circle throw

Full Circle – A Hiddleswift Short Story


He can already feel the exhaustion in his body as he awakens.  He’s tired.  Emotionally.  Physically.  Probably more so than he has been in a long time.  A direct correlation to the little sleep that the past two nights has provided.  But as he forces his eyes open, he instantly moves them to gaze at the cold and empty space beside of him.  

He keeps them there for a few moments before he allows them to flutter shut once more.  And then as he runs an exasperated hand down his face, his mind falls back to the place it has been so many times before over the past two days.

To her.

Keep reading

the nurse who loved me

Say hello to the shrinking in your head:
you can’t see it, but you know it’s there, so don’t neglect it.

Sam walks into a bar.

There’s a hunt. Werewolves, maybe, or ghouls. He and Dean have been working the case and he’s still not sure which it is, which is kind of a worry. Either way—he knows what works. He sits at the bar and pops his neck, shrugs his shoulders, but it’s just out of habit. He’s not sore anymore, not tired. A relief, after the long months of feeling so shitty with the trials. He can have a beer now without puking, while he waits for Dean to get back from interviewing the sheriff, and hell, he’s going to indulge. Been long enough without.

The bartender’s tall—maybe as tall as Sam is. “What do you need?” he says, and he’s not smiling.

Sam’s dreaming. There’s a hunt, he thinks, and it’s something—it’s pulling at his attention. Angels, and he doesn’t know why he’s so scared of them, why there’s some kind of hollow yawning dread pulling open the pit of his stomach. He looks at Castiel and feels no warmth, feels nothing but pure skittering terror and he

Sam walks into a bar. The light’s dim, the bar long and dark and familiar. Bars are all the same, in the end, and he takes a stool close to the end, leans his elbows on the counter. He wants a drink. The bartender stands in front of him, silent, and Sam says, “Hey, just a pint of whatever’s on tap,” but the bartender doesn’t move. He’s tall. Maybe Sam’s age, or Dean’s. He frowns, sits up a little more. Thinks, maybe the guy didn’t hear him, and he says, “Hey, buddy?” because it pays to be polite even with assholes, and the bartender leans his hands on the counter, looks right into Sam’s eyes, and

Sam spreads his thighs wider, stretches out against the plush leather back of the armchair. Dean’s mouth is—god. He’s almost too sensitive, but the soft thorough cleaning he’s getting is just so good he can’t find it in himself to complain. Rough hands smooth up over his belly, pet over his hips, and when Dean goes to pull back Sam picks his head up off the chair back with an effort, cups the back of Dean’s head and runs his fingers through the soft short hair. “My turn, isn’t it,” he says, and he’s drowsy but he really is more than willing, only Dean picks his head up and licks his lips and grins, and maybe it’s not the wide pleased got-the-cream smile Sam’s used to but it’s pleased enough, and he says, “Nah, I’m just feeling greedy, Sammy,” and he leans in and kisses Sam, soft, quick enough that Sam finds himself leaning forward, wishing for more. Dean’s already zipping him up, though, neatening him away. Sam wishes he would look up. He wants to see Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t know why Dean isn’t

Sam walks into a bar and the bartender looks right at him. It’s like he was waiting. Sam sits at the bar and leans on his elbows, asks for a beer.

The bartender looks at him.

Sam drinks his beer, cold bitter at the back of his tongue, and the bartender looks at him. “What do you need?” the bartender says.

Sam puts his pint down and shrugs. “I’m good,” he says, and it’s the truth. Nothing hurts, and there’s a hunt, and Dean’s healthy and happy, and everything is as it should be. Not like this guy needs to know that, though.

“Of course,” the bartender says, slowly. He talks stiffly, awkwardly. “You are—happy.”

Sam frowns a little, though he smiles, too. “Yeah, buddy,” he says, and toasts the guy with his beer. “I’m good.”

There’s—blood, oh—oh, shit, there’s so much—blood purling out from between his fingers, a weird lucky shot and Dean’s crying out, yelling his name across the awful reeking basement, and Sam wavers, shocked, stares at the blood on his fingers for a weird moment thinking, he didn’t expect this, that this terrible dusty place and this stupid ghoul would be the end, after everything, and he falls to his knees and feels the blood warm against his chilled skin and thinks, Dean—

Sam walks into a bar. There’s a hunt. There’s something—wrong, maybe, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. The bartender is gripping hard onto the brass railing. “Whatever’s on tap,” Sam says, and the bartender looks up at him with weird grief on his face, something so vivid that Sam startles still, for a second, frozen half onto the bar stool, and the bartender says, “I am sorry, Sam Winchester,” and Sam thinks what, he thinks how do you and he also thinks why but then the bartender squeezes his eyes closed and bows his head and

There’s time missing. Miles go by and Sam isn’t—he doesn’t remember them. Dean’s worried, he can tell, even though all he gets when he talks about it is dismissal, lots of ‘oh, the trials,’ and ‘you just need more time to heal,’ and, well, Sam loves him but Dean talks a lot of bullshit, a lot of the time. He’ll crawl out of Dean’s bed and go take a shower and then blink at himself in the mirror, completely dressed and brushing his teeth, and have no idea what happened in the interim. He’ll go for a jog and not remember a thing. He looks at himself in the mirror and he’s okay, he recognizes himself, but sometimes, sometimes he’ll open his own eyes and there in the split second when his eyelids part his eyes spark unfamiliar and he thinks

Sam walks into a bar. There’s a hunt, he knows there is. He just—can’t remember the details, right now.

The bartender looks like he’s been crying, though Sam doesn’t notice until after he’s already asked for a pint, and by then it’s too late—he sits there, awkward, while the guy goes through the motions, pouring off the foam, setting the full glass carefully in front of Sam on a neat square coaster. “Thanks,” Sam says, trying to pass it off as normal.

“Do not thank me,” the bartender says, voice a deep scrape. He leans on the brass rail, right in front of Sam, looking into some middle distance. Sam takes an awkward sip—cold, bitter hops lingering in the back of the throat like sorrow, and it’s hard to swallow it down. The bartender closes his eyes. He says, “I am not sure of my course.”

Sam puts the glass down, cups his hands around the cold solidity of it. “Nobody is,” he says. The bartender blinks at him, and hell, Sam’s half-surprised himself, but this guy doesn’t expect him to be Agent Rose, or a hunter with the answers. They’re just two guys, talking.

“Do you not think—“ the bartender starts, and swallows. He folds his arms over his chest, standing stiff and straight. “I thought, always, that there must be a plan, for all of us. That there must be meaning. Now, I am not so sure.”

Sam shrugs. He and Dean have had this conversation, in various ways, half a dozen times. He always feels like he comes to a different conclusion. “I don’t know the answer to that,” he says, semi-honestly. “I think, all you can ever do is what you believe is right.” The bartender looks directly at him, and Sam shrugs, again. “I mean, what’s the alternative?”

There’s a pause, and the bartender nods. “Of course,” he says, but quietly, like he doesn’t mean for Sam to hear—or like it doesn’t matter, if he does. Sam sips his beer and the bartender nods, and meets his eyes. He seems taller, brighter. His shoulders square out and for a second Sam sees him—pure, strong. Beautiful, and that thought’s a surprise but the bartender earns it, somehow. He smiles at Sam and it’s—beautiful. He says, “Thank you, Sam Winchester,” and all Sam can see after that is light.

(read on AO3)

seareyes  asked:

So for the meetcute prompts could you do number 7 please? 💖

This was so much fun! Thanks for the prompt! And, as always, also on ao3!

Truth be told, Derek had never actually kissed anyone before. Not really.

Sure, he had kissed Paige on the cheek once or twice back in their sophomore year, kissing her farewell when he dropped her off back home after one of their handful of dates. And he might have kissed the back of her hand while asking if she wanted to dance at the winter formal, but that was all.

They had only gone out a few times, gone to a few dances together, but that was before she had officially come out. A few days before winter break, she had sat Derek down and explained that while she’d had a really nice time with him on their dates and at the dances, she was one hundred percent into girls not guys.

Derek had done everything he could to be supportive, hugging her and thanking her for feeling comfortable enough to share something so personal with him, even offering to throw her a coming out party. She had declined, but shortly afterwards she had started dating his younger sister, Cora.

So, he and Paige had never really kissed. And he had never gone out with anyone else after Paige, either, preferring to focus on his schoolwork. He put all of his effort into maintaining his spotless GPA and honing his skills for the basketball team, hoping to be team captain one day.

Besides, he constantly had to worry about keeping the fact that he was a werewolf hidden so as not to draw any unwanted attention from hunters or worse. And so as much as his friends teased him about being an asocial nerd, dating and kissing just weren’t that high on his list of priorities.

Which was why he was still upset with himself for letting Erica and Isaac drag him to some raucous party at Jackson Whittemore’s palatial house. On a school night, no less!

With Boyd out of town visiting family in New York, Erica was without a ride to the wild party, the same one she and Isaac had been talking about nonstop for weeks. Derek being the only other person in their little group of friends with a car, the sleek black Camaro that Laura had passed down to him when she had left for Princeton his freshman year, the scheming duo had turned to him for a ride.

He was helpless to deny them, especially when they both gave him their best puppy dog eyes. How Boyd managed to resist giving Erica whatever she wanted when she jut out her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes oh so innocently, Derek would never know. So, he agreed to drive them to the party, Erica’s promise that Stiles would be at the party perhaps influencing his decision a bit, too. Just maybe.

Because while dating wasn’t very high up on his lift of to-dos and kissing wasn’t something he dedicated himself to pursuing, it didn’t mean he never thought about them. He did. Quite often, as a matter of fact. And the person starring most prominently in his little daydreams and half-baked fantasies he usually reserved for late at night when he couldn’t sleep, was none other than Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles was infectious. Not in a bad way, it was just that everything about him was positively contagious. His enthusiasm, his laughter, his sometimes twisted sense of humor, even his unique way of looking at the world around himself. It was all just contagious.

Derek didn’t know a single person who didn’t laugh when Stiles made some kind of horrendous yet clever pun about whatever time period they were studying in history of whatever formula they were going over in calculus. Even people who, somehow, didn’t like Stiles always cracked a smile at his well placed one liners and sly innuendos.

Except Mr. Harris. But Derek was pretty sure he didn’t have a soul so he didn’t really count.

Stiles was like a ray of sunshine, ushering forth light and warmth to brighten up even the gloomiest day when he strolled into class fashionably late and took a seat in the front row. He never failed to make Derek’s day just a little bit better, whether it be with an offhand joke or a conspiratorial wink in his direction, or even just a smile or wave in greeting when they passed each other in the hallway.

And he was just so genuinely nice, it almost hurt.

He always asked people about how their day was going and actually listened when they answered, sometimes just sitting with someone he barely knew and letting them rant about school or their family or their favorite TV show. When someone was upset, he would just wrap them up in a tight hug or squeeze their shoulder, tell them that he was there if they ever needed someone to talk to.

He never let any bullying go unnoticed, sometimes charging right up to the perpetrator just to divert attention away from whoever was being bullied. He had ended up with his own fair share of black eyes and bloody noses for his troubles, serving weeks worth of time in detention, but it never stopped him.

A few years ago, he had actually smashed Matt Daehler’s phone when the little creep had recorded a video of Erica having an epileptic seizure. Stiles had wrenched the phone out of Matt’s hand and slammed it onto the ground before stomping on it a few times for good measure as he directed his friend Scott to call the nurse.

He was caring and considerate, alway carrying an extra inhaler in case Scott had an asthma attack, keeping an Epipen on hand should anyone have an allergic reaction, his backpack stocked with pads and tampons for people who unexpectedly had their period. He even carried different sized condoms around so no one had unprotected sex if they were too embarrassed to go out and buy their own, giving them away without charging anyone.

Stiles was amazing. And Derek really, really wanted to kiss him.

So, when he saw Stiles sitting down in the circle of people gathering in the living room to play spin the bottle, he threw caution to the wind and took a seat directly across from him. He could feel his ears burn at the curious looks he received from the rest of the people in the makeshift circle, Stiles cocking his head to the side as he scanned his eyes over Derek in blatant curiosity.

Keep reading

Abandoned

Pairing: Lucifer x Child!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2242

Lucifer walked towards the bar, leaning against it as Maze poured him a drink. He released an exasperated sigh as he looked at her, pulling his phone out to check if he missed any calls or texts, placing it onto the bar when he saw that he didn’t. They shared no words as he downed the drink and she poured him another one. They both knew that last night was the craziest Lux has ever seen, and no words could express how exotic it was. He felt powerless last night, and Chloe wasn’t anywhere around. The cops even came to tell them to settle down, but he somehow managed to get them to join the party and he doesn’t remember how. Everything was a blur.

He signaled Maze to not pour him another drink, giving him a water instead, and the two of them sat in silence, staring into nothingness. He sucked in a deep breath, and that’s when he heard it. It was very muffled, but it was there nonetheless.

He looked at Maze with a raised eyebrow. “Do you hear that?” he asked her and she stared at him as if he were insane.

Keep reading

Blackmail

When Danny slipped through the wall into the mayor’s office, it was nearly one in the morning. Despite the hour, Amity Park’s mayor - Vlad Masters - was sitting at his desk sorting through papers.

“Daniel,” Vlad greeted, glancing up. Despite the fact that Danny was invisible, Vlad’s eyes zeroed in on him with disturbing accuracy. “It’s well past your curfew.”

Danny scowled and crossed his arms, letting himself become visible. “I was at the hospital.”

“Ah yes. How is your friend doing?” Vlad went back to making stacks of papers.

“Seven broken bones, a punctured lung, and a severe concussion,” Danny stated. When Vlad had zero reaction, Danny threw his hands into the air. “Seriously? Have have nothing to say about that?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“Like, an apology? A tiny bit of remorse? Some semblance of humanity?” Danny stalked forwards, grabbing onto the back of one of the chairs positioned in front of Vlad’s desk. “It’s completely your fault he’s-”

Keep reading

leliana/warden skyhold headcanons

1. the warden finds what she needs for her quest and immediately heads to skyhold. she shows up during a war meeting, ignoring any guards or agents and bursts through the doors of the war room bc there is no way a bunch of political bullshit is gonna keep her from seeing her love for a moment longer. (maybe she has even managed to dig up some dirt on corypheus, which she slams onto the table before striding around to leliana) then she practically picks leliana up and spins her, both are crying (if morrigan is there, she rolls her eyes and tries to hide her smile) bonus points if the warden was a circle mage. she throws a cheeky wink and smirk over leli’s shoulder at cullen, who is blushing furiously (the warden then takes every opportunity to make out with leliana whenever cullen is around. leliana also thinks his reaction is hilarious)

2. the warden soon finds out that dagna is at skyhold and they immediately start working together on all sorts of things, many of which can be carried in bottles and thrown at enemies (much to sera’s delight). this eventually devolves into a prank war, which goes on for weeks and has many people on edge and paranoid. finally it ends. leliana is the winner.

3. in between spending time with leliana, advising, training recruits, and drinking in the pub (bc she fuckin deserves a break at this point) the warden starts hanging with kieran (he affectionately calls her “aunty”) and soon gets in trouble with morrigan for distracting him from his studies and teaching him tricks that morrigan thinks are ‘immature and irksome’

4. after hearing about what happened with the rest of the grey wardens, the warden is furious, and goes on an angry rant about what “fucking asshats” they’ve all been. any time grey wardens are mentioned around her from then on, she is likely to start cursing again, and maker forbid she runs into one at skyhold when she’s in a bad mood.

5. the warden loves teasing the inquisitor about how easy they have it. comfy bed, big castle, resources, none of alistair’s terrible stews. the inquisitor tries to one-up her but after “have you ever been attacked by shrieks at camp while you’re butt naked and in the middle of sex?” the inquisitor just gives up.

6. the warden brought dog with her. he is getting old now, some days he helps train recruits, others he just naps in the sun and roams skyhold, flashing his puppy eyes at anyone and everyone in order to get treats. he starts getting a bit chubby but the warden isn’t too hard on him about it bc she figures he deserves to relax and be spoiled for once. kieran loves him, morrigan is less than thrilled to find him hanging around asking for belly rubs and to play fetch

7. one day when having a few drinks with varric, he mentions that he has a friend called isabela, and that she claims to have ‘met’ leliana and the warden. she smiles, drifts off into a daydream for a few seconds before confirming. she tells him that isabela was gracious enough to teach her a few tricks. “was this in bed, or on the battlefield?” he asks. “yes.” she replies, with a smirk.

Just Relax // Cisco x Reader

Request: How about a Cisco one where Cisco gets worried because he lost track of reader during a battle and when they get home, it’s slow and sweet? I’ve been wanting a little angst lately, honestly.

Warnings: this is so fucking long I’m so sorry. I got lost in storyline even more than I usually do. Oops 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ but there’s angst and fluff and smut obviously.

Keep reading

How To: Get Out of a Magical Slump

This post is brought to you by my own current magical slump that I’m going to be working at pulling myself out of. So let’s all go at this together. Please feel free to add whatever ideas you have when you reblog! :)

- find a challenge online to do something everyday. Whether it’s witchy, tarot, religious, whatever you feel like. Add a reminder on your phone to show up every day, or leave post its on places you’ll see. 

- find some songs that make you feel ethereal and add them into your current music playlist. Then they’ll show up at random and help swing your mindset to magic. 

- wear an item that makes you feel powerful, like that pentacle or tree of life that’s been sitting on your dresser for a while. 

- take a walk somewhere with a lot of nature. If it’s somewhere wild like the woods, bring a plant guide and a bag, forage a bit. Then you can dry them out and expand your magical components. 

- Never forget about kitchen witchcraft, even if you’re not a kitchen witch. We all eat, and many of us cook to some degree. Even if you just look up the magical correspondences of hummus and peanut butter. Tape the list to the jar, then you’ll be reminded every time you grab a snack.

 - Have a movie night for yourself with a selection of movies/TV shows featuring a (somewhat)more realistic version of magic. Try Practical Magic, Mists of Avalon, The Craft, The Secret Circle, etc

-  Throw a drawstring bag of your favourite crystals in the jeans you always wear

- light incense for absolutely no reason. Scented candles, diffusers, and essential oil burners work great too

- Try to meditate once a day. Set a time if you can. Even if it’s just 15, 10 or even 5 minutes. 

From The Prompt List~ Six

Requested: Yes. Anon asks, “what about 2 with either ethan or tyler”  

Fandom: CrankGameplays

Pairing: None.

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings:

A/N: The prompt is~ “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am?!” For reference this is an AU of sorts. If this is not what you wanted, please tell me and I will rewrite it! …Enjoy!

Originally posted by amynelsons


   (Y/N) gasped, her feet pounding harshly against the forest floor. The shouts of the officers behind her seemed to spur her on. She paused and looked back at the gathered men. They held torches and their dogs sniffed her out. (Y/N) wiped the rain from her brow and took off again. She was glad in pants, her shirt was ripped from the branches as was her cloak, and her shoes would just leave imprints so she left them behind. She could see a clearing up ahead, there she could see the outline of his house. A hunter, Ethan, if she recalled correctly. She ran in a wide circle, hoping to throw off the dogs, as she made her way through the clearing. She was out in the open, but hopefully the cloak masked her form. (Y/N) ran around to the back of the house, grasping the vines, and making quick work of climbing up the side. She hit the window, banging as loudly as she dared. The window was opened quickly and she forced her way through.

“(Y/N)?!” Ethan almost yelled, still half asleep. There was loud barking heard from outside. (Y/N) scrambled to stand and placed a hand over his mouth. Her eyes wide with a finger to her lips.

“Ethan, listen to me,” (Y/N) started, giving him a look when he went to say something. “There are some very dangerous men after me, Nobles, and they want my head on a silver platter. I need you to tell those men that I ran somewhere else. Please, I need your protection.”

“Why should I help you?” he whispered, gently pushing her hand away. (Y/N) watched as Ethan moved to light the candle by his bedside.

“When I came to you, nearly two months ago, and helped you with those bandits, you said you would repay that favor to me. I know that if you were caught, they could have your head too, but I’ll protect you. You can say that I threatened you or you can say that I-” (Y/N) was cut off by a pounding on the door downstairs. Fear flooded through her.

“Just… Wait here.” Ethan handed her the candle and gestured to his bed. She swallowed and sat down on the bed. He grabbed some Sagebrush and lit it, placing it in the bowl on the nightstand as another knock sounded on the door downstairs.

“Please.” (Y/N) whispered causing Ethan to sigh and head downstairs. She heard the door open and the muffled voices of the officers and then Ethan’s voice. She sat the candle down and creeped towards the door, wincing when the wood creaked underfoot.

“What was that?” she heard an officer’s voice. She clutched her cloak beginning to pray to herself. She closed her eyes and listened.

“My wife…! My wife is upstairs and I would allow you to go see but at the moment… She is, uh, indecent. We were in the middle of something when you interrupted.” (Y/N) could hear the smug tone that Ethan held, it made her want to scoff.

“My apologies, Sir. We are here on official business, we were chasing a fugitive through here. It’s a girl by the name of (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is wanted for blackmailing Noblemen for money.”

“And what was this… Blackmail?” Ethan asked curiously and (Y/N) cursed him silently.

“These are married and wealthy Noblemen. (Y/L/N) accused each of them being adulterers and traitors to the Crown.”

“If it were blackmail, don’t you think there is some truth behind her accusations?” Ethan questioned, absentmindedly.

“You fool.” (Y/N) sighed softly as she heard swords being unsheathed.

“You better watch your tongue, peasant, or you might lose a limb in a hunting accident. Wouldn’t want your Missus to be widowed, now, would you?”

“Sorry, of course, my apologizes. If that is all that I can do for you gentlemen, I think it is time I rejoin my Missus upstairs. Thank you for stopping by.” Ethan was quick to ease the tension. (Y/N) held her breath until Ethan locked the door downstairs and came into the room upstairs.

“Thank you.” (Y/N) smiled and pulled Ethan into a hug.

“You’re very welcome…But tell me this, Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am?!” Ethan jokingly whisper-shouts. (Y/N) rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“I do,” (Y/N) says before pulling her cloak tighter around her. “I’ll be leaving now, I don’t want to be a bother anymore than I have been.”

“Wait-” Ethan starts, grabbing her shoulder as she opened the door. “Stay, for the remainder of the night. You need rest and I’d like to give you a proper goodbye, with breakfast and whiskey. I’ll also grant you the use of my horse.”

“Ethan, that is a kind offer but I must decline. I know I have overstayed my welcome and your generosity towards someone like me is astounding.” (Y/N) gave a small, forced, smile.

“Please.” Ethan begged softly, the look in his eye was appealing to (Y/N).

“Okay…”

Happy Birthday Love

Warning: cussing, SMUT, UNPROTECTED SMUT(WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT)

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader, Hank, Raven

Request: hi my birthday is the 17th can i have a charles x reader bday sex cuteness thing thanks :-) ~anonny

A/n: Happy Birthday anonny. I hope you like it and I tried to have it be cute but I honestly think I can’t really keep smut with Charles all that cute, The man does shit to me. Where ever you are, I hope I made it in time. I spent most of my day working on this, through my slight depression that’s been building. I really hope you like it.

Tag list: @marvelismylife @nea90sweetie @mysaria @originalwinchestervamp @incoherentli @fandoms-writer

Originally posted by endingthemes


               You woke to an empty bed. Charles must have gotten up early and didn’t want to wake you. Today felt different, not unusual different but different. It just happened to be your birthday. You got up out of bed and pulled on your (f/c) robe that you knew Charles loved on you. It covered everything and the bottom hem landed about five inches below your ass. It was your go to robe when you wanted to get a little touchy feely with Charles and today was your day so you thought it would be a good idea.

               You pulled your hair out of your face and into a ponytail before walking out of your shared bedroom. You slowly made your way across the mansion to the kitchen. You saw Raven along the way and she just smiled. She knew what today was, she gave you a quick hug and wished you a happy birthday.

               “It will be once I get my hands on a certain telepath.” She giggled as she walked away shaking her head. You made yourself a cup of coffee and found some fruit in the fridge for a quick breakfast.

               You finished your coffee and carried your fruit with you as you made your way to Charles’ study/ office. The door was open and you heard him talking to Hank about something. You leaned against the door jamb watching the two men talk. Charles was sitting on the edge of his desk as Hank stood a few feet from him. Neither man noticed you there until Hank turned to walk towards the door.

               “Oh, hi (Y/n).” Hank tried hard not to look at your robe covered body and tried even harder not to blush.

               “Morning Hank. I hope Charles wasn’t too much of a pain.” You heard Charles chuckle, you walked into the room so Hank could leave. You popped a piece of fruit into your mouth, smirking at Charles as you made your way closer to him.

               “Oh no, nothing like that.” Hank was practically stuttered as he almost tripped over his own feet as he left the room.

               “What are you up to today, love?” Charles extended a hand to you. You graciously took it as he pulled you into him. He took a piece of fruit from the bowl in your hand.

               “Hey, that’s mine.” You smirked at him as he popped the fruit into his mouth. You felt his hand slide down your side and made its home on your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. You had to bite your lip to yourself from letting a soft moan fall from your lips.

               “I know, love, and your mine.” You heard the hits of possessiveness in his voice which sent shivers down your spine. He tilted your head up and placed a soft kiss to your lips. You carded your fingers through his hair, holding him in place so you can deepen the kiss.

               He lifted you up and sat you down on the edge of his desk. His hands slid under the edge of the bottom hem of your robe, only to find you bare. He pulled back and looked down at you. His eyes widened with lust and his demeanor was now almost predatory. You couldn’t help but moan softly at the look he gave you.

               “Really, love. You walked all the way down here, like this.” You nodded your head. You didn’t care what the others thought of you because they all knew you were Charles’.

               “Well, can you blame me? It is my day, isn’t it?” You looked at him innocently. “Besides, darling. No one noticed that I have just this on.” You tugged the rope that held the front of your robe together, letting it fall off your waist as you shrugged off the top of your robe.

               Charles attacked your neck and shoulder. Nipping and sucking dark marks on your shoulder and neck. You had your fingers in his hair, racking your nails softly over his scalp which caused him to groan against your skin. You started unbuttoning his shirt and shoved it off his shoulders. He stepped away from you and quickly closed the door to his study, locking it to make sure no one walks in. You sat there on the edge of his deck, you pulled your robe away from our body and dropped it on the floor. Charles made quick work of his pants and the rest of his clothes, not wanting to make you feel under-dressed.

               He made his way back to you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He placed your legs on either side of his head as he looked up at you, smirking knowing exactly what he was about to do. “Happy Birthday, love.” He buried himself between your legs, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan. You laid back onto his desk, arching your back off the hard wood. You felt Charles dig his fingers into the tops of your thighs, pulling a louder moan from you. He then slipped one hand from your thigh down and slipped two fingers inside you. He loved to make you squirm with his tongue and fingers. Thrusting his fingers in and out of you, pulling moans and whimpers from your lips. You let one of your hands reach for him, digging into his hair. You could feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and Charles knew you were getting close. The sounds you made were getting high pitched. He took his fingers out of you and replaced them with his tongue as his fingers rubbed harshly against your clit. The knot snapped. You came undone with his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He stood up and looked down at you, your juices made his lips glisten which caused you to reach up for him. You needed him right then and there, he needed you just as bad.

               He leaned down, pressing his body against yours causing you to moan as you felt him rub through your sensitive folds. He lightly grabbed your jaw, holding your face so he could kiss you. Sliding his tongue across your bottom lip, demanding entrance. You gladly gave him, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You whined when he pulled away.

               “You ready for your present, my love?” You nodded your head as you tried to keep your breathing even. He pulled you up and helped you stand for a moment before laying you back down on the hard wood of his desk, chest down. You felt a sting to your ass followed by more. “You didn’t think I would pass up giving you your birthday spankings, did you?” You heard the smirk in his voice. He gave you a swat for each and every year, causing your ass to turn red.

               The next thing you felt was him teasing your entrance. He slowly and torturously pushed into you. You moaned as you stretched around him and he moaned at the feeling of how tight you were. Once he was fully seated into you, he sat there for a few moments. You needed him to move. You lifted your lower body up, showing him you were more than ready for him to move.

               He let his hands rest on your hips, gripping you tightly. He pulled back and slammed back into you. He placed his forehead against the center of your shoulders as he thrusts hard and deep into you. You felt him twitch inside you as he continued his pace.

               “Fuck, Charles.” You managed to moan out, more like almost screamed. He pushed himself to slam into you harder. You could feel the knot forming again in your stomach. Charles lifted one of your legs and set it on the desk, causing him to go deeper into you. Both of you moaned loudly at the feeling of him sliding deeper into you. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping skin filled the room. The feeling of Charles enveloped you completely. He was slamming into you, surrounding you, and completed you completely. He slipped his fingers to your clit again, rubbing harsh circles on it. Throwing you over the edge. Silently screaming as your orgasm took over your body, dragging Charles over with you. Shooting himself deep inside you. The both of you chanting each other’s name, fuck and a slue a various curse words as he worked the two of you through your highs.

               He kissed your back as he pulled out of you. He helped you stand up right then helped you sit on the edge of his desk again. He was about to grab his pants but you stopped him, pulling him back to you.

               “Where do you think you’re going my dearest?” You looked up at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a simple soft kiss.

               “I was going to go get something to clean you up with, love.” You silently said oh and giggled.

               “You do remember that I can teleport, right?” You giggled at him when he remembered your mutation. “Really, darling. You’re a telepath and you freaking smart but you couldn’t remember that I’m a teleporter.” You chuckled softly. “Why don’t you grab your clothes and unlock the door. Then I’ll take us up to our room and celebrate my birthday some more.” You winked at him which caused him to smile at you. He did as you said and you wrapped your arms around him once again. Teleporting you both up to your shared bedroom, in bed with him on top of you.

               “God, I love you (Y/n).”

               “As I love you, my dearest Charles.”

               “Happy birthday love.”

Just Friends

Request: Hi there! Could you maybe write a story where the reader is a member of the team but just uses one of the guys for sex (you can pick the guy)? Maybe the guy could either develop feelings for them and they spurn the romantic advances or the guy is worried that the reader will develop feelings but they guarantee that they won’t. I think it’d be interesting to see the guys put in a situation they’re not used to of having non-reciprocated feelings, just physical attraction. Thanks! :)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, oral (female receiving), rejection (poor Dean)

Word Count: 878

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

You and the boys were back at the motel room after a hunt. You’d all showered and were just hanging out. You walked out of the bathroom in a pair of short shorts and a skin tight tank top, with no bra. You noticed the look that Dean gave you as you stood in front of the mirror to dry your hair. You returned the look he gave you and shook your backside a little for him

“Guys!” Sam shouted, shaking you and Dean back to reality.

“Sure Sammy, tacos sound fine.” he said, Sam getting up to leave.

“You just wanted an excuse to get him out of here” you told Dean as he stood up and walked your way. You put the hair dryer down and started combing through your hair.

“We haven’t had much time together lately.” he said as he came up behind you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You probably won't get to this today (for the ides of march) but what about a tsukishima scenario where him and his history nerd gf go on a date to a museum and she's super exited over the Julius Caesar exhibit and he's super excited over the dinosaurs? Overall just really cute??? Thank BB

《I absolutely had to do this for the Ides of March ‘cause I actually am treating it like a holiday. Also, it wasn’t until now did I realize that I referred to him as Kei throughout the entire thing, because in my mind I guess I’m on first name basis with him now, lol. It’s been a while since I’ve written happy Kei and? I liked it? I also learned a bunch of cool new dinosaur facts so props to that》

Tsukishima Kei didn’t quite get why his girlfriend loved the Roman emperors so much. They were all old, narcissistic sadists who, even if they did lead one of the most inarguably powerful empires in history, all seemed to have the temperamental issues of a toddler. The only emperor Kei didn’t have a problem with was Marcus Aurelius, but he was completely disregarded by her. She actually liked the sadists, the numbskulls, the men who made their race horses part of the Roman consul. She adored Caligula, Elagabalus, and this morning, when she rushed over to his house and told him that they absolutely had to go on a date to see the one day Julius Caesar exhibit at the history museum downtown, Kei couldn’t have dreaded his life more. Truth be told, he would’ve slammed the door on her face if it wasn’t for the promise that she’d take him to the dinosaur exhibit and buy him coffee later on.

Although, now that he was at the museum itself, he was glad he accepted the offer.

He had never seen her more excited in her life. The moment Kei admitted that he knew jackshit about the emperors, she practically squealed. He didn’t know why, but she flushed up almost instantaneously, bursting out into a little rant about Quintillus, or whomever. Kei didn’t quite understand why she got so happy, or how, but he did know that he absolutely loved the way she sat on the edge of the driver’s seat, clutching onto the steering wheel just a bit tighter as she got deeper into the one sided conversation, and the neverending smile that grazed upon her lips. He loved it, and if she was already this excited on the car ride there, the museum was going to be one hell of an experience.
“I honestly don’t get why you’re so in love with some old, dead guy, __.” He found himself asking her once she parked in front of the museum. She gave him a soft look, the one that made his heart almost stop in his chest, her cheeks still a bit pink from her spiel, and she clicked her tongue.
“I don’t get why you’re so in love with some old, dead… lizards.”
“Reptiles.”
“Lizards.”
“Well, I guess I’m not gonna be the only one learning something new today, hm?” He smiled, hurriedly pressing a soft, chase kiss on the corner of her mouth before leaving the car, watching her giggle from the inside. She got out and immediately grabbed his hand, brushing her fingertips against his before she intertwined their fingers.
“We’re gonna see Julius first, right?” She pondered.
“Oh, so you’re on first name basis with Mr. Caesar now, are you?”
“Well, what else am I supposed to call him? It doesn’t matter what I call him, you said it yourself, he’s just an old, dead guy.”
“Oh, so you’re agreeing with me now?”
She paused for a moment, her mouth agape, trying to articulate words to fire back at him. Kei stood on the steps with a victorious smirk, kneeling over to meet her at eye level.
“Did I win this one?”
“Uh-huh.”
Kei smiled, staring back at her silently for a moment before pulling her up the steps with him. Kei had always loved this museum, a large, spacey enclosure with a replica of a Mastodon greeting its visitors at the door. A giant Newton’s Cradle display was set off to the corner, giddy children circling around it and throwing around the balls like it was a toy. There was a giant ‘marble sculpture’ of Julius Caesar by the steps, its authentic facade given away by the small code number right underneath his kneecap.
“If the entire exhibit is like that, I’m going to stab myself.” She had joked, sparing it one last glance as she trailed in front of him on the stairs.
“Twenty-three times?”
“Too soon!”
“Oh please, you set yourself up for that one.”
She paused for a moment, reaching the top of the steps, then spun around.
“You’re right, I did.” She giggled, grabbing his hands in hers. “I wanted to see if you’d say it or not.”
Kei rolled his eyes, then willingly followed her into the exhibit nearby. She almost immediately started running her mouth, not only capturing his attention, but a group of kids nearby. He had almost laughed, she had known so much they must’ve thought she worked here, or something. She was oblivious to her little crowd, and every so often she’d look up at him, her eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled, then continued spewing out more information than the info cards on each poster. There were moments where he had accidently zoned out, lost in the expression of her, subconsciously waving her arms around and clapping at whatever the hell it was that she found so exciting. Kei thought it was adorable, painfully so, that there were moments he had to look away or else he was sure he’d find himself in a heap on the floor. There was a moment that she had stopped, just to admire the armor they had put on display. It wasn’t Julius’, but it was someone’s, an old artifact locked up behind a glass chamber and red ropes. She looked up at it fondly, her fingers tapping mindlessly against the ropes.
“You’re so adorable.” Kei caught her off guard as he whispered into her ear, amused by the small gasp she made from being startled. “I think you’re the only person in the world who could talk about a dead narcissist and still sound sexy.”
She guffawed, covering her mouth and nearly doubling over. Her cheeks flushed red, suddenly, and her grip on his hand became bone crushing.
“Never say that to me again, oh my god.” She managed to strangle out in between giggles. “I think we’re done here, I don’t think I ever wanna look at Julius Caesar again.”
“Dinosaur time?” Kei found himself asking, even though he knew the obvious answer was ‘yes’. She nodded, and it was her turn to follow him around now, and the thought of it made him flush up a bit. He knew he was going to run his mouth, the event was inevitable, and part of him really wished the dinosaur exhibit was closed so he didn’t have to. He wasn’t as comfortable with speaking as she was, the thought of dragging in a small crowd of children like she did set off an anxiety alarm in his head and oh god, his skin was crawling. Although, by the time he reached the exhibit, and there was a small velociraptor to greet him, the anxiety alarm was dismantled, and the useless trivia trigger was set off.
“You know real velociraptors were about the size of a turkey, so this whole model is completely inaccurate?” He began. He felt a bit insecure about all of this, for some odd reason, and when he looked back at her to see her nodding at him with a small smile of reassurance, he felt safe. He sighed and continued, pointing out his favorite dinosaurs and spewing the weirdest facts about each to the point where he actually surprised himself a bit.
“Hey, Kei, are those the Brachiosaurus’?”
“The one on the left is, good girl.” He found himself saying, not even bothering to correct himself with the ‘good girl’ comment, and continuing. “The other one is an Apatosaurus, you can tell the difference, ‘cause Brachiosaurus has longer front legs, see? They belong to the order sauropoda, which were the largest land animals to ever roam earth, so obviously these models aren’t to scale…” He found himself rambling on again, interrupted by her sudden giggling. “What?” He asked, suddenly growing self conscious. This is what he feared, coming off as too annoying, talking too much, but then she leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a deep kiss on the lips, the anxiety of that melted away, and a whole new fear creeped up on him. Although the dinosaur exhibit was clear, most of the museums visitors flocked in the main attraction for the day, he still could help but flush at the fear of being caught.
“You think I’m cute when I talk?” She muttered through the kiss, “God, you’re the cutest thing ever. I could listen to you talk about dead lizards all day if you let me.”
“Why’d you cut me off, then?”
“‘Cause I wanted to tell you that you looked like the Brachiosaurus up there.”
Kei snorted, eyeing the model quickly before looking back at her.
“Really now? Is that what this is all about?”
She nodded, then pointed at the small, prehistoric bird that was propped beside its leg.
“And that’s me, clinging to you like the small, desperate animal I am.”
“Oh, that’s a Merriam’s Teratorn. Its pretty much the prehistoric equivalent to your modern day vulture. They were pretty badass, so relating to one isn’t that big of a tragedy.”
“Oh my god, is there anything you don’t know, you nerd?” She said fondly, still propped up on her tiptoes as she ran her hands through his hair. He only smirked in reply, looking around the room for people before quickly pecking her lips.
“You should give me twenty two more of those.” She hummed.
“Why?”
“For the Ides of March.”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes, letting her slip down from his arms suddenly. “You’re treating this like it’s an actual holiday.”
“You treated the announcement of “Jurassic World Two” like a holiday, so let me live.” She shrugged. Kei shrugged, muttering a quick, ‘fair point’, before grabbing her hand and pulling her along again.
“You know I love you, right?” He said suddenly, in the middle of admiring a Dilophosaurus pelvis, the most unromantic setting for him to say such a thing.
“Really, I didn’t know that.” She said with sarcasm.
“Oh, quit it. I’m trying to be cute here.”
“While looking at the reproductive tract of a dead lizard?” Kei huffed, looking down at her from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll take it. I’d rather it be that than Julius’ stab wounds.”

For schizoress, whose idea this was originally :)

Sometimes I see people’s prompts in the tags and I just….! X-x!! Hope you enjoy and it’s okay I took your ideas and ran with them! Seb says it’s too early for clothes, but even he knows the dangers of cooking bacon naked u_u

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Final Bows in ‘Hamilton’ on Broadway (NYT):

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s final bows for his farewell performance in “Hamilton” on Saturday night seemed routine, if overly humble for the departure of the show’s star and mastermind. He even shared his bows with the other cast members also exiting the show, including Phillipa Soo and the Tony winner Leslie Odom Jr.

But then the theme song to “The West Wing” kicked in from the orchestra pit.

Mr. Miranda giggled and took a couple of shy bows, only to turn around and be embraced then pushed back to the front of the stage by Christopher Jackson, who plays George Washington, for a proper bow.

Still, the curtain call lasted no more than two and a half minutes, despite fervent applause, which had been consistent throughout the night. The opening number received multiple standing ovations, as did many others. But Mr. Miranda and other performers would pause for only a minute each time before moving the show forward.

Afterward, in the pouring rain, hundreds and hundreds of fans filled West 46th Street, waiting for Mr. Miranda to emerge from the stage door at the Richard Rodgers Theater.

Instead, Mr. Miranda appeared, “Evita”-like, on a balcony atop the theater’s marquee. Holding an umbrella and waving to fans, he paced from one side of the marquee to the other, occasionally stopping to hold his left hand over his heart to show gratitude.

Then he was gone.

“It’s over, folks,” a police officer yelled as he tried to keep the crowd out of the street. “There’s no more.”