and didn't wear the brace as long as i should have

anonymous asked:

I just sent ask with Bruce Banner and smut but I didn't do anonymous so please ignore that lol

I’m answering the anon one you sent; no worries, sweetie! This was accidentally sort of a longer one too lol I keep getting carried away. 

(Obvious) warning: smut


Bruce was normally so careful with you when it came to sex; gentle caresses, sweet kisses, whispered ‘I love yous’ in the darkness that night offered. He was always nervous about things getting too out of hand, about hurting you, no matter how often you reassured him that you weren’t scared of the other guy. You knew your boyfriend had the control he needed to keep himself in check, but Bruce wasn’t so sure. So, for the time being, your sex life was like a slow burn, full of passion and love. Sure, it was a little repetitive (and if you were being honest with yourself, maybe you craved something more), but it was never boring and you were always satisfied. 

That’s why you were so taken by surprise when Bruce wordlessly led you out of the lab today, turning a few corners through the hallways before dragging you inside a janitor’s closet. He calmly flipped the lights on and locked the door, then turned back towards you, his eyes gleaming in a way that had nothing to do with the other guy. He leaned back against the door, his hands behind his back as he looked you over from a few feet away. 

“That skirt is rather short, Y/N,” he said, his voice hoarse and dripping with lust. You fidgeted, subconsciously tugging it down to cover a little more of your thighs. His eyes followed your movements, and you watched his tongue dart out, swiping over his bottom lip. 

“I just bought it yesterday. I thought you’d like it,” you told him. He breathed in deeply through his nose, letting it out of his mouth noisily before he answered you. 

“I do.” The two of you were silent for a moment, and then suddenly he was right in front of you, his hands roaming your body as he attacked your mouth with his. He turned you around, walking your backwards until your back hit the door. Bruce pulled away from you long enough to touch two fingers to your mouth, tapping at your lips until your opened for him. You used your tongue to wet his fingers, gasping as his other hand hiked your skirt up to your stomach. His fingers left your mouth, drifting down to the hem of your panties, pulling the thin piece of fabric down your thighs. 

“Guess I should wear this skirt more–” Your sentence cut off, your breath hitching when Bruce wasted no time pushing a finger into your wet entrance, pumping in and out twice before adding the second. Your forehead fell to rest against his chest, your hands bracing on his shoulders. “Often,” you finished saying as you panted against him, moving your hips in time with his hand. Bruce’s free hand came up to touch the side of your face, tipping your head up to hungrily capture your lips again, swallowing your moans of pleasure. 

“You have to be quiet, baby,” he mumbled against your mouth, shushing you as you cried out when his fingers caressed your sweet spot. A high-pitched whine clawed its way out of your throat as you felt your orgasm approaching, the heat in your stomach coiling deliciously. Suddenly, Bruce’s movements stopped, withdrawing his hand from you mere seconds before you would have reached your climax. You immediately pouted, your head falling back against the door as you glared at him. You opened your mouth to complain, but stopped when he put a finger against his lips, indicated for you to be quiet. 

“Stark! Have you seen Banner anywhere? I checked the lab for him, but I can’t find him.” You jumped slightly as Steve’s voice came from the hallway, seemingly right from the other side of the door you were leaning against. 

“Haven’t seen him, Cap. He’s probably off with Y/N somewhere. She was dressed to kill today,” Tony responded dryly from nearby, the two of them laughing together. Two sets of footsteps walked down the hallway, further away from where you and Bruce hid. When you were sure they were gone, you burst into laughter.

“That was close,” Bruce said, popping his fingers in his mouth to clean your juices off of him. Your laughter faded, desire flowing through you again. Bruce smiled, lust filling his eyes as he leaned into you, peppering kisses up your neck and jawline until he reached your ear. “We’ll continue this later,” he whispered, pulling your panties back into their proper place and tugging your skirt back down. He unlocked the door, flipped the lights off, and pulled you out of the way so that he could exit the room, leaving you alone, high-strung and tense, and so looking forward to ‘later.’

lazyamara  asked:

I am loving all the IronPanther and WinterIronPanther going around, I mean, I liked IronPanther for a while now I can't even remember where that came from but WinterIronPanther is a recent addition :D anyways I have a prompt for IronPanther: T'challa tries to woo Tony, but Tony is super sceptical about it because T'challa is involved in a lot of business stuff, and whenever Tony was in a relationship with someone in the business world, it didn't end well (Ty & Sunset Bain) they get past it tho..

This is actually my second time trying to write this. I had a bunch of it before and my laptop did this thing and lost it and I got mad. It happens.

Not sure if this is what you wanted; I think the first time I wrote this I got the actual prompt more, but this one is more… idk, bits of it? Ah well. I hope you enjoy, and everyone else that requested I write IronPanther today enjoys!

—-

Rumors of the young Stark Industries CEO would have anyone believe that he was quite the easy catch.

T’Challa would have to disagree. Tony Stark was difficult to not only chase down, but nearly impossible to catch. Just when T’Challa would think he was getting somewhere, Tony Stark would slip away somehow. It was a good thing T’Challa was patient (at least, more so than his sister).

~*~*~

“Shit,” Tony muttered, turning and scanning the room with a bit of desperation. It was too early to deal with Ty, too soon, Tony felt too raw to handle their games. He should have known better, of course, but… well.

Ty may have had a point all the time he claimed to be smarter than Tony. At least business-wise. Tony was probably smarter when it came to creating-

“You look like someone looking for a way out of a trap,” a familiar, uniquely accented voice noted.

Tony turned to it with some relief and a lot of trepidation. Hopefully this wouldn’t be a case of ‘out of the frying pan into the fire’.

Keep reading

Hunter’s Moon Mate

Again, this is for Sterek Week, but I’m kind of late in posting this, so shhhh just pretend it’s still the right day. Also this title is awful and I’m sorry. It’s 1:30am and I am tired. That’s my excuse. Enjoy.

It’s dark save for the light of the full moon, and there’s a sharp chill in the air that makes it a little hard to breathe the faster Stiles runs. He doesn’t stop though, even though there’s a burning in his chest and legs. The wolf howl that echoes in the trees behind him only serves as motivation for him to keep running, ignoring the soreness of his calves, the stings of branches and leaves that hit and scratch him as he passes by.

He asked for this; heck, he wanted to do this, and there was no way he was giving up now.

Keep reading

ficlet: The Watchdog

timballisto said:

I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but there’s a gif set of orphan black if Paul was actually played by Natalie dormer and Sarah-Beth having to deal with femPaul and I’m just saying. That might be a cool drabble or something

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Loretta toddler running to Marco and flashing a sweet smile. Galahad a bit jealous because the little girl didn't choose him.

First Steps

Characters: Marco Adriano, Galahad Woehor, Loretta Cristiano Amodio, Luca Cristiano
Rating: G
Word Count: 704 (oops bby Loretta and papas are so much fun to write)
Summary: Galahad’s been making bets on who’s Loretta’s favourite ever since she began walking.

Part of the 500 Follower Series 


Loretta began walking a little over a week ago. She’s just under a year old and her first steps were taken as they should be, wobbly and unstable but right into the arms of Luca. He was proud, as they all were but since then the members of the Cristiano family, namely Galahad, have been placing bets on who Loretta will stumble over to next.

He seems to think it’s himself, and that’s fine, Marco thinks, he does a great job of taking care of her even if betting money at her expense is a little tasteless. Today is no different, even if Marco is by age supposed to be the immature one, Galahad insists on coaxing him into placing a bet on who Loretta’s favourite is, determined to who she should walk to when confronted with two or more people.

“C'mon, Marco – how much? One hundred? One fifty – ah, I’m so confident I’ll bet a week’s pay that she’ll come running into my arms every time she needs something.”

“I’m… I’m just saying, Galahad, that miss Loretta is too young to be aware of favouritism,” he points out when Galahad places Loretta down on the carpet. The child begins crawling on her hands and knees first before pushing herself up into a stance where she’s able to take a few steps.

“She’s running now,” Galahad explains excitedly. “Have you seen her yet?”

“I have,” agrees Marco, scanning the room for anything hazardous Loretta may pick up and put in her mouth, or anything that could potentially hurt her. “She’s very smart.”

“And strong,” adds Galahad, his chest all but puffed out with pride. “She’s gonna be some force to be reckoned with when she gets older. Little heart breaker.”

“Old man,” Marco teases with a smile. “You sound like a proud father.”

Loretta walks over to her toys but she seems to have little interest in them, and appears to be more content walking to every corner of the room. Blonde strands wind and curl under the bows placed in her hair, the bounce on her shoulders as she walks.

“I feel like one,” Galahad beams. “I’m her favourite after all.”

Marco rolls his eyes and allows Galahad to have that one. He may not have been part of this family long but he loves them as much as he would had he been born into it. He will always respect Galahad and Luca for giving him a place in the world, allowing him to do what he feels is the right thing to do. They take care of him; they take care of each other, and that’s what a family is supposed to be about. The Christianos will always have his admiration and respect, and Loretta will always have his pride.

He notices the toy in Loretta’s path too late for him to make a move, her shoe gets caught in the toy truck and she’s falling with her arms instinctively braced out to catch her fall. Galahad is at her side as she hits the ground, Marco can see that she may have caused an abrasion to her knee from the friction against the carpet during her fall. She starts sniffling, the tears are seconds away from falling and Galahad opens his arms to scoop her up as he soothes her with gentle words.

Loretta doesn’t cry, instead she scurries to her feet and takes off running, right in Marco’s direction. She wears a smile that reads she’s proud of herself if Marco didn’t know any better, and Galahad’s complaining just as Loretta runs into Marco’s open arms. He lifts her up and checks for a skinned knee but it’s not as bad as he thought, just a little bit red.

“But I’m her favourite,” Galahad says dejectedly, with a frown that’s too comical for Marco to have pity. Loretta tightens her grip around Marco’s neck and tucks her head under his chin, snuggling right in like she belongs there.

Marco can’t help the swell of his heart or that his chest suddenly seems too tight to breathe. He smiles then, maybe a little too smug for the occasion and he says, “That’ll be a week’s pay then, Galahad.”