.

But she already raises her hands. “I will not have a pet, Angus. I have enough things in my hands and I do not need a pet. I’ve been doing fine for quite a while now,” she protests.

It isn’t the first-time Angus suggested it. He has been telling her to get a pet, said it will help her to release her stress much effectively and they can be a good friend to her.

But also, there will be more mouths to feed.

As if her father isn’t enough to look after for.

She turned them down so far, but the more she did, the more frequent Angus brings it up to pique her interest.

Angus sighs once again. “Well, if you already decided that then. But could I ask a favor from you then?”

“Uh… sure, I guess. What is it?”

“Come with me to the shelter.”

Bea stares, trying to process what he just said, “…what?”

“Come with me to the shelter,” he repeats. Her blue eyes squint at him again as if trying to eat him whole.

“Angus, I told you-…”

“I’m getting a pet for myself, Bea. And the shelter is at the other side of town, so I need a ride from you.”

She was going to say something about it but she decided not to. She had seen the shelter once when she went there to deliver the tools they ordered. It is pretty far from where she lives and if it isn’t for Angus’ asthma, she would’ve turn it down.

Plus, she’s driving.

She can get out of work early since she’s the only one in the store today, like always.

So, she agrees.

She’s not the one that’s adopting… right?


Cold. It was literally cold when she steps inside the shelter. The inside, unusually, looked no different from a medical center and the air conditioner’s air is so strong she could’ve died from freezing to death here. It was white, excluding some plants, toys and magazines on the coffee table.

This place reminds her of the hospital.

She hates it.

Angus goes up to the reception while Bea decides to stay in the lobby to read the magazines as she waits. He’s led to the back by the receptionist, who is a goat. Already, she’s bored after leafing through few pages of the magazine in her hand. She closes it and was fixing to light up a cigarette, but the shelter has a strictly “No smoking” policy.


So, her tail taps on the floor impatiently. She looks around, trying to take in the interior and sighs. She really hopes Angus would be quick because she’s bored to death.

Which is not, the kind of death she wanted.

Eh, whatever.

Still, she looks around and her eyes settles on a cage. An obvious black cage amongst the whiteness of the walls and floor. There’s was someone, or something in the cage curling up.

Is it one of the pets? Did it just get here?

She gets up and approaches, kneeling next to the little cage. Whatever’s inside is shielded by a cloth so she pulls it off. A cat. A small, navy blue cat wearing a brown and red shirt and black pants. The tip of the hair is red along with it’s tail, which wraps around it nicely.

And covered it’s face.

Bea makes sure no one’s around before she gently pokes the cat with her claw. The ears twitch and she immediately pulls away, slightly shaking the cage when her claws hit the bars. The ears perk up; she could see the right ear was notched, making it look like a bite mark.

The cat yawns and stretches itself as much as it could. It opens it’s eyes, which are larger than any normal cats she has seen in the neighborhood. Red eyes, brighter than Bea’s, blink several times before they stare at the young gator.

“Can I help you, miss?” A gruff voice greets from behind. She turns to see a bear, much older than Angus. She could see the faint wrinkles on his face and a name tag on his shirt written; Hank, dressed in all white, so she assumed he’s the vet. She scratches the back of her head.

“Just… checking this little fella here,” she says.

“Oh… I’m sorry, but she’s not up for adoption anymore.”

This pique her curiosity a bit. She looks up to the older bear. “What do you mean by that?”

Doctor Hank lets out a heavy sigh. He seems reluctant. Bea was about to say something but the man cuts her off, “She had to be put down,” he says with a low voice.

Those words… ‘put down’, are poison to her ears. Irritating, hurt. Her usually tired, dull blue eyes widens in shock. She glances at the cat in the cage who now tries to stand, but she couldn’t due to how small the space she’s in. But she stares, beaming at her.

“Is… she sick?” Because that’s the only reason a doctor would be putting down someone. Sickness, a terrible sickness that has no cure.

Like cancer.

Like her mother.

Shit, why the hell does she have to remember that?

“It’s more to her behavior. She’s… too violent, even to other pets in this shelter. It’s one of the reasons why she’s inside the cage instead at the back with the rest.”

Behavior? Violent? Is that why they want her dead?

“She’s that bad?” Bea asks, her tone hardened without she realizes.

Doctor Hank notices that and sighs, “She has been adopted four times this month and returned in the same day. The longest she’s ever been with a foster family is a whole day. But the next day she was returned. And the complaints are the same; stealing food, bullying others and vandalizing homes,” he explains.

Those things should have be enough to convince Beatrice to not adopt a pet. But she kept glancing at the cat, who now approaches the bars and reached one of her paws to her. Bea doesn’t move, not even when the cat grabs one of her claws.

Curious like a child, she thought. She has seen other pets who are a lot larger than her, even other cats in the neighborhood. She looks innocent enough to not cause all that.

Well, maybe she would but it couldn’t have been on purpose.


“What’s her name?” Bea asks.


“Her name. What is it?”

“Mae Borowski. 20. But too small despite her age. Probably a disease regarding to her growth.”

Dwarfism, she thought. That could be it. Maybe. She’s not very keen with all those medical terms. She looks at Mae for a moment and, unexpectedly, she opens the cage. Doctor Hank tries to stop her, but he stood at the side when Bea holds up her hand.

Mae crawls, no, rolls out of the cage like a ball and sits up to look at Bea. The gator gently pets her, her fur is oily and sticky. She feels slightly upset by how Mae was treated, even though Hank said she will be put down.

Poison. Those words are poison.

Behaviors can be fixed.

She can be fixed.

Bea looks back at the man. “I’m adopting her.“

Guard Duty (Part Two)

Part One

Summary: Loki drabble series… I hope. Your the best guard for Loki, he likes you, you like him, but neither is saying it, and Thor is meddling.. trying to get things happening, seeing how his brother reacts to you, the first girl who got under Loki Laufeyson skin instead of him under yours.

Warnings: Language and Smutty Smut… Like there is a plot.. if you Squint? LMAO! It’s straight up porn guys.

Suggestion: Listen to Halsey - I Walk The Line, it’s where my inspiration came from.

Keep reading

Be More Furry

Fandom: Be More Chill (musical)

Word count: FUckin too many

TW: furries, trash, too much cringe, my personal self hatred is infused in this fic,not proofread/ edited,

Part 1 (of unfortunately more than 1)

AU where everything’s the same except Jeremy wears a tail the whole time (and I also add in awful furry-based pun changes to the story.)

@yo-homeslice this is for you my dude

Jeremy was enjoying his usual morning routine of attempting to jack it to constantly buffering videos of girls dressed up as cats when his alarm went off. He ran a hand down his face and got up. His next predictable action was to brush his teeth and get dressed, his outfit was easy to pick out, of course. It was simple, nerdy, and the same as always. The one part of the morning that stressed him out was deciding which tail to wear for the day. Should he wear the blue? The green? The red one his best friend had gotten him for Christmas as a joke? He eventually grabbed a basic gray one that he had had for years, the first one he had ever bought. He was very close to this tail, it reminded him of a big fluffy wolf, and he had accordingly named it wolfy. He had, of course, later come to terms with the fact that he much prefered dolphins, but this one kept a special place in his heart. He attached it to his back belt loop and topped it off with a cardigan.

He opted to take the bus instead of walk to school. He was clearly out of shape and he didn’t want to sweat on his precious furry appendage. The bus ride was long and boring, but at least no one bothered him on the bus. He thought about Christine, and being cool, but quickly dismissed the thoughts when he walked into the school. He tried to ignore everything around him and walk as fast as he could to his first class, but was instead pushed into a locker by a short guy who was way cooler than him.

“Hey tail-ass! Don’t fucking move.” Jeremy, always the pushover, quietly allowed the small boy to do-something- to his backpack. He left with some remark about his dick and Jeremy went to his class that he shared with Christine Canigula, the most beautiful, sweet girl he had ever met.  He pictured her as a kitty cat, probably a calico, that would be pretty-

“Uhm, hey, uh…” Christine seemed to think hard. “…Jeremy? Someone wrote fur on you backpack?”

Jeremy stumbled over his words. He had just be acknowledged by his long time crush. Before he could get a real word out, the bell rang. Today was going to be another long day.

A/N: I’m ending this there because I can’t deal with anymore of this right now. Tell me if you want more (I’ll do it because I love you and also because I hate myself).  Also please request anything else you want me to write because I’ll do it no matter how awful you think it is. Anyway thanks for reading this trash.

anonymous asked:

Anti and mint blue~

Getting out of bed to get ready for the day seemed to get harder every day. Not just with the weather getting cooler, and your sleep getting better. But Anti’s frequent sleepovers weren’t helping things.

He was just so freaking comfortable to cuddle into first thing in the morning. 

You lamented that comfort and warmth as you sleepily brushed your teeth. With your eyes closed you didn’t see Anti stumble into the bathroom behind you. Noticing you weren’t paying attention he decided a little fun might wake you up.

He reached around and snagged the toothpaste. He squeezed out the smallest bit on his finger, and with speed and precision he dabbed it on your nose and dashed back out of the bathroom. 

The rustle of air and sudden intense smell of mint got your attention. Opening your eyes you startled at seeing the spot of mint blue on your nose. You heard some giggles from the bedroom and rolled your eyes. 

Why? (Part 2)

By: ProMarvelFanGirl

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references of drinking (don’t self medicate with the booze kids)

Summary: Reader gets drunk and confesses her feelings.

A/n: now for the fluff 


“You comin?” Sam turned looking at Steve who hadn’t moved.  Steve nodded but stopped when he saw you stir.  Leaning down to stroke your cheek gently, he stood and turned to walk out of your room.  He was almost to the door when he heard you mumble, “Why doesn’t Steve like me back?”

Steve froze, you liked him back?   He was the one causing you this pain?  He looked at Sam who was just as stunned but was allowing a small smile to creep on his face. “What’d ya gonna do Cap?”

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and awful taste in your mouth.  Realizing quickly you were in your bathroom on the floor, you stood kicking off your shoes.  Brushing your teeth, you tried to replay the events from the night before in your head.  You remembered drinking. Lots of drinking.   Sam, he picked you up.   You were home and thank God no one else saw you as sloppy as you were last night.  You suddenly get a flashback of spilling your guts to Sam.  

You go to your bedroom door and lock it.  Maybe if you stayed in your room you wouldn’t have to talk to Sam.  You wouldn’t have to explain yourself that would be easier.   You were mortified,  you don’t know why you let yourself get to this point.  You were in love with someone who didn’t even realized there was anything more than friendship between the two of you. You get some water and go lay on your bed.   You would just stay in your room where you were safe.  Where you wouldn’t have to face reality.

A few hours later, repetitive knocking woke you from your sleep, “Go away Sam, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Y/n it isn’t Sam.  It’s Steve. I want to talk to you. If I can?”  You groan into your pillow.  You asked any higher powers out there, to please not have let Sam tell Steve.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

steve's unnaturally quiet when he and sam hit the road again. sam's beat up and tired, but he knows steve's silences enough to ask about it, make a crack about the raft, ignoring how tight his voice gets. but steve turns his serious blue eyes on sam and says, "you thought i wasn't going to save you," and sam's teeth click together as his mouth closes. "sam--" and steve looks absolutely pained, "sam, you thought--" and sam can't hear his fears reflected back to him, tries to brush it off...

“aww c'mon steve, not used to having heroes come and save me–” “sam, sam–” steve’s eyes are watery and he looks like sam has just slapped him. “steve–you gotta know i trust you. but i… i’m realistic,” and steve’s face clouds before he grabs sam’s hand and says with utmost sincerity, “i love you, sam. i love you–how could you ever think that i would leave you? i could never–” and sam kisses him to shut him up.


Playing Cupid - One-shot (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by your-kylie-me

Originally posted by s-o-far-a-w-a-y

Summary: For the past year Y/N has been playing cupid and made it her mission to find Steve the perfect girlfriend, except she doesn’t know that the reason none of the dates have worked out is because Steve already has his eyes set for someone else. 

A/N: I’ve been playing around with this one for while now, and finally figured I’d post it. Don’t forget that I am taking requests again, so don’t be afraid to send them in.

“Hey Steve, how did the date go,” I grin as I watch him walk into the living area of the compound.

“It was okay,” he says dropping his jacket on the sofa before moving to the kitchen where he pulls out a beer.

“What was wrong with this one,” I sigh standing up from the sofa and walking to stand across from him. “I really thought you would like her.”

“She was great, Y/N,” Steve smiles. “I had a nice evening with her. I just, I don’t know,” he shakes his head before bringing the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long drink.

“Steve there are only so many people I can think of setting you up with who work for SHEILD that I think you would like. Between Nat and I, I still can’t believe we haven’t found someone you like.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” Steve sighs setting down the bottle on the counter next to him, “They have all been very nice and I have had a good time with all of them, I guess I just haven’t been able to see myself with any of them in a real relationship that was more than friendship.”

“Well you my friend, are very picky,” I frown jabbing my finger at his hard chest.

“I guess I just know what I want,” he smiles wrapping his hand around my finger. “You can’t blame me for wanting to be happy.”

I stick my tongue out at him and pull my finger out of his grip. “I will find someone who will do just that,” I tell him taking a step back and begin to walk away. “You mark my words Rogers. I will make this my mission if I have to.”

Steve’s laughter filled the room behind me as I made my way to the garage.

Keep reading