this bit had me in stitches

2

DAY 2 OF THIS WONDERFUL SHIP’S WEEK: hero/villain

talking from experience, when all you wanna do is finish your damn project the person trying to pull you away from it (for whatever reason) may seem like a monster or a villain but in this case lance was only looking after shiro.

Second chance

(A/N): I just really needed Bucky fluff so

Summary: (Y/N) gives Bucky a home, a family, love, a second chance.

Warnings: fluff

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah, @callmeoncette


Originally posted by veestronger

   Bucky winces as the front door creaked; he’d have to change the hinges soon. The floor boards ached underneath his boots, making awful creaking noises with each step. Goddamit, he was trying to be quiet for fucks sake and his 7,000 year old house was making that nearly impossible.

   “You’re back early,” Bucky looks up from the old wooden floor to look upon his wife, standing at the foot of their stairs with a robe wrappedaround her body. Bucky can’t help but smile as he lowers his bag to the ground, immediately enveloping (Y/N) into a tight hug.

   “Mission went off without a hitch,”

   “Mmhh, that’s good,” (Y/N) hums softly as she runs her fingers through Bucky’s sweat matted hair. “No bruises, cuts, broken bones?”

   “My leg has a small scratch, nothing to be too worried about,” (Y/N) releases Bucky from their hug instead taking his hands as she quietly led him up the stairs, stopping when the floorboards would creak gently. It took a few minutes but (Y/N) finally got them up the stairs and into their shared bedroom.

   (Y/N) immediately drags Bucky to their bathroom, gingerly forcing him down onto the side of their bathtub, a vintage claw foot that Bucky spent years trying to install.

   “Clothes off,” (Y/N) states matter of factly as she reaches under their sink, grabbing the first aid kit she always had on hand.

   “(Y/N), it’s really nothin’ to worry about doll, just a little scratch-”

   “Don’t make me tell you again Mr. Barnes,” (Y/N) clucked her tongue at him, smiling just a bit. Bucky smiled as he unbuttoned his vest, letting it droop to the floor as he began worming his boots and pants off. Before his pants were even off his leg (Y/N) pounced upon him, inspecting his wound thoroughly as though she were some kind of surgeon. She might as well have been a surgeon given how often she was stitching Bucky up, making him feel better and okay.

   “I don’t think it’s going to need any stitches- this time,” (Y/N) adds the last part with a soft smile. “Probably just some cleaning and a bandage.”

   “See, what did I tell you-”

   “But you need a shower, you smell horrible,” Bucky chuckles gingerly as he shakes his head, still being mindful enough to be quiet.

   “Only if you join me,” (Y/N) smiles softly, chuckling herself.

   “I have to go make breakfast soon-”

  “We’ll help each other, promise,”

   “James Buchanan Barnes, the last time you tried to cook in my kitchen you nearly burned our entire house down,”

   “Yeah, but then we got to renovate, remember how fun that was?”

   “I remember you nailing your hand to a piece wood, that’s for sure,” (Y/N) chuckles again, shaking her head fondly at the memory.

   “Well, I have experience now and I promise I won’t burn our kitchen down,” Bucky smiles softly, his eyes twinkling with a warm sort of fondness for his wife. “Please join me?”

   “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” (Y/N) slides off her robe as Bucky turns their tub on, letting it fill up with warm water before he and (Y/N) clambered In.

   Bucky looks back as (Y/N) slides her bra off, leaving her completely vulnerable to his gaze. It felt like Bucky’s breath had been taken away; it didn’t matter how many times he looked at (Y/N), every time he did it felt like the first, every single time.

   “You’re gorgeous,” Bucky whispers as he settles his hands on (Y/N)’s waist as his gaze rakes up and down her body, taking every chunk of her in. “So gorgeous,” Bucky leans forward, pressing a series of kisses along (Y/N)’s hips, stomach, and sternum. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and her hands immediately fly to his hair, gripping it gently.

   “Bucky, bath first, sex after breakfast,” Bucky smiles as he pulls back, looking up at (Y/N) adoringly.

   “You’re no fun,”

   “Get in the tub you loser,” (Y/N) chuckles as they give his shoulder a gentle tap, before she clambers into the tub, taking up almost half the thing.

   “God, we need a new tub,” Bucky mutters as he slides in, right between (Y/N)’s legs.

   “And you’re not installing it,” (Y/N) presses a gentle kiss to his forehead as she grabs his shampoo bottle, flipping the cap open and squirting some onto her palm.

   “Why not?” Bucky pouts adorably as (Y/N) uses her free hand to work some water into his hair.

   “I don’t need to remind you of what happened the last time you tried to install something,” (Y/N) chuckles as she works the water into his hair, soaking it before working the shampoo in. Bucky hums in delight, sighing as he relaxes against (Y/N)’s body.

   “It was my first time, I can do it so well now-”

   “Bucky,” (Y/N) title his head up enough that she can lean down to press a kiss to his lips. “No more repairs or installations for you, we’ll get a contractor to come out and help,”

   “What the hell kind of contractor is going to come all the way out here?”

   “Bucky, stop squirming or you’re going to get shampoo in your eyes,” (Y/N) chuckles as she fondly strokes her husband’s scruffy cheek, just a barely there touch that she knew he enjoyed so much.

   Bucky settles down, enough for (Y/N) to wash his hair, condition it, and manage to cover some parts of his body in soap.

   “And I’m sure uncle Clint wouldn’t mind coming in to help fix the tub,”

   “You’d pick Clint over me?” Bucky looks almost appalled as he looks up at (Y/N), his eyes narrowed and mouth open. (Y/N) smirks as she hands the soap over to Bucky, smacking the soapy bar into his outstretched hand.

   “Mhm, yes I would,”

   “I’m offended,” Bucky mutters as he washes all the parts (Y/N) wasn’t able to get, namely anything past his pecs.

   “Boohoo,” (Y/N) chuckles as Bucky begins to work on his legs, having to sling one of them over the edge of the tub to clean it. “I’ll make it up to you later,”

   “Yeah,” Bucky grumbles as he works on the other leg. “I’m sure you will,” (Y/N) smiles as she tilts her head, just enough to kiss the side of Bucky’s head.

   “How about waffles for breakfast and me for dessert?” Bucky hums as he sets the soap down, tilting his head up to smile at (Y/N).

   “That sounds heavenly,”

   “Well let’s get going then Big guy,” (Y/N) chuckles softly as Bucky clambers out of the tub, grabbing a towel for himself and two for (Y/N).

   “Thank you,” (Y/N) gets on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips before quickly pulling away again. “You’re running out of clothes to wear,” (Y/N) comments as she throws him a pair of boxers and loose sweats. “We’ll have to go shopping soon,” Bucky Hums as he gets dressed, sliding his clothing on as he watched (Y/N). God- he could just look at her all day. She was beautiful in his eyes, any little imperfection that she hated Bucky loved, any stretch mark or unwanted mole, any “fat” that she claimed to have he loved it.

   Bucky can’t help but wrap his hands around (Y/N)’s waist as she slips a shirt on, letting it bunch around his arms.

   “I missed you,” Bucky whispers as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “I missed this,” (Y/N) sighs as she settles her arms over his, grasping his hands gently and giving them a gentle squeeze.

   “I missed you too…how long will you be staying this time?”

   “Whenever Fury calls me back,” Bucky presses his lips to (Y/N)’s neck, giving her a series of open mouthed kisses. (Y/N) hums pleasurably, tilting her head to the side a bit to give Bucky better access.

   “We miss you,” (Y/N) whispers, stopping Bucky dead in his tracks. We. (Y/N) and their children; their children. Sometimes Bucky forgot he had a life here, a loving wife, three amazing kids, he was so caught up with Shield and missions and hydra that he forgot that he was past that part of his life; he didn’t have to worry about hydra, shield and missions weren’t his day and night anymore but (Y/N) was, his family was.

   “I know baby,” Bucky sighs as he breaks away, rubbing at his forehead as he does. “I need to resign, I need to do something-”

   “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up shield for us-”

   “But I want to,” Bucky hangs his head, sighing once again. “I want to leave that chapter of my life behind. It’s like I’m stuck on the same damn page twenty four seven and I hate it. You guys are my new chapter, I just need to stop going back and rereading the last ones…” (Y/N) smiles softly as she reaches out, holding Bucky gently.

   “Then take a break, stay at home, learn how to cook, fix our tub and walls-”

   “I thought you said no more renovations for me?” Bucky smiles just a bit, one quirk of his lip is all.

   “Mh, I’ve changed my mind, plus if you’re going to be here all the time you’re going to need to learn how to do some work,” Bucky chuckles as he holds (Y/N), a sweetly almost earthy sound filling the air.

   “You’re rude to me,”

   “Yeah I am,” (Y/N) smiles as she gently kisses Bucky’s bare chest. “And you love me for it,” (Y/N) pulls away, taking Bucky by the hand as she gently guides him down the stairs and into their kitchen.

   “Yeah, unfortunately I do,” (Y/N) gasps, feigning hurt as she clutches at her heart.

   “I’m hurt, wounded,” Bucky chuckles as he wraps his arms back around (Y/N)’s waist, smiling as he squeezed them gently. “No, stop, I’m mad at you,” (Y/N) laughs as Bucky nuzzles his scruffy face in the crook of her neck, tickling her gently. “Bucky, stop, we have to make breakfast!” (Y/N) whispers harshly to the soldier but her smile betrayed her tone.

   “If you keep yellin’ like that you’re gonna wake the kids up,”

   “Yeah, and it’ll be your fault-” (Y/N) smiles as she waddles towards their fridge, dragging Bucky with her as he refused to let go of her waist. “I thought you said you were helping,” (Y/N) smirks as she reaches for the milk and eggs, holding them both in one hand while the other retrieved a small pack of bacon.

   “I am,” Bucky chuckles as he grips (Y/N)’s hips gently.

   “Then get me some flour and salt,” Bucky smiles as he presses a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek before sauntering off to retrieve all the necessary items for waffles.

   Bucky’s hand stalls as he reaches for a bag of sugar- He stared at the metal plating, stained with years of wear and tear, bodily fluids, and plenty of chalk and paint from both Steve and his children. It didn’t seem like too long ago when he’d used that same hand to choke innocent victims, it didn’t seem like years ago when one day a certain woman came up to him, held his hand, and begged him to help her. That’s how he had met (Y/N). She was being followed by a few shady men and she came to Bucky’s side for comfort. She didn’t even know him, he looked like an ex con for fucks sake and yet she still took his hand and begged for help. He remembered looking into those shining eyes of hers and feeling his heart clench as he was met with a fearful gaze. She begged him to pretend to be her boyfriend, which he gladly did.

   They had walked around, stopped at a cafe, talked, and eventually stopped at Central Park. Bucky was having such a fantastic time that he didn’t even notice when the men stopped following the two of them, and apparently so did (Y/N).

   “They stopped,” (Y/N) had whispered as she looked around the park. “Oh my god, thank you so much Bucky, thank you so, so, so much. How can I repay you?”

   “How about a real date, one where we don’t have to worry about men following us around?” Bucky knew it was a long shot, he was the infamous winter soldier after all, there was no way (Y/N) would ever agree-

   “I’d love that,” (Y/N) had whispered, giving his hand a good squeeze. It was in that moment Bucky realized for the first time in forever he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t afraid he was going to hurt (Y/N), he wasn’t afraid that hydra was lurking around the corner, he wasn’t afraid of what the next mission would be, for once he could finally just be.

   “Buck, I need that sugar,” (Y/N) smiled tenderly at Bucky as she held a whisk in her hand, parts of it dripping in thick batter.

   Bucky clears his throat as he reaches for the sugar, snatching it up before handing it to (Y/N).

   (Y/N) had given him a second chance. He had been a broken shell, something of the man he once used to be but when (Y/N) showed up the pieces slowly started to fall back into place. He didn’t feel so scared anymore, he slowly adopted the old Bucky Barnes back into his life, the fun, playful, loving one that everyone had missed so much. (Y/N) had given him a second chance at life.

   “Daddy!” Three high pitched voices break him away from his thoughts. Three pairs of feet hit the hardwood as Bucky’s kids come barreling after him; Elizabeth, Collin, and Ben. Ben and Collin were his first two kids, twins, and Elizabeth was the youngest, daddy’s princess.

   All three kids latch onto Bucky immediately, shouting happily as they climb all over him. Bucky laughs as he picks up Elizabeth and Ben, letting Collin climb (more like Jump) up onto his back.

   “Yeah, yeah, daddy missed you too you goofballs,”

   “Daddy, I drew you a bunch of pictures!” Elizabeth cries happily, pointing to the fridge with a small finger. Bucky looks surprised as he looks at them, smiling widely when Elizabeth giggles.

   “They’re beautiful baby,”

   “Daddy! I finally hit our baseball into that meadow!”

   “Did you now?” Bucky looks at Ben, who was looking up at his father adoringly.

   “Oh yes he did, he went in to retrieve it and I couldn’t find him for half an hour,” Bucky laughs as (Y/N) continues to whisk and fold the batter.

   “And Collin,” Bucky tilted his head backwards, smiling at his son. “What have you been up to Buddy?”

   “Mommy’s been teaching me how to read big boy books!”

   “Like what?”

   “Harry- Harry-”

   “Harry potter?”

   “Yes!” Colin smiles excitedly.

  “That’s so cool!”

  “Yeah!” Collin nods as he wraps his arms around Bucky’s head, making it impossible to see anything.

   “Kids, why don’t you go play on the swing and daddy will come play once breakfast is almost done?” The children squeal happily as they jump off Bucky, rushing to the back door and out into their endless backyard.

   Bucky smiles fondly as he watches them scurry off, his heart clenching just a bit. Years ago he never would have believe he’d settle down, get married, have a family, he had been too dangerous for that but here he was, making breakfast for his wife and children and in his own home too, not some tower or sanctuary, his own home with rooms and a kitchen and a backyard.

   Bucky can feel the tears burn at his eyes but he ignores them for now. Instead he wraps his arms around (Y/N) once again as his lips find purchase on her temple.

   “Thank you,” Bucky whispers hoarsely, making it obvious he was on the verge of tears. (Y/N) immediately looks at him, her beautiful eyes shrouded in worry.

   “What for?” Bucky smiles gently as he rubs his nose against (Y/N)’s, inhaling her comforting scent deeply.

   “For giving me a second chance,”

Tethered Down

Vlad isn’t used to being interrupted while working in his lab. Its walls are reinforced lead and its ceiling is buried twenty feet below basement level. The room is missing from the building plans, invisible to the code specs, and inaccessible to any snooping government agents. The Guys in White’s detection equipment has never found it. They would have better luck finding some hollowed out space by banging on the side of their own heads.

So when Vlad hears the clatter of tripped-over machine parts and light, breathy cursing from behind him, he knows no normal person has come to find him. This makes him crack a razor-fanged smile. Vlad lowers the welding torch he’d been using to stitch some metal parts together for a new portal hub. He raises the goggles from off his red eyes, and turns around in mock formality.

“Daniel you should have told me you were coming. I would have put some tea on for the both of us.”

Vlad is right—Danny is standing at the other end of the lab, but he doesn’t look how Vlad had pictured. No jumpsuit, no balled-up fists, no murderous green glinting eyes. Danny is entirely human, and he looks only a bit bothered, like he’s thinking too hard about what to say.

“Vlad,” Danny settles on.

Vlad’s smile doesn’t waver. He takes a few steps forward, boots clacking out hollow sonorous beats on the cavernous floor. Danny seeking him out is almost always a treat. It means he’s done something to annoy or frustrate or enrage Danny enough to be sought out without any effort on Vlad’s part. It’s already a victory of sorts for Vlad, and he’s eager to know what he’s done.

Vlad spreads his arms, as if to encompass the far wall of enormous floating monitors, the pink-swirling portal in the back left corner, the tables and shelves filled with cobbled-together metal gadgets. Vlad glances down. There are three empty toppled paint cans at Danny’s feet, clearly tripped over and just now settling.

“So, to what do I owe this delight? Have you come to hear about my specs for the new Maddie AI? Or maybe you’d like to hear about my recent cloning breakthroughs. Or—“ Vlad swoops in closer, circling Danny, delighting in the way Danny’s head whips about to follow his motions, “—is there something else even better you’d like to discuss?”

“Something else.”

Vlad frowns just slightly. There’s no passion in Danny’s voice, rare for a kid motivated almost entirely by his unstable emotions. There’s no fire in his eyes either. No accusation or quick remark lashing from his tongue. Danny’s eyes are calm, and his tone is simply flat.

“What, then?” Vlad asks, and he loses the traction of their banter.

“I went on a college visit yesterday.”

Vlad pauses. He’s half-stooped over Danny, expecting more to be said. Vlad finds himself with nothing to go on. “…Okay,” he says.

“I like the place a lot. And people with my grades get in there all the time. Especially if I keep them up for the rest of junior year I stand a good chance.”

“What place?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Then why are you telling me.” Vlad slides away from Danny. His hope of being cursed out is fading, and his brow furrows. His face brightens at a sudden thought, “Did you feel the urge to tell me because I’ve simply become a sort of father figure to you?”

“I want to go there. It’s three hours away by car. One and a half by the Fenton RV, but that’s with my dad driving.” Danny’s voice has become clinical, like the very words are tedious, like he’s talking to a customer service representative and he’s bored. “And it’s an hour away if I fly.”

“Get to the point Daniel. I’m a busy man.”

“No you’re not. You just have a lot of creepy pet projects.” Danny motions stiffly to the pod-like vats that once contained Danny’s old clones. “My point is I can’t keep super-heroing if I go there.”

“Ah,” Vlad brightens again. He leans in. “A crisis then? A conflict of character, of morality, and you’ve come to me for advice? You’re desperate to know if you can hang up your cape to chase a dream so banal as a normal college life?”

“God—no—shut up just a minute. Not everything’s that dramatic.” Danny leans away, sizing Vlad up. “My angsty teenage phase has been over for like a year. And what are you, like, 40? Chill out for like five minutes, for once.”

Vlad deflates a little, frowning.

Danny clears his throat to continue. “I’m not ‘hanging up my cape’. I’m not making any rash decisions. I’m just going to college, because that’s what I want to do, for me. And I’m doing it. I’ve still got my own life to live. But that means I’m not around Amity to help with the ghost patrol.”

“You’d willfully leave them unprotected, hmm?”

“Please. Mom and Dad are still kicking ghost ass in the meantime. And I’m not that irresponsible. I’m hiring a replacement.”

“Oh…who? Valerie?”

Danny snorts. “Hell no. She’s got a full ride to some college out in Michigan for field hockey. She’s getting the hell out like I am.” Danny’s face sobers. “No, I’m hiring you, Vlad. You’re going to pick up whatever slack I leave behind, got it?”

Vlad’s face splits into a grin, and he barks a laugh. Then he throws his head back and roars, teeth glinting, eyes deeply red and alight. He regains his composure with a few rolling chuckles, and fixes Danny with a condescending smirk. “Oh, adorable. You think you can make me do what you want.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Can’t.”

“Can,” Danny answers firmly. “Because if you refuse, then I’m going back home, and the second I get through that front door, I’m doing this.” Danny straightens his shoulders just a fraction, and a glimmering white ring splits at his midsection, enveloping him, repainting him as something sallow and yet bright, cold and yet flickering hot, dead and so monstrously alive. And in some ways, he looks exactly the same. “I realized I don’t care about keeping my secret anymore, really. Mom and Dad accept Phantom as a helper way more often than they ever try to shoot at him, and they’d accept me. And I don’t think it would really change much anymore. I’m not 14 anymore. I could handle letting them know.”

Vlad’s jaw is tight. “…So?”

“So that’s where we’re different, V-man.” Danny flashes a condescending smile to match the one Vlad had worn. “You can’t dare to let them know. The Wisconsin Ghost? You? God, it would end you. My parents, and the town, and the government—they’d all be at your throat in an instant. You’d lose everything.” Danny rocks back on his heels. “And I’ll out you in a heartbeat if you give me a reason to. Because you don’t hold any leverage against me anymore, Vlad. I’ve grown up, and I’m over it.”

“You don’t…mean that,” Vlad answers slowly, dumbly.

“I do.” Another flash, and the rings sweep past Danny to reveal the simple body of a human once more.

“…Just for college?” Vlad doesn’t like the edge in his voice, the quiet anxiety. “Four years?”

Danny shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll come back home after college if it turns out ghost hunting is the thing I wanna do with my life. Maybe I won’t.” Danny steps forward, encroaching on Vlad, suddenly taller and surer than Vlad had ever seen him. “I’ll be home during breaks—I’m sure I’ll happily pick up the ghost hunting then. But maybe I’ll get an internship somewhere? Maybe I’ll take a term abroad, you know? Maybe I’ll stay a whole lot of years more and get my PhD in astrophysics. ‘Dr. Fenton’, like my mom. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

“You wouldn’t…” Vlad mutters. “Who says I’ll keep doing it that long, hmm?”

“Go ahead. Break your promise whenever. But the second you do, I’m giving your identity to everyone I know. And besides. You’re not going anywhere anyway.” Danny takes a few steps back, and motions around him. “This? Your whole secret lair down here? You’ve tethered yourself to this place. You’ve got no family anywhere, and you’ve got no ambitions in your life that don’t involve me or my mom. You’re 40 and you’re sad and you’ve made your bed here and I know you don’t intend to go anywhere else, even with all your money, because what purpose would you even have anywhere else, Vlad? You could do this for the rest of your life, picking up my slack. You just might.”

Danny flashes to ghost form again, and kicks off into the air, and hovers up to the ceiling from which he entered.

“Me, Vlad? I’m young, and I’ve got my life ahead of me, and I can still do something with it. I’m everything you’re not.”

Vlad says nothing. He only stares. He hears only static in his ears.

“See you later, or maybe never again, Fruit Loop.”

3

The red paladin scarf is done! This just an example of what the final scarves will look like, since it came out the slightest bit wonky. Final scarves will have same length fringe, a larger paladin crest, and a more even stitching on of blue. I’m really proud because that paladin crest doesn’t have a pattern that exists anywhere, so I had to make it up and work out all the kinks.

My etsy store is open! Find me at Crochetron! First thirty orders receive a small, shippy bracelet as well for free! I’ll be offering both ship and solid paladin scarves, Allura included. I can’t wait to work with you all!

Dark Nights (Part 5)

Summary: Dean is recovering after going after the Alphas and gets a chance to have some calm time with the reader for once…

Dark Nights Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language

A/N: A little bit of softer side with the boys…

Keep reading

Okay (Jason ToddxReader)

Requested: No
Word Count: 959
Summary: Jason comes in from a rough night of patrol for you to clean him up.

Warning! Blood and gore mentioned!

The sound of a falling chair snapped you out of you light sleep. You glanced at the digital clock on your nightstand, it was 4am. You relaxed slightly as you realized Jason hadn’t come home yet, but you were still on alert as you crawled out of bed and slipped your favorite silk robe onto your shoulders. While normally, you wore at least one of Jason’s t-shirts to bed, this night it was hot and you wore only your underwear beneath the robe. You armed yourself with the baseball bat you kept by your nightstand and made your way into the kitchen area.

Jay?” you called out softly as you left the bedroom.

“Hey, baby girl, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he spoke up. His voice was thick with pain. You frowned and switched on the light. Sitting in the floor in a puddle of blood was one Jason Todd. You gasped and let your eyes search him over. You grabbed the closest first aide kit of the seven you had stashed around the apartment. You dropped to your knees next to hi.

“I’m ok, doll, go back to sleep,” he slurred. You simply shook your head and pulled his helmet from his head. His face was as perfect as ever, however there was a small cut that bled from his bottom lip. You made a mental note to come back and clean it up, but moved on to locate his more severe injuries.

You peeled off his brown leather jacket and found a bullet wound in his right shoulder. Upon further inspection, you found another would in his left thigh. You cursed softly to yourself as you began cutting away the fabric of his uniform.

I’m okay,” he repeated for the millionth time. You chose to just ignore his new chant and found the exit wounds on both shots. You sighed in relief because, while you had more stitching to do, you didn’t have to dig out any bullets. You began stitching him with practiced expertise. You placed a bandage over each wound once it was cleaned and sutured.

“I’m okay,” he chanted as his head leaned against the floor.

Stop telling me you’re okay, Jason,” you finally snapped at him. “You’re bleeding out on our kitchen floor,” you bit back angrily. You took a calming breath before going back to work. You could feel his eyes trying to focus on you.

You’re so beautiful,” he grinned goofily. You narrowed your eyes at him but continued to patch his remaining minor injuries. Once you were satisfied with your work, you managed to pull the now half naked man into the bathroom. You fully removed the remaining scraps of his clothing and began to gently clean the blood and dirt from his skin. He hummed softly in his blood-loss haze as your fingers spread through his hair.

“I love you, sunshine,” he mumbled in his half conscious state. You sighed as you gave him another look over. He was completely nude and covered in more scars than she ever cared to count. He had bandaged scattered across his body and fresh bruises along with faded yellow ones.

“I love you, too, Jay,” you admitted. It was the truth, you were an utter fool for the man in front of you. Once you deemed him clean enough, you helped him pull on fresh boxers and helped him into their shared bed.

Stay with me,” he requested weakly, he was beyond exhausted at this point.

Until forever ends, Jay,” you answered as you sat by his side. You brushed your fingers through his dark messy hair with it’s single white streak. You hummed softly as you did everything you knew to soothe Jason to sleep.

Once he was out soundly, you stood and kissed his forehead gently. You made your way back to your dining room area and frowned. It was a complete disaster area. It was the worst state you’d see it in, but you would once again be scrubbing blood from the tile grout.

You started with the first aid kit. You packed the kit, making sure everything was organized the way it was before. As soon as it was neat, you put it back in it’s place in the kitchen. You threw out the empty packages and soiled gauzes. You turned on the tap and started filling the mop bucket with hot, soapy water. You grabbed a fresh sponge and settled on your knees with the mess before you.

You scrubbed for a total of three hours until the dining room was entirely spotless and disinfected. It was when you were putting away the cleaning supplies that you realized you had fresh blood stains on your favorite silk robe and all over your exposed skin. You made your way to the bathroom, exhaustion from the adrenaline wearing off setting in. There were blood stains here and there in the bathroom. You cleaned them up quickly before starting the shower.

You watched as the blood ran off of your body and down the drain. It was becoming a common sight in your life and it almost bothered you that it didn’t bother you anymore. It was always so much blood. You couldn’t help but consider for a brief moment if this was really what you wanted for your life. You wondered what your life would have become if Jason had never made his place in it. You shook your head vigorously, water pouring over your face.

You loved Jason. No amount of blood or bullet wounds would change the fact that he was everything you wanted. He was worth the blood stained robes and the bright red that washed down the drain. He would always be worth it.

Whump prompts which are close to my heart

“That does not sound healthy.”

“Call it Plan B if you like. Hell, call it Plan Z. But I am packing the good drugs.”

“I don’t need to be able to stand. I just need to be able to shoot.”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.”

“I promise you: your head is the only thing spinning right now.”

“Oh god… is that… <I>blood</I>?”

“I’ll do this if it kills me.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“[Character]’s fine! You’re the one with the bullet holes!”

“This? This is just a scratch. I’ve had worse from my sister’s kitten. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home safe if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I don’t know… I’ve never seen [character] like this before.”

“[Character], please, I don’t have energy to waste arguing with you.”

“I don’t need your misplaced concern. I need to get the job done. You need me to get the job done.”

“Mercenary isn’t a career that comes with health insurance.”

“I’m gonna regret asking this, but, uh… why are you so good at giving yourself stitches?”

“I will not be the one who slows us down.”

“Uh… didn’t you also donate blood this morning? Because this is really terrible timing.”

“Don’t worry about [character], he’ll be fine. I’ve seen him take out a small army while he had a cracked skull and a broken arm. This is just a bit of a scratch/virus/overexertion.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. The fuck are you doing?! Were you raised by wolves? When you are this sick, you do <I>not</I> get out of bed. And you sure as hell do not come into work.”

“You know, normal people listen to medical advice.”

“Tell me this is not the first time someone’s made you soup.”

“When’s the last time you ate? Or even slept?”

“Do you have a headache or something?”

“Pain… is just… a construct of… the mind…”

“What could possibly go wrong?“

“Fuck… this is so above my pay grade.”

“Ok, I need you to hold me still while [character] works. Don’t let go. Not even if I scream. Not even if… not even if I beg.”

“No, don’t. Please… please don’t. Please stop! Please!”

youtube

When most people talk about some of the best Samurai Jack moments, I never see this one brought up. This bit had me in fucking stitches first time I saw it, and the delivery still cracks me up.

@squigglydigglydoo

Don’t Tell Me You Actually Doubted Me

Marvel (Doctor Strange) One Shot

Characters: [GENDER NEUTRAL] Reader x Stephen Strange

Warnings: injury, blood, swearing and mentions of death

Request: “hi. can you please(if it’s not botherting you) write something about reader and dr. strange, where reader is injured and doctor lost his ring, and the reader needs surgery. and he had to do it himself? sorry for my english:)” - Anon

Word Count: 1,159

A/M: Your english is fine !!! Thank you for requesting, I think this is the first Doctor Strange request !

Keep reading

Open Wide

Pairing: Ben Platt x MedStudent!Reader

Warning: like 2-3 curse words 

Request: “Heyyy! Would you do a Ben platt x med student reader! Thanks!!!”

Word Count: 1423

Note: ((the title is so misleading but no this isnt smut i just couldn’t think of another title sorry)) this was shorter than i expected and THIS IS SO STUPID IM SO SORRY its not exactly med school material bc i know nothing but i just really had to do this lmao i hope y’all like this one !

MASTERLIST


Your hands were starting to get tired, fingertips slightly numb, and neck aching from looking down at your current subject right in front of you. 

“Just a few more stitches,” You consoled yourself, tongue sticking out a bit as you concentrated.

You were trying so hard to keep your hands steady and unfortunately, the stare that Ben’s been giving you for the last fifteen minutes from across the room did nothing but made you feel pressured to finish faster. 

“Ben,” You started, making one loop after another with the suture.”You’re staring, darling.”

Ben cleared his throat as he stood up from his chair. He made his way to the couch, gently sitting down beside you as to not move you. He leaned closer until you felt his warm breath hitting the back of your neck.

“What if it’s a tumor?” He whispered quietly. You rolled your eyes.

“Not this again.”

“This is no joking mater, Y/N! What if it’s a tumor in my throat?” He whined.

“It’s isn’t, I’m telling you.” You say slowly and quietly, focusing on your stitches.

He buried his face in his hands. “Oh God. It’s the nodes, isn’t it? I’m gonna have to undergo throat surgery.”

His leg started to bounce up and down, the motions making the couch move as well. You slapped his leg lightly. “Benjamin Platt, stop moving too much. You’re gonna mess up my sutures.”

“I don’t understand why we’re not talking about this!”

“Because we already had this conversation thirty minutes ago. Didn’t I tell you to take your medicine?”

“I did! But it didn’t do shit.”

“Obviously, it takes time for the medicine to metabolize into your body.”

“Just tell me, sweetheart. I won’t be mad. I just have to know.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek. He was making a big deal out of this thing. He was rubbing your back softly, urging you to tell him “the truth”. He refuses to believe what he had was something as simple as this.

Ben was a bit of a hypochondriac, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how much coincidental that the two of you ended up being together. Who knew? A hypochondriac and a third year medical student, dating for two years.

You sigh, looking up from the grapes you were practicing your stitches on before facing him. “Ben, you have a cold.”

He threw his arms up. “It doesn’t feel like a cold!”

You chuckled. “Sure, Ben. Whatever you say.”

“You’re no doctor yet! You can’t just dismiss me like that!” He pouts.

“Under this roof, I’m the closest person you have to a doctor,” You spoke before pointing to the man who was devouring a bag of Doritos from the other side of the room. “Unless you want Will to be the one to attend to your concerns.” You continued.

Will turned his head around as he stared at Ben dead in the eyes “Cut his throat out.”

Ben’s eyes widened at the violent remark. “Okay, definitely not consulting him. But can you please make sure one last time that it is just a cold?”

You sigh in defeat. You stood up, walking towards him until you were positioned in between his legs while he was sitting down. He placed his hands on your hips. You gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’m telling you, darling. You’re alright.”

Your fingers traced and palpitated the area below where his jaw met his ear. You moved your fingers in slow circle motions, trying to determine how enlarged his lymph nodes are. 

“Okay, your lymph nodes are a bit swollen but that’s expected because you do have colds.” You tell Ben. He nodded in response. “Is that it?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.” You reached for the penlight from the back pocket of your jeans.

You twisted your torso to look behind you. “Does anyone have a popsicle stick or something?” You yell out. 

Mike looked up from his phone, holding a popsicle stick to his mouth. He pulled it out of his mouth and you could see a bit of ice cream residue. “This good enough?” He yelled back. 

You nodded. “That will do!” 

“Alright. Just give me a second,” He started.

“You’re not putting that in my mouth.” Ben protested right away, facing you then slowly facing Mike.

When Mike heard Ben, a sinister grin started to form on his face. He slowly licked the popsicle stick clean, licking it more than necessary. All this was done with him staring Ben dead in the eyes.

Ben looked up to you. “Like I said, you will not put that it my mouth.”

“Babe, I’m going to have to if you want me to actually check what’s going on with your throat.” You giggled, running your hand through his hair.

But it has his saliva on it. That’s not hygienic.” He said, watching as Mike handed you the popsicle stick. 

Mike laughed doing so. “It was nice working with you, Y/N.” He said as he snickered. “I love you, man. I do this out of love.” He told Ben.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

You flicked him on the nose. “Don’t be mean! I didn’t say i was going to directly put it in your mouth. I’m going to put plastic on it.”

You tuned around again. “Okay, anybody have like a plastic glove or just plain old plastic? Anything as long as it’s clean!” You yelled, holding the popsicle stick in one of your hands.

Will slowly raised his hand. “Uhm, I got a condom in my wallet.”

“No.” Ben immediately said.

“Yes, Will. Hand it to me.” He simply laughed, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out a foil-packaged condom, tossing it to you before grabbing his phone. “I’m documenting this.”

Ben’s eyes widened, facing Will. “No, you won’t.” He faced you. “And you are not putting a condom in my mouth.”

“Dude, c’mon. It prevents people from getting STDs so I’m pretty sure it’s going to prevent you from contracting anything that Mike has in the moment.” Will snorted, as Mike let out a laugh.

“But-” Ben started.

“This is for your career, Ben.” Mike teased as you opened up the packaging, rolling the condom on the popsicle stick.

Ben took in a deep breath. “Fine.” The two boys cheered while you hushed them, still chuckling at what’s about to happen.”

“Open wide.” You say. You pushed his tongue down with the stick as he did, using the light to inspect his throat.

“Isn’t that something that Ben would normally say?” Ben almost gagged on the stick, blushing hard on the comment.

“Shut up, Will. You’re not helping.” 

The three of you watched as Ben’s face contorted with shock. “Oh my God, it tastes so minty. It’s like toothpaste.”

Will laughed as he started to walk to where the light switches were. “That’s not even the best part yet.” He shut the lights.

“Ooooh, it glows in the dark.” You and Mike said at the same time, genuinely impressed.

Ben started swatting his hands around as he whined with the stick still holding his tongue down. You quickly removed the stick. You placed the penlight back to your pocket and he looked at you, waiting for you to talk. He let of his hands fall from your hip and held your free hand instead.

“Okay. Good news, Ben. Your tonsils look fine, your throat is clear. You just have to drink lots of fluids and wait ‘till the medicine kicks in.” You bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. “It really is just the cold.” 

He lets out a sigh in relief. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He tilted his head upwards in attempt to give you a kiss on the lips. 

You pressed a finger against his mouth. “Nice try, Ben. That shit’s still contagious. I can’t afford to be sick. I have a practical exam tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t mean I still couldn’t do this.” He started peppering your face with kisses.

You were giggling in his arms when both of your phones vibrated at the same time. You pulled away to check while Ben continued to press kisses onto your face.

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was. “Oh, you will not be happy with this.” You mumbled, facing your phone towards Ben for him to see.

Will uploaded the video of the entire thing on Instagram for the whole world to see. Ben stared at the post in horror.

“Tonsillitis would have been better than this.”

Looking Awful (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: Peter knocks on Y/N’s window late at night hurt.

Word Count: 1.7k (I guess I just really like 7 haha)

Warnings: None, I think, but I don’t exactly consider it fluff.

AN: I used a different writings technique, I’m using “I” instead of “You” so idk, tell me which one you like the most.


It was around 2 a.m. when a tap on your window disturbed your deep sleep. You sat on your bed adjusting your sight to see the person behind the window. Turns out it was Peter, standing on the balcony with his Spider-Man suit on and mask in hand. I couldn’t see clearly, one, because of the dim light and two, because I had just woke up.

I opened the window and he got in quietly, oddly quiet, so I walked to the lamp on my nightstand and turned it on. I spinned on my heels to face Peter and I was shocked.

He looked terrible, with cuts bleeding on his face and purplish bruises forming on the end of his jaw bone. I walked closer to him so I could get a better look of him. I touched carefully his cheek were the biggest cut was, just as my finger got in contact with the cut on his skin, he flinched and grabbed my wrist with his hand.

“Peter, what in the world happened to you?!” I whispered shouted because my parents were asleep. Once I said that, he let go of my wrist. His cuts looked painful and they needed help.

“There was a robbery downtown, they were two guys, I had only seen one of them, so when I was fighting, the other one appeared with a knife.” He scratched the back of his neck looking at me with a sorry look.

“Peter, you need help, really soon, the cuts look dangerous. I think you should go to the hospital.” I said worried, the cuts were bleeding.

“I can’t go to the hospital Y/N, they will ask a lot of questions,” He had a concerned look, I knew how important it was for him to keep his identity as a secret “I can’t go to May either, she will get a heart attack when she sees me.”

“Are you saying that you want me to clean your cuts?” I was scared because I had never been on a situation like this before and I didn’t knew anything about medical care.

“Could you, please?” He begged in pain, I hope I don’t screw him more than he already is. He convinced me with begging eyes, but I wasn’t so sure of it, but if I could help him in any way, then I’ll try my best.

We both went to the restroom where the first aid kit was, behind the mirror. I took it out of the little mirror door and closed it carefully so it didn’t make a sound. I glanced at Peter and he was already sitting on top of the toilet, with his head thrown back in an act of tiredness. I started taking out the basic things, alcohol, cotton balls, bandages, pain reliever pomade.

He turned his head and looked towards me, I thought that I had to clean the blood that was already dry in his face, so that’s what I did. I grabbed a towel laying on the holder and lightly damped it. I started to lightly dab it around the cuts, where there was blood until his silky skin was visible.

His eyes were monitoring my face, I tried not to notice it too much because I would grow nervous, and that’s the last thing I want now.

I finished cleaning his face and neck and placed the now slightly red, towel on the sink with the water running, tinting the white sink with a crimson color.

We were both silent, kind of an awkward silence, but neither of us decided to break it, we were tired to start a talk, plus, we weren’t the only ones on the apartment.

I grabbed a cotton ball from its bag and poured alcohol on it. Peter had a worried look on his face, and watched my every move. I came closer and his eyes drifted from me to the cotton ball.

“This will hurt a bit,” I told Peter. He took a deep breath. I dragged the cotton ball to the cut he had on the right side of his cheek, it was a little deep, but not enough to get stitches, about an inch long, going diagonally ending on his hairline. He hitched to the contact of the alcohol, and when he did I retracted my hand in reflex.

“It’s okay Y/N, I can handle it.” He looked up through his lashes because of the height difference, since I was standing and he was seated.

So I took another breath and continued dabbing the cotton ball with along the smaller cuts on his face. He hitched every now and then, even though I was scared, I still found his faces extremely adorable.

I rubbed some pomade along my fingers to warm it up for it to be easier to apply, I moved my fingers gently a long the cuts and the, now turning greenish-blue, bruise on the left side of his jaw, his eyelids slowly flickering from my sudden movement, relieve shown on his factions, then I started putting band aids on his cuts so they wouldn’t get infected later on.

I placed all the things inside the first aid kit, closed it and place it inside the mirror in front of the sink, I grabbed the towel that I used earlier and drained all the water that it had consumed until it was the same color before I had dabbed it on his face, then placing it in the shower holder so it could get dry, I felt his eyes on me the whole time.

I turned around and stood inside his legs, I touched his face and moved it with my index finger so I could get a complete view of how his face looked.

I moved my hands from his face to his shoulders, gave a little squeeze and rested them there, “I think that’s better,” he looked up to me and nodded lightly with his eyes closed. I motioned him to get out of the restroom before I turned the lights off.

We walked in total silence to get to my room, when we got there, he glanced at the clock, it marked 2:43, he grabbed me by the wrist to turn me around.

“Yes?” I said confused by the sudden movement, a hand in his chest and the other one being held by Peter.

“I have to leave, it’s getting late, I have to get there before May notices,” he whispered, letting a few seconds without saying anything between every idea, now the rolls were different, he towered on me lightly and I had to look up.

“Or you could stay here, it’s not like you have never done it before,” I looked up to him waiting for his answer, so I continued, “You have spare clothes here, you can change clothes and stay the night here.” I ran my hands nervously over his shoulders, picking at the black outlines of his suit, now feeling mousy to see him in the eye.

“Why do you want me to stay?” He said trying to find my gaze, my eyes went wide open, mouth slightly agape, I hadn’t expected him to ask that, but I soon recovered and thought about my reply.

“Well, other than the fact that it’s almost three a.m. right now, and you’d be swinging around half of the city, it’s quite dangerous,” I fidgeted with the fabric on his suit, running my finger in repetitive circles, somewhat embarrassed, not meeting his eyes.

“Oh, so you’re saying that you’re worried about me?” I could feel his smirk even if I wasn’t watching him, was he laughing at me?

“Well, of course Peter, plus, if you see something wrong while at it, you are capable of stopping by and see what’s off., and all the work that I just did, would just go to waste.” I don’t know why but I really wanted him to stay, “you can go early in the morning, before May wakes up,” he had a smile plastered on his face, it was charming, but it made me laugh internally because he looked funny with all the bandaids and glowy skin due to the pomade.

“You’ve convinced me, lets go,” I shyly smiled at him. We got inside my room and started looking in the darkness, for the pair of clothes that he had left the previous time he had crashed in, until he turned the lamp in the night stand on.

And then I hear a sizzle coming behind me, like a button had just been clicked, so I turn around and see Peter with his suit no longer fitted to his skin. I couldn’t help but stare at his body after he wiggled his arms to get it out and proceeding to hit the floor.

I continued looking for his clothes before he noticed I had been staring. I kept looking until a pair of black sweats and a grey shirt appeared in sight. So I took them out of the pile and went to give them to Peter.

I turned around and saw him sitting on the duvet with his back arched in an tired manner laying in only his boxers. I cleared my throat to make him notice me, “here, you can change in the restroom, if you want to,” but I hadn’t even finished my sentence and he turned around, already putting his sweats on, “or here…” I mumbled under my breath.

Once he had put his shirt on, I got inside the bed. He turned the lamp off and I felt the bed dip from the weight beside me, I was almost drifting asleep for the second time tonight, when I felt an arm hugging me, right in the middle of my stomach, he pulled me close until his chest and my back were touching, “good night Y/N,” he whispered in my ear, his arms holding me loosely and melting me with his warmth, “night Peter.”

And as easy as that I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. I woke up to what I felt a few hours later, I glanced with tired eyes at the clock that read 7:15 in the morning, with Peters’ body long gone…


I hope you like it, this has honestly been on my mind since like forever and it’s just somewhat a fantasy because I just think the plot is really cute, send feedback and ask for a request if you want, thank you for reading!! ♥️
Gotta Go Fast

Overview: Sam helps the reader work on her cardio… “helps.”

Characters: SamxReader, Dean being snarky on the side

Word Count: 1,526

Warnings: mild language, tomatoes, running (always a warning), fluffy fluff

A/N: This was written for @pinknerdpanda‘s Birthday Celebration Challenge. The happiest of birthdays to you, my lovely sunflower! My prompt was: I think running is wrong, unless professionally or as a child. I picked this prompt because it resonates within the depths of my soul. Hope you like how all the crazy turned out, Manda ;) (And, as always, special thanks to my letter checkers @wheresthekillswitch & @hannahindie. I would be lost without them.)

“Dean, I’m telling you, a tomato is a fruit.” 

Dean scoffed, “Please. A tomato goes in salad. Salad is rabbit food. Rabbit food is vegetables. It’s a logic circle, Y/N.” He spun his finger in the air to emphasize his geometric statement.

I pushed my mug back and leaned forward on my elbows, “So if it goes in salad, it’s a vegetable? Hands down. No exceptions.”

Dean nodded and took a bite of his scrambled eggs.

“Then explain strawberries in salad. Or, better yet, fruit salad.”

He paused mid chew, took a moment to let my statement sink in, then pointed his fork at me, “Momentary transformation.” 

“So now we have a food identity crisis on our hands?”

“Y/N, I’m telling you-”

“Hey guys.” Sam briskly walked into the kitchen, his entrance stopping Dean from continuing to defend his non-existent correlation.

Keep reading

The five times you see Sam Wilson shirtless

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: A lot of feels.

A/N: Literally inspired in @bovaria​ “The five times you see Dean Winchester shirtless”. My birdman needed some love while I finish the semester and the ton of things I have to do, enjoy!


Originally posted by gweonteam

The first time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was when you were finishing your shower after training. He walked right past you –more like bumped into you—, with his earphones well-secured in his ears and his mouth moving—he was most probably lip-syncing to god knows what. He was sticky and sweaty, and as you fell together, you realized he had been training very hard. You were starstruck and your hands were still on his pecs; his lips were dangerously close to you and you were damn sure you had the funniest and dorkiest face ever.

“My god—I—I’m so sorry!” You babbled once you regained control of yourself and got up on your feet again and helped him up too.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said in a careless manner, “I was not looking and it was my fault. I’m Sam by the way, Sam Wilson…”

“Oh, you’re the new one. Steve’s friend,” you nodded, “it’s good to see you’re accustomed to be here, you’re making your way here and that’s good to see.”

“Well, this is not different from the army, except that I can actually wake up when I want to,” he chuckled, “by the way, you never told me your name.”

“I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you reached out your hand to shake his, “I’ve been here with the team for a while now, I was from SHIELD,” you explained.

“I think I saw you… when agent Hill took us to that secret spot,” he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember it. “You were one of the doctors taking care of us.”

“Yes!” You squealed. “I was indeed, it’s great to have you here as part of us; I’ve seen you in combat and… you’re impressive,” you admitted feeling your cheeks warming up and tainting with a hot pink flush. “Sam, I have to go, Natasha’s waiting for me upstairs. It was very nice to meet you,” you smiled.

“I’ll try to be less distracted when I walk around you,” he slyly said, “take care.”

The first time you see Sam Wilson shirtless, you made a fool of yourself but he didn’t seem to care.


The second time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was at one of Tony Stark’s parties. He was drunk, and golly you pitied him for the hangover he was bound to have the next morning. You were sitting with Natasha while the rest of the males tried to lift up the hammer.

“Oh come on girls!” Sam blurted. “Don’t you wanna know if you’re worthy?”

“No thank you, bird brain,” Natasha replied and turned her head to you, “stop staring at him or he’s gonna notice,” she took the bottle to her lips and smiled knowingly before drinking.

“Notice what exactly?” You rose an eyebrow.

“That you like him, you dork,” the redhead said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t like him,” partially true, “I just like to see him; he’s got some nice ass and a great front to look at,” you said. “Can’t blame a girl for liking those assets,” you shrugged and leaned your head on her shoulder. “What about you and Rogers?” You elbowed her. “That looks steamy, aw!” You teased.

“Yeah, don’t change the topic,” she teased back, “you like Wilson, and I like that; he’s a great guy and you deserve someone like him; you’ve stumbled into too many assholes in the time we’ve known each other—”

Out of a sudden, Tony started playing some random playlist on Spotify, and the first song was Ed Sheran’s “Shape of You”. You looked at Nat and you both started laughing at the two men approaching you; one was Sam and the other was Steve who was not as drunk as his friend. Natasha accepted without further argue; you on the other side, were a bit more reluctant to dance with him, especially when he was shirtless and you were drooling like a dog at Pavlov’s experiment.

“Come on, don’t say no to this song,” he held your hands; they were rough and a bit dry, but his grip was quite gentle, “and try not to say no to me too,” he added.

“Sam, go get dressed, dammit!” You scolded him. “You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“Bullshit,” he clicked his tongue, “now come on,” he tugged at your hands and you accepted to dance with him.

His hands, even though he was completely drunk, were still very respectful and you had to give him a point for that. You held on to his broad –and naked—shoulders and danced the night away. You two even kissed a few times as the songs played and the dancing became a bit heated, but he surely wouldn’t remember a thing of it.

The second time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was not required and probably the most uncomfortable thing ever, but the man had a body and you had functioning eyes, so why not?


The third time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was after a mission. He refused to let his shirt go but you threatened to hit him with some big ass dose of horse tranquilizer so you could rip the fabric away and he reluctantly obliged. You had seen it before, but this was the very first time you had such a close look at it. You could still see the marks of the suit all over his chest and back, some of the scars; the old and the new ones, and the laceration that was causing trouble.

“Sam, if you could please relax…” You sighed, putting on your gloves. “Just a few stitches and you’ll be just fine.”

“It’s not that, (Y/N)… It’s just that it’s the first time you’re voluntarily seeing me like this because I always go with someone else, but they’re all busy today,” he sheepishly admitted, “and we’re not drunk, or distracted,” he looked down at you and you felt a shiver running down your spine; his eyes had never been this fixed on you before it was surely making you a bit uncomfortable and very self-conscious.

“But not the first time I see you shirtless, so suck it up,” you replied in an unfriendly voice. “Sit down and turn around before that thing goes bad,” you ordered. It was the usual procedure: cleaning and clearing, sewing and covering the wound with bandages. Sam winced and tensed when you started the first part. “Sammy, I’m sorry but the sooner we get this over with, the better, okay?” He breathed out heavily and nodded. “Alright, here I go again,” you warned and started stitching him up. He endured the whole process stoically and he didn’t grunt not even once. You softly patted his shoulder to let him know that it was over. “Good boy, you deserve a lollipop,” you giggled, “I’m sure I must have a candy somewhere—”

“Uhh, (Y/N)?” He nervously asked. “I was wondering if you… I don’t know… maybe we could go out one day?” he scratched the back of his neck; needless to say, he hadn’t put on his shirt yet.

“Are you… Are you asking me out?” You asked, rolling all the dirty things you used into one great ball and heading for the trash can. You pursed your lips trying to hold back a childish and nervous titter.

“I mean—yeah, why not?”

“You promise there won’t be any nudity, alcohol or anything that’s not PG-13?” you folded your arms over your chest and rose your eyebrows. You wanted to say yes, of course, but he was not getting a positive answer so fast. “Sam, promise me that,” you urged him.

“Some old Disney movies are going to be played in the park one of these days, would that be okay with you? PG-13 enough?”

“That would be perfect,” you nodded happily. “I like peanut butter sandwiches more than popcorn, and I tend to speak a lot during movies, and if there are songs I know, which is really likely, you can be well damn sure I’m going to sing the hell out of them, so consider yourself warned. I’m the worst person to watch movies with,” you shrugged.

“Warned and taking the risk anyway, so stop putting me off and just go out with me, okay?” He chuckled, sliding down his chest the t-shirt that seemed a bit small, but perfect enough to hug him tightly and reveal his chiseled torso. It was the first time you saw him under such an attentive eye, and you were quite intrigued by the findings.

“You got it,” you breathily laughed, “I’ll write our date down so I don’t forget about it, you happy?”

The third time you see Sam Wilson shirtless got you a date.


The fourth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was after a great night of sleep. You rolled to the other side to find him peacefully sleeping. He groaned and lazily started to stretch as he opened his eyes; he looked at you and smiled.

“What up, naked woman?” He giggled as he saw your uncovered torso; the night had been a long one and for a period it seemed sleepless, but you two run out of energies after some passionate love making and decided to go to sleep without any clothes at all.

“What up,” you replied in a whisper and leaning forward to peck his lips. “Did you have a good night?”

“The best one in years,” he yawned, “and you? Did I interrupt your night of sleep?”

“Not at all, Mr. Wilson,” you bit your bottom lip and snuggled closer.

Things had gotten official between you two the night before; Sam Wilson made the question publicly and you drank until very late with the rest of the team. You hadn’t been this happy in years, and Sam was doing everything in he could to keep you like that, but he didn’t need to try that hard, just being himself was enough.

It was the very first time you asked someone to move in with you, and even though Sam lived with you for a long time, you never invited him to the privacy of your own sanctuary. He had invited you to his room on countless occasions but it always ended up in the walk of shame.

“I just want you to know,” he said, placing a hand on your jaw to cup your face. He stroke gently your cheek, “that I’m really honored for this… I know you’re not the one to share your room,” his nose bumped with yours, “and I hope this is the first night together from many more to come, when we get a place on our own,”

“Is this getting serious, Sammy?” You chuckled. “Because if it is, you could might as well propose to me right now,” you pecked his lips and he helped you getting on top of him. “Oh, someone’s getting excited?” You bit your bottom lip and started rolling your hips gently. Sam pulled you closer for a heated kiss; it felt nice to have his skin so close to you again.

The fourth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was the moment you realized you wanted to be with him for the rest of your life.


The fifth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was on a mission; one that ended abruptly. He’s bleeding a lot and you’re damn sure he won’t make it. Steve’s carrying him in his arms back to the quinjet and you’re following his steps trying hard to keep yourself together. Natasha runs behind you, calling your name to please go back and help her, but Sam is everything you have in mind for now. You know you can’t abandon your job just like that, but you can’t abandon him either.

Steve placed him on the quinjet’s floor and started setting the medical equipment to keep him alive, but the wound was too profound and he was losing a hell lot of blood.

“(Y/N), you either go back and fight, or you’re useful here, but don’t stay there doing nothing,” Steve blurted, ripping you from your thoughts. You kneeled next to him trying to ignore the gushing blood coming out of Sam’s stomach.

You started cutting Sam’s shirt and Steve hurried to press some gauze onto the wound to stop the flow. You took some more fabric and pushed Steve’s hands away. “Don’t die on me, Sammy, don’t you dare,” you threatened, with your voice breaking and your hands shaking. “Sammy talk to me, now,” you cleaned your forehead with your arm while Steve changed the gauze.

“This is gonna leave some big ass scar,” a weak voice startled you. Sam tried to smile and so did you, but the laceration was too big and too scary to even fake. “You know what’s funny?” you shook your head, “I wanted to propose to you today… but I don’t think I can now,” he gulped and winced from the pain. “Steve…may I have a moment?” Steve nodded silently; he placed a heavy hand on your shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Then, with loud steps he got out to meet the rest of the team; the fight was fortunately won by the Avengers and they were all waiting for the diagnose on Wilson’s state. Steve’s face said it all. “I don’t have much time here, gorgeous,” he coughed, “so I’ll try to make it quick. You’re so—so fucking awesome and… I love you, just that…”

“Don’t say it as a goodbye, Wilson—you can’t do that! Not to me!”

“Kiss me as if it was the last time…” He teased. You leaned in to feel him one last time, trying to make his last minutes on earth the happiest ones. “You’ll be just fine without me, you’ve always been anyway,” he smiled lightly and sighed deeply. He slowly closed his eyes until you realized there was no life in that body.

“Sam… Sam, no. Dammit no!” You placed your hands on his chest to shake him, but there was no answer. Loud steps stopped just behind you and a warm hug took you away as you kicked and screamed to be put again next to Sam’s lifeless body. Thor was dragging you back and trying to keep your breaking self together.

The fifth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was also the last one.

A Little Broken, Still Good // Clint Barton x Reader

Anonymous asked: Clint request where the team finds the reader on a mission and saves her and Clint kind of sticks to her like a father figure she never had
Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader (Familial)
Word Count: 2.2k+
Warning: FLUFF, Angst, Language, Dad!Clint, brief mention of death (Post AOU)

A/N: Pietro is alive. That weird family Whedon cooked up doesn’t exist. Reader is an orphan. Also…hmu If you catch that lilo and stitch reference. I’ve come to accept that I will never understand the concept of drabbles. This is unbeta’d and I’m half asleep so I’ll fix errors after I’ve had coffee.

Originally posted by natshasromanoff

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3

So, uh.  Last weekend, @astraldepths came up with a silly art concept in Slack, and @songofsunset spent a moment or two expounding on it, and then they both presumably carried on with their lives as most people would.  I.. am not, in fact, most people, so I Did the Thing instead. =D

Prompt: cross-stitch sudoku
Specifically, an art project where you do the actual puzzle in black, but you stitch the process of figuring it out, step by step, in a bunch of different colors in thread.

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Fighting

Dean x female hunter, reader insert


Warnings: SMUT/NSFW text (if you’re not 18, come back when you are!), mild canon typical violence, adult language


Word count: about 2,100


A/N: Hey y'all!! Sorry it’s been awhile, writer’s block has been killing me! But hey, here’s a little something I finally got around to posting! Hope you enjoy it, cause I spent way too much time trying to get it finished!


This was written for two challenges! The first is for Jenn’s Birthday Challenge! Happy birthday @avasmommy224!! Here’s your SMUT, my quote was, “We must all face the choice between what’s right and what’s easy.”


The other challenge is Katie’s 1K challenge!! Congrats on the followers milestone @casbabydontgoineedyou! My quote was, “Just let it be, we’ll figure it out later.”


Be sure you’re following these two amazing writers, they are totally worthy of your attention!!


Here’s my masterlist for more stories!


XO

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You were sure he’d be furious. You’d jumped in and now you were a bloody mess. If history had taught you anything, it was that Dean Winchester was going to be livid with you. You’d never hear the end of how reckless and dangerous your actions had been, even though you’d saved his ass. Fighting with each other, both of you spewing venomous words, at each other’s throats for hours, was the only way the two of you knew how to release your frustrations and break the always building tension in your friendship.


When Sam had yelled that he needed more time to find the artifact keeping the ancient vengeful spirit around, you dashed into the grand hallway of the mansion where the older brother was being tossed around like a rag doll. The ghost suddenly appeared above Dean, her white Victorian dress billowed around her as she plunged her hand into his chest and he screamed out in agony. Instinctually, you yanked the iron candleholder off the wall and swung it unceremoniously through the woman’s torso and she vanished momentarily.


“Hurry it up, Sammy!” you yelled over your shoulder, before you were violently throw by an unseen force into the wall. The impact was severe enough to shatter the large stained glass window above. You threw your arms up to cover your face and the shards showered down on you, nicking your exposed skin.


The malevolent spirit reappeared, rushing forward, her hands closing in around your throat. She slid you up the wall, fingers crushing your windpipe as your feet dangled inches above the ground. The sound of Dean screaming your name was starting to fade as the blackness began to creep in the edge of your vision. Just as you were about to lose consciousness the ghost erupted in a flash of sparks and flames before disappearing altogether. You came crashing back to the floor, gasping for air.


“Son of a bitch…” Dean was rushing to your side, kneeling haphazardly over the broken glass that surrounded you. “Dammit, Y/N, I thought I told you to stay with Sam…” he said, examining you.


“Yeah, and let you become ghost chow? You’re welcome…” your voice was hoarse, but still forceful. You knew he wasn’t a fan of bringing you along, the two of you spent almost as much time fighting each other as you did fighting evil, but frankly you didn’t give a rat’s ass what he thought. You’d been hunting long before you met the Winchesters and Dean’s shitty attitude wasn’t going to stop you now.


Rather than arguing with you, as you expected, he simply grabbed you by the hands and stood, pulling you up with him, “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.” His unusual calmness made you worry. Fighting is what you and Dean did best and you weren’t used to him conceding this easily.


Once on your feet, you winced painfully as a sharp pain pierced your left side. You lifted your shirt to find a large piece of glass embedded at least two inches deep into your skin right below your last rib.

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Speculation on UMFB Yuuri and his ‘other lovers’

This is obviously one of the key things we all want to know about in Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts- why, exactly, does Viktor think Yuuri has ‘other lovers’ (plural)?  I’ll tell you now, I don’t know the answer.  @kazliin has promised us she’s not subtle and the clues are in UMFB, so I’ve had a good look and this is what I’ve managed to come up with.  Nothing ground breaking I’m afraid!

Let’s break this down, because it’s actually a couple of questions in one.  The first one- we all know Yuuri is a virgin before he gets together with Viktor, so why does Viktor think he has ever had any lovers?  Why doesn’t it cross his mind that he’s the first?  The second part to the question is more difficult: why, at the time when they discuss Yuuri’s ‘other lovers’ in chapter 11, does Viktor think Yuuri is sleeping with multiple other people besides himself?  This is trickier (especially because my re-read has only got as far as chapter 8 so far).  

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Stitches

Pairings: Dean x Sam x John x sister!reader

Summary: the reader is the baby sister of the family and she gets hurt and needs stitches and Dean goes into overprotective brother mode.

Dean’s Age: 14
Sam’s Age: 10
Reader’s Age: 4

Warnings: mentions of blood, needles, big brother Dean fluff



It was another day where John, your father, was out on a hunt and Sam and Dean, your older brothers, were stuck in a motel room, watching you and taking care of you. John came back earlier than expected and you were three were all surprised to see him.

“Daddy!” You exclaimed as you ran up to him with your arms out.

“Hey princess!” John said, smiling and picking you up.

“How was it?” Dean asked, approaching you two. “Well son… I’ll tell ya, it was not easy, but I managed to get it done quickly.” John replied. John set you down on the ground.

“Okay baby, go play while I talk to Dean.” “Otay Daddy.” You said, and happily skipped to where your toys were.

John sat down at the table and Dean followed. Sam came out of the bathroom and walked over to where Dean and your father were sitting. John started to talk about the hunt, he spoke rather quietly so you couldn’t hear. You didn’t know about the family business yet. Meanwhile you were playing with your toys and being a kid. You got up to get something from your duffel when you tripped and hit your head. The conversation between your father and brothers was interrupted by you screaming in pain. John immediately got up and ran over to you, your brothers following close behind.

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