arch table

The Stag and The Bastard

IMAGINE: Being the younger sister of Robert, Stannis and Renly and meeting Jon Snow in the kitchens during the feast. 

[gif is not mine. creds to the owner. part of the poetry series, this time it’s based off lang leav’s ‘someone like you’.] 

warnings: none

words: 2.0k +

‘Do you think there is the possibility of you and I? In this lifetime, is that too much to hope for?…’

She could feel the stares of the people as she walked into the hall, nevertheless she kept walking her chin held up high. (Y/N) knew why they were staring. Of course it was very uncommon for such a highborn lady to not wear dresses, but it was so trivial. She could hear Robert’s voice from the end of the hall, she could practically see Cersei rolling her eyes at her husband’s behaviour.  

“Sister!” She looked at her brother at the centre of the table, gesturing for her to hurry along and break her fast with them.

“Brother,” she greeted him when she was close enough. She walked past the Stark and the Baratheon children. She wasn’t older than them by any means, basically the same age as Robb but nonetheless she was royalty.

“Why are you dressed like a man?” Renly spoke, smirking when he saw his sister’s reaction.

“I’m going around Winterfell today to see what there is,” she looked around at the faces. Robert looked on with interest as well as Cersei, Stannis looked indifferent and Renly just looked amused. “As well as around the North.”

“Do you have an escort my lady?” Catelyn spoke from her far left. “We have plenty of escorts to show you around.”

(Y/N)’s gaze turned to Cat, she smiled softly and shook her head. “Thank you, but I already have an escort. A suitable one, one that I chose myself.”

“Who is it?”

“Jon Snow,” she could practically feel the anger radiate from Cat as soon as she said that name. (Y/N) smiled at her, this time with an all knowing smile, without another word she took her seat and sat beside Renly.

“You’re stirring things up sister,” Renly whispered softly.

“I’m not,” she responded. Renly gave her a knowing look. “Okay, maybe I am but I’m not intentionally doing it.”

“How did you even get to meet Jon Snow? How did you get him as the escort?”

“So many questions brother,” (Y/N) twirled her fork and looked at the table below them. She looked for the familiar black hair but knowing better. Of course he wasn’t at the table with them. He was probably alone outside, or maybe he was inside a barn? Or in the kitchens, much like he was last night.

The clanging sounds of pots and pans echoed across the narrow hall where (Y/N) walked, she could see the faint light of the kitchens. A booming laugh echoed across the hall, knowing that it came from her over joyous brother from the feast behind her.

“Your Highness?” A servant stood before, curtsying. “Is something the matter?”

(Y/N) softly smiled, “No.” She pointed to the room where the light was coming from, “Is this the kitchens?”

“Yes my lady,” (Y/N) nodded ending the conversation. The servant curtsied again and hurried off.

(Y/N) walked towards the kitchen, she could hear the conversations that were being held. She heard her name being mentioned, with quiet movements she moved to the alcove just before it.

“I’m telling you Myl, that girl is no Highborn woman, nor a Princess,” a woman with a gruff voice sounded. “The way that she holds herself, she’s more interested in cajoling with the men and knights than being properly trained as a royal. I hear that she’s the black sheep in that family.” (Y/N) could imagine the tittering imbeciles edging in closer trying to catch up on the latest gossip while they make the food. 

(Y/N) clenched her fist together, she’s heard this over the years of course. She preferred to be in the company of men as she wanted to fight, not what everyone else seem to think so. She’s heard the whispers, the rumours from servants to noble people alike. But she was never the black sheep of the family. When she said that she would rather fight and train with the soldiers, her brothers had reservations it wasn’t until Jaime Lannister came to her aid and supported her. From then on she’s become one of the fiercest and merciless fighters of Westeros.

“That’s why she’s called the Iron Princess,” another voice joined in. “She has no mercy. No sympathy, she’s more like a Lannister than a Baratheon. She’s a whore too I hear.” There was more that the woman was going to say but she was interrupted when a voice yelled out ‘enough’.

“You mustn’t say things like that,” she’s heard that voice before. Earlier in the day. “She’s different aye, but that does not matter. If she hears you saying things like this then we’ll see if she has mercy or not.” She could hear the sounds of his shoes as he walked around the room. “Even then if rumours are circulated around it won’t be just her who would be spiteful, it will be her brothers and the Lannisters, even my father.”

It was true of course, what he just said. She was loved by her brothers, and she was loved by the Lannisters. Tywin practically raised her when her father died.

“Be careful what you say around here. Now go on, I think it’s the next course you wouldn’t want them to be waiting now do you?” She could hear all of their feet move across the floor, she burrowed herself to the wall when they passed, strangely enough they were all quiet.

“Thank you for that,” (Y/N) said softly as she walked into the kitchens. She saw Jon jump a little bit and held in her laugh. She watched as he turned around almost tripping over his own feet.

“Your Highness,” he bowed.


“I beg your pardon?”

She walked towards him, “I don’t like titles. We’re all the same when we’re buried in the ground,” she shrugged. “Although dead kings garner more respect and admiration than actual living people.”

“I’m sorry for what they said. They hear rumours and they speculate.”

She shrugged, “I’ve heard far worse from far worse people Jon Snow, no worries.” (Y/N) walked along the bench, scrunching her nose up at the various smells and dirtiness of the kitchen. “Some rumours do tend to stem from the truth,” he looked at her, his dark eyes following her every move. She looked at him and smirked, “Some rumours. Not all though.”

Jon cleared his throat, not believing that (Y/N) Baratheon the most sought out person in all of the Seven Kingdoms was here with him, the bastard of Winterfell. “How does one weave out the lies and find the truth?”

She tapped her lip with her finger and thought for a moment. “If they know you well enough, love you or care for you, they know.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here with me?”

(Y/N) stared at him, “I didn’t want to be here with you.”

Jon looked down, she sighed, “I meant that I come to the kitchens sometimes so I can be alone and eat,” she grinned at him. “The company that I have right now is an added bonus. The good kind.”

“But I’m a bastard, the bastard,” Jon emphasized. He knew that he was treated far worse than the usual bastards because he was Ned Stark’s.

“And?” She sat down at one of the stools and gestured for him to do the same. “I don’t care if you’re a bastard, Ned Stark’s or not. I told you, I hate figurative titles.” (Y/N) looked at the plate of pies, took it and passed one to Jon. “Now to lighter topics, what is there to see about the dreary and grey North?”

“I could show you tomorrow, if you’d like.” Jon offered as gratefully took the pie from her.

(Y/N) chewed her pie slowly and stared at Jon, enjoying making him squirm as he waits for her answer. Finally she swallowed the piece and poured herself some wine. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer Jon Snow,” she said before she sipped the wine.

There is something so delicate about this time, so fragile. And if nothing ever comes of it, at least I have known this feeling, this wonderful sense of optimism…’ 

“Sister?” Renly gently nudged her with his elbow. She shook herself out of her thoughts and looked at her brother. “You were far away all of a sudden.”

She smiled cordially at him, “Just remembering dear brother, no need to worry.”

Renly huffed, “I wasn’t worried. I just thought you were going insane.”

(Y/N) took another forkful of sausage in her mouth, took her napkin and gently dabbed away the grease. She looked towards the entrance of the hall and saw that Jon appeared. He seemed hesitant to walk towards her but she nodded at him and started walking. (Y/N) stood up, her chair scraping across the floors as she walked down the steps to greet Jon.

“What are you doing here?” Cat looked at Jon, disdain still in her eyes and her voice.

Jon looked at (Y/N) then at Cately, then at the rest of the table. Each pair of eyes now directed at him. “I invited him.” He heard (Y/N)’s voice coming from his right and he smiled at her. “He’s my guest.”

(Y/N) stood next to Jon, linking her arms with him. She looked at his face and smiled, then turned to the table and arched a brow, silently asking if they had any objections.

“A bastar-,” Cately’s words were taken from her mouth as Robert laughed.

“The more the merrier!” He knew that if Catelyn finished her words, his sister’s temper would flare up and as amusing it would be he still liked Catelyn, and it would cause some tension if his sister accidentally hurt her.

“Come Jon,” she led him to sit next to her. “Break your fast then you show me what the North has to offer.” Jon could feel the stares of everyone as he sat down. He smiled meekly at Robb and Arya who were staring at him unflinchingly.

…It is something I can always keep close to me -to draw from in my darkest hour like a ray of unspent sunshine…’ 

As he prepared the saddles for the horses, Jon felt a presence behind him, he turned around and saw that it was Jaime Lannister, in his golden glory. “I don’t know what you’re doing with (Y/N), but if you harm her in anyway I’ll be forced to kill you in her honour.” Jaime passed the bag that Jon needed. “And it won’t just be my wrath that you have to watch out for.” He nodded towards Tywin who was conversing with Littlefinger and Ned on the other side of the courtyard.

Jon nodded and swallowed the nervousness that he was feeling. He knew that (Y/N) was one of the most beloved people in Westeros and if he certainly did hurt her then nothing could ever save him, not even all of the Gods.

He watched as (Y/N) came out of the castle, still in her outfit from the morning, her dark hair flowing behind her. He spotted the Queen walking beside her and watched as they conversed quietly. 

“Be careful (Y/N), the North is harsh and unforgiving.”

“Much like the Lannisters, Cersei, I will be fine.” She hugged her goodsister and bid her farewell. (Y/N) walked towards Jon as he held the two reins, passing one to her. “Are you ready Jon?”

He nodded and waited for her to saddle up, then joined her. Jon looked back at the courtyard, he could feel their stares, waiting for him to mess up but alas he did not. He looked at Cersei, her eyes never leaving his, he nodded at her hoping that he received the message that he will not hurt her and no harm will come to her. She nodded and walked towards her father.

Jon looked at (Y/N) who was now staring at him with curious eyes, “Don’t worry Jon, I’ll make sure I won’t fall off my horse so they won’t kill you.” She gave a hearty laugh one that usually comes from Robert. He gave her a small smile. Sensing the hesitancy and nervousness, she trotted her horse towards him. “I’m too interested in you Jon Snow, to ever let any harm come to you.”

This time he smiled at her genuinely. “Now let’s go, I can’t wait to see the different shades of grey I can find in the North!” He watched as she trotted her horse to the gates. Jon looked back at everyone, this time their stares more warm than before but still cautious.

 As he rode alongside (Y/N), her words filling the cold air, he couldn’t help but feel right and complete. Even if he was a bastard, he can damn well show her how much of a man he could be. 

‘…No matter what happens next, I will always be glad to know there is someone like you in the world.’ 

Jealous Fights (Jughead X Reader)

Summary- You get jealous that Jughead is hanging out with Betty so much, so you try to make him jealous too. 

Warnings- fighting, jealousy, kissing, crying.

requested- yes! @dixiehasalotoffreetime (thanks bes frand ily)

A/N- my first writing got 7 notes! (thats not a lot but still) thank you!  Also, I will be doing a second part to this! (probs won’t be as exciting but whatever) So stay tuned for that!

“So Jug, you up for studying tomorrow?” Betty asks Jughead.

You and your friends were all sitting at a booth at Pop’s, as usual.

“Uh, sure!” Jughead replies and smiles.

You quickly look both of them over. Jughead was your boyfriend and he seemed to be spending a lot of time with Betty lately. It was really getting on your nerves. 

“Whatcha gonna study?” You ask, scooting a bit closer to Jughead. 

Betty glances at Jug and replies, “For the science test, you know how hard Mrs.Hank’s tests are.” 

You nod and take a sip of your milk shake. 

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you were a little jealous.

Then you got an idea. Why not make Jughead jealous too?

You turned to look at Archie, sitting on the other side of table. 

“Arch, do you to study with me? My place?” You ask the ginger haired boy. 

He quickly glances over at Jughead who looks a bit suspicious. 

“Uh, ok.” He replies.

You could see Jughead staring at you with hawk eyes, he was jealous already!

“Alright Archie, should we go?” You ask him leaning into the table.

“Sure.” He smiles and you both get up.

“Bye guys!” You both say in unison, before you lean down to kiss jughead.

Not just a peck, but a real kiss. You wanted him to see what he was missing out on.

You deepened your kiss and held his chin with your hand before breaking off. You wanted to be a tease.

You hear ooo sounds from Veronica and Kevin as you get back up from leaning over, still locking eyes with Jughead.

Jughead still looked flustered as you and Archie exited Pop’s. 

“What was that for?” Archie asks, referring to the kiss.

You turn to him and say, “Juggie has been spending a lot of time with Betty lately. And I don’t want to admit it but I’m kinda jealous.” 

“Ya, but they’re just friends.” Archie points out.

“I know but- I just want to make him jealous too. That’s why I asked you to study with me at my house.” You tell him as you near your home. 

Archie nods and you both enter the house.

The next day, you Kevin and Veronica walked to school together.

I didn’t take long for Kevin to bring up that kiss.

“Ok, but can we just talk about that kiss?” He exclaims. 

You giggle as he goes on.

“I mean that was hot. Like wow.” He says. 

“Thanks,” You laugh.

“But like why? You hardly ever kiss Jug like that in public, is there something happening that I don know about?” Veronica asked as she pulled her phone out of her pocket to check her hair on the camera.

“I don’t know. Jughead has been hanging out with Betty a lot lately. And I know that they are only friends… But I’m kinda jealous. I guess I just wanted him to see what he was missing out on.” You explain as you all enter the school.

“Oh! Well I can help you make him jealous if you want.” Veronica offers, winking. 

You laugh and open your locker. 

Then you see Betty and Jughead walking side by side down the halls, laughing. 

A fire burns in you. You didn’t know why, but you were mad. 

Then Archie comes up beside you and Kevin to open his locker. 

“Hey Arch!” You say loud enough so Juggie and Betty hear as they came closer. 

“Hey Y/N!” He replies and smiles and grabs some books out of his locker. 

Then Betty and Jughead come up to you guys. 

“Hey.” Jug says to you all and takes you into his arms in a light kiss. 

You kiss him back a little harder and then let go, smirking at him. 

You turn around and get books out of your locker as the rest of the gang talks. 

“So how was studying?” Jughead asked you. 

There it was, he was jealous.

“Fine, and you?” You asked smiling.

“Fine too.” He looked at you a little angrily and then said, “Well, I better get to class.” and walked away. 

After school, while in your room, you heard a knock on your window, it was Jughead. 

You quickly opened it and let him inside. 

“Hello beautiful.” He said and leaned in for a kiss. 

You rolled your eyes at his cliche saying but kissed him back. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around your waste as his lips moved gracefully against yours.

After a few moments you broke apart and stared lovingly into his eyes and he did the same. 


His phone dinged and he pulled it out. 

“Ugh. I got to go.” He sighed and made his way towards the window.

“What? why?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“I promised Betty I would help her with an assignment, sorry.” He said.

You lets out a loud groan. Jughead turned around to face you.

“What was that for?” He inquired.

“Nothing… It’s just seems like you’ve been wanting to be with Betty a lot lately.” You answered turning your head up a bit.

“Ya, so? She’s my friend.” He said.

“Friend, huh? It seems like you want to be more than that with her.” You said. You know you were going overboard, but you needed to show Jughead you meant business.

“What? Y/N that just stupid! You know that’s not true!” He raised his voice a bit.

“Oh really? Then why are you spending more time with her than with me?” You said, crossing your arms.

“I’m not! We just study together sometimes and-” He began but you cut him off.

“Sometimes? Sometimes?! You have been with her almost everyday after school for the past two weeks!” You raised your voice and stepped at bit closer to him.

“I have not! Your just jealous!” He yelled.

Anger burned in your eyes, you could feel your face getting red and your palms sweating.

“You know what? Fine. Whatever! Just go!” You yelled pointing to the window. “I’ll just invite over Archie!” 

Jughead began to leave until he hear the last sentence. He whirled around.

“Archie? Why Archie?!” He said, his eyes burned.

“See!! Your jealous too!!” Your voice getting louder by the second.

“I am not!” Jughead yelled, heading towards the window again. 

“Yes you are! Now leave! Be with Betty! Cheat on me, see if I care!!” You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes. 

That was it. He turned around so fast he was like a blob of black clothes. 


Jughead had never been so mad before. He had never yelled at you. He had never called you anything other than sweet things. But he was the most angry you had ever seen him.

Your face got hot, tears began to stream down your face.


“YES I WOULD HAVE SOMETHING TO LOOSE! THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!” He screamed coming closer to you.

Did you hear him right?

“I love you Y/N.” He said a bit quieter, but still loudly. 

He then took your face in his hands and brought his mouth to yours. 

But before he kissed you, you let out a small whisper, 

“I love you too.” 


Finn Balor/Jeff Hardy/OC: Reader uses the boy’s moves without their permission. It winds up being helpful though.

Warning: a slight Daddy kink, choking, I think thats it

Part 2

Yeah so this happened and I don’t know where it came from.

@sammiielli @hardcorewwetrash @the-geekgoddes @vebner37 @alexahood21 @alexispoo @kinkymaminicole @ambrosegirlforever

As I sat on a cart backstage I hummed a light tune to myself. I was beyond excited to wrestle tonight and I hoped that my new gear would show that. As I sat there messing with my wrestling gear top I heard two familiar voices. I looked up to see Jeff and Finn arguing about something. I smiled at myself while jumping off the cart and walked up to the two men. “Hey boys. Do you guys like my new gear? It’s not to showy is it?” I did a small turn poking my ass out just a little.

“Yeah baby it looks good. All the men here are gonna get in trouble if you don’t keep your distance.” Jeff said as he raised an eyebrow. He pushed my hip making me turn again. I giggled at the contact.

“Finn, you have anything to say?” I bat my eyelashes at Finn and grabbed his hand.

“Do you always flirt and tease this much?” Finn said as he looked between me and Jeff.

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Saudade (1)

Bucky x Reader

Saudade: (n.) Portuguese for a melancholic nostalgia for someone or something from the past.

Summary: She’s willing to do anything to keep Bucky out of harm’s way, that’s why she’s so expendable, and expendability is dangerous.

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: swearing, violence, angst


Part 2 

Originally posted by ariesw1493

She fell off the train first.

She died, or she at least thinks she did.

She remembers hearing Bucky scream after her as he clung to the loose metal bar on the train. She remembers him fall off right after she did. His screams echoed off the mountain tops as they both plunged further and further to their deaths. She wanted to scream out to him. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how much he meant to her, but her voice was gone. Instead, it was filled with gut wrenching screams.

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» business | s

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

→ Jeon Jungkook x Reader
→ Genre: Smut
→ Word Count: 1k+
→ Summary: You’re an up and coming idol and with your debut just around the corner BigHit wanted you and Jungkook to work together on a new single- a duet but, Jungkook has other ways of sealing the deal.

“We’re pleased that you would even consider Y/n for your duet,” Your manager had spoken so, the interaction between you and Jungkook was cut to a bare minimum. You sat back in your chair, legs folded as you listen to the conversation before you unfold.

You were notified via email about the opportunity of working with Jungkook on a duet that was meant to be for a movie. His manager mentioned that they were going through the list of people that were possible partners but, he found you to be the most interesting and he wanted you. You didn’t really know why but, you weren’t going to question the exposure it was sure to give you.

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No More Shared Rooms

Summary:  The reader and Sam are on the road working a case with Dean and run into some old friends?  

Characters:  Sam x Reader, Dean, Ed, Harry

Word Count:  1255

Warning: language, smut (unprotected sex)

A/N:  This is for my wonderful friend @pinknerdpanda ‘s #mandabirthdaychallenge.  My prompt is bolded in the fic.  Happy Birthday Manda!  I hope you like it!

My words were checked by the mastabeta @wheresthekillswitch, thanks Lee!

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Sam’s leg was brushing up against yours again.  You met his gaze across the table, arching your eyebrow at him when he tried to throw an innocent smile your way.  Don’t tease, you mouthed to him.  You‘d been working this case all week, sharing a room with Dean, which had grown old by day two.

The three of you were sitting in one of those high-backed booths that created dividers between each table.  You loved these kinds of booths, even if the privacy was a sham, you appreciated it anyway.  Dean was, blah, blah, blah-ing to the waitress and you were about to cut in with your order, when a voice broke through the din of the diner.

Ghosts, I said ghosts.  Who has any strong opinions on goats, Ed?”

The waitress stopped writing, her mouth dropping open.

“Uh, Dean?  Does that voice sound familiar to you?” Sam asked.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”  Dean slid out of the booth, stepping over to the one just beyond yours, with you and Sam right behind him.  “What the hell are you two doing here?”

“Oh, if it isn’t Dean and Sam,” Ed said, looking at each of them.  “We’re working a case, obviously.”  He rolled his eyes at Harry and you had to stifle a laugh.

“Working a case?”  Dean’s agitation was growing with each breath and he looked more and more like he was going to pull out his gun.

Sam moved in front of his brother.  “Hey guys, you know, we’ve got this one covered.  Maybe you could hit the next town over?”

“No, no way, you’re not chasing us off this-.”

“Wait, Ed and Harry?” you broke in.  “The Ed and Harry?  The one’s you guys were telling me about?” you gushed, hoping it sounded believable.  The two men sat up straighter.  They’re buying it.

“What did they say?” Ed asked.

“Well,” you said, scooting in next to him.  “They wouldn’t want me telling you this,” you dropped your voice to a whisper, leaning across the table toward Harry, Ed mimicking you, “but they said that the last time they saw you, they wouldn’t have solved the case without you.  And it just so happens that there’s a case a few towns over.  If you guys could head over there and start the groundwork, I would be so, thankful.”  You dropped your hand on Harry’s, he looked down at it then back up at you.

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Movie Night.

pairing: park jimin x reader
genre: just straight smut
word count: 1k
drabble prompt: “You, me, popcorn, two liter Dr. Pepper, and a movie. You in?” + “The skirt is supposed to be this short.” + “Take. It. Off.” + “I said get rid of it.”
a/n: for my love, the Jimin to my Yoongi, @txmonkeyy

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The Map Room - Smut

Originally posted by stvlinski

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Thomas/Reader 
Words: 1198
AN: @writing-obrien wanted Thomas sin. I wrote this in 30 mins don’t judge me. 💕 

“Thomas what are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t answer as he dragged you into the map room, his head whipping back and forth to check if anyone was around to see you. Most of the Gladers were in bed, or over by the fire pit, so it looked like you were in the clear.

“Thomas?” You tried again.

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This one’s for you.

Authors Note: Hey everyone, I am sorry it has taken me a while to finally post some sort of writing, things have been hectic for me, both good and bad. But, here is a small little something I managed to come up with. 

The song I used is ‘This one’s for you, by Luke Combs.' 

There is a bit of a funny story on how I found this artist. But, it is a really good song, in my opinion. (It is country).  Enjoy! Xx

He had heard all the excuses, all the lines, and had been through all the of the hardest goodbyes. All he wanted was to drown out all the noise, and the void in his heart, the void that had built a home in the most vulnerable part of him. She hurt him in the worst of ways, she was home to him, and now he is a lost somewhere in the distance of what could have been and what was — Dying inside.

He was in desperate need of a helping hand, someone who wasn’t his mother or one of his guy friends who allow him to find himself at the bottom of a bottle.

You push his hotel door open, not surprised when your eyes scan the mess of clothes on the floor, everything scattered everywhere like a tornado had ripped through the room.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, the sheets messily enveloping him, just covering his lower back.

“Shawn, Shawn get up,” you sigh, placing the two coffees and the breakfast you had gotten down on the table that is sporting a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Babe?” he mumbles drowsily, his voice rough, a pitiful indication that he is more than likely hung over.

The sound of him calling you babe, sends shivers down your back. You shake your head before breathing out and stepping closer to the bed.

“No, it is me. Remember me?” You challenge, drawing the coverings away from him, exposing him as he lies in just a pair of sweatpants. “I’m your best friend that you have failed to communicate with. Did you forget about me, or did you just want to be a dick?” you continue, casting the sheets to the floor, allowing them to waddle up in the corner.

“Oh ha, ha. I know your voice anywhere,” Shawn mumbles into his voice, unamused by being woken up.

“Mhm, whatever slacker, get your ass up,”

“No, sleepin’”

You raise a brow, shaking your head disapprovingly as he stays on the bed, not moving from his sprawled out position.

“It is almost twelve, get up. I have coffee and food to cure your hang over.” You insist, stepping away from the bed and walking to where you left the food and the coffees.

You turn back around with the coffees in your hand, your eyes observing his body as it sits up on the bed, his body tanned, and toned.

“Two sugars?” he queries, working his unsteady hand through his ruffled hair that is just as smooth resembling as it was when he left for tour four months ago.

You roll your eyes, handing him the coffee, “Yes, it is exactly how you like it. Want to tell me why the hell you have been neglecting me?” You question, sitting on the edge of the bed while he takes a few sips of the beverage.

He looks down, refusing to make eye contact with you for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts— thoughts that have been hung up on his now, ex-girlfriend, for the last seven months.  

“You could have called me, you know?” you whisper, handing him a paper bag with a Danish in it,

“And say what? That she fucking left me without warning, without reason? She got up and left one morning and nobody knows why.” He raises his voice slightly, “What am I meant to say to anyone? Everyone wants me to have explanations and I don’t. I don’t know why she left me, I don’t know why, okay. Didn’t think calling you would give me the damn answers… What would you have said? Huh? 'I told you so?’”

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Mr. Stark

Request: “Loved your latest Tony Stark x reader fic! If you’re up for it could you do another smutty oneshot? One where the reader is Tony’s personal assistant and they have a sexual relationship going on and they get busy on a conference table right before a meeting 🙈 “

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: smuttttttt, bit of an AU aka no avenger-related business

A/n: i got probably too excited reading this request. also um this gif??? he’s so cute 

Originally posted by cinziadowney

“Mr. Stark, you have a meeting in half an hour. Conference room B.” You said, poking your head into his room.

He turned from his place at the mirror. “Got it. How do I look?”

You gave him a quick once-over, admiring the navy suit he wore. “Just as good as always, sir.”

Keep reading

Stereotypes (Sherlock x reader)

A/N/Summary: Because stereotypes suck, that’s why. No, really. Every time I see a fanfic about reader on her periods it’s always painful and crying and shouting. Not everyone gets to be victimized (as much at least) by their hormones and act stereotypically influenced by what’s going on in the between of their legs. of course I’m not hating on anyone who experiences those symptoms what so ever! Why would I? I mean, it hurts for me too these days, but about two years ago I never felt anything when I were on my periods. No pain, no mood swings (still no mood swings, no changes in my diet) but I know there are more girls and women who do not ’belong’ to that typical period experiencing category. So this for you girls, for them who experience their periods ’differently’.

You were cooking in the kitchen while Sherlock sat behind you, on the other side of the kitchen table. You and him and been chatting twenty minutes straight about stereotypes. You couldn’t even remember anymore how you two had ended up with this subject, but you felt happy for it. You felt like you were educating your smart ass friend by answering to his questions.

”Pink as a favorite color?” Sherlock had dig into the more ridiculous stereotypes by now as he, for a man who read science and biology hardly believed in stereotypes, had already questioned you of the ’hard ones’.

”That is more of an opinion question.” You taunted with a disappointed smirk. Sherlock hummed signaling you he had heard you, but not giving away how he felt for your statement.

Sherlock had his elbows on the table, his palms pressed together and fingers touching his chin. He was staring at you intently, his eyes blinking rarely, but it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. You knew that look. You had seen him making it when he was hearing out his clients. If a case was interesting enough his stare would deepen, eyes wide just slightly and head tilting upwards.

”What about women riding cars?” You asked from Sherlock instead after a minute of silence. He scoffed, rolling his eyes and closing them for a long second, then frustratedly waved his hands and let them rest on the table. ”That is a stereotype that can’t be proven by biology, mostly.” He said the last word after giving it a second thought. ”Comparing women and men on driving and ending up with the solution that favors the stereotype is impossible. There are numerous studies that prove against it. Women have actually been said to be better at driving than men, known to be more considerate and less erratic than men.” He said without skipping a beat.

”I wasn’t doubting it.” You cut in to his rant.

”Good.” He said. You waited a second before coming up with another question, but Sherlock got there first as his gaze on you deepened. You knew from the look that this would be a tricky question for you to answer to. He had drawn his hands together again, giving you the look as if you were his client and he had just heard your story staring to get interesting, his eyes lit up as he went to ask his perfect question.

”Acting differently while menstruation.” He said the words carefully, but held the intimidating look on his face as if this was the question that would beat you. Of course it wasn’t a contest. Or to you it wasn’t. Okay, maybe it was, but only if you would be challenged. Sherlock of course didn’t much base his opinions on stereotypes but to facts and science so you couldn’t feel bad for what ever the real answer to these presumptions would be. You knew Sherlock would only give you answers based on truth.

”A stereotype.” You answered and expected him to go for the next, but the look that spread on his face signaled that this was far from over. His eyes went wide, then a disagreeing scowl took place on his pale face and he questioned: ”A stereotype?” You nodded your head and repeated the words after him.

”No it isn’t. Biologically women are influenced by their hormones while on their periods. It affects on their emotions and acts. I’ve seen you throw a fit repeatedly and as days go by then you becoming your peaceful and carefree self again.” Sherlock had kept an eye on you, trying to track down your behavior in an experiment bases, but your mood swings usually didn’t match with his calculations.

”You have been eating junk food three days or more in a row,-” You cut him off there and said, ”I’m on my periods, Sherlock.” He looked at you in silence a second before smiling doubtingly at you. ”No, you had your menstruation last week.” He was referring to your last weeks bad mood, how you easily got angry and would snap when approached.

”No, I didn’t. I’m on my periods right now.” You stated and put your hands on your waist. ”And like I just said, it’s a stereotype that girls act off while on periods. I may not know how the hormones work on me, but I know I’m quite the same when I’m on them.” You waited for Sherlock to say something but instead he just urged you to continue with your speech by nodding his head. ”I never feel pain or spontaneously change my diet. The only thing that might be different is that I need to use the bathroom more often on bad days.”

Sherlock gave you one last suspicious look and then asked you, ”Are you sure?” You wanted to slap him. Were you sure you were on your periods? Yes. Were you sure you were in control of your moods and acts? Definitely.

”Yes, Sherlock.” You sighed. ”Like I said, I’m not feeling any different and I am hundred precent sure I’m on my periods.”

”Interesting.” Sherlock muttered as his eyes fell on the table. You arched an eyebrow at that. Was it really? You couldn’t help but blurt out, ”Really?” His eyes lift up and he looked at you. ”Really.” He said. ”Tell me more.”

You hesitated, but then opened your mouth to ask him anyway, ”Of what?”

”Of your symptoms while on your periods.” He rushed you to educate him.

”I don’t know…” You awkwardly muttered and scratched the back of your head, leaning against the kitchen counter behind you. Sherlock questioned why not and you could feel yourself blush a bit. ”It’s not something men and women comfortably discuss about. I don’t want to gross you out.”

Sherlock stood up from his chair, the legs of the said furniture making a noise while sweeping over the wooden floor. He walked right in front of you and took a stand before you. He put his hands on each side of your face and made you look at him, his soft eyes reaching for yours and when they met you couldn’t look away.

”You would never.” And he kissed your forehead. You smirked at his statement and had to ask him was that a challenge, to which he only chuckled.

(Okay, now my thumb hurts like hell, guess I’ll need to stop writing for today…. and for some reason I feel like this sucks, ugh…)

Possessive // Jughead Jones

Can you do an jughead imagine? Where the reader is a really good singer and archie asks for the readers help, So jughead get really jealous. BTW I really love your work!! THANK you for blessing us with your talent in literature!!♡♡♡

I need some possessive jughead x reader pls ☺🙈

Honestly you’re the sweetest thing since…I don’t even know what but thank you! I hope you enjoy this one guys! Sorry it’s taking me a while to get through these, I’m actually getting requests and I’m shocked 😂 I may have to put them on hold so I can finish the ones that are still waiting. Love you guys! 💕


‘Okay, seriously, I get you love your burgers and their god’s gift to creation, but, so am I. So, can I please just have one bite? Please?’ I pleaded with my boyfriend, pouting and resting my chin on his shoulder.

'Y/N, I asked you if you wanted your own and you said no.’ He pointed out, taking a teasing bite of his mouth watering burger.

'Because I wasn’t hungry then, so I’m hungry now.’ I argued, reaching for the burger, only for Jughead with this long arms to lift it out of my reach, causing me to glare at him, crossing my arms.

'Fine, no kisses then for you.’ I smirked a little, seeing his own smirk drop, raising his eyebrow.

'Oh really?’ He teased, whilst I could feel his arm wrap around my waist, pulling me closer. He went to lean in as I turned my head.

'Really.’ I smiled innocently. The bell dinged in Pop’s, Archie walking into the restaurant. He looked around until he spotted the two of us, giving us a wave before walking over and joining us.

'Great, just the person I needed to see.’ He smiled, sitting down and wresting his elbows on the table.

'Arch, you see enough of me in your own house.’ Jughead laughed, taking another bite of his burger with a satisfied smirk.


'Actually, I was talking about Y/N.’ I frowned a little in confusion, a small smile still on my face.

'Why do you need me for?’

'Well, you’re a singer, aren’t you?’ Archie asked, making me duck my head a little. I had a minor stage fright if people hearing my voice, especially the likes of Josie and the Pussycats.

'I’m average.’

Archie scoffed. 'Yeah, okay, whatever you want to believe. Anyway, I’m having trouble singing and writing this new song, I think I need your help to finish it and make it a duet.’

I laughed, smiling at Jughead who looked between the two of us. 'Um, are you sure that you want my help? You could go to Josie or Valerie?’

'No, I need your help. You’ll know how to fix this the best.’

'Alright, I’ll bed and assist. When?’

'Tomorrow, my house?’ He asked, smiling. I nodded cheerfully, seeing him grin at me. 'Great, I’ll see you then. I’ve gotta go, but, see you later Y/N, see you at home, Jug!’ Archie called out, walking out of Pop’s.

I shook my head, laughing a bit. 'This will be interesting I can assure you.’

Jughead remained quiet, a comfortable arm around my waist. 'Look, Y/N…’ he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, 'I don’t want you doing this with Archie.’

'Wait - what? Why not?’ I asked, turning my body more towards him.

'With Archie’s history now, Ms. Grundy, then Veronica, then Valarie, Cheryl…I don’t trust him with you.’

'Can you trust me to be with him? And trust if he tries anything, you can deal with him your way?’ I bit my lip, seeing him sigh in annoyance. He didn’t look happy.

'Y/N, he’s becoming a player. You’re not going to do this with him.’

'You’ll be there.’

'Yeah, then he’ll make an excuse to get you two alone to work together on the live song he’s planning on writing. I’m not stupid.’


'No, Y/N. You’re not doing this.’


'Because he could easily take you away from me!’ He exclaimed, running his hands over his face. I bit my lip, looking at his frustrated facial expression. He’d never acted like this before, he never acted so worried.

I moved closer to him, resting my head on his chest. I felt him wrap his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. 'I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.’ I told him.

'No, I’m sorry - I overreacted. If you want to do this, I should trust you. I mean - it’s just, I don’t trust…’

'You don’t trust Archie.’ I concluded, nodding my head. 'It’s alright. I’m a big girl, Jug. I can take care of myself.’

'I know,’ he chuckled, kissing the top of my head. 'Sometimes I forget that. Just remember one thing; you’re mine.’

I chuckled, lifting my head up to look at him. 'And you’re mine.’ I replied cheekily, pecking his lips longingly.

'I’m okay with that.’ He replied, kissing my forehead.

Not Just Any Woman. Sherlock.

Requests: 1) Oh my god requests are open!!! Can I request a dom possessive Sherlock smut where the reader gets jealous of Irene and so to get back at him she starts talking to other guys and Sherlock gets all possessive and jealous??? and 2) Can I get a smut with Sherlock where he & the reader have a fight and then have rough (with concence always) make up sex against the wall or on a table (definitely not it bedroom if you can) thank YOU!  Love ur blog & the days requests are open💝 

Triggers: Smut. Jealousy. Angry sex.

Word Count: 1395

Enjoy ;D

Originally posted by whenisayrunrun

Keep reading


Due to having high, demanding jobs it was such a rare gift to just get the chance to spend a lazy day with Mac. You forgot what it felt like, to slip on comfortable clothes and have the luxury of doing absolutely nothing. Your body was stretched out on the couch, reading one of your favourite books while Mac was just inches away working on an old bike. The atmosphere was peaceful and created a sense of calm. You made sure that snacks were close by, just because getting up right now would ruin this feeling of relaxation.

However what you didn’t plan for was visitors, the doorbell rang throughout the house causing you to tilt your head back and groan. “Are you going to get that?”, your lovely boyfriend asked, who was too busy working on repairing his bike. “Are you?”, retorting back to him. Mac stopped what he was doing and lifted his head to face you, the doorbell ringing once again. “On any other occasion I would, but it’s way easier for you to get up then me right now”.

Setting the book down on the coffee table, you arched an eyebrow towards him. “It’s your house, therefore you should answer the door”. Another ring of the doorbell echoed, “It’s our house and you’re trying to make up an excuse, cause your lazy ass doesn’t want to get off the couch. Mac replied, showing off his charming smile.

“Fine I’ll get it. And you can watch this lazy ass walk to the door”. Your feet hit the floorboard. Making your way past Mac, you stuck your tongue out at Mac which earned a deep chuckle from him. “You make that sound like it’s a bad thing, I’m getting a great view from down here”. He cheekily added. Lightly smacking his shoulder, you shook your head and went to answer the door to find out who had interrupted your lazy day.


6 Inch

Originally posted by sexycliffconda

Previous Parts

     You eyed the glass of alcohol like a lion eyed its prey. The hand rested on the small of your back was cold a huge contrast to how hot your skin was. You turned back to look at the stranger. He grinned down at you and his eyes matched the look you were giving the alcohol. The man’s chest was pressed up against your back and the smell of his cologne had your knees weak. You grabbed the glass and inspected the drink. You saw the bartender making it with your own eyes and after she had finished she had placed the glass right in front of you, so you knew there was nothing wrong with the drink. You brought the glass up to your mouth and took a sip. As you pulled the cup away your dark purple lipstick stained the rim. “I couldn’t help but to notice you when you walked in,” the guy behind you said. His voice was deep and there was a rasp to it as he whispered in your ear. You felt a shiver run down your spine at how close he was. His beard tickling your skin.

“Oh really?” you replied, taking another gulp of your drink. You turned around so that you were facing the guy. He was attractive to a point where you felt nervous to be under the man’s gaze. Your eyes took a quick glance at his arms the dark skin covered in tattoos and toned as can be. He licked at his lips and nodded at your question. “Thanks for the drink,” you said, tilting the glass in his direction before taking another sip. 

“It’s my pleasure. So what’s your name, Sweetheart?” he questioned, moving around you to take a seat down at the bar. The two of you were very close to one another. Leaning in to hear what the other was saying since the club was loud and packed to the full. You smirked at his words and rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you. 

“It’s Y/N, Sweetheart,” you said, the smirk on your face growing even more at the expression the man gave. He let out a small chuckle, white teeth gleaming as he grinned at you. You looked down at the alcohol that was in your cup noticing that there was on a few swallow fulls left. You turned the glass up and took one big gulp finishing off the liquor and feeling your throat burn in sensation. Once you finished you placed the glass down on the counter. “Can I get a Hennessy and Ace mix,” you requested towards the bartender needing something stronger than the alcohol the stranger had bought you. 

“Damn you’re going in hard tonight. Tough week?” the guy asked. 

“You could say that,” you said, “Now I told you my name. What’s yours?” The man licked at his lips as he rubbed at his beard. 

“Derrick” he responded. 

“That’s a sexy name,” you smiled making him grin at the compliment. You had become a different person after the night you left Calum. You started to party more, flirt around, and drink to your heart’s content. You didn’t care what happened and just felt like enjoying life to the fullest. When you were with Calum you had never done things like this. Sure before you met Calum you were a carefree woman and doing whatever it was you needed to do. You were a leader and was always taking care of your business. This wasn’t the case at the moment. You needed to let your hair down and just get drunk for a while. When your drink was in front of you, you swiped it off the counter and slid out your seat. “Care for a dance?” you asked Derrick, holding your hand out for him to take and taking small sips of your drink. 

“That was suppose to be my line,” he said, grabbing onto your hand. 

“Mmm well you gotta move fast,” you said, pulling him into the crowd of people. You began to sway to the music drink in one hand as your other held onto Derrick. Your hips began to gyrate and you backed your ass up against Derrick as the beat to the music switched up. You no longer cared about Calum. With the two of you being separated and Calum out fucking some other woman you decided you no longer wanted to be married. The first night you left and went out to party you refused to stoop to Calum’s level and cheat. That was a month ago. A whole month of not talking to your soon to be ex-husband and your thoughts had changed. You weren’t together anymore so having a one night stand didn’t sound so bad and from the looks of it Derrick was just the right guy to do that with. 

     Calum sat in the V.I.P. section of the club with a sad look on his face. He was leaning against the railing that overlooked the dance floor and chugged on his beer. Calum wasn’t in the mood to party, but his friends had dragged him out in order to get him out of the rut. He had majorly fucked up and Calum was now facing the consequences of his infidelity. “Hey cheer up man,” Ashton said, slapping his down on Calum’s shoulder and shaking him a bit. They were all trying to do their best to make their friend feel better, but he had dug his grave himself so they weren’t going to offer words of wisdom. All they could do was help Calum grieve the loss of his marriage. The boys of course had known about Calum’s cheating and being the best friends that they were, they stood by their friend and kept his secret. Now it was all biting him in the ass. 

“I just want my wife back,” Calum responded, chugging down the rest of his drink before grabbing the bottle of Vodka off the table to drink that instead. You wanted nothing to do with Calum and he didn’t know how to handle it. When he had found the note you left it tore Calum apart. Not only did you leave him, but you had left your wedding ring too. Your wedding ring that was in Calum’s pocket at the moment, burning a hole in his pants. It hadn’t left his side ever since and Calum held onto that ring until you decided to come back to him. If you decided to come back to him. Calum looked back at his friends the guys singing loudly to the music and a few girls sitting around giggling at them. He despised how happy they all looked. It was almost too painful to watch and Calum rolled his eyes at the sight. He tilted the bottle of vodka up to his lips letting the alcohol burn his throat as it went down. Calum rubbed at his eye and he looked down at the crowd. He chugged at the liquor again, but the bottle lowered from his lips when his eyes landed on two people. 

You were in the same club as Calum and neither of you knew it until now. Well now Calum knew. He licked at his lips, teeth sinking into the flesh as he stared in jealousy. You were dancing with some guy. The male’s hands running up and down your body as you began to grind on him. For some reason Calum couldn’t take his eyes off the scene. There was something about the way you were acting that made him feel weird. In the last two months of Calum cheating he hadn’t seen you act like this. Walking around with confidence and flirting with guys. It was like you were a different person in his eyes. Calum’s jaw clenched when he saw you bring the guy into a kiss. “What’re staring at?” Luke questioned coming up beside Calum. He had noticed the hard stare and frustration on his friend’s face. 

“Nothing,” Calum muttered, taking a longer swallow of the Vodka and still keeping an eye on you. Your kiss with the stranger was growing more intense and Calum could visibly see the guy’s tongue slip into your mouth. 

“Is that Y/N?” Luke asked, eyes squinting as he looked out into the sea of people. Luke looked back to Calum and his lips parted in understanding at why his friend looked angry. “Shit man I’m sorry,” Luke sighed, noticing the kiss between you and the stranger end. The guy had leaned down to whisper in your ear and then pulled you towards the bar. Before Calum could even think he was making his way from the V.I.P. booths and heading in your direction. Luke had called out to Calum in exasperation trying to stop him from doing something stupid. It was too late though and Calum had disappeared into the sea of people.

 You were laying down on a table shirt lifted up as the Tequila was poured on your abdomen. You smiled in delight as Derrick licked the salt from his hand. He leaned down tongue gliding along your abdomen to lick up the alcohol. Your skin felt hot at the sensation and your back arched off the table when Derrick began to suck at your skin to create a mark. His head lifted and before he grabbed the lime that was rested between the valley of your breasts he shot you a wink. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and Derrick pulled the lime from his mouth as his head dipped back down to lick at your breasts. “Get the fuck off my wife,” the familiar voice growled, yanking Derrick away from you. You quickly sat up in shock eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Calum. 

“What the fuck man!” Derrick yelled, staring at Calum in anger. Clearly Derrick wasn’t expecting Calum to break up his fun and he stared confusedly at the stranger in front of him. “Who are you?” Derrick asked, glancing back over to you to see that you were pulling down your shirt. Calum glared at Derrick, his fists clenching. When he didn’t respond Derrick chuckled, “Look man I got this one in the bag, there are plenty of other fine girls here so why not check them out.” 

“Yeah I get that but that one-” Calum pointed behind Derrick at you, “That one is my wife, so I suggest you go fuck off before I turn you black and blue.” Your eyes narrowed at Calum’s words and you slid off the table. Seeing him now was making you feel all types of emotions. You felt anger towards him but at the same time sadness because for the first time ever you realized the situation at hand. Calum had cheated. For two whole months he had been in somebody else’s bed and the fact that he was angry at you for almost hooking up with another guy was infuriating. You slipped between Calum and Derrick chest heaving up and down. “Baby come home please,” Calum pleaded, “I’m sorry I will do anything to make it up to you just please come back to me.”

“You made your bed, Calum now you have to lie in it,” you said, staring at him with a hard glare. Calum’s head dropped and his hand came up to wipe away his tears. You scoffed at how he was acting and shook your head at him. You smoothed down your skirt and turned back around to see the Derrick had left, preoccupied with some other girl that had caught his attention. You turned back to Calum and rolled your eyes. “Great there goes my hookup,” you sighed. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Calum asked. “Stop this stupid act and let’s work this out please.” 

“No Calum I’m done. I told you from the beginning that I’ve been hurt before. That I had been cheated on and screwed over and then you go and do the same to me like all the other guys,” you snapped, feeling the tears start to well up in your eyes. “What’s worse is that it wasn’t just a boyfriend cheating on me it was my husband,” you sniffled, feeling the alcohol in your veins ignite your emotions. You held up your hand and then deeply sighed. You couldn’t take it anymore. Cheating was the final straw for you when it came to your relationship and Calum had broken your trust, your heart, and he nearly took your dignity. You had to get back to yourself and with your thoughts running wild it had settled on the one thing that could change everything. You sucked in a deep breath and looked Calum straight in the eye as you said the words loud above the music so he could here.

“I want a divorce.”

The Light Behind Your Eyes (Pt.3)

Originally posted by natpekis

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader - HYDRA x female!Reader - Some mentions of the Avengers

Summary: After being captured by HYDRA while on a mission with Bucky, you witness firsthand just how horrible the organization truly is as they try to make you into their new version of the Winter Soldier.

Warnings: angst - hella violence (like HYDRA brainwashing type of violence) - language

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This stuff is intense. There will for sure be a part four to this bad boy, but lemme tell ya, writing this one was a wild, wild ride. It’ll probably be alternating P.O.V’s from now on in this series. I got pretty carried away and this stuff is just, wild. Y'all are gonna hate me, so I apologize in advance for this. I’M SO SORRY FOR THIS PAIN.

Part One // Part Two

Reader P.O.V

A dull buzzing fills your ears. Every breath that enters your lungs stings. Prying open your eyelids, you cringe as a blinding light invades your vision. Throbbing pains radiate through your skull as the light gradually fades away, lifting the heavy veil of confusion shrouding your senses. Your teeth chatter in your skull as a shiver races down your spine. The air around you chills your bones, and you slowly drag you head up from your chest, watching puffs of your breath dissipate into the shrill air. The room you’re in is made from cement. A large, rusty metal door is directly in front of you, and a camera with a small, flashing red light hangs in the corner by the door. You blink a few times, trying to wash away the pain burning behind your eyes. Your arms dangle above your head, attached to the wall above your head by metal cuffs, the cold, unforgiving metal biting into your wrists. A piercing ache slowly travels the length of your legs as you gingerly pull them out from under you and stretch them out before you. The pain from moving makes you cringe as you settle them into a position that’s more comfortable. You can feel dried blood on your cheeks and chin, the caked on liquid making your skin taut.

Resting your head against the wall, you close your eyes, trying to sort the broken pieces of your memory into something that makes sense. You remember trekking through the snow and following Bucky into the building, then splitting off in different directions. You can visualize the room you cleared and its discarded contents, and walking back out into the hall and hearing something. Then things get fuzzy…

A sudden rush of memory hits you like a train and your eyes fly open.

HYDRA…they…they got me.

Panic spreads like a strike of lightning in your chest as your breathing becomes more labored. You frantically scan the room for any possible escape route, but the only way out is the door, plus you’re attached to the wall and still weak. Looking down at your belt, you see that all of your weaponry has been stripped. Your head snaps up when the sound of a door scrapping open grabs your attention. A tall man dressed in combat boots, long black pants, and a black winter coat steps into the room, closing the door behind him. His face is very square, and his thick black hair is perfectly trimmed. Stubble covers his sharp jawline and he smells heavily of cologne. He takes a few heavy steps into the room, stopping at your feet. His large frame towers over you, casting a shadow on you.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” his accent wasn’t as heavy as other agents you’ve encountered. “Soon, we’ll begin your training. But first, you need to undergo a small procedure, ангел.” Your brows furrow in confusion. Angel? He reaches into the pocket of his coat and digs around, bringing out a small key. You tentatively track him as he walks to your side. He grabs your wrists, and you hear a delicate click as the cuffs drop your hands from their bitter hold. You bring your hands into your lap and pull your legs to your chest as you wring out the pains from your wrists. Small black and purple bruises had already begun to blossom under your skin where the cuffs had their hold on you.

The man crouches next to you, his face only inches from yours. A smile tugs at his pale lips.

“Relax, ангел. You’re going to make us proud,” he promises smugly. Before you could react, he reaches to the back of his boot and pulls out a needle, quickly jabbing it into your arm, puncturing your suit. A howl of pain croaks from your throat, and within seconds, you feel your body go limp, your thoughts disappear, and your vision goes black.

The sounds of a heartbeat and a machine rhythmically beeping stirs you from your heavy slumber. You can hear people quietly chattering around you. The smell of chemicals burns your nose, and the cold metal of the surface you were laying on sends chills through every nerve in your body. Your eyelids flutter open, and another bright light attacks your vision. The chatter dies down, and a door closes. A plastic mask attached to a tube covers your nose and mouth, and your hands and legs have been restrained to the table. A woman wearing a surgical gown, cap, and green latex gloves hovers above you.

“Welcome back, ангел,” she hums. Her voice sounds far away, yet gentle and soothing. You can’t focus enough on her face to make out her features. “Are you ready for the procedure?”

“Wh…what are you…talking about,” you warbled voice is sloppy and nearly incomprehensible.

“Don’t worry, ангел. Just relax, it will be over soon,” she promises as smoke begins to billow in the mask. It fills your airways, and your senses dilute even more. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the doctor’s blurry arm reach for a small, shiny table and grab something thin and black. A part of it catches the light.

“H-hey…wha-what’s that…,” you words blend together as you try to point, but your arm feels like lead and the restraint keeps it from moving more than an inch.

An oddly serene haze invades your senses. Your breathing slows and deepens as your eyelids flutter shut once again. The sweet relief of sleep drifts over you like a warm, thick blanket.

“Alright, ангел. Try to hold still,” her voice is angelic and a warm, comforting feeling washes over you. As your mind begins to drift away, a sudden, sharp, and terrible pain explodes up your right arm. A bloodcurdling scream claws its way out of your throat as your back arches off the table. Every cell in your body feels as if they had just burst into flames and searing pains radiate from your arm. The veins in your arm slowly turn black as the contents of the needle push its way through your system. Your vision flashes and burns a bright white. Adrenaline flies through your veins, your heart beats frantically, and your screams are hoarse as your throat feels as if it’s being ripped to shreds. Then all at once, the pain is too much for your body, and you pass out, collapsing back onto the table.

The doctor removes the empty needle from your arm and graciously walks back to where your head rests, setting the needle back on the small metallic side table. Your heartbeat on the machine slows to a low, calm rhythmic beating.

“It’s okay, ангел. You did so well,” she whispers as she brushes a few strands of hair out of your face.

A few hours later, you awake in a new room. A tan, worn blanket scratches your arms and legs. The pillow under your head is small, and the cot cradling your body grossly smells of must. The room is dimly lit by a dying lamp on a small side table next to your face. Your body is sore, and it takes most of your strength to push the top half of your body up. A weird tingling sensation buzzes in your body. Balancing on one elbow, you throw the blanket off of you and swing your legs over the edge of the cot. Even the thick wool socks on your feet can’t save you from the cold cruelness of the cement floor. Your skin feels warm against the chilly air, despite only sporting a blank tank top and shorts. An antique wooden dresser has been pushed against the wall across from you, and you start to wander over to it, stumbling on your feet at first, but quickly regaining your balance. You pull open the top drawer, finding two stacks of neatly folded clothing tucked inside. You grab one, unfolding it and realizing it’s long sleeved black shirt. You quickly pull it over your body, thankful for the extra layers. The second drawer contains thick black leggings, and you pull on a pair. A few pairs of black leather boots sit beside the dresser, and you grab a pair, deciding it’s better to be wearing them rather than dealing with the freezing floor. You carry them back to your bed and lower yourself onto the edge of the cot. Pulling them onto your feet, you tighten the straps and fasten the buckles on the front. They’re a perfect fit. A chill rushes down your spine.

Your head snaps up at a sudden metallic clang. A pair of dark eyes peers through a slot in the heavy door next to the dresser.

“Good morning, ангел.” Another man. His thick accent makes it hard to discern his words. “Are you ready to start your training?”

“I’m not doing anything for you pieces of shit,” you angrily hiss. The man’s low chuckle is muddled by the door.

“You don’t have a choice, ангел. You see, we have other methods of making you do what we tell you. You are familiar with the Winter Soldier, yes?” His eyes look cruel and cold. Your shallow breathing catches in your throat. “We don’t want to have to resort to these methods, but, if you still refuse, we have no problem with enforcing them.”

A cold sweat makes your hands clammy, and you rub them on your blanket. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“They’re going to come for me, you know,” you stand and saunter over to the door, stopping a few inches from the man’s intense, chilling gaze. “It’s just a matter of time.”

The slot flies shut and the door slides open. The man is huge and grabs your arm, twisting it forcefully behind your back. Your face scrunches in pain, and you fight back the urge to scream.

“Listen to me, ангел,” he calmly whispers into your ear. His warm breath fans over the shell of your ear and you can feel the scrape of stubble against your skin. “The Avengers are not coming for you. You’re going to them.”

“No,” you whimper. His hand flies to your hair and yanks on it, hard. A yelp tumbles passed your lips and your face scrunches in pain. He pulls your head back.

“Look at me, ангел,” you squint at his face, your chest rising and falling quickly. “It’s your mission to destroy them. And you’re going to do it, whether you like it, or not.”

You spit in his face and he throws you across the hall, crashing into the hard cement wall. You crumple to the floor and start to push yourself up when a hard boot crushes your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

“Do you think this is a game, ангел?” He smirks. “Then let’s play a game.”

As he reaches towards you, the buzzing in your veins intensifies, building quickly. WIthin milliseconds, the power becomes too much for you.

“NO!” You scream as a black wave of energy explodes from your body, sending the man flying into the wall. The wall crumbles and cracks on impact, and his body drops to the floor. The buzzing dies down and your breathing is shaky, eyes wide with horror.

What…what the hell just happened?

The man groans and takes his time to rise to his feet, holding the side of his head in his palm. He snaps his eyes to you, a furious anger flaring in his deadly glare.

“Wrong move, ангел.” He stomps over to your crumpled form and forcefully pulls you up from the floor by your shoulders, dragging you down the hall, into a large, open room with a high ceiling made of glass panes. In the center, a few steps lead down to a large chair. It’s enclosed by various machines with a multitude of buttons and meters. The room feels familiar, like you’ve seen it before. You know you’ve never been here, but it’s almost as if -

Bucky. T-the Winter Soldier project. His files. It’s…it’s the pictures from his file.

Fear takes control of your senses and you try to fight back against the man’s hold, but it’s useless. He drags you down the steps and throws you into the chair, hitting a button that sends restraints wrapping around your arms, wrists, legs, ankles, and chest. Another man dressed in an older military uniform walks up to him and hands him something, and he pries open your mouth, cramming in a mouth guard.

“You’re going to want this, ангел,” he smiles. “I’m not going to lie to you. This,” he gestures to the chair and the machines around you, “is going to hurt like hell.” He laughs as an expression of terror flashes across your face. He turns his back to you and ascends the steps. “Let’s begin,” he calls out as he stands at one of the machines. A few other men have filtered into the room, many of them armed and dressed in old military clothing. They take their posts at various machines. Tears prick at your eyes, and a few tumble down as you watch the man pull out an old book. The whirring of machines reverberates throughout the room and a metal bar clamps around your head. More hot tears cascade down your cheeks. A mild shock of electricity races to your feet and your body heaves in response to the pain.

“Мощность,” he yells above the crackles of electricity. All you can focus on are his words and the pain threatening to overtake your consciousness once again.

“Легкий.” Your arms shake through the pulsing electricity terrorizing your body.

“Глаза.” Your toes curl, and you clamp down hard on the mouth guard.

“Капитан.” Your eyes are on fire.

“Чистить.” Your muffled screams become lost in the intensified whirring of electricity.

Black dots cloud your vision. Your breathing is labored.

The machines stop, and the electric pulse recedes. You drop your head to your chest, too weak to hold it up any longer. The hum of electricity still haunts your nerves, making your fingers tingle.

“Ангел?” You can see the man’s boots through your downward gaze. He grabs your hair again, yanking your head up to look at him.

Fuck you,” your voice muffled by the guard between your teeth. He stares at you, then releases your hair, throwing your head back against the hard headrest. Your eyes trail his every step as he climbs back to his spot behind the machine.

Again!” his voice bellows throughout the room. The machines start up again, and as he starts repeating the words, the electric current blasts through your body at an intensified level.

After the third word, the pain is too much, and everything fades away into nothingness.

Ангел - angel

Мощность - power

Легкий - easy

Глаза - eyes

Капитан - captain

Чистить - clean

Part Four

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The Bookworm

TITLE:The bookworm


AUTHOR: mad-about-britain

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine doing a blowjob to Loki in the library and as he ready to cum you are being caught by the last person you thought you’ll see in the library – Thor. 


NOTES/WARNINGS: Explicit (probably I’m not very good in these rating systems). Smutt with a little bit of romance. It’s the first time I’ve written smut so don’t throw smth heavy at me :) Feedback is appriciated ‘cause my self-confidence level is about 2/10

Sorry if you find any typos, English isn’t my first language


There you were on your knees doing a blowjob to Loki in the distant part of the library. Loki started moaning louder as you sucked on him harder and licked with your devious tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, swirling your tongue at the top and sucking it like a lollypop. You looked him in the eyes gripping his hips and shushing to Loki to lower his voice. Though you loved the sound of his moans and growls, you were too afraid to be caught. But your fear came true and you were caught at the peak by the last person you thought you’ll see in the library – Thor. You slowed down but didn’t leave Loki’s cock, now sucking gently and stroking him with your hand. Loki was caressing your hair keeping you in place and away from Thor’s sight.

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