i answered the door in a towel for this

Baseball (M)

(I can’t get over baseball Jungkook so I had to write something)

╳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

╳ Genre: smut | One shot

╳ Summary: You hated being dragged to baseball games because your best friends boyfriend was on the team. But maybe this time wasn’t going to be so bad.

“You know I hate baseball” You said, your arm being dragged as your friend pulled you across your lawn.

“Yes, and basically any sport” Your friend Rylee said, unlocking her car door. “But today is his big game and I really want you to come along!”

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stormy nights || stiles stilinski (smut )

word count: 3550

prompt: my smut for lacrosse week!

warnings: smut, swearing

author’s note: this is my first solo smut and i hope you guys like it! let me know if i should keep writing smut. please leave feedback on this!


coming soon

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Three Is Good Company [m]

Genre : Smut / Threesome 

Summary : In a series of perfectly placed moments you witnessed something you probably weren’t supposed to see.

First of all, you didn’t mean to see it. It just happened. Literally. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time…maybe right place but still, you weren’t supposed to see it. But then why was his door open!?

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yoongi scenario | stuck on you

Originally posted by acciosugas

While wrapping gifts you end up super gluing your hand to Yoongi’s… not completely on accident…

prompt: I can’t wrap Christmas presents to save my life, but you’re amazing at it. Please help me!

pairing: yoongi x reader

requested by anon | 3.2k words | fluff, neighbour au

Why is gift wrapping so difficult? Why is wrapping paper so flimsy? Why are gifts such irregular shapes? Why is sellotape so hard to cut? And why is the whole palaver such an embarrassment when you can’t do it properly, crossing the corridor to the apartment across from yours with shamed red cheeks, as you knock on the door and ask desperately, “Could you possibly help me? I might have tied my hands together with ribbon…”

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Hunted {BTS Mafia!AU}

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: BTS mafia au
Warning: angst, smut (at some point), violence, mentions of prostitution/drugs, swearing, other dark themes I can’t think of right now

Writer: Bom

Word count: 1815

Originally posted by letsbreaktables


Y/n finds out about the mysterious ‘Nightwalker’ situation, and is infuriated when neither Yoongi, Youngji, Taehyung or Jungkook will tell her what it is. To their surprise, a known gang from the north has offered to help them in exchange for their own information and Youngji’s sudden disappearance

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‘‘During the Thanksgiving holiday of 1990, Shari and I visited Jeff’s new apartment. We found it exceedingly neat and orderly. It was furnished sparsely, a beige couch and chair supplied by the landlord. The kitchen and living room were combined, and Jeff proudly opened his refrigerator door to display how clean it was inside. The only thing odd about the kitchen was that he had bought a freezer.

‘‘Why’d you buy that?’‘ I asked.

‘‘To save money,’‘ Jeff answered. ‘‘When there’s a sale, I can stock up on things.’‘

If anything, this struck me as a sensible idea, and I continued on my tour. A short corridor led to the bathroom and bedroom, and it was cut off from the living room by a sliding door. Jeff had put a lock on that door, as if to seal it off completely.

‘‘Why the lock?’‘ I asked.

‘‘Just to make it safer,’‘ Jeff answered. ‘‘Against burglars.’‘

We all walked through the corridor and into the bedroom. There were a couple of black floor lamps, a television, and a computer.

‘‘It looks good, Jeff,’‘ I said.

He smiled proudly. On the way back to the living room, Shari stepped into the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain. Two black towels hung neatly over a spotless bathtub.

A month later, during the Christmas holidays, I returned to Jeff’s apartment a second time. Dave had come to West Allis with me this time, and I wanted to show him Jeff’s apartment. Jeff walked us both through the apartment, and it appeared more or less unchanged from my first visit, except for the elaborate security system he’d set up for his protection. There was a camera mounted above the door and a host of alarms which, Jeff said, would make an ‘’earth-shattering’’ sound should someone break into the apartment.

‘‘You’ve got a lot of security,’‘ I told him.

He seemed to cast about for an explanation.

‘‘Well,’‘ he said finally, ‘‘there are a lot of robberies around here, and I don’t want anyone to break in.’‘  

- Lionel Dahmer, from A Father’s Story.

Stress Relief

Brett x Reader

Warnings: sex, 18+ gif under cut , slight choking like not really but sort off

“Hey Brett.” One his team mates called to the wolf who followed the direction they were pointing in and spotted you arguing with a boy you’d hooked up with at a party a few nights before.

“Yeah, what?” He asked the team mate who frowned.

“Aren’t you two together.” The question had Brett rolling his eyes. He couldn’t exactly explain that you were both werewolves and used sex as a way to get through each other’s heat or to help each other to get back under control.

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My Best Friend’s Brother

Summary: You’re not prepared when your best friend and roommate’s handsome as hell brother shows up on your doorstep, and you quickly realise the attraction isn’t one sided.

Words: 3.4k

Sam x Reader

Warnings: AU (no hunting), smut, reader gender unspecified

A/N: this was written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s Tropes Challenge - my trope was Best Friend’s Brother

“Uh, Dean?” you called over your shoulder into the apartment you shared with your best friend, never taking your eyes off of the man at the door.

He couldn’t be Dean’s little brother. Dean’s little brother was all limbs, a lanky, gangly kid; he had puppy-dog eyes and hand-me-down band tees.

The person in front of you, though… this tall, strong, gorgeous man, couldn’t be Sammy.

He smirked down at you, and you frowned back, leaning against the door frame and folding your arms.

Dean yelled that he’d be there in a sec, and you fought back an eye roll.

“I didn’t know Dean was seeing anyone,” the guy commented, and your frown deepened.

“Wouldn’t his brother know something like that?” you tested, and he shrugged.

“We haven’t spoken in a while,” he told you, calmly.

“Sure,” you scoffed, “Well, he isn’t seeing anyone. We’re just roommates.”

“Nah,” he dismissed quickly, “You’re hot. Dean can’t live with hot people without fucking them.”

You straightened up, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You calling me a slut?”

He laughed, shaking his head. His hair fell in his eyes, so he swept it back behind his ear.

“No,” he assured you, “I’m calling my brother a slut.”

At that, you allowed small smile and nod.

He grinned back, before his eyes focussed over your head and his smile became unsure.

You looked over your shoulder to see Dean, pale faced and slack jawed.


That was the guy at the door.

Dean’s jaw snapped shut, walking with purpose towards him.

For a second, you thought he was going to punch him, but he pulled him into a bone-crushing hug and held on as if his life depended on it.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can’t I come visit my brother?” he teased, and Dean pulled back, shaking his head.

“Not after four years, fuck,” Dean sighed, looking at you and noting your confused expression. “Y/N, this is Sammy.”

Sam gave you an ‘I told you so’ look, and you smiled tightly.

“In that case, come on in,” you sighed, walking back into the apartment, “Wanna drink?”

You were in the front room, listening in as the brothers got to know each other again.

They hadn’t seen each other since Sam went to college and Dean stayed behind at Winchester Motors with their father, so you were happy to let them talk without interrupting.

After a while, there was a lull in conversation, Sam looking between you and Dean where the two of you were sat side by side on the couch.

“So… what’s the deal here?” he questioned, taking a swig from the beer you’d got him.

Dean looked at you and frowned.

“He thinks we’re smooshing nasties,” you clarified, and Dean burst out laughing.

You couldn’t help but laugh too as he doubled over, clutching his stomach as he looked over at his brother.

“You think I’m fuck- me and Y/N are-?” he couldn’t stop laughing long enough to finish his sentence.

Sam glared at the two of you, and you fought to keep your laughter under control.

“What’s so funny?” he grumbled, “You’re hot. Dean doesn’t say no to hot people.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And you think I just offered myself up?”

“You kinda did,” Dean reminded you, still chuckling, and you elbowed him in the side.

“Because you’re hot as fuck,” you huffed, unable to fight the smile on your face,  “But then I got to know you and realised you’re an ass.”

Sam frowned, “So you’ve really never…?”

“Never,” Dean confirmed, “Dad would fucking kill me for corrupting his best worker.”

You grinned at that, causing Sam to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“You’re a mechanic?” he questioned, and Dean answered for you.

“The third best in the whole damn district, after me and Dad.”

Sam nodded, impressed, as his eyes trailed over you with new-found appreciation.

Dean scoffed, getting up to grab himself a new beer,

“How long are you here for, Sammy?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” he replied, and you frowned at him.

“Wait, you’re staying here here?”

He smiled hopefully, and you looked at Dean for how to respond.

Your apartment only had two bedrooms, you didn’t have a spare for Sam to crash in.

“You’ll have to take the couch,” Dean told his brother, handing him a fresh beer before sitting back down and passing one to you.

“That’s fine,” he assured you, smiling wide.

You rolled your eyes, taking a swig of your beer. Dean watched you, mild concern furrowing his brow.

“He’s my brother-”

“I know,” you interrupted, smiling slightly, “It’s fine. Just… how long?”

Dean looked to Sam, prompting him to answer.

“I need to be back in Cali for the start of Law School, so until August. Please,” he added as an afterthought.

You nodded slowly.

You could cope with two months.

You could manage two months living with this attractive, self-confident, trainee lawyer - that shouldn’t be so hot - in your apartment.

You could handle two months of him looking at you like that, like he wanted to devour you.

You could survive two months of that without spontaneously combusting, right?

You could do it.

You couldn’t do it.

Every day living with Sam Winchester was mental torture.

Not only was he hot, just the right kind of cocky, and openly, obviously into you, but he was kind, funny, and so intelligent it actually pained you to be around him.

If he wasn’t your best friend’s brother you’d have given into his advances the first day you met, but, as luck would have it, you were two weeks into the most painful couple of months of your life.

It’d been a slow day at work, not many cars coming into the shop, and there was no need for all of you to be there, so John sent you home early.

You pulled your keys from your lock, pushing the door closed behind you and calling out that you were back.

You didn’t get a reply, so you kicked your shoes off and heading for the shower, figuring Sam had gone out for the day.

Thank God. You couldn’t be alone with that guy.

You took a really long shower, washing away the grime that came with being a mechanic.

Dean could deal with a cold shower, the bastard never left any hot water for you anyway.

You shut off the water, running your hands through your hair to stop it dripping, before pulling back the curtain and stepping out of the tub.

Just as you reached for your towel the bathroom door opened.

“Dude, what the fuck?” you yelped, quickly pulling the towel around yourself to protect your modesty, as Sam stood in the doorway, mouth agape.

“I didn’t know you were home- I- Why didn’t you lock the door?” he stammered, finally having the decency to look away.

“You didn’t answer when I came in,” you murmured through a blush, “I thought I was alone.”

“I only just got in,” he replied, looking back at you.

His eyes caught a drip of water as it made its way down your neck, falling into the dip of your clavicle.

His tongue subconsciously darted out to wet his lips as his eyes flicked back to yours.

Your breath caught in your throat as you noticed how wide his pupils were blown, how his chest was heaving slightly as he purposefully evened his breath.

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” you breathed, closing your eyes and inhaling steadily.

“Like what?”

Sam’s voice was rough, even lower than usual, and you had to fight back an honest to God whimper from escaping your slightly parted lips.

You opened your eyes when you heard him take a step towards you.

“Like you want me.”

A smirk curled the corner of his lips, turning his expression predatory.

“I do,” he told you, plainly. “That’s no secret.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have some pretty little college grad?” you asked, trying to remain calm, “Not some grease monkey that barely scraped through highschool?”

Sam chuckled low in his chest, stepping even closer, and you resisted the impulse to step back, standing your ground.

“Why are you selling yourself short?” he questioned, now so close that you could feel his body heat, “You might not have a college education, but you’re intelligent. You’re funny, kind, and so fucking hot, I’ve had the worst case of frustration for the last fourteen days.”

You bit your lip, searching his eyes for any sign that this was a joke.

There wasn’t any.

“Look, if you don’t want this, just say the word,” he murmured, his hand carefully coming to rest on your exposed shoulder, his thumb pressing into the dip of your neck.

You pulled in a shaky breath, instantly loving the feeling of his skin on yours, the possessiveness of the gesture.

“But if you do,” he continued, dipping his head so his lips were mere inches from your own. “Dean isn’t due home for a couple hours.”

Your heart was beating erratically, his proximity making your body react before your brain as you closed the distance and kissed him.

Sam smiled against your lips, pushing you back down where you’d gone onto your toes and pulling back.

“You want me,” he grinned, his hand still firmly holding you down, “You want me.”

“Have you seen you?” you responded, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. That moment just showed you one of the rare similarities between the brothers.

He laughed, leaning down and kissing your neck. You rolled your head back, letting him do what he wanted.

He kissed along the sensitive tendon, meeting your jawline and nipping lightly.

“Are we gonna keep doing this in the bathroom?” you said in a breath, “Or are you gonna take me to bed and fuck me?”

You could feel his moan reverberate against your skin as he bent his knees, his hand not covering your shoulder coming down to the back of your thigh, prompting you to jump.

He held you easily as your legs wrapped around his waist, both hands now holding your ass as you felt your towel begin to slip.

You tried to fix it with your hands but Sam pulled back from lavishing your neck with open kisses and teasing nibbles to glare at you.

“Let it fall,” he told you, and you put your arms around his shoulders. “We’re both gonna be naked soon anyway.”

You captured his lips in a needy kiss, licking into his mouth as if your life depended on it, as he began to walk the two of you from the bathroom.

“My room,” you murmured against his lips when he got to the hallway, “We’re not fucking on the couch.”

He nodded, and you carded your fingers into his hair, opting to dip your head and kiss his neck so he could see where he was going.

With little effort, he kept you up with one hand as he opened your door, easily walking you through to your room.

Shit, this guy was strong. Sure, you were strong, too. You’ve gotta have some muscle in your profession, but where the fuck did this college boy get his strength from?

“Do you play football?”

It came out before you had a chance to stop yourself as Sam dropped you to your feet, your towel falling to the floor while he closed the door.

“Why?” he questioned, facing you and beginning to unbutton his shirt. “You got a thing for jocks?”

Your eyes followed his hands as they worked open the buttons, and his took a second to take in your body, now fully naked in front of him.

“Got a thing for you,” you retorted, laughing slightly as you resisted the urge to cover yourself, “Just couldn’t figure out how you got so ripped.”

Sam smiled as he shrugged out of his shirt, instantly pulling his undershirt over his head, revealing his sharp hipbones and toned abs.

“Get on the bed,” he told you, nodding towards your mattress.

You did as you were told, grateful that you had something to do other than stare.

“You wanna know how I keep fit?” he asked, continuing to undress.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips.


“I spend downtime in the gym,” he informed you, only in his boxers as he made his way to the edge of your bed.

He nodded downwards, and you took the hint, dipping your fingers into his waistband and pulling downwards, revealing his slowly filling cock.

He stepped out of the last remaining item of clothing as his boxers reached his ankles. He crawled onto the bed, causing you to lie back and let him cover you with his body.

His arms bracketed your head as he leant down, kissing along your jaw towards the corner of your mouth.

“Have you got lube?” he asked, “Condoms?”

You placed a kiss to his lips before replying.


He moved away to retrieve the items, and you used the time to reposition yourself on the bed, checking out his tight ass as you did so.

“What’s your favourite sport?” you asked, wanting to know more about him now you were getting down to it.

He grinned as he kneeled beside you in the mattress, dropping the condom on the pillow and flicking open the lube cap.

“Fornication,” he replied, using his legs to spread yours.

You laughed breathlessly, parting your legs and allowing him to situate himself between them.

The backs of his knuckles lightly scraped the inside of your thigh as his fingers circled between your legs, causing you to gasp and bite your lip.

He began to kiss down your neck as his thick middle finger entered you, your skin erupting in goosebumps at his breath fanned across your chest.

His mouth continued to lavish your body with attention as his fingers slowly worked you open.

Your hand tangled into his sun-kissed hair, loving the feeling of it between your fingers.

You’d never liked long hair on guys before but, like everything else, Sam pulled it off and it made you want him even more.

And here he was, the forbidden fruit, your best friends brother, your boss’ son, stretching you open on his thick, long, perfect fingers.

You began shifting your hips, fucking yourself back on his fingers, desperate for more.

“Sam,” you breathed, causing him to stop kissing your stomach and look up at you, his mouth still parted against your skin. “Please.”

He grinned, licking a line from your stomach, up your chest, all the way to nip at your jaw.

“You begging?” he questioned, moving his fingers in just the right way that had you whimpering.

“Please,” you repeated, clenching your fingers in his hair and pulling slightly.

Propped himself up on his left arm smiling down at you as he moved his fingers just enough to have you gasping and clenching around him.

“You look good when you’re begging me to fuck you,” he murmured, kissing you fiercely.

You kissed him back with fervor, not caring that he was teasing you. You wanted him bad enough, you’d happily beg to get his gorgeous cock if that’s what it took to get him inside you.

You let go of his hair, reaching beside your head to get the condom packet and rip it open.

Sam pulled back, sitting back on his heels, and taking the condom from you.

He gently pulled his fingers from you, rolling the condom down his cock swiftly before crawling back over you.

You spread your legs, your feet flat on the bed as you lifted your hips. Sam placed a pillow below underneath you as he lined himself up.

“You ready?” he asked, and you nodded, biting at your lips as you felt the head of his thick cock press into you.

Fuck, he was big. Every sweet inch stretched you more, and you revelled in the feeling of being so full.

He paused as his hips met your inner thighs, resting his forehead to yours and breathing heavily.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, and you huffed out a breathless laugh of agreement.

The two of you kissed slowly as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you, mapping each other’s mouths with exploratory tongues.

You clenched experimentally around him, rolling your hips slightly and causing him to groan against your lips.

“C’mon, Sam,” you murmured, looking up at him with with hooded eyes, “Show me what you can do.”

The glint in his eyes at the slight challenge reminded you of his brother, and you quickly kissed him to clear the image from your head.

He began to move his hips, grinding deeper into you before pulling back slowly.

His thrusts were long, deliberate, and you loved the feeling of him entering you over and over.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, carding a hand back into his hair as he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting but never enough to leave a mark.

His hands pushed at the backs of your thighs, lifting your legs towards your chest to get even deeper.

Small moans began to fall from your parted lips as his cock reached further inside of you, pushing you close to the edge within minutes.

Sam sensed how close you were, slowing his thrusts to keep you from tipping over.

“Please,” you began again, “Please, please.”

“Soon,” he agreed, kissing your complaint away.

You gave in as he let go of your thighs in order to hold your face, wrapping your legs around his waist and urging him on with your heels digging into his lower back.

“You can come like this?” he asked, his voice so low and raspy that you couldn’t contain your whimper this time. “Just on my cock?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, lifting your hips to meet his, “Please.”

He nodded, letting go of your face to place his hands either side of your head, chasing his orgasm as he raced to bring you to yours.

Your eyes scrunched shut, gasps and moans punched out of you as he fucked you with purpose.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “Sam, I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” he replied, his eyes focussed on your face, loving the look of ecstasy he was drawing from you.

You complied with a breathy moan, clenching around him as he continued to fuck you through your release.

“That’s it,” he murmured, “Shit, Y/N, so hot.”

You nodded, opening your eyes just in time for his to close as his climax took over him and he came, spilling into the condom with a low groan.

“Fuck,” he breathed, dropping down to his elbows.

His chest was heaving, glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and you resisted the sudden urge to taste his skin.

“I just showered,” you groaned after a while basking in the afterglow.

Sam laughed breathlessly, pulling out of you and getting out of bed, tossing the condom in the trash before throwing you his shirt to clean up with.

You laughed softly as he got back into bed with you, hiding your face in your hands.

“What?” Sam asked, smiling fondly as he turned his head to face you.

“I’m in bed with my best friend’s brother,” you announced, biting your lip as you looked at him.

“I had fun,” he told you, his hand reaching out to scritch lightly at your scalp.

You smiled, “Yeah, me too.”

The two of you were laying together in a comfortable silence before you heard Dean come into the apartment.

“He’s not due home for another hour,” Sam hissed, scrambling out of bed quickly.

“The shop was dead today,” you told him, sitting up and looking around for your clothes.

He hastily began redressing, realising too late that his undershirt was ruined as Dean’s footsteps came closer.

There was a knock, and you shot Sam a panicked look as he started to talk, opening the door.

“Hey kiddo, just letting you know I’m back-”

Dean’s voice died in his throat as he saw Sam buttoning up his flannel, smiling awkwardly.

He turned to you, and you were grateful for your covers protecting your modesty. Well, what was left of it.

Seriously, Y/N?” he asked, his expression clearly unimpressed, “My brother?”

You matched Sam’s uncomfortable smile as you tried to lighten the tone.

“What can I say?” you offered, “I’m a sucker for Winchesters.”

@greeneyesandangelgrace, @lindsaylove1226, @winchesterprincessbride, @mpankey11, @mariairwin666, @spnolivia, @willowtighe, @i-just-wanna-live-gc, @ashleycarpino, @ronnie248-blog, @laurivcr, @faegal04, @sbm276, @scientifically-me, @tiffanycaruso, @blacktithe7, @kakdhaoan919, @arryn-nyx, @keepingitrealcas, @annice21, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @gecko9596

Sam tags: @winchesterr67, @oriona75, @spn-fan-girl-173, @creativefools, @supernatural-squadd, @supernaturalyobsessed, @sammy-moo, @impalaimagining

Forever (no RPF): @supernaturalyobsessed

FOREVER forever tags: @ruined-by-destiel, @castielismysaviour, @chelsea072498, @starswirlblitz, @danijimenezv, @obi-wan-my-only-ho, @mysteriouslyme81, @jpadjackles, @ashleychinrock, @loveitsallineed, @apeshit7x, @sam-reidzugzwang, @femmewinchester, @keepingitrealcas, @fangirlextraordinaire, @writingbeautifulmen, @thelittleredwhocould, @riversong-sam, @moonstar84, @authoressskr, @findingfitnessforme

S A V I O R (B. Barnes x Reader)

Word count: 2688

Warnings: Kissing, some Russian and this is shit, but whatever.

Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight car
Тоска, проржавевший, семнадцать, Рассвет, печи, девять, доброкачественная, встреча выпускников/корпоративы, один, грузовых автомобилей

My hands sting and I can already feel the bruises beginning to form.
I sit to catch my breath, in the deafening silence I hear a drop of my blood hit the scuffed wooden floor.

Looking back, not wrapping my hands was a bad idea.

I get onto my feet and hook another bag up. This time, being careful to wash and wrap my hands.
Letting out years of pent up anger felt good after a long day of dealing with idiotic people.

“You should probably take care of that first.” Steve comments just as I knock the bag off its chain, accidentally spilling sand across the floor.
“If it isn’t the star-spangled man with a plan, why are you here? What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything -” he says obviously finding humour in his joke. My patience is running thin and I shoot him a glare.
He clears his throat, regaining his composure. “Fury wanted to see you.”
“Fury? Nick Fury, the one that relieved me of my title as field agent?-” Steve tries to cut me off
“-All because yours truly made one little mistake-”
“You almost got us killed.” He cuts in
“But I didn’t! I came in and saved your ass, again!”
“You wouldn’t have had to save us if you stuck to the orders!”
“It was my brother! What would you have done! I fixed my mistake, but Fury didn’t give me my second chance, why should I give him his?”
“Y/N I-” he sighs “I need your help.”
I shoot him a questioning look. “My silence is your cue.”
“Do you remember Bucky?”
“Bucky. Barnes?…The Winter Soldier? Yeah, why?”
“S.H.E.I.L.D wants to recruit him”
“Why? He tried to kill us. You were his mission-”
“I was his friend.”
“Steve, Bucky was your friend, the Winter Soldier, he’s your enemy. You can’t save him. He’s long gone. And he tried to kill us.”
“He remembers.” Steve argues “H-he’s still the Bucky I used to know, deep down.” He clears his throat again.
“Fury said that if you brought him back successfully-and alive- he’ll give you your job back.”
“Fine, but I’m doing this for me, and only me, not for you or your issues with your broken boyfriend.” Steve barely contained his excitement as we walk to the jet waiting outside. After a short flight to Stark tower and many questioning glances, we’re sat around a table discussing the terms of the mission.

“There are tracking devices in all the weapons in case you decide to go rogue.”
“Stark, I take my job very seriously.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just a precaution.”
I glance over the weapons layed out in front on me and pick a few, stuffing them in my duffle bag. I pause when I see an unfamiliar weapon. “Hey, Stark, what’s this?”
“Turn it away from you, press the green button, it vaporizes whatever its aimed at.” He demonstrated on a vase sitting on the table and it turned to a pile of ash.
“Woah. That’s awesome!”
“Thank you.”
“Tony, if only you were as big as your ego, maybe you’d be able to reach the top shelf.” Although he was a few inches taller than me I still liked to tease him about his height compared to the others.

I sat back down looking over the Winter Soldier’s case file once again, taking in all the details, adding them to what I already know. In his military picture he looks young, determined, sweet, definitely handsome, probably a ladies man with his hair neatly cut and gelled.
In the other two he looked different. There’s one of him in cryo. Even in his frozen state you can still make out the crease in his brow, he looks like he’s… in pain. The one of him in action, a majority of his face is covered by a black mask, his hair long and messy. His metal arm stood out against his black uniform. The vibranium caught the sun and made the red star stand out even more. The way I recognized him best, as the Winter Soldier.

“What?” I say snapping out of my stupor

“You spaced out, it’s time for us to leave, you’re headed to Shelbyville, Indiana, that’s where the target was seen last.”

“He’s not a target.” Steve yelled from down the hall, slamming the door.

“Actually, Sam? Wilson, right? Alright bird-boy. I say we head to Washington. I was thinking metal-man grew up in Indiana, maybe he went looking for answers he couldn’t find. If you’re a fossil who doesn’t know how to properly use a computer, where would you go to search for the past?”

“The Smithsonian.” Bruce chimed in when we walked past him lab. I shot him a smile, seeing as he was the only one who sided with me when I almost got them killed, he’s one of my favorites. Him and Natasha that is. Agent Romanoff was always one of my favourites.
“Exactly, there’s a big plaque dedicated to Barnes there. I say we check it out. I don’t think Barnes would stay in one place too long, he knows he’s wanted.”
“You really think he’s there?”
“Wilson, I’m a spy, its my job to know where people are.” I send over my shoulder on my way into the quinjet. I’m met with a light chuckle from Mr. Patriotism himself. “What’re you laughing at?”
“You know, you’re quite funny, agent Y/L/N.” I’m slightly startled by the title, not being used to it anymore. Does he just have that much faith that I’ll succeed? Although, I’ve only failed one or two missions. “Alright Rogers, we’ve got three hours on the jet, try to behave.”

Three hours later I’m dropped off at one of Stark’s safe houses a few blocks from the Smithsonian.
“Call when you’ve got him, we’ll send a jet. And Y/N, please, don’t hurt him unless you absolutely need to.” A quick nod and a small smile from the Captain is my parting, from here I’m on my own. I head into the small rundown house, it’s bigger on the inside, cleaner and brighter too. There’s a bed to one side and a bathroom on the other.

“There’s no place like home.”

I drop my duffle and slip a gun into the waistband of my pants. I also grab a knife and slip it into the holster in my jacket, you can’t be too careful.

I decide to take the small ‘getaway’ car in the garage. Its not as great as Steve’s bug though.

The first few days go by with no sign of the infamous soldier. I’m caught off guard to finally see the one and only sporting a baseball cap, jeans and a sweatshirt. He has gloves on too, it seems. Its not too cold, it’s only late October, he’s most likely trying to hide the metal that could set civilians into a panic and most certainly give him away. He’s standing near the plaque dedicated to the one James Barnes of the 107th.

I stand and observe him for a little while. He reads the words over and over again. Its a good ten minutes before I finally walk over, careful not to startle him. I stand next to him and read the plaque for myself.
“Bucky seems like he was a great person, definitely someone you’d want to befriend.” He seems caught off guard by my words and he takes a second to comprehend my sentence.
“Yeah I bet he was a great person.” He says. “Was.” He says. I don’t comment on it because I know I wasn’t supposed to hear it. After another few minutes of silence I start again.

“You know, Steve really misses you.” His head shoots up and his eyes are dark and guarded. He recognized the name.

“He remembers.” Steve’s words play over in my head.

“Who sent you?” He questions obviously ready for a fight.
“S.H.E.I.L.D.” the look on his face tells me he doesn’t believe me.
“They want to recruit you.” No response.
“Bucky-” recognition crosses his features, but is gone almost immediately and his eyes soften, barely. He looked like he was thinking hard, remembering.
“-Steve wants you back, he wants you to remember and I can help.” I show him my S.H.E.I.L.D badge for proof
“Let’s go because that guard hasn’t stopped watching you since you came in.” We head towards the street making our way to my car.
A tall man blocks our way. I pull out a gun and shoot. I clip his shoulder and he gets my leg, I collapse, but shoot again, this time its a head shot. The car’s gone and I can’t walk.
“How’d you get those through security?”
“Same way you got your arm through. Can you carry me, I can’t walk.” He picks me up as if I weighed nothing while I made a makeshift tourniquet.
I call Steve and then Romanoff and Banner, but none of them answer. He sets me down in a chair when we reach the safe house.
“Well, Earth’s mightiest heroes aren’t answering, I guess we’ll spend the night here. I’ll take first watch. You rest.” He hesitates, obviously not trusting me.
“If Steve trusts me, you can too. I promise.” He gets up and heads towards the bathroom. I hear the water start to run. I decide to make something light to eat for us, assuming he hasn’t had much lately. I hear the door click open.
“Hey, I made us dinner-” he standing in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “I uhm, left my clothes.”
I hand him his clothes and try to keep my gaze from wandering. The door clicks shut again and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding in. I sit on the bed and begin eating my sandwich. Bucky comes out, fully clothed with his hair neatly combed. I hand him his plate.
“You know, if there’s anything you want to know about yourself, I could try to answer, the basics at least. You’ll have to ask Rogers on the rest.”
“You know, that wasn’t me. None of it was me, I killed… So many people b-but, it wasn’t me.”
“I know Bucky.” I say taking his plate as he lays down.

He tosses and turns for hours. And when his breathing finally evens out I’m relieved to know he’s at least resting. I know what torture can do to a person. He sleeps for about an hour before he wakes up, immediately on guard. He wraps his metal hand around my throat
“Кто тебя послал?” Who sent you?
I’ve never been caught like this before, I could get out easily, but that would only make him more nervous,
“Bucky.” I choke out. “Its me, no one sent me.” His eyes soften and he drops me.
“I’m so sorry.” He says softly, glancing at the forming bruises.
“Its okay, I have them too, you know.” He looks surprised,
“You do?”
“Mm.” He looks at me for another second before going and sitting on the bed. He mutters quietly in Russian, but I can’t make out the words. I sidestep my bag and go to the sink.
“Drink.” I say handing him the glass. “What were you just mumbling?”
“Пытки равна прочности.”
“Torture equals strength.” We say together.
“ It was written on every surface back at Hydra.” I sit on the bed next to him, a bit closer than necessary.
“Все это будет нормально.” It’ll all be okay
He looks up at me and for the first time I see the ghost of a smile grace his features.
My phone rings interrupting our conversation.
“I’m sorry, we had a mission, I’ll come out to pick you up now.”

Thanks Clint, see you soon.“

“Katniss will be here soon, just throw your stuff in my duffle, I got it.” He does as he’s told, obviously confused, and goes back to his spot on the bed. It kind of set me off that he was trusting me. I knew well enough that it was an act. That he would try something. It was almost too easy.


Bucky became my new partner on all my missions and he’s remembering more and more.
With the help of Steve of course.
Its been about 2 years. I’ll fill you in on the details.

I was right, when Clint came, Bucky tried to escape. To kill us. He didn’t succeed. He was locked up for a while, with only minimal visits from me or from Steve. Steve helped him to remember, I was like a therapist. Maybe it was because I didn’t remind him, maybe because I was, in a sense, a stranger, but nevertheless, we grew closer. Eventually, I got Fury to agree to let Barnes roam, with me as an escort. Once he was stable enough, he began training, which, in my opinion, he didn’t need. And then he was recruited.

“Hey, Buck, we gotta go, we’re on our way to Vegas, remember?”
Finally, a mission in a nice place. We drop down and check into a nice hotel, that’s a new one. There’s a Hydra base under one of the abandoned casinos in town and its our job to take it down.


“Hey Buck, we’re in Vegas, we should do something fun.”
I say as we walk away from the burning building, cliché am I right?

“Why don’t we go back to the hotel and order room service? Watch a few movies, I’m still not caught up with the 21st century.” I laugh and nod my head in agreement.
I collapse on the bed and bury my face in the pillow.
“Are you tired, Мой ангел?”
I feel a rush of warmth at the name. Did he just call me his angel?
“No, just getting comfy.” I reply, my voice muffled my the pillow.
“I can make you comfy.” He says climbing in beside me and pulling me to him. He trails kisses up my neck to my jaw. I turn over to face him and give him a puzzled look. I’m not denying my feelings, everyone knew they were there, we’ve just never… confronted it, or even talked about it. And he’s never this carefree.

He smiles and captures my lips with his, a soft, yet hungry kiss, like he’d been waiting to do it. He wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he instinctively put his hands on either side of my head to hold himself up. I tuck my hand up under his shirt and he pulls away only long enough my me to slip his shirt off and throw it across the room. I trace the skin where the metal meets, its still red, but not as bad as when I caught him watching his own reflection. As if he were a monster, a few weeks after I brought him to S.H.E.I.L.D. he slipped my shirt up over my head and trailed kisses down my neck, to my chest and onto my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He brings his mouth back up to mine and his tongue skims my bottom lip. The moment ends when my phone rings insanely loudly. Bucky curses under his breath.
“What?” I snap at the person on the other line.
“Did I interrupt?” Comes the snarky voice of Tony on the other end.
“Why are you calling, Stark?”
“I sent Natasha to come get you guys, she’ll be there in a few hours.”
I end the call without a goodbye and look to the soldier piercing me with his blue eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He just chuckles and places a light kiss to my forehead.
“We’d better get dressed.” He muses a playful smirk on his face.
“To be continued, Кукла.”


Eyes Closed ;; Tom Holland


summary: tom and the reader are roommates and he has to close his eyes to help her out in certain situations

warnings: uhhh mentionings of nudity and some foul language


“Thomas!” I yell from the bathroom, hiding my bare, cold, and wet body from behind the shower curtain.

God this was so embarrassing, but an honest mistake as well. My face started to heat up, my mind making up scenarios and the things Tom would say. He’d probably think I’m a major dumbass and who wants to live with a dumbass? Idiots. And Tom is not an idiot so therefor, after this is finished with, I am expecting him to start boxing up his stuff or something.

“Y/N? What’s up, is something wrong?” I hear his concerned voice muffled behind the closed door.

A soft smile is brought to my face at the sound of him, but I hurry to answer his question, “I’m fine, just forgot my towel on my bed. Can you like, I don’t know…”

There’s a brief silence between us and I hear his lighthearted chuckle, “You want me to bring it in there for you, Y/N?”

“I’m that much of a trouble?”

“Not at all, darling.” I listen to his footsteps fade away and then another light knock against the door, “I’m coming in, my hand is over my eyes so I won’t see you.”

I peek from behind the curtain and hold my hand out. The doorknob twists and he opens the door. It hits the door stopper and he walks in. I can’t help but let out a little giggle at how adorable he was acting. I’m glad he let me have my privacy and that he didn’t seemed phased by this. I grab the towel and thank him, our hands brushing in the midst of him handing off the towel.

“You’re great, T.” I smile, drying myself off from behind the curtain.

I hear him shut the door then on the other side of it say, “I’ve always wanted to hear you say that about me!”



Well actually, not really, more like piss but whatever. I’m still stuck on the toilet with no toilet paper. Why am I always stuck in this situation, and why do I always drag Tom into them? By this point, he probably doesn’t care, but I always feel so guilty afterwards.

“Tom!” I yell his name, setting my elbows on my knees in an effort to lean closer to the door. No response, “Thomas Stanley!”

Quick footsteps sound and they make their way closer to the door until it swings open, Tom appearing on the doorframe right in front of me, “Sorry love what’s up-“

“Tom! Get out what the fuck!”

The door slams as I grab the hem of the oversized sweater was wearing and tried to hide myself with it. My face burns with embarrassment, knowing all too well that he saw more than either of us wanted. I hold my head in my hands, mortified. Man, I need to start locking the door.

“I am-” Tom sighs from the other side of the door, “so stupid. And so so so sorry, Y/N.”

I breathe out a laugh, letting go of the sweater, “Your not stupid, it’s fine.”

“What did you need, darling?”

“Uhhh, toilet paper. Sorry.” I chuckle, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was walk back in to the bathroom with me still sitting on the toilet.

“Alright, I’ll close my eyes this time. I promise.” he says, the smile on his face was evident in his voice.

The door handle twists again and I pull my shirt down again, just in case. His entire arm is thrown across his eyeslids this time as he holds out the toilet paper. I snatch it and he quickly turns around, blindly finding the door and walking out. It was a hilariously precious sight, and so nice knowing that I had at least a little dignity left.

“Thank you! I love you!” I call, tearing off some of the paper, the ripping sounding like angels singing.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to deliver toilet paper to anyone other than you.”


“Arrghhh!” I groan, throwing my arms down at my sides and stomping my foot in frustration, “This is why I should always wear sports bras.”

The clasp on the back of my bra was stuck and wouldn’t come undone. I would try and pull it over my head, but being that this is my nicest one, I wasn’t willing to risk damaging it. I look at the time on the stove and huff before throwing my arms behind my back again and struggling miserably, again. I should probably head back to my bedroom instead of standing in the middle of the kitchen with no shirt. But alas, the flat door opened and in followed Tom.

And like any sensible girl does when she’s only wearing a bra, I collapsed to the ground, hiding behind the kitchen island.


“Y/N? Why are you broached behind the island?” he laughs, confused by my hiding.

“Uh,” I mumble, trying to think of a reasonable excuse but none are believable, so, i just blurt, “I’m not wearing a shirt and I can’t unhook my bra. Help?”

“My eyes are already closed, love.”

I rise slowly from the ground, watching him navigate his way towards me by touching everything. I guide him, and finally he’s behind me. His fingers cold against my hot skin, causing goosebumps to rise as he fiddles with the clasp.

“Oh, lacey? Who were trying to impress, Y/N?” he hums teasingly, playing with some of the small ruffles on the straps.

“I thought your eyes were closed, hmm? Don’t be a peeping Tom now, Tom.” I laugh at my own pun and can practically sense Tom rolling his eyes at my terrible comment.

“They are love, I’m a man of my word, I can feel the lace though.” He says, his breath hitting the back of my neck, causing a slight shiver to go down my spine, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Myself.” I state matter-of-factly.

“Atta girl.” he chuckles, finally twisting the clasp free.

“Wow, you must have experience, Holland.” I chuckle, wondering how in the world he unhooked it with his eyes closed.

“Well,” he mumbles, eyes still closed as I start to walk away, “I may have peeked once or twice. And the blue looks nice on you I must say.”

“Thomas!” I squeal, running back to my room and shutting the door behind me.


Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean faces the biological downsides of being an Alpha, perhaps you could help him out? 

Warnings: past lover and death, otherwise fluff

Part Two

Part Three

yeee…A/B/O dynamics and Sam ain’t knowing shit. BTW this is my personal take on a certain topic that will follow in this fic. I don’t like the idea of an Omega being the only one being super domestic ;)

Enjoy 2639 words of pure…whatever you want it to be <3

He ignored it. At first. The endless tearing of fabric, low growling and unholy curses. Nipping on his beer, Sam simply continued reading his book trying not to interfere with his Alpha brother and the problems that came with the title. It was only when Dean emerged in the living room, a slightly crazed look in his eyes Sam sat up nervously, trying to figure his brother out.

“Everything alright?”

Glowing green eyes met his nervous ones.

“Yeah, I just need…” Dean’s voice was airy, the usual hoarse gruff was somewhat softened and he looked like a man who just ran a marathon. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his lungs trying to fill as much air into them as possible.

Footsteps full of intent led Dean to the sofa. Inspecting the piece of furniture for a minute, Sam’s eyes widened when his brother started ripping the cushions from it. He looked comically, almost stupid balancing the soft pillows, practically buried underneath the mountain of cushions. “…I need those.”

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Perfect Strangers (Part 1): Knock, Knock, Who’s There

Title:  Perfect Strangers (Part 1): Knock, Knock, Who’s There

Author:  Mimi @captain-rogers-beard

Summary:  Bucky Barnes is the consummate ladies man, a different girl every night, no lasting relationships. You are a painfully shy bookworm terrified of getting involved with someone for fear of getting hurt. When the two of you literally run into each other, sparks fly.

Sequel to Three’s Company

Characters:  Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers

Word Count:  1648

Warnings: mild language

Author’s Notes: Thank you to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan and @climbthatmooselikeatree for your invaluable help and contributions.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

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You Understand, Right? (Part 12): Who Will You Choose?

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader

Length: 1549+ words


A/N: A lot of you guys said you wanted more Sam in this series, but I don’t think this is what you had in mind huhuuhuhuu. Imma try to incorporate his character more in the series bc I do agree that he has been neglected! 

Feedback is appreciated (AND SO ARE YOU)!


“I understand if you want me to leave,” Y/N mumbled against his chest, her grip on his jacket loosening itself.

“Leave? Leave where?” Dean asked, confused at her words.

“I betrayed your trust. I didn’t believe you. I nearly gave the Colt to Crowley! You have a million and one reasons to hate me!”

“Hey, none of that,” Dean rebutted sharply. “I told you when you left that I would never hate you. You’re family, and nothing will change that.”


“C’mon. Let’s go back to the motel.” Dean helped her to get on her feet, letting her lean on him for support before stabilizing herself. “You good?”

“Yea.” She kept a hand around his elbow for support as they made the short trip back to their motel room.

When they went back in, Sam was just putting on his shirt, his jeans already on, and his hair still wet from the shower.

“Where’d you guys go?” he asked, before his gaze settling on Y/N’s bruised neck. “What the hell? What happened?” In two giant steps, he was in front of her, a gentle had lifting her head to examine her blue-tinted skin.

“I stole the Colt,” Y/N replied.

“What? Why would you do that?” Sam’s eyes widened in shock.

“I stole it for Crowley. He said he needed it.”

The youngest Winchester took three steps backwards, as if her skin was fire that burned his skin.

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Away Games: Part Three. [Smut]

A/N; Hello lovelies! I am so sorry it took me so long to get to this! I reaaaaally liked this chapter and don’t hate Isaac too much ;)  Enjoy xoxo

Pairing: ScottMccallxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune


Word count: 6,413

Listen to me.

[Part one.]  [Part two.]

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

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Sugar Cookies [Steve Harrington]

Originally posted by dailystrangerthings

Prompt: Steve asks his girlfriend to watch over Dustin with him one friday night. 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader. A lot of Steve and Dustin interactions.

Fandom: Stranger Things

(Y/N) locked the door of her bright red BMW. It had been funny enough when she started dating Steve, as they both had the same car but in different shades of red. Nevertheless, she loved her car, and loved the way it looked when parked next to Steve’s burgundy one. 

She made her way toward the Henderson’s house, weighing three grocery bags in her hands. She regretted her choice of clothes: a thick mustard-colored sweater and a leather jacket on top. With the drive from the store to Dustin’s house and the carrying of the bag, she was starting to feel some sweat down her back. 

“Let me help you with that,” Steve said, the minute he opened the door. 

In one swift move, he took two of the bags from his girlfriend’s hands into his own. 

“Thanks,” (Y/N) responded. She stood on her toes to place a quick, chaste kiss on Steve’s lips before she entered the house. 

“What’s all this?” Steve asked as he closed the door with the back of his feet.

“I thought we could make some cookies,” (Y/N) shrugged, walking to the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time she’d accompanied Steve to babysit Dustin, and so she knew where things were. 

A little boy with curly hair was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, an already started game of Battleship on the table in front of him. 

“Hi (Y/N),” Dustin greeted.

“Hey Dustin,” (Y/N) said, smiling at him. “Started the fun without me, I see.”

Dustin shrugged. 

“I hope you didn’t look at my board while I was gone,” Steve told Dustin when he walked inside the room. He left the grocery bags on the counter and pecked (Y/N)’s cheek. 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Started sucking face already?” 

“Shut up,” Steve replied, sitting down in front of Dustin. 

(Y/N) leaned back on the kitchen counter. 

“So, boys,” she started. None of them looked up at her, as they had rekindled their game. “I was thinking we could bake some cookies,” still, no reaction from either of them. “When you’re done playing, that is.” 

Steve nodded briefly. “Sure,” he mumbled. 

“F4,” Dustin said, confidently.

“Little shit,” Steve exclaimed. He looked down on his board and placed a little red piece over one of his ships. 

He had so looked at Steve’s board.

“We’re done, (Y/N),” Dustin called from the kitchen. “I beat Steve’s ass!”

“Only because you cheated,” her boyfriend replied.

(Y/N) got up from the couch in the living room, closing the book she was reading and placing it over the coffee table. She hoped Mrs. Henderson wouldn’t mind she’d read her romance novel. 

“So, what’d you guys want to do?” (Y/N) asked, walking inside the kitchen.

Dustin was grinning smoothly as Steve picked up the pieces from the board game, a frown on his face. 

“Well, you proposed we’d make cookies,” Dustin answered. “I want cookies.”

“You like sugar cookies?” (Y/N) asked. 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Who doesn’t like sugar cookies?” 

Steve turned. “You’re way too sarcastic for your own good,”

Dustin smiled. “So - when do we start?” 

(Y/N) grinned as Steve bent down and opened the door of the oven, the scent of freshly baked cookies reaching her nose. He took out the tray, placing it over the counter. 

“Cookies!” Dustin exclaimed. He stretched out his hand to grab one. 

“Not yet,” Steve said, kitchen towel in hand. “They’re hot,” 

“So are you,” (Y/N) told him. 

Steve grinned while Dustin rolled his eyes. 

“Will you stop?” The kid whined. 

“You love us,” Steve said, smugly. 

Dustin snorted. (Y/N) laughed. Dustin’s hair was completely sprinkled with flour, and he had a white stripe over his cheek. Steve’s hair was completely intact because he had refused to be anywhere near the flour. 

Steve walked over to his girlfriend, completely ignoring Dustin’s pleas. He hugged her by her waist, pulling her close to him. She quickly snaked her arms around his neck. Steve stared lovingly at his girlfriend’s eyes, eyes sparkling. 

“I love you so much,” the boy stated, in a whisper. 

(Y/N) stood on her toes and crashed her lips against his. This time, however, it wasn’t a quick peck. Steve’s lips moved against (Y/N)’s with perfect precision, as if made for one another. Because they were. 

“I love you too,” the girl replied, smiling into the kiss.

Steve chuckled and rested his forehead against hers for a moment. They could stay like that forever, in each other’s arms, feeling each other’s breathing. 

“You two are completely disgusting,” Dustin called.

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes, breaking apart from (Y/N). 

“You are one to talk,” Steve responded.

Dustin shrugged and quickly grabbed a cookie from the tray. 

“I told you not to grab them yet!” Steve exclaimed. 

“They’re not hot anymore!” Dustin answered. “You two got so lost sucking face that you completely loss track of time.”

“He’s got a point,” (Y/N) shrugged.

Steve turned to her, mouth open. “You’re siding with him?” He asked with mocked hurt. 

(Y/N) laughed and grabbed a cookie from the tray. She stuck her tongue out to Steve, who laughed at the gesture. 

“They’re really good!” Dustin called, having already devoured the cookie. 

Steve smiled, placing his arm over (Y/N)’s shoulder. (Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder and gave the cookie a small bite. 

“Give me that,” Steve said, taking the cookie from her hand and biting into it. 

Dustin sighed. “That’s it,” the boy called, grabbing another cookie from the tray and stomping his way into his room. “Thanks for stealing my babysitter, (Y/N)!”

Steve and (Y/N) laughed. 

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Steve said. 

(Y/N) chuckled. “I had a great time. Dustin’s a good kid.”

“He is. And you’re a fantastic babysitter. Which leads me think,” Steve smiled. “That you’re going to be a great mom.”

“Slow down, mister,” (Y/N) responded. “It’s way too early.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Of course I didn’t mean now,” he muttered. “But, one day -,”

(Y/N) pecked her boyfriend’s nose. “Yes, one day.” 

Steve shoved another cookie in his mouth before walking over to the living room. 

“Dustin, what about we watch Star Wars?” Steve proposed, plopping himself onto the couch. 

The little boy emerged from his room, now into his pajamas. (Y/N) had to admit that had been the cutest thing she’d seen in her life. 

“Only if you two promise to sit on different couches,” the boy said, taking a seat next to Steve. 

(Y/N) sat next to Dustin, a little bowl with cookies in it resting on her hands. 

Dustin quickly set up the movie and returned to his spot. Over Dustin’s head, Steve stretched out his arm and (Y/N) took his hand in hers. It was halfway through the movie that (Y/N) felt Dustin’s head rest on her chest. She smiled to herself.

Oh, those were the nights. 

The Girl Next Door [Tom Holland Smut]

Request: “ #695 for tom holland 😛 [[know you’re busy but i feel u, take your time]] “ [anonnymous] 

Words: 1.7+k

Rating: Explicit

Trigger warings: Smut, cheesy romcom story lmao

Summary: You just wanted to take a shower and relax in bed after a rough day.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble but I made it into a full imagine to fulfill the thirst of my sweet sinful followers that have been requesting Tom Holland. Y’all give me life. I hope you like this. Also I wanted it to be short but whoops. 

As soon as you walked into your apartment you slipped out of your shoes and started peeling off your clothes. You knew your room mate wouldn’t be home at that time and you couldn’t care less if your creepy neighbor was staring at you through the window. Not today. You were too tired to think about it. Too sweaty to stay on this hideous polo shirt that was the bookstore uniform. All you needed right now was a nice shower and lay in your bed reading one of those erotica books your sister gave you because not even your brain were working right to read anything with depth. You needed to relax.  

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Daddy Issues

Pairing: JungKook & Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Summary: A top student, marks always high. College was not a dream for her…Except she didn’t have enough money. Her parents never earned much so they literally took care of themselves. Her boss acting as a dick towards her she quited her job. Even though she had no idea what she let herself into this was her only option.

Other Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3  / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

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The Wild Elk Lodge

Summary: You’re thoroughly enjoying this 3 star hotel Mick scored. When Dean knocks on your door and asks you come swimming with him, you can’t resist. However, neither of you brought swimsuits, causing things to escalate into more than just swimming. 

A/N: This was inspired by episode 12.16, Ladies Drink Free. No spoilers though! Just skinny dipping :)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: language, smut (kind of public), oral (male and female receiving), multiple orgasms. 

Word Count 2.8k

Originally posted by jensen-jay

A three star hotel. For you, Sam, and Dean; this was what dreams were made of. You even had your own room. For the first time in, well, ever you didn’t have to bunk with the Winchesters. You may not have been so sure of this Mick Davies character, but you didn’t mind him picking up the hotel bill. Not one bit.

You stretched your arms above your head and stretched your legs out in the soft comfy bed. You rolled over to the cold side of the bed for a moment, just to take in the softness of the pillows and the silkiness of the sheets and blankets before you heard a quiet knock at the door.

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lucky--black--cat  asked:

16+klance please

16 - “It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

It’s late when Keith hears a gentle tapping at his door. It’s so soft that it could easily be mistaken for just the castle resting, but in the silence of space, every sound is more significant. 

“Yeah?” Keith nervously answers. There’s a pause, then someone clears their throat. 

“It’s me.” lance answers. Keith feels his brows wrinkle in confusion, but he hops up to open his door. It swipes to the side to reveal Lance. Shirtless, in blue trunks and a towel around his neck. He shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot.

“Hey man, uh… I know it’s late, but I think I’ve figured out this pool situation if you wanted to…” He rubs behind his neck. 

“Sorry, it’s really late. Everyone else is asleep so I get it if…”

“It’s fine.” Keith shyly laughs and shakes his head. “It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Lance grins. Keith steps back into his room and pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion. Lance tries very hard to focus on the back wall and floor. He fails. 

Keith steps out out of his pants and grabs his towel before making his way back to the door.

“Whoa, no trunks? Just your undies?” Lance guffaws.

“They cover the same amount of skin.”

“No these are…” Lance watches Keith walk in front of him. “…tighter.” He swallows. Keith looks back over his shoulder and smirks. Lance gasps. He jogs ahead to fall in step next to his friend. 

“So scandalous!” He cries and melodramatically covers his mouth with his hand. Keith chuckles. 

They walk through the cool halls, and up several flights of stairs (they avoid the elevator now) until they reach the great room with the pool. Keith looks up at the water that miraculously ripples against the ceiling. 

Lance starts to scoot around the outside of the room. He looks at a panel with several witches and begins to press them with no particular methodology. lights flicker on and off, and it sounds like a fan starts.

“Allure said there should be….” Lance flicks a switch, and immediately their feet float off the ground. At first it’s slow, until he and Keith find themselves gaining speed.

“What did you…?!” Keith shrieks.

“I rerouted the gravity! Allure said that’s how you were supposed to…!” But Lance falls into the water before he can answer. He breaks the surface, gasping and disoriented as he looks up at what used to be the floor. Keith ungracefully splutters and gasps next to him. His dark hair completely covers his eyes and he looks half drowned. Lance dissolves into a fit of giggles. He takes his two index fingers and gently parts Keith’s fringe to find his face.

“You’re a mess,” He laughs.

“I wasn’t prepared!” Keith coughs. He brushes his hair out of his face. When Lance doesn’t stop laughing, he reaches out in an attempt to dunk him.

Lance shrieks and kicks off of him with a surprisingly powerful motion. It leaves Keith slightly winded, but he stays focused on how his friend glides gracefully through the water. His legs carry him with speed and fluidity. Keith gawks. 

“You swim a lot?” He asks.

“Oh yeah.” Lance laughs. He dives under the water and rotates his body as he propels himself back towards Keith. When he pops up in front of him, Lance spits a stream of water into his face.

“AUGH!” Keith lashes out. He manages to at least touch Lance’s arm this time, but in the water his skin is smooth and slippery. He curls around Keith’s body like a snake, before he pulls him under.

Lance holds tight and is surprised when Keith doesn’t immediately kick and claw at him. His arms grip to Lance’s slim waist, and he lets himself be turned about in the water. His dark hair swirls around his face, and Lance would swear that it’s the prettiest Keith has ever looked. He presses himself closer and hangs on as Lance pulls them along the bottom of the pool, there feet scraping along the rough surface. 

They gently break the surface with a sharp inhale. Keith’s hair sits nicely against his face this time. Tendrils of water move over his pale skin that looks even fairer in the blue light. His lips glisten. 

“Bet I can beat you to the other side!” Keith announces. He  beams as he dives under the water and begins to kick. Lance shakes his head and counts to five.

Even with the head start, Lance catches him easily. He grabs onto his ankle and hauls him back through the water, scooping him up into his arms and giggling when they break the surface. Keith keeps his arms wrapped around his neck and they press their foreheads together. Warm, humid air clouds between them. Keith slumps against Lance’s chest.

“I didn’t stand a chance did I?”

“Absolutely not.” Keith’s skin is irresistibly smooth under the water. Lance subconsciously begins to roam his hands over his hips and waist. 

“I think I could still beat you.”

“You’re out of your depths, mullet boy.” Lance smirks particularly wide at his own pun. 

“I’ll kiss you if you catch me again.” Keith breathes. Lance gasps, but doesn’t get much time to process before he’s sliding through his grip and kicking off again.

Lance doesn’t give him an advantage this time. With alarming speed, he’s swimming on top of Keith. Keith doesn’t hesitate to grab on to his shoulders and let himself be swept into Lance’s current. He opens his mouth to try and meet Lance’s, but his mouth just fills with water. He violently coughs when they rise to the top. Lance clicks his tongue.

“Did you try to kiss me underwater?”

“Shut up! It would’ve worked if we weren’t going so fast you… you…fish man.” Keith lightly hits his chest and it weakly splashes.

“C’mere,” Lance drags the smaller boy back to him.

His fingers tangle in dark hair and Keith immediately relaxes when their lips meet. It’s warm. The water between them makes their mouths slide even easier over one another and Keith hums. They kiss until their wet skin begins to chill and Lance feels Keith’s skin raise into goosebumps.

“Bet you can’t catch me three times.” Keith pants.

Lance laughs as Keith dives again. Despite his words, Keith has never been so willing to lose.