her smile in the bottom left

The Guest House

Originally posted by beui


Description: Yoongi the hostel owner slowly develops a rapport with a girl and her friends that keep visiting.  Maybe a bit of a flirtatious one.  Maybe even a little crush.  One night he gets protective on a date gone bad and it leads to smut.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: So, basically, this is based off an experience I had last week. Not the smut part (ughhhhh), but the whole hostel owner coming to save the day when this dude just wouldn’t get the hint and leave. I relayed the experience to @ellieljade , because I needed her to die with me, and we both decided it should be used for smut fuel. Like grown adults. 

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His || Jungkook || 0.12

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12

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and i don’t know where i’m going but i’m on my way

an: title stolen from the song of the same name, a top forty hit in 1917 because fuck am i predictable.

summary: a steve trevor is alive in the 21st century fic. why? because i want him to be. how? no one cares, he just is.

There are few things in this world that she takes true delight in, anymore. The laugh of a child, the blush of first love between a young couple, the first fall of snow every year - these things make her smile, remind her of a past she takes care not to reminisce on too often, but they do not delight her.

This. This is a delight. 

He picks his way through the room, fingers drumming against every surface he encounters, eyes taking everything in, and she’d always noticed this about him, his attention to detail, his easy acceptance of every outlandish thing before him, the way he paid notice of how things worked. She’d taken him here because she needed proof that she was not being deceived, but instead she finds herself watching the fall of his hair over one eye, the impatient way he brushes it aside only for it to fall straight back into place, like it belongs there; the way he takes a startled step back when the screens blink to life before him, and the way, moments later, his gaze darts to the touchpads on the desk, the quizzical furrow of his brow as he tries to puzzle out how it all works.

“You wanna explain to me why there’s a dead man wandering the Bat Cave?”

Diana turns her head to catch sight of Bruce out of the corner of her eye, watches him as he carefully moves too stand beside her. The corner of her mouth slides up and she shakes her head back and forth, once, twice, before returning her eyes to the bank of screens and the man standing before them.

“No.”

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in which harry just wants to kiss…

Y/N was having a bad day. It wasn’t too often when she came home so off her rocker that she couldn’t fully calm herself, but the odds just were not in her favour. It just felt like she couldn’t catch a break and everyone was out to get her, and of course the day wasn’t finished with her yet. Unlike other days when Harry was in some part of the house awaiting her arrival, he was nowhere to be found. So, she did the only thing she thought to do with her nerves that rattled. She sat on the couch and stewed until he came home.

He walked in, a little while later, face set in a hard glare. He hadn’t had the best day either. Still, he saw her on the couch looking in a bit of a daze wearing the same thing she wore to work and knew that she wasn’t okay. He let out a long sigh and sat next to her. “Bad day?”

She nodded her head. “It was horrible.”

“What happened?” he asked and she launched into all the wrong thrust upon her. Harry wishes he could say that he was giving her his full attention, but he had a rough day too. Besides, she didn’t necessarily want feedback so much as someone who would listen.

She laid her head on his shoulder when she was done venting. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, love.” He turned his head, kissing her temple.

“Do you want to talk about your day? You look like you’ve not had a great day either.”

He maneuvered his body so he was fully facing her. “No, I’d just like to kiss you for a really long time.”

A small smile crept up onto her face. “Okay. I can make that happen,” she said, already leaning forward and wrapping her hands around his neck. 

He closed what little distance was left between them, pressing his lips to hers and wrapping his arms around her back. 

She could tell he was putting all his feelings into the kiss because of how hard and frantic it was. The way he was pushing against her. The way he was capturing her bottom lip with his top. The way he bit her bottom lip and let it snap back before going back in for another kiss.

He laid her all the way back against the couch so his weight was resting on her and deepened the kiss. He gently prodded the crease of her lips with his tongue, urging her to open her mouth, and once she did he swooped his tongue around hers in a battle for dominance. She let him have it. He could take all she had to give and then some.

They both began feeling a bit lightheaded, so he pulled back so they could have some time to breathe. But, the action didn’t come to a full stop. He took the time to lavish her neck with attention. He suckled on the juncture of her neck and jawline before pressing multiple kisses at the spot to soothe it. He moved the kisses along to the middle of her neck and left sloppy kisses down its column until he hit just above her collar bone and bit down, eliciting a moan. Again, he chose to suckle on the spot and leave kisses to seal it off. 

He lifted his head and dropped his jaw in awe of the colour blooming from the love bite he left on her skin. Typically, he’s not one to leave marks in such obvious places, but he swears he’s never been more into her than he was in that moment and he was really into her. His admiration didn’t last for long, though, as he licked a stripe up the opposite side of her neck to her jawline and kissed a line right to her earlobe, which he took between his teeth and whispered, “God, I love you,” in her ear.

She moaned louder than she’s used to in response, while wrapping her legs around his waist. Instead of returning back to her lips, her breath having come and gone as a result of his assault on her neck, he peppered kisses all around her face. At this point, she was absolutely reeling. Her mind wasn’t even working anymore. All the kisses that weren’t where she craved them was driving her crazy and she couldn’t take it anymore, so she cupped his face in her hands in an attempt to guide him back to her. She spotted the little lopsided smirk on his lips, telling tales of the satisfaction he gets from making her mental and bucked her hips to his in retaliation. He tilted his head back slightly as she did it again and again and again until his defences finally broke down and like the moon to earth he’s gravitated back to her.

He firmly grasped her hips, holding her down to stop from really getting his engine started when he was much too tired to do anything about it. Still, he absolutely loved the way she was kissing him back with just as much gusto he gave. He let out little growls and groans from the back of his throat and had to focus nearly all his brain power from giving into his urges and reigning the two of them back into neutral territory. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to because he loved when they went farther. He’s 100% convinced he could spend forever between her legs with her wrapped all around him. Today, though, it’d just embarrass him, and really all he wanted to do was kiss her. 

After a while, he broke up the kisses, pecking her lips until their lips are just barely brushing against each other, lazy smiles drawn on both of their faces.

Harry felt much more calm and collected and extremely connected to the girl laid down under him. He splattered a few kisses across her chest, tucking himself into her and begins to lay out the woes of his day. Once all the frustrations were finally freed, the conversation flowed easily between them, and they stayed up into all hours of the night and early morning talking about everything and nothing until they fell asleep.

Anonymous said: Can you do a monty imagine we’re he finds his girlfriend on the list (you can chose what for) and he gets really pissed of at Alex and fights him about it then the reader and monty end up in smut (or whatever your comfortable with ) xxx

Author’s Note: I tried to do pre-smut, but it didn’t really work out. Sorry!

Originally posted by wood-chris

Monty X Reader

You’re sitting in class when a piece of folded up paper gets tossed onto your desk. Half asleep, you blink blearily at it before Monty gently kicks one of the legs to your chair. And glancing at him, he smirks before gesturing to the piece of paper.

What is it? He mouths since the teacher is too busy droning on and on.

You shrug before fully sitting up, stretching in your seat and then reaching for the paper. Unfolding it, you scoff at what you see. It’s someone’s lame attempt at a Who’s Hot- n -Who’s Not, pitting the female population of Liberty High against one another. And not one to give these type of things more than a second glance, you crumble up the piece of paper and walk it over to the trashcan.

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Escape:  Father’s Day

Jamie woke up to the sun streaming through the window.  He blinked, and checked beside him.  No Claire. 

How had he not heard Bree?  

Padding down the hallway on bare feet he stopped at the small kitchenette he had put in upstairs.  When he converted his and Claire’s flats into a two story home he’d insisted on this space for just this reason.  A child.  No going downstairs in the middle of the night to heat a bottle, or grab milk from the fridge, or one more glass of water.  It would all be right here.  

The space was undisturbed.  

She had to be somewhere.

He continued his search for his family.  

His heart started to pound when he noticed no Bree in her crib, and no Claire in the rocking chair.  The room, tidy.  It was like they’d disappeared.  

Jamie sprinted down the stairs.  Not on the chesterfield, not in her study, or his office.  Dammit, Claire.  No note on the kitchen counter.   He looked around for his phone, and realized it was charging on his night stand.  He took the stairs two at a time.  He hit the top, and glanced out the window.  

Jamie stopped cold, and breathed a sigh of relief.  

He caught sight of the stroller as it passed by the alley, with Claire’s dark curls bouncing in step.  What in the hell was she doing out with Bree this early?

Phone forgotten he walked back down the stairs, and opened the front door. He heard the key in the street door, and started across the landing.  He heard her wrestle the carrier through the entry way, and then her voice. 

“Sorry, Bree.  Bumpy steps!  At least you’re awake now, huh?  With luck your Father will still be in bed, and we can surprise him.”

Surprise? Jamie thought.  O mo chreach.  Father’s day.  He couldn’t contain his grin.  Now what?  Sneak back inside?   

He leaned over the banister to look down the stairwell.  Claire had a large bag hitched over her shoulder, a bakery box tied with string poking out of the top, and was trying to unharness the baby to carry her, as well.  

He made his choice.

“There’s my two best girls!” he said, and watched Claire’s head snap up.

“Jamie!  Go back to bed.”  

Bree couldn’t contain herself at the sound of her Father’s voice.  She looked up, and began to kick her chubby little legs, arms extended.  He laughed.  

Light footed he trotted down the steps.  “Now why would I do that?  I get up for breakfast, and my loves are gone.   The flat sounded like a library.”  Undone, and in Claire’s arms, Bree lurched for him when he got to the bottom of the stairs.  He caught her up, and raised her above his head chuckling along with her baby giggles.  

“And no note from Mummy either,” he gave Claire a sidelong glance.  “What’s the deal?”

Claire pushed the bag farther up her shoulder, and grabbed the stroller to carry it up the stairs.  “Don’t be obtuse, Fraser.”

She walked ahead of him.  

“Obtuse, my beautiful red heided lass,” Jamie said, as he pulled the knit cap from Bree’s head, and smoothed her wispy bangs, “is a big fancy word yer Mam likes to throw at me to scold me.  Luckily, I’ve a nice view of her magnificent arse, and I’m happily distracted.”

Claire snorted.   

She set the stroller outside their door, and strode in wrestling the bakery box from the bag.  She set it on the counter with great fan fair.  Reaching back inside she produced a pale grey envelope, and laid it on top.  

Jamie couldn’t pretend any longer.  He hitched Bree up higher on his hip, and slid over to hold his wife.  His first celebrated Father’s Day.  Dammit, he was a Dad.  Had been a dad already, quietly, in his heart.  Today was a chance to commemorate it overtly.  Overwhelmed, he shook his head, a half smile on his face.  

Claire reached up, and rubbed her thumb against the stubble on his chin. “Happy Father’s Day.”

With a firm hold on his loves, he placed his lips on Claire’s, trying to pour all of his thanks, and gratitude for this title into his kiss.  Claire rose on tiptoes, and wound her hand into the curls at the nape of his neck.  She reached her other hand around his arm across Bree’s back.  

Not to be left out, Bree leaned in, and mushed her face between theirs. Laughing, Jamie bussed a kiss on Bree’s cheek, and handed her over to her mother.  

Opening the card he read the sentiments, smiling softly.  “I love you, too,” he whispered, looking at Claire.  She smiled at his quick change in tone.  

“Is this yer name, we’en?” Jamie said to Bree, pointing to a scribble at the bottom of the card.  “Hm?  Did ye write yer name, for Da?”  He popped another kiss on the end of the baby’s nose, and Bree grinned.

He set down the card, and pulled the white box toward him.  Untying the string he raised an eyebrow at his wife.  “I ken what this is.  I could smell it from the top of the stairs.” 

Claire laughed.  “Well to be fair, you were supposed to be in bed, and it was to be delivered with a coffee.”  

He lifted the lid.  Fresh scones, and shortbread.  The only bakery in Edinburgh that made them like his Mam did.  He breathed deeply.  “Thank ye, Claire. Truly. These are Heaven.”

He broke a piece off a scone, and placed it reverently in his mouth.  He closed his eyes savouring the taste.  Bree watched carefully.  He took a small corner of the shortbread and placed it on her tongue.  Bree’s eyes widened, and she smacked her lips.  

“Good, in’t it?  More?”  He broke off another piece, and like a baby bird Bree opened her mouth wide.  He laughed, and fed her again.

“That’s enough.  Time for a nap, you.”  Claire kissed the red curls at her daughter’s neck.  

“Can I do anything?” Jamie said around another mouthful of scone.  

“Yes. Make coffee, and save me one!” Claire threw back over her shoulder as she mounted the stairs.

“Never a chance,” Jamie mumbled.

He brought the coffee and scones, but they sat untouched for an hour.  The sight of his wife placing their sleeping daughter in her crib did him in.  Claire’s bare breast was displayed through the opening in her shirt, the tip wet from suckling.  When she saw him staring from the doorway, she smiled knowingly. Minutes later her nipple was in his mouth, her naked legs straddling him.  He took from her, unwrapped her like a gift, and promising her a Father’s Day present of her own, made her gasp, and cry out.  


They had a late lunch at Lallybroch, and Jamie was pleased to see his sister so happy with so much activity in the house.  He took Bree to the barn, and showed her the horses, played some footie with his nieces, and nephews, and drank beer with Ian.  Through it all he kept one eye on his wife, his heart full to bursting.    

Later that night, Claire tidied up after Jamie gave Bree her bath.  She headed downstairs, but what she saw made her sit down on the top step, and watch.

Jamie was reclining on the couch with Bree, who was clad in a soft cotton sleeper.  She was sitting on Jamie’s lap, laying back on his chest, watching the TV intently, while holding on to Jamie’s index fingers with her little hands.

“Now, that one, he’s a fly half, and a good one.” Jamie pointed at the screen, “But he needs to get the ball to the winger, just like that!”  Bree’s eyes widened as her daddy’s voice rose in excitement.  “Go, go, go!  Yes!”  

Bree squealed, and Jamie laughed.  He waved her arms for her.  “Aye, Bree! That’s a try!  And that braw lad just put us ahead by five points!”

Claire felt the tears come, powerless to stop them.  This.  This was all she wanted.  Being so alone for so long, she just wanted to feel a part of something, of someone.  She did not remember if she’d ever had this.  While she and Uncle Lamb had been close, they didn’t have this.  This warmth.  This unity.  

This sense of family.  

The “blood of my blood, bone of my bone” ancient Scottish promise that she and Jamie had made was sitting on his lap, blue eyes wide, red hair the same bright copper shades of her father’s highlights, with her two bottom teeth smiling.  

Jamie caught sight of her then.  He inclined his head, silently inviting her to join them.  As she came forward, he handed her Bree, patted the spot between his legs, and had her sit there against his chest, with Bree now in her lap, laying back.  Jamie’s long arms came around both of them, and Claire tucked her head on his shoulder, just under his chin.  

“Have you had a happy Father’s Day?” she asked, placing a kiss on his jaw.  

“I have, mo chridhe.  I have.”

hair dye [ cm x r ]

fandom : Dear Evan Hansen

by : Summer

pairing : Connor Murphy x Reader

summary : in which you and Zoe are dying your hair and try to convince Connor to dye his. 

request : “Could you write some Connor Murphy imagine where he is a virgin and the reader isn’t and it’s some smut.”

word count : 7,007

warnings : boy oh boy is this gonna be a sMUT HNNGGGFFFF, y’all can’t have a smut w/o a hella lotta sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions blood?, ooc writing, rushed writing, terrible writing in general;;,,,,,

 a / n : Inspired by when I dyed my hair and was super lazy per usual and stained my pillowcase. i’m such a sinner… Is it just me or did my writing change completely like halfway through it? idk it’s bad, sorry. Thanks for reading though. Any sort of support is sincerely respected: liking, commenting, reblogging, following, anything! Constructive criticism is always appreciated :) Much love.


“What the alien cult shit is going on?” Connor asked with a very pissed and very confused expression.

He had just walked past the bathroom when he saw his sister sitting on a chair with strands of hair sectioned off into tubes of tin foil. Y/N, his girlfriend was standing beside Zoe with purple hands. Purple? Blue? Indigo.

“It’s the devil himself,” Zoe said sarcastically.

“You little bi-”

“Zoe,” You cut off Connor rapidly, “if anything he’s a handsome devil.

“…Fuck you,” Connor mumbled, crossing his arms, and leaning against the doorframe.

“Y/N, you’re gross,” Zoe groaned. You snapped your indigo stained gloves off.

“Grossly in love,” you sang, walking over to Connor and tapping him on the nose. His scowl softened just slightly. Zoe simply groaned.

“I literally cannot have a single day without sharing you,” Zoe slapped the bathroom counter with both hands, “Y/N, you’re supposed to be my best friend. If anything, you’re like my sister and that’d be super weird to think of my sister dating my brother.”

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yoongi; i don’t like you(r cooking)

❝to say yoongi was excited or at the least interested in you was an understatement. on the other hand, do you know what is undercooked? your chicken pie.
►3341 words // scenario, post-based

Yoongi wakes up to a shit ton of noise outside his door and already he can foresee this is going to be a terrible day. Out of all the days he gets a break and it’s going to be one where the management decides to play a game of ‘what noise does Min Yoongi hate the most on a peaceful and quiet day?’ Oh yeah, Yoongi dreads for when they carry out a renovation or quote services to improving your stay here unquote bullshit.

So what does he do?

He, apparently, walks out of his bedroom with a disheveled appearance that paints him to be a caveman hibernating for god knows how long and yanks his front door open in irritation. With eyes barely able to open and mouth still full of cotton, he only registers what’s going on when his conscious saves him the guessing and reveals the answer in a form of a person with… a pie?

He gives himself a wakeup call to rub his eyes and shake off the sleepiness heavy in his system, willing to a couple of seconds before he confirms that he’s not seeing things. Blinking two consecutive times, he still sees a pie. Okay, it is a pie. No doubt about it there.

His eyes direct him to the owner of the pie and it’s a face he’s never seen before. Admittedly, he isn’t good with faces but if he saw this one… let’s say chances were high he’d recall.

Yoongi decides to be polite… first.

“Can I help you?”

Nervousness shows in your smile, anxiety trembling at your fingertips as they drum the bottom of aluminium casing. Shifting your weight from left to right, the will to man up and say something dipping in your eyes before you find the words to speak, he only waits patiently (not bad, Min Yoongi).

“H-Hi. I live next door and I wanted to come down to-”

“That old lady finally decided to sell her place?”

Look, Yoongi can only try to be polite.

“I’m sorry?”

“…oh shit. Okay, what I meant was-”

“Yes, she did,” You cut him off before he can try to explain himself and if that wasn’t the definition of being saved by the bell, Yoongi doesn’t know what is. He sighs in relief and shakes his head, eyes clenched shut with a soft how do I say this and he does say it as: “I’m kinda… how you call it…”

“…direct? Honest?”

“Woah, one assumption at a time,” He holds a hand up, the other resting by his hip and when your smile drops from the slight hospitality, he breaks out into a grin, “Both right, by the way,”

“Good to know the few times I decide to be a smart ass it works out,”

He puts his hand out, “I’m Yoongi,”

You juggle the pie on your forearm, a free hand inching out to place in his for a small shake, “I’m Y/N, as I would’ve introduced before,”

“Ah, right,” Yoongi retracts his hand, as to how yours return to hold onto the pie, “You new here?”

“Have you seen me before?” Your head tilts a little at the end of your question, and Yoongi finds it easy to smile in the early of the day when he should be asleep. In other words, he’s one hell of a grump if he’s interrupted in his sleep so to be smiling at this hour where he’d murder anyone who dares threaten his rest… it speaks miles of Yoongi’s patience here.

“If I did, I would’ve remembered that face,”

There’s an indirect wink when your face scrunches up at the answer but it’s not necessarily… bad? It’s just - well - however you try to put it, ah, whatever.

“I made you a pie. You know, since we’re going to be neighbours,”

And you can cook?” After the implication you’re pretty, it’s more or less a little too much for two compliments in a row so you hand him the pie regardless whether he was ready to hold onto three hours of dedication and time. He snorts at the lack of your response but at the spark in his eyes as you back away, you wave and give a reply of: “I try sometimes. See you around,”

Yoongi only clicks his tongue and backs into his apartment, watching you enter yours with a hint of red cheeks. As he closes the door behind him, padding his feet to the kitchen is where he takes a spoon to whip a generous bite. With a mouthful of the taste of chicken that’s… undercooked. He forces it down his system before setting the whole pan aside with a cough.

“She wasn’t kidding when she said she was trying.”

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anonymous asked:

can i get some prince adam angst

Originally posted by fyeahmovies

Title: Cliché.
Pairing: Prince Adam x Reader.
Words: 1,672.
Rating: T (Blood, gore, guns, death).
Summary: What if you took the bullet from Gaston that was meant to kill a ‘Beast’?


There were a few things that you were aware of in the moment that you found yourself in.

Firstly, Prince Adam was not a Beast, and even after years of being seen as one by himself and by those around him, he had finally realized that the only Beast was the one he was convinced he was. He was twisted into one and manipulated into that life because his father was determined to raise him without a drop of love in his heart after his mother died. You had changed that. You radiated pureness in the form that made Prince Adam stop in his tracks in wonderment. Have you really taught him that he wasn’t what he was cursed with? Have you truly taught him that there were slivers of love and adoration, those left deep inside after his mother passed? The inventible answer seemed to be an alarming yes.

He made his feelings clearly known as Adam snarled at Gaston a few moments prior to now, “I am not a Beast.” The sentence ended with Adam looking at you, as if reassuring that he wasn’t and that he wasn’t going to let himself fall back into the abyss.

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The Secret (6)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; epilogue.

“Zoe, the movie’s about to start!” you shouted through your apartment, throwing a handful of popcorn into your mouth while the opening credits of another Disney film lit up your TV screen. This was how you spent your Sundays with Zoe, being lazy and watching movies while the weather grew colder outside. It was definitely colder in Seoul than what you were used to in your hometown.

Zoe came into the living room huffing and puffing with her lips pulled into a pout. “We can’t watch the movie. I can’t find Mr Snuggles,” she grumbled, climbing onto the sofa to check behind it.

“Have you checked the bathroom? You were giving Mr Snuggles a bath in the sink this morning,” you remembered, holding her hand so she could safely jump off the sofa and sprint out of the room again.

Five seconds later, Zoe’s voice echoed from the bathroom. “I found him!”

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You’re the Boss

Pairing: Hotchner x Reader

Requested by anon: could you write imagine with Hotch,where the reader step-sister Penelope and helps her with her work (like an Intern).Once Hotch was asked to help the reader with something and she is trying to “quietly” seduce him.Aaron understands this and talks to her about it,but she continues to seduce him. Hotch tries to pull away,because she’s many years younger,but in the end loses,and it leads to hot sex in his office. Sorry if this is too much detail.Even if you do not accept,in any case, thank you :)

A/N:  When I talked about having a naughty dream, another anon asked for some rough sex with Hotch, and this only seemed fitting to the matter.  So major smut warning ahead.  Features a ‘sir’ kink and a bit of spanking in case anyone isn’t into that…

Originally posted by aarongregthomas

“I know it doesn’t sound that exciting, but my dearest pineapple, you have to start from somewhere,” Penelope said to her stepsister, handing her a stack of files.

“I know, I know.  Only way is up,” Y/N replied, grabbing the files and papers that she’d be instructed to organize in the filing cabinets.  Being an intern at the FBI may not have been the dream job, but it was going to look good on the resume and slowly but surely, she’d be able to climb the federal ladder.

“Garcia, do you have your debriefing paperwork?” Aaron Hotchner asked from his office door.  Y/N’s attention focused to the Unit Chief of the BAU.  The man had actually caught her attention since the minute she walked into the bullpen, his dark and stern gaze giving her goosebumps, the good kind.

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Accidents Happen {Reader Insert}

Imagine: A young Serpent needs refuge. Her first thought is an old friend, but when a redhead hottie opens the door, her plans are quick to change.

Summary: {Y/N} comes from the other side of the tracks, from a rough and broken home. In the spur of the moment, an accident happens and she’s left scared and vulnerable. She turns to an old friend, Jughead Jones. But it seems he’s quite preoccupied. Instead, she comes face to face with the famous Archie Andrews. Who knew good boys could make such good company?

Request?: No, another random thought that just had to be voiced. I mean, c’mon, Archiekins deserves all the love.

Word Count: 2078

Taglist: Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in anything.

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, credit to the user that made it. The Riverdale characters and storyline are also not mine, credit to the writers and producers.

A/N: When I first started writing this little oneshot, I honestly wasn’t too sure as to where I wanted it to go. But, I am very happy with how this turned out. Do let me know what you think! And of course, my ask box is open for any requests that you might have! Enjoy, my little bookworms 🖤

Originally posted by storycrackimagines

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“Nesta Archeron, I would like to take you to bed,” Tarquin said.

“You know I have a mate.”

“Yes, I know. And where is he now?” He stroked a dark knuckle down Nesta’s cheek. “You’ve been in my court for three months now. You’ve mentioned him once and that was it. He hasn’t yet come looking for you.”

Nesta closed her eyes, then opened them to stare at the dark water below, sparkling with the lights from the pleasure barge. They stood on the back end of the boat. It was warm and balmy, but a slight breeze kept them cool.

She had no idea where Cassian was. What he was doing. The last time she’d seen him was that night in Velaris, on her mother’s death day when…

She didn’t want to think about what it’d felt like to share her body with her mate. To share his body. Didn’t want to think about how long she’d laid in an empty bed knowing he wasn’t coming back.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Tarquin said quietly.

Nesta shook her head. “You didn’t.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what I want,” she lied. Nesta knew exactly what she wanted. It was hundreds of miles away probably drowning at the bottom of another bottle. And who was she to judge? She’d left soon after they’d slept together and fled to the only court she knew he couldn’t get into. Told them all it was to avoid the harsh winter of Velaris. But really she was hiding from him, from what they should have been, but never would be.

She was a coward.

And she was lonely. So unbearably lonely.

She turned to Tarquin. His blue eyes swam like ocean waves. “I can’t offer you anything more.”

He smiled and stroked his knuckle down along her cheek again. She leaned into the touch. “I know,” he said gently. “I’m not asking for anything more. I’m just asking for tonight.”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Okay.”

[End Dark Paradise - pt 4] [pt. 1, 2, 35, 6, 7, 8, 91011, 12]

“There’s no relief, I see you in my sleep, and everybody’s rushing me, but I can feel you touching me.”

His Wedding | eight

Summery:  Modern-Day(AU) Bucky and you are former exes. He moved on but you couldn’t. Since you both are still friends, he asks you for a favor. You reluctantly agree, not thinking of the future consequences you’ll have to face. You just hope everything will go fine with your two best friends, Steve and Natasha by your side.

Word Count: 2805

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: Romance/Drama

Warnings: language

Characters (by appearance):

A/N: I legit cried writing the ending of this part, but it may not be that emotional for you guys (yes I cry over tiniest things, so sue me) Also, future updates won’t take this long. Please give me FEEDBACK, YA’LL I LOVE READING YOUR COMMENTS/ASKS

SORRY READERS, no Bucky in this particular part. But I promise there’s mention (lol ik you don’t want just mentions but… eh, it’s just how it rolls)

Sorry for any typos :P

“His Wedding” Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part


Previously on “His Wedding” :

“I know I’ve already done this. But I don’t care if you say no again, because I’ll keep asking–”

“I’ll go out with you, Steve.” I tell him eagerly before he could even say it. Technically I kind of saved him from the embarrassment of asking me for the fourth time.

“Oh, thank God.” He mumbles before crashing his lips with mine.

Keep reading

Unwelcome Interruptions - Brett Talbot Imagine

Requested by @rochyuWhat about this one: when the reader and brett are cuddlind in his bed naked (bc why not) and they’re falling asleep together until scott and stiles burts into his room and take him with them bc he have to help with something and then the reader and all the girls are taken to the lake house ffor sleepovers and brett find her and he so pissed bc his baby girl is not with him and pls end it cute 

Word Count: 1,545

Warnings: implying and mentions of sex

Author’s Note: Feedback is greatly appreciated :)

[My Teen Wolf Master List]

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Brett and Y/N’s relationship isn’t easy. They both go to two different high schools and are constantly busy trying to save their town from the supernatural chaos. Yet, somehow, they make it work. It’s rare when they have time for each other, but when they do, they make every second count. They would go out on movie and bowling dates, go out to eat, or sometimes stay home to cuddle, and simply enjoy being with one another. Just like right now. 

As soon as the final bell rang, Brett surprised Y/N by showing up in her school’s parking lot. He was leaning against his car, with his ankles crossed, and his arms folded to his chest. It was like Jake waiting for Samantha in Sixteen Candles. He took her to get ice cream at her favorite ice cream parlor. Afterwards they went back to his place, where they were just going to watch a movie, but ended up in his bed. Now, they were wrapped in each other’s arms with their half naked bodies underneath the sheets.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Brett said as he pulled her to his bare chest. She hummed in agreement as she cuddled against him, taking in the mixed smell of his cologne and sweat. Brett ran his fingers through her silky hair and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

Y/N drew random shapes on his lower back with the tip of her fingers as she buried her face at the crook of his neck, peppering it with soft wet kisses. “I love you, too,” she sighed in content.

Brett heard a set of footsteps after car doors were slammed. He leaned up on his elbows to look out his bedroom window and noticed Stiles’ baby blue jeep was parked in the driveway. Brett has gotten closer to Scott and Stiles since he started dating Y/N. It came to a point where they could come and go into each other’s houses without knocking or ringing the doorbell.

“Shit,” Brett mumbled as the best friends walked up to the front door and opened it.

Keep reading

Hades!Harry pt. 1

  A/N: “Could you write about Hades!Harry??xx” I’ve never written anything like this before but i was so excited to step out of my comfort zone. I got a bit carried away so there will be a Part 2. Enjoy!


    Y/n didn’t find herself in scary situations that often. Her days consisted of tending to the crops, making sure her younger siblings are fed three times a day, and treading the two hour journey to the nearest market to sell anything she possibly could for extra cash. Her routine had been this way since her parents were killed out at sea a year ago. That’s all she knows; no major details or even a chance to bid them farewell.  

   They left, one morning, with the intention to trade goods with villagers that resided a couple hundred miles east of the Atlantic. They promised her and her two younger brothers that they would return in a month’s time. Unfortunately, the day after they departed, Y/n received a knock at the door and an unsealed letter with no return address stating that her Mother and Father had died. 

  “Ship caught fire. There were no survivors, sorry for you loss” 

    Y/n had been only seventeen at the time, but her wisdom was well beyond her years. It was that very wisdom that allowed her to take charge of the household and become the new guardian for her brothers. She wouldn’t call the death of her Parents ‘scary’. Incredibly tragic? Yes. But she had been raised to take on challenges when they’re thrown at her.

   The girl always stood by that, even when she found herself being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night by two dark figures. She kicked, flailed and scratched every chance she got. There was no way they would take her without a fight. The brawny black figures had managed to pin her down to the bed and tie her hands behind her back with chains. She blew a stray strand of hair from her face as they picked her up and made their way towards the door. She began to wonder how she had not heard them break the door down. 

 'God I’m so stupid’ she thought to herself, though she knew very well that even if she had heard them break into the cottage, she would’ve ended up in the very same position.

   Just before they carried her passed the boys’ room, she was able to peek in and see that they were staring back at her in sheer terror. Her heart broke. She was helpless and she knew they felt the same. It was obvious that whoever these people were, didn’t take an interest in the children and that was the only bright side she could find in this predicament. They throw her in the back of a horse-pulled carriage, one of the men stayed in the back to make sure she didn’t escape somehow. The floor of the carriage was covered in dirt and hay, the walls of it were just high enough to hide her from anyone passing by.

   The man beside her, who she could now see was wearing all black armor, proceeded to tie a cloth of some sort across her mouth to prevent any screaming. He left her nose exposed, which gave her the idea that they wanted her alive for some reason. 

 Numerous hours later

 The sun began to rise and she regained consciousness. She didn’t remember falling asleep but she couldn’t blame herself, she’s human.  The carriage came to an abrupt halt, which caused her to hit the top of her head on the wooden barrier. “mmh!” She groaned in pain; the man that had sat with her the entire night, flashed her an unapologetic smile. A few seconds later she was being lifted once again and pulled out of the cart. 

  She took this opportunity to look around and try to figure out where the hell they had taken her. It was like nothing she’d ever seen.

 Before her, stood a castle, bathed in charcoal colored bricks and dressed with Gargoyles at the large, Redwood double-doors. Her feet were still bare and she couldn’t help but wince every time she stepped on a pebble. The armor clad men showed no remorse as they pushed and pulled her every which way. The doors opened slowly, almost as if the structure itself had been expecting her.

  Once inside, her feet were brought relief by the cold marble flooring in the corridor; her eyes darting across the room. She spied million dollar paintings, two grand stair cases, and several stone pillars that kept the manor standing. It was hard to miss the other knight-like men who were posted at just about every corner. Without a moment to think she was, yet again, being guided rather roughly to a location that remained unknown to her. She gave up fighting a long time ago, figuring that if she kept her sanity in tact, she may be able to think up a way to save herself or find someone who can.

  They dragged her up the set of stairs to the left, and through a massive hallway. The walls in this particular area were made, not of wood or stone, but of skulls. Hundreds, possibly thousands of skulls, bound together to form a wall. She wondered how they did it, and if those people had been killed for that dumb reason. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if her head would be an addition to the foyer. After examining the enclosure, she decided to look straight ahead. 

There at the end of the hallway, was another set of cherry colored doors. one door was slightly ajar and it allowed her to peek inside, the same way she did as she passed the room of her brothers not so long ago. She saw what looked to be a bed, a big one; garmented in a duvet the color of blood.

A bedroom?

They dropped her, upon their arrival to the room. They finally removed the chains from her arms as well as the cloth from her mouth. She fell to the floor, her arms covered in bruises and welts. She turned to face the men and opened her mouth to demand answers but was cut off off by the sound of another. A deep, raspy voice; coming from somewhere in the spacious room. 

“So glad you could make it”

She turned back to face the front, eyes locking with a man. He was tall and fit. He was someone she had seen before, she just couldn’t put her finger on where. “do i- hmm” she started but had stop and clear her throat, it had been hours since she had some water. “do i know you?” she asked, sheepishly. Something about his presence intimidated her.

“Yes and no” he smirked. He sauntered over to where she was sitting on the ground, rubbing at her sore arms. He crouched down to her level “you’ve probably seen me in an old carving or something of the sort” he ran his index finger across her jaw. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

‘i’m Harry. Although, if we’re being cordial I should give you my real name” he sighed. “Hades, lord of the underworld”. He studied the blank expression she was giving him. 

“I mean I added that bit about the underworld. Has a nice ring to it” he stated She still said nothing. “I’m not fond of it either, that’s why I make people call me Harry” he smiled before standing. She stared up at him, swallowing what moisture she had left in her dry mouth. 

“oooh don’t look at me like that” he chuckled. biting his bottom lip.

She clears her throat again “Why am I here?” her voice is smaller than its ever been. Part of her hoped he didn’t hear, afraid of how he would react. “Well, doll” He breathed. “I’ve been lonely for quite some time now. I used to have a lovely wife but….let’s just say….I let my temper get the best of me one evening” he snickered. She heard the men behind her stifle their laughter as well. 

“Anyways, i want another but I have standards. I’m five thousand years old, i’m not getting any younger and I know what you’re going to say ‘Harry you don’t look a day over twenty-three!’” he shrilled in a high pitched nasally voice. 

“I wasn’t going to say any-”

“Shh! I haven’t finished my monologue” he interjects. She, boldly, rolled her eyes.

“Long story short, you’re a smart, headstrong, young woman. I started watching you after your parents died…sorry about that by the way it wasn’t my intention” he confessed. Her eyes widened but she was frozen in shock by what she  had just heard. She waited for him to explain what he meant by that.

“I had gotten in a fight with Poseidon and it got a little out of hand I really am sorry, darling” his voice was filled with atonement. He looked back to her, searching for any sign of forgiveness. Even though was was the god of all things bad, he still possessed somewhat of a heart. She nodded, sensing a little bit of guilt in his words.

“What i’m trying to say here is, You’re my new Wife!” he declared. 

I will find you

paring; Joker x blind reader prologue

prompt; one day when joker was busy terrorizing the city of Gotham he met someone that didn’t seem to be affected by any of his actions. She didn’t scream in fear or run away like the others what was it about her that made her so different from the rest? 

a/n: this is a prolog for my new joker imagine. I haven’t really watched any batman movies recently the only time I did watch it was when I was 8 maybe so I am not so sure if I got joker’s character right. I mainly used Jared Leto’s joker from suicide Squad. First Joker fic y’all send me some feedback

Joker’s pov

I walked the street of Gotham with my gun on my right hand. I heard people scream as they walked pass me. Some fled, others looked at me with horror and fear. They were all so scared of me and I loved it. I felt powerful.

“Call the cops!” some guy I said. I looked at him and laughed, his eyes were filled with fear. he knew what was going to happen to him. I looked at him with a huge grin spreading my face. “You have Three seconds to run,”I looked at him dead in the eye and pulled the trigger of my gun. I had planted at least 5 bullets in his body. “Oh sorry I forgot to count,” laughed. 

As I continued walking and terrorizing people around me saw a girl. She had beautiful y/h/c, I kept looking at her she was smiling. For some reason, she stayed unaffected from all this chaos that happened all around her. Why? Why isn’t she running, screaming in horror?why isn’t she running away from me? 

“Boss I think someone is calling the cops,” One of my henchmen said. I looked at with angry eyes “then why don’t ya kill’em? it’s not like anyone is gonna miss’ em, “I  screamed him. 

I continued to admire the girl. I didn’t know why but I couldn’t keep my eyes away from her. She was breathtaking and yet she was wearing the simplest of clothes. I walked up to where she was sitting alone on a bench in the middle of the now filled with a few dead bodies park. I sat next to her smelling the sweet scent of her perfume. 

She turned around to face me “hello?” she asked me in the sweetest tone. I looked at her still waiting for her to react to me, to jump and call me a monster and run away in fear like the rest of them, but she just sat there smiling at me like I was her best friend. 

“hey there doll face,” told her. Her smile grew bigger I saw a hint of relief in her eyes as if she thought that I had left her here and that she was talking to herself the whole time.

“What ya doing here? All alone and by ya self?” I asked. Why am I asking her these stupid question? Why am I even talking to her when I can just kill her or better torture her?. 

Her lips curled into a sweet smile “ I am not alone,” she chuckled. It was the cutest thing I have ever heard- Wait what is wrong with me I am not like this. “Well maybe at the moment but my friend went to the bathroom and said he would return to get me,” she looked at me her eyes still filled with hope “ but he didn’t come back,”. My blood started to boil when she told me that her so called ‘friend’ left her here. How can someone do that to her? To such an innocent and delicate little flower like her?

“How ‘bout I drop ya home? what ya say doll face?” I ask in the hopes she will agree and accept my offer. “ Oh no it’s fine-” I put a finger on her lips “ ah ah ah I will not take a no for an answer,” she smiled and got up. “Well then let’s get going” she moved her hand to the side on the bench where a long white stick with a bit of red on the bottom was placed and took it. She straightened the stick and held my arm in hers “I live right here down the corner so no need to take your car, “ she told me. 

“ Sure thing doll face,” my henchmen looked at with wary eyes, one of them tried to come to me to take her away but I stopped him right before he could do anything. 

“So doll face tell more about yourself?” I asked her “well other than I am blind I don’t know what to say”.”Take the left” she said “what?” I was totally confused. She laughed “my house it’s on your left”. 

We talked a bit about each other when we reached her house and one of my stupid henchmen came.I had to resist the urge not to blow his brains out this very second “boss the cops are coming” he whispered in my ear. I motioned him to go. 

“ I have to go now doll face, but I will find you,’‘ I told her and left. I will find you I whispered as went to blow the cops brains because he interrupted my and my doll face’s conversation. 


 Tags?

The One

IMAGINE: If you asked Steve about his dream girl, his ‘the one’, he would have never described her, never even would have thought of her…funny how things work out.

[gif is not mine. based on the poem with the same name by lang leav. requests are open. this one shot is the first part to however many poetry inspired one shots i do.]  

warnings: none

words: 2.3 k+


‘I don’t want you to love me because I’m good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you are looking for…’

There was something in the way that she walked, she talked or the way she did anything that set him on fire. He’s never met a more infuriating person. A more different person than he was.

“I just don’t get why you’re being so emotional about this,” she rolled her eyes as she watched Steve sigh once again.

“(Y/N)…” Steve looked at the woman in front of him. The thick fashion magazine held in her hand, “Just because it’s not about fashion or tearing someone down does not mean that you shouldn’t care about this.”

She bit her lip, “It’s just Tony.”

“Exactly, he’s going to break her heart,” he explained. “She’s only a kid (Y/N).”

(Y/N) sat down next to him, “Look Rogers, it’s their life and she wants to be with him then let her. Just support her.”

“He’s just going to use her,” Steve spoke quietly.

In an instant (Y/N)’s demeanor change. Long gone was the somewhat caring girl, it was now replaced by her usual stance around him -cold, hard and unfeeling. “You watch your mouth Rogers, because I swear to god if you throw Tony’s past in his face, I will hurt you.” Her grip tightened on the magazine.

Steve turned around and looked into her eyes. There was anger underlying it, fire in her eyes. “She’s like a sister to me. He’s the type of person that can hurt someone.”

(Y/N) stood up sharply, and through gritted teeth she spoke, “And he’s like a brother to me Rogers.” She leaned forward, him leaning as she got closer, “You watch your mouth around me.” (Y/N) moved back and started walking away. “By the way, he’s the type of person that can only hurt someone if they’ve hurt him first, so maybe don’t judge on him when you don’t know all the facts.”

She walked faster to the door, slamming it as hard as she can.


‘… I want to be the one that you didn’t see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed in love. Who makes you feel reckless and out of control. The one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to…’

If you told Steve Rogers that one day he’ll wake up with a strange inkling that will soon lead to the discovery that he found (Y/N) attractive and that he actually liked her, he would have probably laughed in your face and politely say that ‘you’re crazy.’


That was the conundrum that he found himself in as he watched her laugh with Bucky and Sam. Of course he still found her annoying and judgemental, and the complete opposite of himself, as well as what he found attractive. But watching her laugh with his two best friends, her head thrown back without any care, her hips jutting out as she told off Sam for doing something stupid. There was just something about her that he couldn’t explain.

“Why do you keep staring at her?” Pietro asked as he stood next to Steve.

Steve turned to Pietro, “I just wanted to know how such a small girl can contain so much evil in her.”

“She’s not that bad,” Pietro started. “She’s only like that whenever she’s around you.”

“She criticizes everything that I do, from the way I walk or my clothes -did you know that she hates me wearing plaid? I apparently have the entire of plaid in my wardrobe.” He paused and looked at her again, “It’s just she’s so different from the women that I’m used to.”

“Why does that have to be a bad thing?”

Steve took a while  to come up with his answer. Opening his mouth to voice out something but every time he did Steve felt that it wasn’t the right thing to say. Finally he came to the conclusion, “It’s not.”

“Don’t you realize that maybe why you hate her is because you like her?” Pietro spoke, tilting his head towards her direction. When Steve didn’t speak, Pietro broke out into a huge grin and chuckled, “Fuck, you’re hell bent crushing on her! That’s why you’re staring at her so much with that stupid-loved up look on your face!” Steve glared at Pietro who wasn’t deterred by the intimidating look on the super soldier.

As Pietro walked away he saw that (Y/N)’s conversations with the boys has finished and started walking over to where he was. He saw her smile at him and he probably thought that she forgot that he was Steve Rogers.

“Rogers,” she greeted. She looked him up and down, “Not wearing plaid I see.”

“What is it with you and the plaid?” He groaned. He honestly couldn’t understand it. Plaid isn’t that bad and he didn’t have that many plaid shirts.

She shrugged, “I have something for you.” She walked past him, knowing that he would follow her even though she didn’t ask him. Her aura commanded him. Steve rolled his eyes. Typical.


When they reached her bedroom, he looked around apprehensively taking in her bedroom. It was nice, it was minimal barely any decorations. He walked to her table where a cork table was placed. He smiled when he saw that it was pictures of her and the Avengers scattered around what he guessed was mementos. “You kept this?” He pointed at the ticket stub in bottom left corner, one that was hidden behind everything.

(Y/N) turned around and saw that he was touching the ticket stub gingerly, “I had a good time.” She remembered the day vividly, it was when everyone was on their mission and she was stuck at the compound because she broke her arm, while Steve was struck with a fever. She was bored and she was stuck babysitting him, so she decided to take him to the MET when he was feeling better. Up until that day she didn’t know that they had anything in common, other than the fact that he was her match when it came to verbal sparring.

He found out that art is one of her biggest passions and that she wanted to become an art historian but certain things happened that led her to follow in her father’s footsteps. Steve remembered thinking that maybe she wasn’t the shallow, vapid girl he thought she was. Like an art piece there was always something meaningful behind everything.

Their days were spent talking about his past and how he felt about the future, watching movies from his time and her being surprised when he quoted Casablanca. He hesitantly revealed to her that it was one of the first movies that he saw when he came out of the ice.

Everything was fine until the others got back and they were back at their old habits again, though this time it felt less personal and more for a show.  


“Aha!” She proclaimed as she opened a drawer and pulled out a neatly wrapped present. It was blue and white, with a red bow on top. “Gotta have that Captain America theme,” she winked at him and passed him the present.

He opened the present slowly, trying carefully not to rip the paper. Once he saw what was wrapped, words got stuck in his throat. “(Y/N)…”

“Don’t start crying on me Rogers,” she warned but there was no malice in her voice.

He pulled the paper away. It was his drawing that he did of everyone, a drawing of a photograph that she and he both proudly displayed in their bedrooms. He thought he lost it when Natasha did her usual random clearing of everything in everyone’s rooms. “This is beautiful.” He stroked the frame, it was gold and one of those smaller frames that held priceless arts in the museums. “Thank you so much.”

She shrugged, thinking nothing of it. “Guess my barging into people’s rooms is a good thing.” She walked over to him, her heart filling with warmth as he gazed and touched the picture frame. “At least your abnormally large hands can create something good.”


As Steve left her room, he found himself in another conundrum. How did he get into this situation? How did he manage to find a person that was the complete opposite of him, the untraditional girl who set his soul on fire. The girl who he disliked with so much passion, the one who constantly bickered with him, manage to make him feel like he’s never felt before?


‘… I don’t want to be the one who tucks you into bed -I want to be the reason why you can’t sleep at night.’

When Steve was a young child he knew what love meant. It meant being there for the person that you cared for. It was easy. It was safe. There were no fights, if there was there was it would just be little bickers. Steve would come home, greet his wife and children and they would live happily ever after. He dreamt for that life, he yearned for it, even after he came out of the ice.

Then she came into his life and turned everything upside down. She was a constant thorn in his side that manage to somehow, overtime, turn into one of the most beautiful flowers he has ever seen. Maybe she wasn’t a thorn after all, maybe she was just a particularly prickly bud that he judged based on appearance, but after he got a closer look, after it took time, she turned into something else.


“Weren’t we supposed to have this massive epiphany that you liked me? Or you know someone makes this giant I like you speech and this is why I like you?” (Y/N) spoke as she chopped the carrot.

Steve shrugged, “You don’t like grand gestures.”

(Y/N) turned to face him, hand clutching the knife, “Excuse me! I do too like grand gestures, as long as they don’t embarrass me,” she started listing of things and Steve found himself looking at her. Really looking at her. The only time that he paid attention was when she pinched him. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Careful with that knife (Y/N),” he plucked it out of her hands and she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have a great epiphany because the feeling was always there so I just woke up one day and went ‘oh, I like her’,” he finished his speech with a casual shrug.

He went back to chopping the onions, his peripheral vision allowed him to see that she was still in the same position. She picked up the knife and started chopping the carrots. “You’re such a sap.” Steve smiled as she said those words, it was her basically saying that she liked him as well.


“I don’t get why we can’t have steak (Y/N)!” Pietro yelled as he picked his food with his fork. “There are proteins that we need.”

“Because Tony decided that he wants to try vegetarianism,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “So we have to cater for the almighty Iron Man.” She threw a bean at him which he caught and smiled at her.

Steve sat next to her watching as she kept making faces at Tony, and not at all enjoying her food. He made a mental note to take her to Taco Bell after dinner. Maybe it was that moment that made him know that he really, truly, deeply in love with her. With her hair cascading down her face, and she made an aggravated noise when it fell in front of her face. Or maybe it was the way that she got along with other people, or maybe. There were too many maybe’s what he did know was that he wanted to say it out loud for everyone to know.

“Excuse me,” he spoke loudly as he stood up. “I just wanted to let everyone to know that I love (Y/N).” Steve could feel the glare from (Y/N), and the amused stares from the others. “I love her because she secretly loves me in plaid, she said so. The fact that she cries whenever that giraffe ad comes on, I love her-,” he didn’t get to finish as (Y/N) yelled at him. ‘

“STEVE GRANT ROGERS!” (Y/N) stood up, her face red due to embarrassment, but she couldn’t help but feel giddy and light inside.

“I also love her when she screams out my name just like that,” he winked at everyone and made a mad dash to the door.

“ROGERS!” With an ungraceful stand she began running after him, but not before flipping off everyone in the room, causing them to laugh louder.

She finally caught up to him, took her shoe off and hit him, “Did you just throw your shoe at me?” Steve turned around amused.

“I cannot believe you did that!”

“You said you loved grand gestures,” he teased as he picked up the shoe and started walking towards her.

“I specifically said that I hated grand gestures.”

He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her, “But I love you so I should get a pass for that.”

“The only people that get a pass for embarrassing me are the people that I love,” she smirked at him, hoping that he got what she was saying. She watched as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

“You love me,” she scowled at the shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re an idiot.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe I somewhat love you.” (Y/N) pressed her lips against his. Steve tightened his arms around her and smiled into the kiss.

“Guys, oh my god! Gross!” Sam yelled as he walked into the room and saw the couple heavily making out. Sam made a face and began gagging. “Get a room!” He made a disgusted noise and yelled at them once more and left the room.