do you know how hard it is to work with dark caps

... Somehow, Still Talking About This Captain America Shit (Now With Bonus Spider-Man and Agents of SHIELD)

So now Secret Empire has revealed its Shyamalan Twist and given the readers a Good Guy Steve Rogers as well as Hydra Cap, and the kinds of dickbags who, when this whole bullshit began were dismissing people’s complaints with “oh come on, don’t you know how comics works, it’s all going to be put back at the end, blah blah blah…” are crowing I-Told-You-So’s.

But here’s the thing:

Yeah, fucknuts.  We always knew this.

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Something Just Like This ~Jeff Atkins x Reader~

Requested: Can I request a Jeff Atkins imagine about morning after with him. And like Jeff would be so cute whispering sweet nothings in his gfs ear while also saying some dirty jokes lolol omg I CANT

The human body contains an innumerable amount of nerve cells. The best we can do is estimate that there are some billion. It is incredible how there are billions of nerve cells working in our bodies and something as simple as the touch of one person can send all of those imperceptible cells into a fervor.

It’s 9:05 on a Sunday morning. The window is slightly cracked, letting the fresh autumn air circulate in. Her chest rises and falls rhythmically with shallow breaths as she pretends to still be sleeping. Small circles are being drawn on her back, clockwise, then counter clockwise. Then it switches to a word, or rather, a name. Jeff.

His fingers drag across her skin gently. First he writes it how you would normally write your name. Then in cursive, in all caps, capitalizing every other letter, looping letters, block letters.

“Are you marking me?” she mumbles tiredly. She can feel him laughing as he wraps his arms around her midsection, pulling her flush against his chest. He kisses the top of her head, nuzzling his face into her hair where traces of his cologne are trapped within the tresses. He’s everywhere. In her hair, on her skin, and where he doesn’t leave a physical presence he takes up residence in the place where her mind wanders.

“In more ways than one,” a smug tone drips off his tongue as he brings his one hand up to grasp her throat loosely, his thumb rubbing one of many dark purple splotches.

“Jeffff,” she whines, scrunching her neck up. Those are gonna be a bitch to cover up, but he loves them. He loves the way they whisper I was here. I will be here for as long as you want me. I love you. I love you.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he whispers into her ear, letting his lips linger. A shiver works its way down her back involuntarily. It’s almost annoying- how easily he gets to her. Just the sound of his voice is enough to set her skin on fire.

“You’re awful,” she tries to sound stern, but there’s a teasing tone in her voice that gives her away. It’s hard to be annoyed when images of the previous night and all the nights before that flood her mind.

“Yeah?” he questions, an impish inflection shaping his voice, “tell me, which part was less than satisfactory?”

He cups the bottom of her jaw with his palm and pushes upward gently, stretching her neck without causing pain. The bed jostles as his weight shifts to lean over her, his lips ghosting over the thin skin of her neck. It starts with soft pecks that progress to biting and sucking until the unblemished skin becomes a dark shade of red and purple. “Was it this?” he asks against her skin.

His hands grip her bare thighs, wrapping them around his waist. His fingers drag down from the top of her thighs down to the bend of her knees and then back up. Instinctively, her arms lock around his neck, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “Was it this?” he asks against her lips.

“Oh hush. You’re perfect and you know it,” her voice is breathy as she tries to swallow her own desire. He is perfect, in every sense of the word. He has the kindest heart she has ever known.

“Perfect enough to make you happy?” he says earnestly. He lifts his head to be able to see her face clearly and wholly. Her cheeks have developed a pink tint and her eyes are soft and dreamlike, like she’s looking at the gates of heaven.

“Perfect or imperfect, I am happy,” she grabs his face between her hands delicately, “I’m happy and I love you.”

“Say it again,” he begs as his eyes flutter shut.

“I love you, Jeff Atkins.”

And then he’s kissing her. His lips are familiar but the feeling of them on hers makes her heart race like it’s the first time all over again. His body presses down against hers and she can feel every bump of hard muscle under soft skin. The distance between them is virtually nonexistent. Her heart hangs suspended in the space where she ends and he begins.

“You know,” she says in-between kisses, “this is why the morning after always turns into round two.”

“Sorry babe, I’ll work on keeping my hands to myself,” he laughs, burying his face into her neck.

“That was not a complaint, you keep your hands right where they are,” she returns his laugh whilst running her fingers through his hair.

“Yes ma’am,” he kisses her jaw, “I love you. I adore you with all my heart.”

“That makes me pretty lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he assures, “but speaking of being ‘lucky’, how ‘bout that round two?”

“You’re relentless,” she giggles pleasantly, pulling him closer.

“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop.”

“Well that would make me a liar,” this time she kisses him, initiating an evocative situation. He responds immediately, his hands tangling in the thin lacy fabric covering her bottom half.

To be adored by a person with such a pure heart is to be loved absolutely. Few ever meet a person like that, but when they do it is significant. It marks a before and after in their life, and how lucky they are to have been loved by a person who knows what it means to love without limit. How lucky they are to have something just like this.


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All Or Nothing - Smut

Originally posted by dylanmysunshine

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 6,244
AN: College AU, all human. This was never meant to be published tbh but you can thank @writing-obrien​ for it getting done. Also shout out to @hardladyheart​ for her late night motivation and @sarcasticallystilinski​ for spitballing title ideas with me.

The song that’s sung is obviously not mine, it’s by State Champs. Listen HERE.



You transferred into Berkeley college in the beginning of your sophomore year. You hated starting a new school, but at least it was college and not high school. You’d been here a few weeks. You hadn’t made any friends yet, just your roommate, but you were more acquaintances. She was an art major and a little quirky, plus her boyfriend lived off campus so she wasn’t around much.

Being a music major had it perks. There were a lot of hot guys in the music department, but most of them were too involved with their own projects to notice you. You were pretty quiet, always lost in your own head. No one would have guessed that you weren’t the least bit shy. And you liked to keep it that way.

However, life had become boring. You finally had the hang of your classes and schedule but you needed to find something else to do with your time. Which is why you found yourself in the music building, standing in front of the bulletin board. Most of the notices were the same, people selling instruments or looking for them, people looking for practice space, advertisements for open mic nights. But one flier in particular caught your eye.

It wasn’t fancy at all, maybe a little creased and wrinkled from being in someone’s pocket. It was plain white, written on with black Sharpie.

GUITARIST WANTED

FOR COVER BAND

MUST LIKE/PLAY ROCK MUSIC, POP PUNK.

CALL SCOTT

310-422-1124

There was a crudely drawn Chewbacca next to it, holding what looked to be a guitar. You chewed your bottom lip in thought. You could do that. You fit the qualifications. You pulled out your phone, typing the number in and saving it to your contacts for later.

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Something There

Overview: Four years have passed since the war and you and Draco are now soon to be married. But as his insecurities catch up to him, he begins to wonder why someone like you would ever want to be with a former Death Eater like him. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Word Count: About 1,400.

Warning(s): Some fluffy fluff.

Note: Draco x Reader Beauty and the Beast retelling loosely based off of “Something There” (see below).


Draco watched as you twirled around the kitchen of the Malfoy Manor, a sterling silver spoon in hand. In a cozy robe and pajamas, he thought you were quite a sight. His favorite sight in the world, nevertheless.

“One more week,” you sang. “That’s seven more days until we’re married.” After placing your dishes in the sink, you sat down at the dining table next to Draco. “Can you imagine?”

“Seeing as we already live together,” said he, gesturing to the vast interior of the manor, “I quite easily can.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “It’s still not the same. Soon, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.” You paused. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Although he replied with a nod, Draco couldn’t help but frown at the sound of his last name. What was once a word he flaunted about and held to the highest esteem had turned into a scarlet letter after the Second Wizarding War.

He furrowed his eyebrows, dragging his spoon along the rim of his bowl. Soon, you would bear the name Malfoy. Malfoy. A name tarnished and sent to Azkaban and back as nothing more than a patch on his parents’ clothing.

And the more he thought about it, the more Draco realized that wasn’t a burden he wanted to share with you.
__________

A day passed and Draco still had an unsettling feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wear long-sleeved shirts, but now he could hardly bare glancing at his Dark Mark.

Is this what being a Malfoy meant?

“Draco,” you said, climbing into the bed as you stared at his back, “what’s the matter?”

He tucked his hand under a pillow. “Nothing, love. Just tired, is all.”

“I don’t believe you.” He felt the mattress shift ever so slightly as you drew nearer to him. “Before all else, Draco, I am your friend. Before being your fiancée, your girlfriend, your anything– I’m still just your best friend.” You peered over at him, his eyes focused on the wall. “So why on earth would you expect me to believe that lie?”

Sighing, Draco turned on his other side to face you, propping himself up on his arm. He noticed the way you scrunched your nose in concern, a wrinkle appearing between your eyebrows.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, babe,” you pleaded. Your face softened as you examined his tired eyes, bringing your hand to brush against the cold skin of his face. “Is it the wedding? Are we going into this too soon?”

“No, of course not. It’s not–” He took a deep breath, unsure of what he wanted to say. Draco captured your hand in his, pulling it near his chest. He stroked the calloused pad of his thumb against your knuckles absentmindedly. “If I had to describe you in one word, it would be perfection.”

You quirked an eyebrow, unsure of how to react. “I’m no where near perfect, but– Don’t try to change the subject.”

He let out an indignant chuckle. “I wasn’t finished. I only meant…Just look at yourself and then look at me.”

“I see a witch and a wizard.”

“Funny,” said Draco with a straight face. “But really look. Because when I look at you, I see a compassionate, intelligent woman who fights for what’s right.” His eyes darted to his clothed forearm, the black mark almost visible through his white night shirt. “When I look at myself, I see is a monster. A beast. A coward, at best.”

You stayed silent, Draco’s hand still in yours. “I think your perception is tainted,” you said, withdrawing your hand from his to gently push back at his sleeve. He caught sight of a sliver of his Dark Mark, causing him to wince. Draco saw you reaching for a black marker next to your journal on the nightstand.

You uncapped it, taking hold of his hand.

“What are you–”

You silenced him with a brief kiss on the lips. You sat up and moved his arm onto your lap. “When I see you, Draco, I see someone who shouldn’t be defined by their mistakes.”

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A Secret | SICHENG

so you’ve chosen a secret for your seven minutes in heaven? collab with @versigny and co, choose another path here

Genre: frat/college!au | fluff | mild angst sexual themes

Member: Sicheng / Reader

Word Count: 10,400+

Warnings: language, references and usage of drugs and alcohol, sexual themes

Originally posted by taeflower

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Fire and Ice // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Prompt: He’s a die-hard Mets fan, but you just so happen to be dedicated to the Yankees + request

Warings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fingering, Oral (both recieving), Different Kinks (masterbation kink also releasing on girl’s face), Basically the dirtiest and most descriptive smut I think I’ve ever written. 

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Word Count: 6,200 (Sorry not sorry, I got carried away with the details)

Song: Bad Things by Camila Cabello and Machine Gun Kelly

A/N: I literally grew up loving the Yankees (still do) and I honestly don’t know how I hadn’t thought of this before. Also, get ready guys ‘cuz some cool things will be happening the next few weeks and I really hope y’all like it. 

P.s. I was originally gonna post a gif, but then I saw these two pictures and fucking lost it.

Your name: submit What is this?

 

“Oh, for the love of God!” The young woman complained before taking a long gulp of her drink as she watched her team’s pitcher fail for the fourth time tonight. “Sal, I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Well, at least you’re still in the lead.” The bartender chuckled, wiping down the countertop in between the two.

“Yeah, no thanks to Bryan Mitchell.” She sighed, shaking her head in disappointment.

It wasn’t exactly one of the biggest games of the season, but to her it just about was. The Mets had a surprising comeback in 2016 and the last thing her Yankees needed was to lose to that pathetic excuse of a baseball team. With her eyes glued on the television in this small but cozy downtown bar, (Y/N) placed her glass of whiskey back on her lips and let the hard liquid tear its way down her throat.

As soon as the batter of the opposing team failed to successfully hit the ball, (Y/N) let out a much needed breath of relief. Her attention was completely dedicated to the game playing on the tv screen. Well, that is, until she heard the sound of the front door opening. She didn’t quite know why, but (Y/N) felt inclined to look at whomever was arriving at this small bar she frequented so much. And, boy, was she glad she did.

Her breath hitched in her throat the second she caught sight of the incredibly handsome guy walking inside, a backwards cap settled on his dark brown hair that she felt the sudden desire to run her fingers through. The first thing she noticed was the sexy as hell scruffy, but surprisingly tame, beard on his jaw, her imagination immediately lighting on fire with dirty thoughts. His toned arms and veins straining against his muscles as he coincidentally sat on the stool beside her and lifted his arm to get a hold of the bartender was what caught her focus next. The employee instantly strode towards the beautiful stranger and asked what he wanted to drink. He politely made his order and (Y/N) couldn’t find it in herself to take her gaze off of his plump and inviting lips.

Embarrassment like never before washed over her now blushed cheeks when he, suddenly, turned to her with a confused expression and she realized she had been caught staring. She tried her best to dart away from his stare, but his eyes locked onto hers and eager chills ran down her spine when a small smirk made its way on his pink lips. She took the opportunity to really look at his eyes and they certainly didn’t fail to make her knees weak. They weren’t just a regular hazel color, they were warm with a liquid golden-brown that also had a spark of mischief in them she felt so inclined to get to know. It was strange how they both connected so easily just through looks even though neither one of them believed in love at first sight. The two did, however, believe in infatuation at first sight.

The smirk on his face didn’t leave even when she managed to break the stare the moment she heard the crowd cheering on the tv and she, immediately, turned to discover what just happened in the baseball game. Dylan certainly noticed that his Mets had just made a homerun, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the girl in the stool next to him. She wore high-waisted jean shorts that definitely worked in favor of her, breath taking, legs and his mind already came up with different scenarios of them spread before him. Her shirt wasn’t revealing in any way, it was just a plain Star Wars tee, and yet he still felt attracted to it. Maybe it’s the fact that he already knew they had a common love for this geeky movie series without even needed to exchange in small talk. But, the way her natural hair perfectly fell on her shoulders made Dylan want to push it aside and nibble down on her inviting neck.

“Are you serious?!” The gorgeous girl shouted, angrily pointing towards the screen even though she knew the umpire couldn’t actually hear her. “That was clearly foul play!”

Her words sparked interest in him and, reluctantly doing so at first, Dylan eventually turned his head towards the sports game. A smile lit up on his face as he watched his team celebrate their newest point only to, suddenly, remember the girl he had his eye on was complaining about this very achievement.

“Foul play?” Dylan questioned and (Y/N) immediately turned around towards the source of the charming voice. “Wait, are you a Yankees’ fan?”

“A proud one to be exact.” She smiled happily and if it weren’t for his shock with this new discovery, he certainly would’ve swooned at how beautiful she was.

“Perfect.” He sighed, only now realizing the bartender had left his drink in front of him when he was too busy gawking at her just moments ago.

“What?” She asked, genuinely confused at his odd reaction and watched him take a sip from his bottle of beer. Then, the realization hit her like a truck and she shook her head with disappointment. “Oh, no. You’re a Mets fan, aren’t you?”

Dylan didn’t even say anything. He just put his bottle back down on the surface and reached behind his head to turn his baseball cap forwards. Immediately revealing The New York Mets logo stamped on the hat and (Y/N) held back her laughter at the unexpected situation they found themselves in.

“A proud one to be exact.” Dylan repeated her words and, this time, (Y/N) actually let a laugh fall from her lips. It was music to his ears and he desperately wanted to hear it again.

Their attention was back on the game when the sound of bickering and chaotic commotion came from the tv, both now focused on what was happening. Neither one of them knew why the two teams were now fighting, but their hearts lodged in their throats as they watched the players lunge at each other. It was hard to tell who exactly started the fight, but by the commentaries coming from the voice-overs it seemed to be the Yankees’ fault.

“Of course.” Dylan shook his head, taking another gulp of his beer. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

(Y/N) immediately turned to glare at him, rage and frustration rushing through her veins at the sound of disregard towards her favorite baseball team.

“Excuse me?” She hissed, completely offended at his remark.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does the 2000 World Series not ring any bells to you?” He retorted with a cocky smirk.

“You mean the year we completely destroyed your team’s ass?” She replied, a grin on her face as she proudly spoke. “Something we had already accomplished countless times and would continue doing ‘till, literally, this very day.”

“Roger Clemens and Mike Piazza.” Dylan simply stated, chosing to ignore her bragging and (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the familiar names.

“There’s no proof Clemens intentionally hit Piazza in the head with that fastball.” She defended and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Seriously? You’re really going to defend someone who gave a fellow baseball player a concussion just because he had terrible anger management?”

“Okay, you know what?” (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “At least we have players that are actually good at pitching.”

That spiteful comment was enough to spark something in him other than desire for this girl and, needless to say, Dylan was outraged. No one can just mock his beloved Mets and think they can easily get away with it.

“Says the girl whose team lost to us, their biggest rivals, in a 15 to 6 defeat in 2008.” Dylan retaliated and didn’t expect the sudden chuckle (Y/N) let out.

“Sure, but what’s one losing game compared to the 27 different World Series said girl’s team has already won?” She shrugged and Dylan hated the fact that she was right. “Making her baseball team the one with the most wins ever.

“And sweetie,” (Y/N) continued, placing a hand on his thigh that sent lustful jolts throughout Dylan’s entire body. “You’re sad little team isn’t even close to being an actual rival of ours, not when you’ve only won a pathetic amount of 2 World Series. How about you try to insult me when you catch up with us big boys, huh?”

“Fuck, I don’t know what drives me crazier.” Dylan whimpered at her touch, his eyes boring into her dilated ones and there’s no doubt both of them clearly wanted to rip each other’s clothes off. “The fact that you keep dissing my Mets or the fact that you’re extremely sexy talking so passionately about baseball like that.”

With a sly smile on her face and confidence she didn’t actually know she had in her, the young woman extending her hand towards him.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She greeted as he slipped his own hand into her grasp and shook them together. “Huge Yankees fan who apparently also happens to be very sexy.”

“Dylan O'Brien.” He smiled back at her, a small chuckle escaping his throat at her comment. “Long suffering Mets fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Dylan.” She laughed and he laughed along with her when her eyebrows, suddenly, furrowed. “Wait, why do I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere before?”

“I, uh-” Dylan nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’m an actor.”

“Hey, that’s right!” She exclaimed, now putting together the puzzled pieces in her mind. “You’re that kid from that werewolf show.”

“Yeah, Teen Wolf.” He corrected and she let out a long oh of realization as she remembered all the times she flickered through her channels and passed by this show without second glance.

“So, what brings a Hollywood star like you to this unknown bar?” (Y/N) asked, a playful smirk on her lips. “Shouldn’t you be out partying with models or other celebrities?”

“Nah, I hate that stuff.” He shook his head. “I really love my job but despise the attention.”

“I see.” She smiled, not expecting to meet such a humble famous person. Living in LA, you meet a few here and there and they’re usually always very egotistical. It’s quite refreshing to get to know someone that’s the complete opposite.

“But, what about you? What do you you do?” Dylan asked, taking another gulp of his beer.

“I’m the, um, GM of the Dodgers.” (Y/N) stated nervously and it took everything in him not to spit out his drink in utter shock. The woman giggled at his astonished gaze, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

“Y-You’re the General Manager of the fucking Los Angeles Dodgers?!” Dylan exclaimed after he managed to successfully swallow his alcohol.

“Why so surprised?” She challenged and Dylan couldn’t stop staring at her in complete awe. “Is it because I’m a woman?”

“No!” Dylan frantically shook his head. “It’s because I was already so attracted to you and, now, fuck… I think you might just be the death of me.”

“Well, O'Brien.” She grinned and Dylan suddenly moaned when she unexpectedly gripped tightly onto his thigh. “I’m very attracted to you, too.”

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” He asked, beyond ready to do so many sinful things to her that even the devil himself would be ashamed of.

“Ah, the game’s still on.” She shook her head as she pointed towards the television. “Can’t stop supporting my Yankees just for a hook up.”

“The fact that you work for one baseball team yet your favorite is a completely different one amazes me.” Dylan chuckled, his eyes lingering over her body before landing back on her own.

“What can I say?” (Y/N) shrugged, the actor internally moaning when she bit down on her bottom lip. “I like to keep people on the edge of their seats.”

“Well, you certainly have me on mine.”

The sexual tension between the two was so strong that even the bartender could feel it seething off of them and taking over the entire room. He, honestly, thinks he could cut it with a knife from how palpable it was. (Y/N) still hadn’t removed her grip on his thigh and Dylan silently prayed to any god out there that she wouldn’t, his body craving her touch so much it made him hazy.

“How about a little bet to make things interesting?” She proposed and Dylan’s eyes perked up with intrigue.

“Go on.” He gestured, leaning in closer to her.

“If, after the game, the Yankees have won, you have to tweet out that my team is better than yours.” She stated with a grin and Dylan immediately scoffed at her proposal. “However, if the Mets win, you can take me to your place and have your way with me.”

Dylan’s cock already felt hard just at the offer alone as he watched her take a sip of her whiskey with a naughty smirk. It took all of the self control he had in him not to moan out and crash his lips against her red ones from the beautiful lipstick she was wearing.

“Deal.” He nodded and they shook hands for the second time tonight.

The two eagerly watched the game, both way too excited with what would happen right after. (Y/N) knew that, even if she does win, she definitely won’t be spending the night at her own house. They would constantly and shamelessly glance at each other, neither one caring about embarrassment. The lust and desire was so strong at this point that every stare, glance or lick of the lips was more than welcome. Not only were their bodies attracted to one another, but so were their minds. The two had more in common than they imagined and they enjoyed every second of mindless chatter and laughter. Dylan loved it when she laughed carelessly at his stupid jokes and (Y/N) felt like she was on cloud nine everytime he listened to her speak with such intrigue.

“Seventh inning stretch.” (Y/N) sighed, taking a sip from her third drink of the night as she groaned at the score. “And it’s tie.”

“Want to make things even more interesting?” Dylan smirked, narrowing his eyes in mischief and (Y/N) swooned, still not used to this man’s beauty.

“Just how interesting are we talking here?” She grinned, putting down the glass of alcohol she had in her hand.

“Let’s raise the stakes of this bet.”

“I’m listening.”

“If the Yankees win not only will I tweet they’re better than the Mets, but I’ll also record a video singing the Yankees’ theme to go along with it.” Dylan quirked his eyebrows and (Y/N) carefully listened to every word that came out of his mouth. “However, if my team wins, you have to come back to my place tonight and go on a date with me.”

(Y/N) eyes widened at the request and she, suddenly, felt her heart beat a little faster. With a happy smile now spreading across her face, she took her glass back in her small hand.

“Alright, O'Brien.” She nodded, clinking her drink with his. The sound echoing in their little bubble as they stared each other down. “I’m down with that, but you better start warming up your voice because there’s no way the Mets are going to win.”

It was as if the words she said immediately cursed the entire game the moment they fell from her red lips. The Mets were unexpectedly scoring homerun after homerun and (Y/N) would cringe everytime they did. Dylan, on the other hand, had a permanent smirk on his face the whole game. He would watch in awe whenever (Y/N) would angrily scream at the television screen and he couldn’t wait till she screaming under him. It didn’t take long for the game to end and (Y/N) question her entire existence. It’s not that she didn’t want the things that came with Dylan winning, oh she definitely wanted them, it’s the fact that her incredibly skillful and talented Yankees lost to the fucking Mets.

“Well, well, well.” Dylan grinned, standing up from his stool as (Y/N) groaned at his taunting. “Looks like my sad little team caught up with the big boys.”

The beautiful woman glared at his mockery towards the exact words she used just a few hours ago. They were meant to work in her favor not Dylan’s. She stood up from her own stool and took a step towards him, their faces now inches from each other.

“It’s only the beginning of the season.” She defended and Dylan smiled at her proximity, the smell of alcohol on her breath making him drunk on her. “The Mets won’t survive the entire year and you fucking know it.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Dylan retorted and she couldn’t keep her stare away from his lips as he tugged the bottom one in between his teeth, (Y/N) instinctively doing the same. Dylan’s eyes looked down at hers and it was as if their little feud immediately disappeared and now all they could focus on was what was going to happen next.

“Okay, okay.” The bartender broke their stares, blushes painting both of their cheeks. “(Y/N) take your boy toy and get out of here already before you two start having sex on my countertop.”

“Sorry, Sal.” She cleared her throat and Dylan nervously scratched the back of his neck. “We were just leaving.”

The two shared smirks, lust taking over both of their pupils before they ran out of the door. Sal laughing at them as he closed his bar down.

“Kids.” He shook his head with a smile plastered on his face.



The ride to Dylan’s house was surprisingly pleasant. They found more things they shared in common like their love for goofy comedies and their incredibly similar taste in music. Dylan put his phone in the radio of his car and they spent the rest of the ride singing loudly to the songs they both knew by heart. Laughter was the second main theme of the night, right after desire.

“Do you want something to drink?” Dylan asked the second he unlocked the door to his one bedroom apartment and they both walked inside.

“No,” (Y/N) chuckled as she watched him throw his house keys on a small table and turn around to face her. “I’m pretty sure I had enough at the bar.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He laughed, nodding. “What about something to eat?”

“Not hungry.” She shrugged. “But you can eat if you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m hungry.” Dylan licked his lips, walking towards her in a predatory fashion and (Y/N)’s swallowed nervously at how sexy he looked. “Just not for food.”

Her breath hitched in her throat at his comment, jolts of lust rushing through her body and landing in her core. Dylan didn’t even wait for a possible response before crashing his mouth on hers and kissing her with such force he had to hold her lower back tightly so she wouldn’t fall. Both of them have been anticipating that moment the entire night and it was so much better than either could’ve expected. Their lips meshed together in sync with the perfect combination of hard and passionate. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck to drop his baseball cap off his head and finally be able to run her fingers through his dark hair. The second Dylan bit down on her bottom lip, she tugged at the roots provoking a moan to escape from his mouth. The sound sent shivers down her spine and she knew that she desperately wanted to do more than just kiss.

(Y/N) broke the kiss to take a breath, but Dylan didn’t dare stop. He pushed her waist closer into him and she moaned when she felt his growing bulge against her body. Dylan left lingering kisses on her neck which spread goosebumps all over her skin. (Y/N) tried to reach down his back and pull the blue t-shirt off of him but Dylan just grinned against her neck.

“I’m in charge here, remember?” Dylan stated, his hot breath fanning across causing (Y/N) to shiver in response. “And I want to take things slow.”

“Fuck.” She whimpered when he nibbled on her pulse point and began sucking, clearly wanting to leave a hickey there.

Dylan took his time leaving kisses and hickeys wherever he damn pleased and it drove (Y/N) crazy. His provocative touches and the way his lips moved against her skin made her knees weak, wetness already pooling in her panties just from the teasing alone.

“Do something.” She moaned.

“Are you gonna beg for it?” He snickered and (Y/N) moaned again just at his dirty talk.

But, (Y/N) does not beg. She never had to beg to a man before and she won’t start now. Then again, she’s never met anyone like Dylan before. He had her wrapped around his finger just from one night alone.

“I don’t beg.” She shook her head and Dylan slipped his hands down to her ass, squeezing roughly.

“You might as well start learning how to.” Dylan’s face returned to hers, their lips slightly touching. “Because I love it when a woman begs.”

“And I love it when a guy actually fucking touches me.” She retorted and the smile on Dylan’s face didn’t go unnoticed.

He let go of her completely and she whimpered at the loss of contact, wanting desperately to feel his body back on hers. They took this moment to stare at each other and both loved the sight. The two had swollen lips from kissing so hard and smudged red lipstick all over their lips, chins and cheeks. Dylan placed his hand on the hem of her Star Wars shirt and pulled it off her, (Y/N) slightly shivering at the new lack of warmth. He kissed her gently, mostly to tease, as he unbottoned her high-waisted shorts and let them fall on the floor. As she stepped out of the jeans, Dylan licked his plump lips in appreciation at her gorgeous body. She was wearing a matching pair of simple a bra and panties, but the black heels she had on made her look beyond sexy to him. Dylan’s cock twitched against his jeans, desperately wanting to be inside of this breath-taking woman in front of him.

“Take off your bra.” He commanded and usually (Y/N) wouldn’t like being the submissive one during sex but this dominant side of him was turning her on more than she expected.

Slowly reaching behind her back, she unclasped the bra and brought the straps down until she was finally bare. Dylan’s eyes immediately stared at her breasts, the rosy pink nipples perked and ready to be played with. Which was exactly what he decided to. He took two quick steps towards her before returning his hands on her waist, (Y/N)’s back arching the second Dylan’s lips attached to one of her nipples. His hand carefully massaging the other breast he currently wasn’t working his tongue against. She couldn’t contain her moans at finally being able to feel something, but her core still ached in anticipation. When Dylan bit down on her nipple and pulled at it with his teeth, (Y/N) had to press her thighs together to be able to relieve some of the pressure.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Dylan tsked, shaking his head before removing his mouth. He pressed the hand that was on her breast on her thigh and pushed her legs apart. “I call all of the shots.”

“Ple-” She was just about to beg but realized what she was going to do and stopped herself immediately.

“What was that?” He smirked, gripping onto her skin and (Y/N) whimpered at the pressure that was in one place but should’ve been in another. “Were you about to beg?”

“Never.” She panted, his lips back on her nipple.

“Oh, come on Yankees Princess.” He snickered and she not only moaned at the new pet name but the feeling of him sliding his fingers closer to the place she needed him most. “All you have to do is ask.”

She chose to remain silent, not at all trusting her own voice and mind. (Y/N) was already putty in his hands and she didn’t want to give him anymore satisfaction. That is, until he completely broke away from her and took a step back. She stared at him with wide eyes and Dylan grinned sexily before removing his t-shirt. She felt cold and odd without his touch as he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of his pants. Their eyes full of lust and desire never left each other even when he unbottoned his khakis and brought them down to the floor. Dylan kicked them away, but didn’t approach her again like (Y/N) expected. Instead, he folded his arms across his toned chest and cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not touching you until you beg for it.” He challenged and her jaw dropped in awe.

Her eyes broke their gaze to look over his body and she swallowed nervously as she took the sight in, frustrated with herself because she now felt inclined to actually beg. Thanks to his crossed arms, Dylan’s muscles were pressing against his skin and it made her head spin. (Y/N) bit down on her lip when she looked at the trail of dark and scruffy hair above his boxers which held the massive erection bulging against the fabric, precum seeping through the cotton. Her core throbbed like never before thanks to the handsome man in front of her.

“Fine, fuck it.” She groaned and Dylan’s ears perked at her words. “Dylan, please touch me. I need you.”

It wasn’t exactly as desperate​ as he initially wanted, but it was enough for the desire pulsing in his own veins. He, too, wanted to touch her just as much as she did. And in a matter of seconds, Dylan rushed to her and instantly ripped apart her panties. Before she could even complain, his hands moved down to her ass and lifted her up. He kissed her passionately, tongue and all, as he brought her to his bedroom. Placing her down on his empty desk, Dylan spread her legs and fit himself in between them.

He trailed wet kisses down her body and (Y/N) buzzed with excitement. Once he reached her stomach, Dylan kneeled down in front of her and gripped his fingers against her heated thighs. He licked his way towards he left thigh and trailed his tongue close to her core. Just as he was about to touch her there, Dylan immediately switched course and began licking her right thigh.

“I’m gonna kill you.” She hissed through her clenched teeth and Dylan chuckled against her skin.

“Patience, Yankees Princess.” He teased as he nibbled. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She grunted, but accepted none-the-less. Although it’s not like she actually had a choice, the Mets did win after all. (Y/N) ran her fingers through his hair, slightly pulling the strands and Dylan would hum in appreciation. The vibrations shooting through her body and increasing the pain in her core.

When Dylan felt like she’d been teased enough, he let his tongue trace against the place they both desired the most. (Y/N) immediately moaned, not at all caring how loud she was being. His tongue spread apart her soaking wet folds and the young woman’s hips bucked when he momentarily trailed against her swollen clitoris. Dylan’s hand grasped tighter onto her legs as he gently slid his tongue into her, the ache in (Y/N)’s core now being replaced with pleasure and satisfaction.

She whimpered when he pulled his tongue away after working inside of her a few minutes but almost screamed out the second his lips attached to her clit and sucked furiously. One of his hands came into contact and slowly slipped a finger inside of her, her hips bucking instantly at the delicious pumping.

“Fuck.” She moaned and Dylan’s hard cock felt uncomfortable in his boxers as he watched her become a panting mess.

The feeling of his finger inside of her heat and pressing against her soft walls made his head spin, his dick begging to replace his hand’s place. But, Dylan was determined to make her cum with just his hands and mouth first. When he felt she was ready for a second one, he put another finger in and pumped at a faster pace. One of (Y/N)’s hands was buried in his hair and the other gripped tightly on the edge of his desk, her knuckles going white at the pressure.

With the mixture of his fingers curling against her walls and his tongue drawing figure eights on her clitoris as his lips sucked, it was more than enough to quickly build up an orgasm inside of the woman moaning uncontrollably. It didn’t take long to build and, the second Dylan unexpectedly bit down on her clit, her orgasm spilled over her entire body. Dylan didn’t dare stop what he was doing when her legs shook intensely along with her back arching up against the wall. He didn’t even stop when they did. The sounds that fell from her swollen lips and the way she looked as she came made Dylan greedy and he desperately wanted it to happen again. (Y/N) was still sensitive from her first orgasm and in a matter of minutes, she was cumming for the second time tonight. The sensitivity of her core making it easy to reach the edge of her pleasure again.

Even though Dylan removed his head from her inner thighs and attached his lips back onto hers in a forceful kiss, (Y/N) could still feel the burning of his scruff scratching against her tingling skin and she truly hopes the sensation never goes away.

There was more precum spread across his boxers that earlier and Dylan was beyond ready to get rid of the excruciating pain his cock felt from the lack of attention. He made his way back in between her legs after pulling his underwear off and kicking them somewhere far from his body. Dylan brought his hand to his member and pumped a few times in preparation. (Y/N) immediately moaned at the sight of him touching himself and Dylan certainly didn’t expect it.

“What-” He smirked, biting down on his lip at the feeling of his own thumb spreading around the precum on his tip. “Do you have a masterbation kink?”

“Maybe.” She confessed, a bright blush painting her cheeks as her pupils dilated when he increased his pace.

“Damn.” Dylan groaned, throwing his head back with shut eyes. “As much as I love this new discovery, I really want to fuck you right now.”

“Oh, please do.” She grinned, spreading her legs apart even further.

Dylan didn’t even need to think twice before placing both of his hands back on her thighs and lining himself at her entrance. His cock throbbed as he coated his tip in her slick wetness, lubricating himself. The two loudly moaned the moment he easily slid into her, the feeling of them becoming one making their bodies throb with excitement. Dylan let his forehead fall on her shoulder as he waited for to adjust to his size.

“Go ahead.” She stated when she was ready and Dylan immediately pulled back before pushing in again. He started thrusting into her slowly, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of her soft and wet walls tightly around him and (Y/N) loved the delicious feeling of Dylan stretching her as he pumped their bodies together.

(Y/N) wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him a new and deeper angle which he gladly accepted. His hands now moving their positions to thrust harder into her, his left palm flat out on the wall behind her and his right gripping harshly on the edge of his desk. She, however, decided to keep her hands on the arching muscles of his bare back. Considering how turned on they already were, it didn’t take much for the familiar knot to grow inside of the two. Dylan had to use every ounce of self control in him not to cum the second she unintentionally clenched around his shaft and, instead, he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

Dylan pounded deeper into her, now continuously hitting her g-spot no one had ever found until this very moment, and his dream of hearing the beautiful Yankees’ fan from the bar screaming under him finally came true. Her voice echoed in the room along with the sounds of his desk mercilessly banging against the wall and wet skin slapping against wet skin.

“Fuck, I’m almost there.” Dylan panted, loving the feeling of her breasts bouncing against his bare and sweaty chest.

“Me, too.” She shouted, bringing her own hand down to her clit since Dylan was using his for stability.

It took her about 15 seconds of furiously rubbing her already overly sensitive nub before she felt the tight knot inside of her explode and spread mind blowing pleasure throughout her entire body. Dylan tried to hold his orgasm in him the best he could since he didn’t exactly want to cum inside of her without a condom. It was extremely difficult to contain himself, especially when she clenched around him again and dug her nails into his back, but Dylan somehow managed to contain himself as he shouted in frustration. Once he noticed she was back down from her high, he immediately pulled himself out of her and took a step back.

“On your knees.” He panted, his voice weak as he pointed to the ground in front of him.

Even though she was completely hazy from the ground breaking orgasm she just had, (Y/N) slowly slid off the desk and instantly fell to her knees. Dylan didn’t know wether or not she fell due to how weak her legs were or if it was actually intensional​ but the second she gripped his member and licked his tip, the thoughts immediately flew out of his head. Dylan’s mind now focused on her taking him into her warm mouth. His hands instinctively dug into her hair as she slowly bobbed his cock. In a matter of seconds, (Y/N) hollowed out her cheeks to make an even tighter environment for him and Dylan moaned shamelessly at the feeling.

(Y/N) absolutely loved that when her tongue grazed his wet member she could taste her juices on him and she decided to deepthroat him in appreciation. She took him in as far as she could, her nose buried in the patch of his dark hair and her throat gagging at the fullness. But, Dylan definitely loved it because his dick instantly twitched in response and he quickly pulled himself out of her mouth. His hot cum squirted out of his tip and he watched with hooded eyes as it painted her blushed cheeks. Normally, (Y/N) would never allow any man do such a thing to her but the way Dylan was looking at her with pure pleasure and enjoyment swimming in his dark pupils was enough to make her want it to happen again. His liquid dripped from her face and made its way down her breasts, Dylan unable to contain his groans at the sight.

“So, I’m guessing this is your kink.” She chuckled, coating one of her fingers with his release and putting it into her mouth.

“One of many.” Dylan smirked, extending his hand for her to grab with her free one.

They stared at each other with satisfaction in their eyes as he helped her stand, both of them simply knowing without the need to actually say that that was the best sex the two ever had.

“I’ll be right back.” Dylan stated, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before walking away and disappearing into his bathroom.

One of (Y/N)’s eyebrows quirked at the sudden sound of water from a sink running momentarily but, when he returned to her with a small and damp towel in his hands, everything made sense. He kindly wiped away the now sticky cum on her skin and she smiled up at him.

“Now about that date.” Dylan grinned, throwing the towel on the desk when he was done cleaning her body. “How does the premiere to my new movie with a romantic dinner afterwards sound?”

“A first date in the eyes of the public?” She questioned, challenging him. “Borderline crazy.”

“So, is that a yes?” He smirked and (Y/N) instantly laughed.

“Definitely yes.”

Never Too Early

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Description: Hoseok decides it’s never too early for a bit of dessert.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Don’t ask. I just needed to write this. It’s been plaguing me. Shoutout to @ellieljade who’s become my beta, apparently. Obviously, this was the next stage of friendship we were meant to ascend to.

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Hey, Bartender (Rogers/Barnes x reader)

Request:  So I have this idea (because in my opinion there just isn’t enough protective Steve and Bucky) where they go into a bar one night. Both Steve and Bucky immediately get bad vibes. They watch as this bartender is getting treated like crap by all these different guys. Like cat calling and unwanted touching. They notice how she doesn’t do anything about their behavior so they ask her about it. She tells them that she can’t otherwise her boss will fire her. This outrages Steve and Bucky. They hear this one group of guys talking about jumping her once she’s done closing. Steve and Bucky walk her home that night, and every night after until she finds a new job.

“I don’t know, Steve, this place looks a little shady,” Bucky grimaced, taking a quick look around the bar, having to squint in the darkness despite his enhanced abilities.  There was a heavy haze in the air, a combined stench of old smoke, cheap cologne, and spilled alcohol stinging at his throat with a biting dryness that had him ready to leave before even taking his seat.  A deep groan escaped his throat when Steve clearly ignored his input and dropped onto the bar stool, leaving Bucky no choice but to join him.  “This place is nasty,” he continued, grabbing a napkin to wipe the cushion before sitting, “I have no idea why you keep coming in here.”

“They have the only bartender in town who gets my drink right every time,” Steve smirked, watching you approach.  “Hi, (Y/N),” Steve greeted you enthusiastically, “how’s business tonight?”

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Poker Face?

Reggie x Reader 

Warnings: SMUTTY like no joke, if you don’t like sexy time, don’t read!!!

Requested: Can you write a Reggie x reader where they’re dating and they  play strip poker (smut)

A/N: I’ve never played poker before, so I don’t really know how the game works I’ve read about it online to get the jist of it so I’m pretty much just guessing. 

Originally posted by zachdempsey

Friday Nights alone with Reggie Mantle were often the highlights of my week. It was always after the game that he would take me back to my place for a movie night, or something along those lines. My parents work night shifts so they don’t mind Reggie coming over to keep me company. 

Tonight was no different, we were celebrating a big win for the end of season game. I ran onto the pitch along side other students, and into the arms of Reggie. Other players ran past smacking him on the shoulders congratulating him on the game. He picks me up by the waist as I jump towards him and I nuzzle my face into his neck. Still holding his helmet in one hand he tightens his arms around me and lifts me further into the air with excitement. “Congrats,now how do we celebrate?” I enchant towards the caramel skinned boy in front of me. I reach up and place a kiss on his lips softly. I hear the other team mates whistling and cheering some chanting about Reggie being ‘whipped’. I just laugh and pull away. 

“There’s a party at Thorn-Hill tonight, everyone who’s anyone is going to be there, so your presence would be highly appreciated” Cheryl Bombshell added into the mix, turning towards me, giving me that sickly sweet smile of hers. “Actually y/n and I have plans tonight, right?” Reggie says looking towards me with wide eyes. I nod my head towards Cheryl directing my eyeline towards her “Right” and just like that I was whisked away, by the boy still wearing his football uniform. 


We get back to my place, and I realise this was going to be no different from our other Friday nights. “Why didn’t you want to go to the party,Reg?” I ask politely getting my keys out to unlock the door. The streets were dark and silent. It seemed as though the entire town had escaped to Thorn-Hill for the night and we were the only two people left gallivanting the streets. “I had something in my mind that I wanted to try out, and I didn’t think you would wanna play in front of bunch of people at Cheryl Blossom’s Mansion”Reggie replies with a sly grin contouring his face. His fingers fiddle with the end of my shirt as I unlock the door, pushing it open, I turn around to face him with a confused yet amused look on my face. “play?” I mutter and stumble slightly into the doorway of my own home. 

I walk into the living room and Reggie heads towards the bathroom,carrying his bag, presumably to change. He returns a few moments later wearing a pair of sweats, a t-shirt and a baseball cap, holding a deck of cards in his hands. He brings it up and waves it a little a smug smile plastered on his face. I look between him and the cards and tilt my head in confusion. “Strip poker” he states abruptly. I go wide eyed and stand up from my place on the sofa and walk towards him with a sultry  stare. “so this is what you meant  by play?” I ask lightly biting my lip, it didn’t go un-noticed.  

“Okay then” I nod and move the coffee table into the middle of the room, grabbing a couple of cushions for us each to sit on, either side of the table. He throws his jersey at me and I look at him blankly. “Just in-case you need the extra layer” he teases. “and what makes you think I’m gonna be the one needing the extra layer?” I whisper gently in his ear removing my shirt in front of his eyes and replacing it with his football jersey. He takes in a noticeable gulp before sitting down at the table,shuffling the cards. 


Many Items of clothes removed later, I was left in the Jersey and my underwear and Reggie was sat there in his boxers (Oh and his socks, we can’t forget his socks) “Your poker face really is awful Reggie Mantle” I state calling him out only to antagonise him more. To be truthful, Reggie hating losing, and he hating losing to me even more. He knew it would be something I would hold against him for weeks. I look at the cards in my hand and realise my shirt is probably coming next “turn” Reggie mumbles in concentration. He places his cards down to show, three queens and two tens, an otherwise perfect set. I shamefully place down my cards consisting of a jack, ten,four, six, and and an ace, he royally kicked my butt in this round. He looks at me with a smug expression. His tongue sticking out of his mouth. I clap my hands at his deal and stand up ready to take off the jersey but am stopped by a pair of hands reaching for mine.He pulls me round to his side of the table and tugs me down so I’m sitting in his lap. 

“Don’t take the Jersey off just yet, It looks good on you” He whispers brushing the hair out of my face. bringing his lips to meet mine. I lean forwards and instantly tangle my hands into his black hair.Tugging at the roots towards the back of his head. His hot plump lips meshed with mine,in sync moving in and out of rhythm.     

His hands reached down to my legs where he lifted me up and placed me down so I was straddling his waist. His rough calloused fingers ran up my legs and placed themselves on my hips where he held me still. He leaned back so he was leaning against the couch more comfortably and brought his lips back to mine deeply. The kisses were hard and fast and at times sloppy, but that was just the way I liked it. I gasped suddenly as I was picked up,Reggie standing to sit himself down on the couch rather than the floor, bringing me to sit straddling him once more. His lips move to my neck leaving hot open mouthed kisses on the skin. Leaving a trail down where he meets my jawline sucking on the delicate skin, making me gasp for air. 

His hands lift up the Jersey at either side of my hips where he holds the curves and pushes them forwards,encouraging me to rock my hips gently. I do so earning a satisfied groan fall from Reggie’s lips. I place my hands on his naked shoulders and lean in for another kiss, my mouth already thirsty for more attention. As our lips join again, I roll my hips once again a little harder to meet his and continue the action gaining more gasps and breathy reactions from the pair of us. 

The sloppy kisses and building friction between us was more of a celebration than any after party could ever master. Reggie swiftly flipped us so I was laying on my back on the couch, him above me,breathing heavily, a thin layer of sweat had built up from our actions. Not to mention he was already sweaty from the game. 

He raises the shirt up so it’s just above my belly button and kisses his way from under my chest to my pantie line. His eyes look up through his thick dark eyelashes to meet mine as his cold fingers loop themselves into my panties, I nod slowly and he places another kiss on each hip bone before pulling my panties down my legs and onto the floor beside us. He settles in between my legs again and wraps each leg over his shoulder, his strong hands holding onto the tops of my legs. “You okay beautiful?” he asks quietly and i sigh contently nodding my head,he doesn’t even have to do anything and I’m putty in his hands. “So much better than Thorn-Hill” he mutters more to himself as his face disappears in between my legs. 

His tongue swirls over the budding bundle of nerves,and he presses light kisses on it just to be a tease, before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it, I let out a gasp and my hands go straight for his hair, his locks damp from the sweat raised from both the game and our activities. One of his hands moves itself from its place on my hip and and follows his mouth down to where I needed him the most right now, His finger lightly teased my entrance before sliding all the way in and stilling. I let out a short gasp of his name when he began sliding his middle finger in and out, occasionally swirling it around. His mouth still proceeded too press kisses to my clit, adding to the knot tightening in my stomach. My grip in his hair becoming tighter as he moves his hand faster. 

“Reggie” I gasp getting his attention, his face comes up and I gesture for him to bring his face up to meet mine. His fingers still working inside of me, Reggie comes closer to me, pressing his lips hard against mine, I wrap my arms around the back of his shoulders holding him in hug. My back arches and I moan the knot tightening to the point of release. I pull his arm away from me and he looks at me with both confusion and concern. Only to be replaced by a smirk  when my dainty fingers reached for his boxers. I pulled them down as far I could get them being underneath him. His shaft hit his stomach, I took it in my hands gently and slid my hands down it a couple of times before directing towards my entrance. 

He took matters into his own hands, pulling my legs towards himself, I let out a shriek of excitement, he leaned down and kissed me softly, I felt him sliding in, stretching myself out I gasped for air once he had fully pushed all the way in. Many of the boys always made jokes about mine and Reggie’s sex life, saying things like how ‘he’s an animal’ and ‘he must tear you apart in the bedroom’ and when occasionally that can be true, for the most part. Reggie preferred  to make love, he liked taking it slow making it raw and passionate, that was just one of the things I loved about him. 

One of my hands wrapped around his bicep while the other went straight for his hair. Reggie placed both hands on my hips and gently rocked his hips back and forth setting a rhythm that was pleasing for the both of us. He groans out my name into the crook of my neck and scatters a few kisses in the area. I feel the knot tightening again and becoming loose as my release is coming on. I can tell Reggie is getting close due to the breathy-ness and his tired limbs. with a few more hard fast thrusts Reggie moans into my ear, his movements becoming slopping, my stomach tightens and I feel the knot untie a sense of relief washes over my body. 

Reggie collapses on top of me, pushing my fowards so he can slide in lay behind me on the couch. He presses a kiss under my ear and pulls the jersey down so its covering me up. 

“Well that’s one way to celebrate a football” Reggie smiles and I shake my head laughing and lean up to kiss him  again. 


I’M GOING TO HELL.  

The Secret (6)

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

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

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

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

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

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anonymous asked:

can you do the neighbor au for seokmin, jihoon, and minghao?? only if you have time of course ^_^

joshua, mingyu & seungkwan can be found (here) ~
wonwoo, hoshi & seungcheol can be found (here)
[this post mentions snakes so if you’re scared of them be careful~!]

Seokmin

  • is barely ever actually at his apartment 
  • like he’s the kind of person that has a super active social life so he’s probably spending the night over at a different friend’s house every day of the week or getting home at like weird hours of the night
  • but the landlord doesn’t care because hey in the end he makes rent and that’s what matters
  • like his door is full of take out flyers and sometimes even packages stand out on his mat for like 3-4 days at a time because like ????? does he even come home like ????? ever
  • inside his apartment though he’s got a lot of stuff because he never really throws anything out ?? like he’s got CD’s from when he was kid, boxes full of comic books and old action figures, and thrown over his couch is a blanket he got second-hand from hoshi
  • and it’s really kinda cool though because he has bookshelves full of trinkets and books and photo albums
  • and on his wall he has photos of singers and rock bands he looks up to
  • and since this is an au, seokmin’s closet looks like you took it from the nineties lots of dad caps, flannels, and ripped jeans because tbh if seokmin was going to have an aesthetic as just a regular dude living on his own he’d probably keep up with his band days and be the type to own a ‘nirvana’ t-shirt 
  • does weird stuff when he’s home alone like sit on top of the kitchen table and eat take-out and drink his soda from something that looks more like a vase than it does a cup
  • and you don’t even know who seokmin is. you don’t even think the apartment next door to yours has anyone living in it
  • until you’re over at a party a couple of blocks down hosted by your friend seungcheol and somehow you get involved in this crazy game of twister
  • and it gets down to you and this boy,,,,,, who is kinda cute with his pretty half moon smile and really big grin
  • and you’re supposed to get your hand over his and like flip yourself around but you end up wobbling and falling forward,,,,,,,,RIGhT ontop of this cute boy
  • whom you’ve never meet
  • and you’re like !!!!!!!!! sfhksda im so sorry!!!!! but you’re also laughing because god how awkward to fall on someone during twister
  • but the boy is just laughing too and he’s like “don’t be sorry, it’s my pleasure ^^” and you’re like your pleasure??? and he’s like “ive never had someone so good looking fall ontop of me before ;)” 
  • and you playfully like nudge his arm before giggling into your palm
  • and then you hear seungcheol’s voice like “hey lovebirds get off the twister mat so we can restart the game!!!!”
  • and you flush red when you realize you two,,,,,,are just laying there in front of everyone at this party
  • so you get up and offer your hand to the boy who gladly accepts
  • and the rest of the party you two stick together and talk and you find out his name is seokmin!!! and that he’s really really hilarious and good at body gags and puns
  • and he’s so totally your type and to your surprise seokmin is like “THIS is gonna sound corny but,,,,,,,, you’re totally my type,,,,,,”
  • and you’re like omg no way that’s what i was thinking and you two burst into giggles again
  • and when it’s time to go,,,,,,,,,seokmin is like “let me make sure you get home safe!!” and you’re like oh sure i live a couple blocks down and he’s like whaT a coincidence me TOO
  • and as you’re walking you and him are talking more and more and tbh you stop and you’re like “i don’t wanna leave,,,,,,,,i wanna spend some more time but since i have to go let me do this-”
  • and you lean up to kiss his cheek and seokmin is like grinning and he’s like i don’t want you to go either
  • and as you continue walking he holds your hand and you smile, but you’re so happy because finally you went to a party and you acTUALLY met someone sweet
  • and you’re like ‘oh this is my building here!!” and seokmin looks up and he’s like ,,,,,,,,,,,, wait
  • i live here too
  • and you’re like what oh my god what floor
  • and then he says the same floor as you and you’re like NO WAY WHAT ARE WE NEIGHBORS
  • and yes,,,,,,,, turns out that apartment you thought was always empty is actually seokmin’s apartment 
  • and you’re both staring in awe until seokmin is like 
  • “hey maybe that means fate brought us together for a reason,,,,,,literally together because we’re neighbors and also because i like you let me take you out on a real date tomorrow?”

Jihoon

  • always worn-out and the kind of neighbor who would fall asleep in the elevator ride if it weren’t so short 
  • you can tell by his constant yawning that he probably spends a lot of the night up doing work,,,,and like his clothes never look ironed and if you see him going to take the garbage out or get the mail he’s like got a face-mask on and the most sleepy expression
  • but also he always lugs around a guitar case twice his size and a shoulder bag that seems stuffed to the brim with notebooks of all different sizes
  • and he’s respectful, nodding to elders and things like that but mostly he doesn’t speak much to others
  • and it’s probably because he’s got one million things on his mind but also,,,,,,,,,i repeat: tired
  • his apartment reflects his hard work like the one thing that’s most noticeable in the entire apartment is that his living room has a huge desk with dual monitors and a shelf stuffed with books on musical composition and journals full of songs and lyrics
  • and jihoon has pens in coffee mugs in the kitchen, paper crumpled near the foot of his bed (a bed he never uses since he falls asleep in the computer chair or on the carpet beside his desk)
  • and im not saying this au brings back ponytail!jihoon,,,,,,,but that’s exactly what im saying
  • and there’s a point in the week when you have some trouble sleeping so to calm down you make some tea and go out on your balcony to sit in the night air 
  • and that’s when you hear it,,,,, the soft strums of a guitar,,,,,, then a sudden stop,,,,,, and then the guitar again
  • and you look over and for the first time, even though it’s a bit dark you can make a figure out on the balcony beside yours and you tell yourself “isn’t that jihoon’s apartment?” 
  • because although you don’t talk much to him, you know him by first name because your neighbors and when he’d moved in you had stopped by to welcome him and he’d told you his name
  • but it’s weird,,,,,you’ve never seen him outside his apartment 
  • and you never knew that he,,,,,played the guitar so well like you’d seen the case and assumed he liked music but the melody you’re hearing now is absolutely gorgeous
  • but then it stops suddenly and you hear him grumble a loud that it’s no good
  • and before you can really think you get up and go “i really like it!”
  • and jihoon’s head snaps up an he’s looking at you from above the fence of his balcony and he’s like ,,,, “o-oh uh im sorry for disturbing you ill be quieter!”
  • but you’re shaking your head and you’re like “no, i really liked what you played, is it your own?” 
  • jihoon nods, looking shyly down at his hands because gjfsgfs he didn’t know anyone was listening ,,,,,
  • but you just smile and go “it’s pretty, i would want to hear more.”
  • and jihoon seems hesitant, but it’s like 2am and you’re the first person he’s talked to in days since working on this song so he asks if you’d really want to hear what else he has and you say you do
  • so he plays it,,,,,,, and you close your eyes so entranced by the sound
  • and it’s enough to even make you feel a bit sleepy and when it’s over you give him a thumbs up from your balcony and he just shyly hides his head, but he’s smiling
  • and you say goodnight as you go back inside
  • and as your head hits your pillow, the sound of jihoon’s guitar fills your memory and you fall asleep easily
  • while jihoon sits outside on the balcony, holding his guitar and thinking about how breathtaking you looked standing there, eyes closed, with the moon as your backdrop and you and him as the only ones awake in that moment ,,,,,

Minghao

  • honestly,,,,,,,is he a model????? why does a model live in this building???? it must be because the rent isn’t that bad,,,,,,,
  • jkjkjk but seriously everyone is always in awe of minghao,,,,, because like is it humanly possible to look that good??? no matter what??? because he can come out in his pajamas and still look like he’s walking the runway at seoul fashion week good lord
  • but also,,,,,he’s just a sweet oblivious kid
  • and everyone whose older has the strong urge to offer him food and take care of him like maybe it’s because he’s so tall and thin but also just looking at him makes someone want to take care of him,,,,,he’s just so endearing
  • all the neighbors invite him over for dinner tbh he never even has to buy food
  • except jun will come over and literally eat every snack minghao has bought in the past week and minghao is looking at the wrappers all over his living room floor like: jun ge,,,,,,,,,,,,you’re a punk you know that right,,,,, (same goes for hoshi hyung who does the SAME damn thing some1 save minghao)
  • his apartment is pretty nice though,,,,like he’s got this nice aesthetic going with fresh flowers in the kitchen and lucky chinese charms hanging from the walls ,,,,,,, lots of tea and other herbs his mom sent him from china
  • it always smells really good in his house
  • but the coolest thing and like,,,,,,,ok seriously just think about this: minghao,,,,,,,,,,with a pet snake
  • and he has like a whole tank just for his pet,,,,who he named sunflower in chinese,,,,because of it’s yellow skin,,,,and when you first come in you’re like huh do you own a liz- THAT IS A SNAKE
  • but minghao love sunflower, he can take her out and wrap her around his shoulders and he’s like ‘she’s a shy thing, come and hold her’ 
  • also idk i just think he’d look so cool with a snake ,,,,,
  • but yes you find out one day about the snake because minghao gets in the elevator with you and he’s holding a box,,,,,,and the box just says,,,,,,mice
  • and you’re like “are those really,,,,,mice inside there?” and minghao smiles and he’s like “yes! for my sunflower!” and you’re like ,,,,,,,,,your sunflower???? and in your head you’re like is that his s/o??? why would they need mi-
  • and minghao is like “you wanna see her?” and you’re like ,,,,, “her?” and minghao is like “yeah!! sunflower!!” and tbh you’re like confused because you know minghao as he’s your neighbor, but you’ve always been scared to talk to him because lmao he’s beautiful and now he’s just inviting you to his house???? to see ‘her’?????
  • but the elevator is open and minghao is pulling you out by your wrist and he’s so excited that before you can even say much
  • you’re following him into his living room and he’s like “there she is~!” and you see it,,,,,,,the tank,,,,,,,,,,and then the little head of a S na ke ,,,,, and you’re like “t-t-t-that’s sunflower?” and minghao is like yep! and this is her meal!!”
  • and you figure out that whats in the box,,,,and why is was for sunflower,,,,,, and you might not watch sunflower ‘enjoy her meal’ but minghao just claps and is like “she’s pretty right??”
  • and you’re,,,,,,you know,,,,,,shell shocked to say the least but you’re like “yes,,,,,,she’s a pretty color,,,,,,” and minghao grins and he’s like “she also does a good job of keeping jun out of my house,,,,,he’s not fond of her.”
  • and you assume jun must be a friend of his but you laugh because that’s actually smart, say you have a pet snake and see how many of your friends refuse to ever come over again
  • but minghao turns to you and he’s like “usually people are running down the hall by now. good job.” and he ruffles your hair and you’re like,,,,,a bit embarrassed
  • and minghao is like “do you have any pets” and you guys talk about it until you say you have to go and minghao is like ok,,,,,you should come over and play with sunflower sometime!!!!
  • and you’re like gulping because how does one play with a snake,,,,and minghao can read your expression which just makes him laugh even more and he ruffles your hair again (he must really like doing that hmmm) and is like “don’t worry, ill be beside you to supervise!”
  • and you know,,,,,,,,why not like when will you get the chance to hang with a snake again so you’re like “sure!! just call me when you’re free~”
  • and minghao is like “oooo really?” and you’re like “sunflower,,,,,,,,seems nice,,,,,” and minghao grins and he’s like “i knew i liked you, sunflower will like you too~”
  • and you’re like well one you’re like oh you liked me 
  • but two now you have a play date with a snake,,,,,,,,,,,,,it’ll be worth it though
  • because one date with the snake but also,,,,,a date with xu minghao tbh i would sell my soul for that so snakes aren’t all that bad LOL 

anonymous asked:

I've just read about Tony feeling unwanted and man, it breaks my heart! Could you write something about Tony having enough? Like, he feels that Team Cap thinks they don't need him, they don't appreciate him and they never did. So he leaves, he doesn't stop being an Iron Man, but leaves Avengers. Maybe he has his own team with Rhodey and Spidey and whoever else. Maybe he helps Defenders from time to time. Maybe he works alone. (1)

But the point is, even if Avengers think that they don’t need him, they really do. Because he did so much for them all this time. Like, when SHIELD fell, he and his company invested them, repaired their equipment and made new one, took care of PR and media. And they never even knew, or just never cared, until he left. Now they have no one to replace him and to be as efficient as he was. They’re just too close to failing apart.(2)


I can and I most certainly will! All those angst-filled headcanons from yesterday didn’t just make me want to curl up under a ton of blankets to hide from the world, they also, they also reminded me how freaking bitter I still am. So yeah, hope you don’t mind, anon, but I thought your ask would be the perfect way to kick off bitter Sunday!

Because we’re talking about Tony Stark, guys. We’re talking about the man who build a suit of armour in a freaking cave. Who got kidnapped by the bad guys and blew his own way right back out. Yes, he’s hurt. Yes, he’s fucking heartbroken. Yes, most days the weight of his own mistakes and failings almost crushes him. Yes, being confronted with the team he was never allowed to belong to he lost is rubbing salt into the slashing wounds that still haven’t healed, bleed sluggishly from time to time.

But.

There’s a line he’s drawn into the sand a long time ago, back when he first became Iron Man, and it matters. He does what is expected of him. Shakes the returning Avengers’ hands. Smiles for the cameras. Is quoted stressing that he supports the UN’s decisions, that with the new and revised Accords in place, there’s no room for old grudges and vendettas. And he means it. What he doesn’t say though, is that there’s no room for old friendships and favours either.

Truth is, Earth needs as many heroes as possible. It needs them in once place, with stable communication channels, capable of working and strategising and organising together. The exiled Avengers are a rare resource they can’t afford to waste. There is also the fact that being trust back into the limelight limits them in a way working from the shadows doesn’t, forces a vague but still present sense of accountability on them that Tony may or may not take a great amount of pleasure in.

But here’s another, much more fortunate truth: they don’t need to be a team to save the world. It’s a truth that’s been hanging over them from the beginning, back when Iron Man wasn’t a part of the Avengers because he didn’t have to be for the plot to work. In retrospect, Tony can appreciate Fury’s actions for the well-played moves they were.

So he does what he would have done years ago, if not for sentimentalities and a misplaced sense of loyalty holding him back: he cuts the wire.

With the new accords has come a committee and a new governmental agency in charge of handling the nationally and internationally operating enhanced strike teams. Tony uses this development to his advantage, separates his business from the agency entirely, because really, a billionaire shouldn’t own parts of an organisation designed to keep him in check.

Tony signs the new agreements and as Iron Man he is to be deployed whenever necessary, but he is no longer part of any team. And he makes a point of proving that time and again.

When members of his ex-team are involved in a fight he wasn’t, he refuses any comment on the actions, they are none of his business after all, and really, shouldn’t you ask the people who were actually there? He doesn’t get involved in group press conferences unless there are more than just the ex-Avengers present because presenting a united front as enhanced humans is one thing, presenting a united front with them is another thing altogether. 

He doesn’t build weapons, suits and other improvements for anyone but himself and the people he deems worthy of his gifts either–those designs have always been too dangerous to be allowed into the hands of a government agency, and none of his former team mates make the cut onto the trusted list anymore. 

He doesn’t interact with them anyways, unless it’s on the comms during a fight or via a representative or his official email account (his private contact information is no longer available to them). All his employees knows better than to give them access to anything non-public without a properly scheduled meeting, and even Pepper doesn’t disagree with him on this one. She’s the one that usually shows up on these meetings anyways, and she doesn’t give them an inch, because there’s a reason Tony hired her in the first place.

And it might have started out as simple avoidance and being petty but you know what? Tony’s doing pretty damn well on his own. He doesn’t need the team, he’s always known that, but proving it to himself ends up feeling surprisingly good. Empowering. Freeing even. 

Because even though it feels like that in the very beginning, Tony isn’t actually alone. He’s got Pepper, with whom he’s slowly working out the post-failed-relationship-awkwardness, and Rhodey, who’s recovery is a slow, painful process but still a process, and loyal, steady Happy. He also has Peter, who’s too eager and reminds Tony too much of himself, but who doesn’t leave or get bored by Tony’s enthusiastic rants. He’s got Harely with whom he face-times at least once a week to science and chatter.

He’s got people who care about him and enjoy spending time with him, and the more time passes, the more Tony realises how not-okay his relationships with his former team have really been, how not-okay he’s been. And he still misses them, from time to time, but it’s the fleeting yearning for a missed opportunity, not the heartbreaking free fall into a bottomless darkness it used to be.

The point is, Tony is in a good place. Without the team that never wanted him. 

(And on days he still feels a little down, watching that Youtube clip of a tiny, three-year old girl in an Iron Man t-shirt throwing her ice cream at Steve Roger’s face with devastating accuracy, the one that cuts off right as the older brother is shown laughing so hard tears are streaming down his face and assuring his indignant little sister that yes, he’ll get her a new ice cream, he’s very proud of her standing up against bullies, is surprisingly cathartic.)

Don’t Turn Around (Steve Rogers x reader)

Requests: 

1. Can I have a one shot/fic where the reader is 18 and an avenger. She instantly became close to Steve and he’s like a protective older brother, and they’re really close. One day they all go on a mission and she tells Steve that she has a bad feeling. Sometime during the mission she goes missing. Steve is a wreck & about 6 months later they find her. When they do she’s completely broken. Shattered. She doesn’t say anything to any of them on the ride back and there’s an occasional whimper.  When they fix the physical damage she goes back to her room, and she doesn’t really leave it. They all try talking to her but she just doesn’t say much back. One night Steve wakes up in the middle of the night and just hears of crying. So he goes in to comfort her like any big bro would. Once she’s settled she tells Steve every single detail of what she went through and he finds it’s worse than what he imagined.  (It’s already angsty, so I didn’t go into these details)

2. Omg, requests are open. I was wondering if you could write a Steve x reader where they are dating and she gets captured by hydra, so Steve looks for her, finds her and helps her recover

As he sat in the back of the quinjet, relinquishing his control and allowing Sam to fly, Steve sat with an eerie stillness, with the exception of the bounce in his leg to demonstrate the withering of his last moment of patience.  His muscles were rigid and his fists clenched, with closed eyes that allowed the torturous images to continue in an endless loop like a bad movie stuck on repeat. You had told him that something felt wrong before that last mission together.  You told him that you thought they should retreat back, but as usual, he didn’t listen.  He didn’t listen, and now it had been six months since he had last seen you. Because of his own damn insistence on thinking he knew best, you were missing and this was the first lead that they had caught the trail of in that whole time. 

“Steve, I swear, you’re shaking the whole jet. Stop it.”

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Sons of Lawrence #15

Summary:  Sons of Anarchy meets Supernatural. In this AU, the Winchesters run the most notorious biker gang in Lawrence. They traffic illegal drugs, weapons, and anything else that makes them money and keeps them on top.
Miss the beginning?
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Crowley, Jo Harvelle, Meg Masters, Patrick, Jodi Mills, Mary Winchester, James Novak, Sam Winchester
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,764
Warnings: Attempted murder, blood and injury, conspiracy, language, casual use of illegal drugs, angst, fluff, medical jargon. 
Author’s Note: This series isn’t going to be light and fluffy. It will include explicit language, explicit sexual content, casual use of illegal drugs, explicit canon typical violence.
GIF credit [x][x] Other GIF from Google.

Originally posted by crowleysloverr

Crowley knew from the moment Jo left his office that he was going to frame her for the murder of John Winchester. He just had to make sure to execute his plan perfectly. Since Jo had gotten her perky ass kicked out of COLT, Crowley didn’t want to act too soon. He wanted the Winchesters -and guest- to start to feel safe, as if all of their problems had disappeared with the death of Gadreel.

Only one other person knew the entirety of Crowley’s plan; Patrick. He was tall, dark, deathly handsome, and had a thick accent that made all the ladies -and a few of the men- swoon. Patrick flirted shamelessly with the petite blonde, told her about his rough childhood in Cyprus and the UK, even played the sympathy card by telling her how his parents died when he was a teenager. Jo was eating out of his hand and Crowley knew Patrick wouldn’t let him down.

Several days later, Crowley decided it was time. Patrick and Jo were going at it like rabbits and everyone except John had just pulled away on their bikes. He sat back for several long moments, making sure the sounds of the loud bikes had drifted away before Crowley pushed off the stolen bike that was sitting just out of view. Dark leather gloves were pulled on as he strode up the driveway, disappearing silently into the house just as a car drove past.

With a cup in his hand and his nose buried in the newspaper, John walked into the kitchen; only stopping because Crowley cleared his throat.

“Hello, John,” Crowley rasped, pulling a loosely-wrapped bundle from his pocket.

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Fanfiction - Scalpel & Needle

@mary-waitforit-lou: Maybe a From Hate to Love au, at first they can’t stand each other and then…

I asked for prompts a few days back and immediately felt the need to write this one. It’s a classical trope that I feel can be quite interesting. I received a couple of other ideas, that are already in store - some are meant to go later into my existing works. Thank you for inspiring me!

Scalpel & Needle (Part I)

“I’d be bloody thankful if you didn’t come into my OR like some kind of unwanted saviour and start to order me around!” Claire snarled, ripping off her surgical cap, her curls exploding in the air after sudden liberation, her hair bobble tearing with an audible “pop!”. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

“The patient was crashing.” Jamie tried to explain, remaining eerily calm in spite of the angry woman facing him, looking like a rattlesnake ready to pounce. “Ye couldna possibly deal with all those bleeders. I thought a second pair of hands…”

“I already had a second surgeon!” She hissed, pointing at the frightened young resident who had sought refuge against the wall, clearly wishing to be swallowed by it – and away from the two galvanized surgeons. “I was in control, using the technique I prefer! But you decided to come and show off, like some goddam star!”

“I was only trying to help, lass.” He grunted, gripping his fists. His blue eyes were dark and dangerous, tumultuous seas waiting for ships to wreck on their waves. “It seems to me ye have a bit of a problem admitting when ye need help and it’s perfectly…”

“Oh, you bastard!” Claire roared, advancing to face him – even though he had the clear advantage of his imposing height. “Don’t you dare call me “lass”, as you do to the young nurses, melting them away to do your biding. Stop pretending you know the first thing about me! You just want to please the board, so they’ll give you the most challenging cases!”

“I couldna care less about the board, Doctor Beauchamp.” Jamie said through clenched teeth. “Ye should be thanking me that the patient isna heading to the morgue - instead ye’re yelling at me like a mad banshee, because I wounded yer pride.”

Claire’s cheeks were throbbing with heat, her chest constricted with a fury she couldn’t even begin to understand. She raised her index finger and poked him on the chest, wielding it like a dangerous dagger. “Stay the hell away from me and my OR, Fraser. I mean it!”

Mallaichte bas! Fine!” He roared, raising his hands in exasperation. “I won’t meddle again, as much as I think ye might need it. Ye blind woman, stubborn as a mule…” And he reverted to clipped Gaidhlig, grumbling in a low voice as he strode down the hallway.

“Claire!” She heard the voice of her friend, Geillis Duncan, gaping at her with her mouth noticeably ajar. Claire was panting, her vision almost blurred from anger, as she contemplated James Fraser retreating with a cold satisfaction. “What’s this ruckus all about? Is something amiss?”

“Just my esteemed colleague, James Fraser, being an insufferable prick.” She glared at the other people surrounding her, frozen in contemplation of the spectacle, silently warning them to return to their own business. “I really don’t know how someone can be as egocentric, misogynistic, smug…”

“Well, don’t hold anything back, darling.” Geillis laughed, gently pushing her by the arm to a nearby resting room. “Yer feud with the man is becoming legendary. There’s probably people placing money to bet on yer next fight.”

“Someone has to show him he’s not even half as impressive as he fancies himself to be.” Claire puffed, filling a glass with cold water from the machine in the corner and drinking it down.

“Most people think him charming, Claire.” The nurse pointed, sitting on the small couch – a myriad of unidentifiable stains garnishing the old fabric. “A verra capable surgeon, kind and concerned with his patients, humble but with a sharp mind, and a brilliant sense of humour.”

“Damn Geillis, don’t you hold anything back either.” She rolled her eyes in disbelief. “One would think you very enthralled by the man.”

“Everyone – well, every lass and probably John Grey too – kind of is.” The redheaded girl gave her a mischievous smile. “That is one hell of a ginger fox, Claire. How can ye not want to ride that…”

“That’s quite enough, thank you!” Claire hawked and tried to tame down her revolting hair with her fingertips. “I happen to be immune to whatever spell he has been casting around here.”

“I just don’t understand why ye hate him so much.” The nurse looked at her with studying eyes, slightly biting her index finger, her nails a gaudy shade of pink. “Are you trying to conceal the fact that ye actually find him attractive?” She said in a soft voice. “I know that after Frank it’s hard for ye to…”

“Don’t.” Claire said in a serious voice, the shadow of a smile gone from her face. “Don’t say that. This has nothing to do with Frank. I just don’t see what you see, that’s all.”

“Alright, I’ll let the subject go – for now.” Geillis stretched herself like a cat and grinned, preparing to resume her work. “Drinks tonight at Leoch’s?”

“Sure.” Claire nodded absentmindedly, already studying her next patient’s chart. “I’ll meet you there after I finish my colectomy.”

“Behave until then, ye hear me!” She warned Claire, leaving her alone to face another surgery.

****

Claire opened her locker, blood pulsing rapid inside her vessels, so much so she felt the tidal waves of blood on her temples. Like she had foresaw, a lonely envelope was there, a bit crumpled after being pushed through the small gap. With shaking hands and a smile of anticipation, she opened it.

“It has come to my attention that you had a rough day. I’m sorry to hear it. I thought I would make it a little better – but this time I’m borrowing the words of a wiser man.

«My struggle is harsh and I come back with eyes tired at times from having seen the unchanging earth,

But when your laughter enters it rises to the sky seeking me

And it opens for me all the doors of life.»

I hope to see it again soon. I shall miss your laughter every second you hide it away.

With l Yours,

Scalpel”

It had started six months before. On a day when night had forgotten to go away, leaving everything immersed in shadows, rain pounding over the roof like a furious fist banging.

She had lost a patient that day. She recalled it vividly, because it had been the first since she had moved to Edinburgh. Not only that – it had been a young woman, with the same hopes and dreams that she had, heart broken into a million pieces but still hopeful. Losing her had been like losing a piece of herself, an entire world shattered away under the lights of the OR.

Claire accepted the sympathetic words of her colleagues, the gentle hands that touched her back, assuring her that not every battle was meant to be won. But she had lost – so brutally, so completely, so painfully. She walked to the locker room and bolted the door, allowed herself to cry on the floor, to sob until her heart had melted and gone away.

When she opened her locker to retrieve her things at the end of her shift, she had found a sketch there, pencil on paper like the tears on her cheeks. Someone drew a hand – elegant fingers with a thin wrist, which eerily reminded her of her own – holding a scalpel. And touching her palm underneath it, as if the fragile scalpel had been too heavy to hold on her own, a second hand helped her to hold it. The touching image – it had brought tears to Claire’s eyes – had been signed in a crooked handwriting. “Scalpel”.

The drawing had been on her nightstand since that day, a reminder that someone out there truly understood – knew – the loneliness of her work, the hardships she endured and how much she needed a presence to hold her when her strength failed her.

The second gift came a week after that – a pressed blue flower, perfectly preserved, clearly saved for quite some time between the pages of a book. Claire inhaled it, hungry for the perfume and words still trapped in it. A short note came with it – “Will you make a home for it with you? Scalpel”.

After a few weeks – time in which she had received poems, caricatures and photos of landscapes – she decided that her secret friend – for the mysterious person clearly meant to forge a relationship with her through those small tokens – deserved an answer.

She had scribbled it at home, sitting at her desk – the pressed flower next to her, on top of an organized pile of paper – and left it lodged on the door of her locker, where he’d certainly find it.

“Dear Scalpel,

I’m not sure why you think me deserving of such kind attentions, but I have to say you seem to read my mind! Not only I find everything you give me fascinating, but you seem to guess when I’ll need it the most. If someone ever told me I’d have a secret correspondent, I’d laugh and swear them insane. But in truth I find great solace in you and cherish every thought you spare me. Thank you for being a true friend – the more selfless kind.

Cla Needle

P.S. – Of course you know my real name, but it seems only fair that the both of us would have secret code names. I’ve been told to be sharp as one - and equally resourceful.”

And so their correspondence became two-sided. A week hadn’t gone by without a sign from him and Claire realized they were incredibly close – intimate, even. She had tried to suggest for them to meet and talk in the cafeteria – at least for him to reveal his name, so she could put a face on the person that meant so much to her. His answer had been concise and clear: “One day I’ll tell you everything. But not yet.”

Claire placed the note on her pocket, where her fingers could brush it – touching it, savouring it through the next hours. She headed for the pub to meet Geillis – blissfully unaware of Scalpel’s existence - wondering how one could be enamoured with a man made only of words on paper.

AA!SteveTony; You know you say everything out loud.

Word Count: ~2800
Warnings: none?

1.

Seventy two hours after Tony disappeared into his lab and failed to come out, Steve found himself outside the doors, punching in his entry code. He wasn’t the first Avenger to come knocking, but he was the first to come bearing food– ham sandwich, baked chips, and, at Natasha’s insistence, a bottle of coconut water. Because fluids were important, and nothing improved a mood quite as fast as sugar.

She was right in guessing that Tony’s mood would need improving. As soon as FRIDAY waved him in, Steve was greeted with a sharp, “What?”

Setting lunch down on the nearest flat surface, Steve grabbed the coconut water and headed toward the bank of screens where he heard Tony’s voice. He boldly shook the bottle in the man’s face and commanded, “Drink up.”

Tony scowled, potently, for all that he looked wrung out and exhausted. “I’m a little busy, Cap,” he said, distantly. “So, unless you need something…”

“I do,” Steve held up the bottle again. “Drink.”

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[fic] darling so it goes

he tian x mo guan shan (1st half); jian yi x zhengxi (2nd half)

tags/notes: fluff, swearing, light altercation in the form of a head cuff, title from here, ‘SAR’ is a military term for ‘search-and-rescue’ 

synopsis: after-shot of chapter 196.

‘What crawled up his ass?’

He Tian cuffed the top of Guan Shan’s head. It earned him a sharp exhalation from where Guan Shan sat on the bench, scowling up at him, features pinched, eyes washed copper in the sun.

‘Jian Yi,’ He Tian said. ‘He’s missing.’

They watched Zhengxi stalk across the court in silence, smudges of purple storms under his eyes, shoulders rounded and taut. He swiped a basketball from the bag on the side of the court, threw it aimlessly against the chain-link fence. The sound rattled, ball smacking back down to asphalt, the whole fence trembling around the perimeter with the aftershock like soundwaves.

‘Like … missing?’

He Tian made a quiet ‘hm’ sound. He’d heard nothing from his brother. The SAR must have been immediate, no handler, a quick in-and-out job. Carefully planned, cleanly executed. No casualties except a pulled shoulder from the rebound of a gun. It was only a matter of time before someone went for Jian Yi. You couldn’t have a father like that and have your hands kept clean for long. You couldn’t have a father like that and not escape without some bullet holes.

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All His - Part 4 (A Kyungsoo Series)

The words in his text message jumped out at you and you couldn’t stop reading them over and over again.

’Come play with me.’

No matter how much you thought about it, absolutely no part of that phrase sounded innocent.

You knew the man found you amusing and you had practically been his source of nonstop entertainment for the past month or more, but to outright request your presence merely because he was bored?

What did he mean by play? You half expected him to be holding a deck of cards in his hands, shuffling them over and over looking for someone to play Go Fish with.

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Not So ‘Quick and Bracing’

Description: Killian sees his fiance making breakfast, and soon they hunger for more, which eventually leads to the shower… (Canon/scene divergence from the pancake scene of 6.18). 

Rating: E (because, reasons…)

Word Count: ~2600 

Author’s Note: I know, know…Everyone and their mom is doing this, but @killythecowardlypirate ask me to “do the thing,” and so…here’s my version. It’s a “what if Snow didn’t interrupt” version. And yes, Chantal, syrup is included… I mean, what’s pancakes without syrup, amirte? lol This is unbetad, because I just needed to get it out, and it’s twice as long as I intended it to be. Smut, humor and feels: just what you come to expect from yours truly! Enjoy!!


Killian quietly wrapped his arms around his fiancé as she flipped another pancake onto an already towering stack. He nuzzled her ear, his trimmed facial hair tickling her exposed appendage. “Something smells delicious,”  he whispered.

Emma smiled from ear to ear, the heat from Killian’s body radiating from behind her. “It’s just from a box…”

He practically growled as he responded, “I wasn’t talking about the pancakes..”

Emma turned swiftly in his arms, taking no time to lock his lips with her own. He must have recently brush his teeth, because she could still taste spearmint along his tongue. Her hand travelled from his scruffy chin, to his slightly exposed chest (he was in the middle of dressing himself and didn’t finish before walking down to the kitchen). After exploring each other’s mouth for what seemed like an eternity, she broke the contact, looking into his cobalt blue eyes.

She must have been staring far too long, because Killian broke her concentration, asking, “What?”

“I’m just…happy. Still surprises me sometimes.”

He just smiled. “Aye, love. Me, too.” Killian then leaned down for another kiss, this one more gentle than the previous one. As he lifted his lips from hers, he ask, “So, should I look forward to this every morning? My loving wife, dressed in naught but her black silk robe, making me breakfast?”

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The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royal AU [Chapter 1]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general’s daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the ‘other’ prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Also on FF.net and AO3.

Word Count: 4,386


Alright, here we are! I’m so excited to be FINALLY writing this story and I wanted to have a few chapters written in advance so I wouldn’t have to wait ages to update (I’ll be shooting for weekly updates, god willing). Keep in mind that this is a modern royal AU that’s got a Prince Harry type version of Killian (who I’m kind of in love with already) and there’s going to be a lot of feels/angst ahead. There will be some M-rated stuff eventually, but it’s a long ways off so I’ll post a warning before those chapters. Thank you all for being patient and lovely :) enjoy! XOXO


“You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, little brother,” Liam grumbled, a soft curse under his breath before throwing a sideways glare. “Above and bloody beyond.”

A roll of his tired eyes before lowering his sunglasses was the only response Killian could muster at an early hour like this on a Saturday. Aside from the harsh sunlight battling the tinted windows of the black SUV, the hazy state of his brain had certainly left him in no mood for a lecture or an honor inspired chat - especially one that was clearly about to be riddled with rather specific vocabulary and those well known accusations he truly couldn’t care less about.

Well, at least that’s how he was planning on stubbornly playing this.

“Been fighting cameras and reporters all morning,” Liam continued, silencing his cellphone as the vehicle rounded the corner of a palace surface road. “It’s an absolute royal mess, Killian.”

There it was - irony intended or not. It was that single word he’d been smacked with a thousand times over.

Royal. Royal, royal, royal.

The term had labeled him - well, them - for as far back as his recollection stretched, but even after a few decades of being wrapped up in that title, Killian still found himself a little uncertain on how such a word was defined. It wasn’t easy to fend off his amusement at his brother’s unnoticed pun, but Killian leaned back against the leather seat and considered the approaching speech he’d heard so many times over the course of his privileged life. Talk about a king complex, he thought as he watched Liam type out some sort of message with very obvious irritation.

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