i guess it counts as such for the fic

Makin’ Magic Happen

Porn Star!Sam x Porn Star!Reader AU—So entirely NSFW

Originally posted by itsokaysammy

Summary: You get to work with Sammy Winchester for the first time, Mr. Big Cock Super Star
Pairing: Sam/Reader
Word Count: 5.9k
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (both female and male receiving), kinda choking, hair pulling, spanking (like, only one little spank, but it’s a good one), come play. It’s filthy porn, y’all.
A/N: This is the prelude to a series I’m currently working on. So, get used to reading Sam as a porn star. And maybe—just maybe—some other spn characters as well. Guess you’ll have to wait ;)
update: some users have had trouble opening the fic on Tumblr, so here is the AO3 link if you find yourself unable to open it as well. Sorry for the inconvience!

You walk on set in your typical fashion—hair tied up in a messy bun, prescription glasses resting on the bridge of your nose, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with a grande latte with double espresso in your freshly manicured hand. Part of you dreads how long the day is going to be with shooting and scene preparation, while the other part buzzes with excitement.

“You ready for your scene today?” Penny, your agent, asks, face glowing with just as much excitement. You give her an enthusiastic smile and a quick nod. “Good,” she smiles back, hands coming up to grab at your shoulders, her deep green eyes catching yours. “Sammy’s the best in the business. I hear his cock’s insured for a million dollars.”

“That seems a bit drastic,” you murmur before finishing off your latte.

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Happier || Joe Sugg

Originally posted by luminescent-jaspar

Requests are currently [ OPEN ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1k

A/N: okay so this isnt the greatest thing in the world, but i suck at song fics and really hope that this was okay. (i guess it’s a lil sad so you have been warned!!) enjoy!!xo


There’s this one poem, or extract, you may call it, that I found on tumblr after attempting to drown myself in the anonymous world of the internet. Twitter is too wild at the moment, I have people tweeting me about you ever minute of the day, trying to get me to tell them what happened, like just because we’re not dating anymore that your privacy doesn’t matter to me anymore.

I actually deleted the app for a while, but then I missed something about the latest release of KUWTK and regretted everything. I mean, I could maybe just blacklist your name, but I guess a small part of me still wants to see those tweets, because without them, I begin to feel like this whole thing has been one horrible dream.

You know, even though you’ll never see this, because I can assure you that I’ll burn this piece of paper the moment I’m finished with this letter, my heart is beating in my chest as if I’m saying all of this to your face. I could never, I wouldn’t have the guts.

I’ve never been one to write letters, or write anything, really, but there’s really nobody else i can talk to about this. My friends, they don’t understand, they constantly reassure me that one day I’ll be just as happy as you look like you are, and I may smile, and nod along, but deep down, I know that I’ll always be happier with you.

I saw you, the other day, on my way home from work. You were laughing, and you had your arm around a girls waist. She was really pretty. Prettier than me.

I guess it’s been a month since I broke up with you, since I lied to your face and gave you a whole handful of fake reasons why we’d be better off apart. I know just how much i hurt you, I saw it on your face, and I swear I almost went back on myself. I’m a hypocrite, Joe, a hypocrite who constantly overanalyzes everything. You were getting so busy, you had so much going on that I felt like you didn’t have room in your life for me.

I spent so much time just avoiding everything to do with you, constantly reassuring myself that without me, you’d be free, you would no longer be tied down to me. I hoped you’d be happier, but when I saw you with her, your smiles wider than ours had ever been, I started to think that maybe I wanted you to be happier alone.

You’re moving on, and that’s okay, because god, you look so happy Joe, and my friends, they’re all telling me that one day I’ll be just as happy as you. I don’t think they understand how much worse that makes me feel about this whole thing.

But my darling, I’m so in love with you. In love with the way your cheeks dimple when you smile, in love with the way you clench your fists whenever you laugh especially hard. In love with your eyes, and how they sparkle under the light of the moon, in love with your hands, and how they fit oh so perfectly into mine.

I think now, I understand how much I hurt you. But back then, when I’d convinced myself that I was doing the right thing for the both of us. God was I wrong.

Everything I see reminds me of you, and I don’t think I’ve stopped crying for these past two weeks. Everything crashed down on me alln at once, but by then you had her in your arms, and you just looked so much happier.

A part of me knew that one day you’d have to fall for someone new, someone who wasn’t me. But seeing you with her, it made my whole exterior crumble.

I saw you at Darcy’s birthday party, but I didn’t let you see me. I think Louise understood, because she helped me avoid you, even though she tried to talk me into saying ‘hi’ to you; but I couldn’t.

I’ll keep smiling and hiding the truth, and I’ll continue trying to convince everyone that I’m okay, but the truth is, I’m not okay. I’m still in love with you, more in love than I ever have been.

I made a mistake, Joe, but I think it’s too late to fix it now.

One day, when she hurts you, just like I did, I’ll still be here. Right now, I’m doubting that I ever won’t be here, loving you with my heart and trying so hard not too. I feel like such a hypocrite for saying that, that ‘when she hurts you’ thing, because I probably hurt you more than anyone else ever could, but i can’t help it.

The poem, the one that I told you about at the beginning of this letter thing, it was one by Atticus, and i’m not one hundred percent sure who he is, or what he does, or where he or she came from, but it’s been the only thing keeping me from calling you up and spilling my heart out to you.

[    The funny thing about chasing the past, 

     is that most people wouldn’t know

     what to do with it

     if they caught it     ]

I guess I should be glad that you’re not miserable, that maybe I didn’t hurt you as much as I initially thought I did.

I just can’t bring myself to accept the fact that you’re not mine anymore, even though I lost you of my own accord. I’ve admitted to myself that I’m a selfish person, a selfish person who doesn’t think things through before doing them.

Joe, I’ll never be as happy as I was with you. But baby, you look happier, you really do. But when she breaks your heart, inevitably, I’ll be waiting here for you.

Maybe this’ll be the last time I say it, but I love you, Joe, with my whole heart.

I’m sorry.

Maybe Next Time (m)

[10:36 PM] Jimin: babe, i have an emergency

[10:37 PM] You: what is it??

[10:37 PM] Jimin: um, i’m really hard right now. help me out

[10:38 PM] Jimin: baby, please. i want to fuck you so hard, hear you scream for me so fucking bad

[10:39 PM] Jimin: [image0541.png]

[10:39 PM] Jimin: please? :)

Synopsis: You’re finally seeing Jimin tomorrow after months of amorous skype sex, but the night before he asks for a small favor.

Originally posted by jiminarmy

Pairing: Jimin x Reader // gaming au/long distance relationship

Genre: Smut, Humor

Word Count: 4k

Includes: skype sex, dirty talk

Trilogy: Until Next Time ↣ Maybe Next Time ↣ At Last

A/N: the last part will probably be called “finally” from how i feel abt this trilogy coming to an end HAHA. sorry this fic is really short btw qq i’ll try to bump it up for the next ^^

[11:29 PM] Jimin: is requesting a video call…

[11:30 PM] You: missed a video call from Jimin.

Three months have passed since the accidental encounter with Park Jimin, your cyber fuck buddy. You would have never guessed that a random stranger from a dumb online game would grow the slightest ounce of significance in your life; then again, perhaps you just got lucky.

[11:30 PM] Jimin: wtf are you doing, don’t you want to see my face?

[11:32 PM] You: We have thirty minutes till midnight and i want to sleep

[11:32 PM] Jimin: well i just want to see you

[11:33 PM] You: ur literally seeing me tomorrow. leave me alone omfg

It isn’t a lie that you are going to hop on a short plane ride to see him in person after viewing his face through a small screen for months. Honestly, the few months of phone sex and dirty texts lost their excitement and thrill. So, like every time before, Jimin pressed on the fact that you should see him.

And after giving the same response of “no” for a while, you finally comply and the long awaited day is less than 24 hours away.

So why the fuck is he requesting to video call as if that day is never arriving?

[11:37 PM] Jimin: please, i’m kind of horny rn :)

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Writing is Hard, Part 5: Headcanons

Summary: Dean shows the reader that there’s truth to a famous headcanon.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO

“Reading anything good?” Dean asks.

Sam’s inside the gas station, picking up some snacks instead of listening to this conversation, so your face doesn’t feel the need to flush with embarrassment. Dean already knows exactly what you’re reading.

“I guess,” you tell him. No need to feed his ego by telling him how hot the story is.

“What is it?”

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You don’t need me.

Hiatus is upon us, which means for the first few weeks, I will be going on hiatus too. The tag is teeming with fics/gifsets right now so, you know,  you don’t need me.

soft klance things

  • keith always straightens out the hems of lance’s shirts because them being folded bothers him. lance just smiles and lets keith do his thing
  • whenever keith gets into a Mood, lance’ll come and lay his head in keith’s lap and start talking, about anything, just to see if he can make keith smile. 
    • and when keith finds lance crying at night because he misses his family, he takes lance’s hand and kisses each finger. 
    • “one,” he says, counting after each kiss. “two. three.” they both count, and on ten their mouths meet and lance feels a little more calm, focused. 
  • keith gets out of the shower and his long hair is sopping wet, so he shakes it like a dog to get lance all wet. 
    • “stop! you’re the worst!” lance is yelling, but he’s also laughing.
    • his revenge is to take a towel and vigorously rub keith’s head until his hair poofs out. afterword he’ll sit, legs spread out and keith between them resting against his chest, and brush out keith’s hair. 
  • early morning jogs around the halls of the castle, talking softly to one another, voices echoing in the quiet.
  • lance finds a machine in the castle that takes sound and converts it into a holographic light display that fills a room. 
    • lucky for them, keith’s ipod was in his jacket pocket when blue abducted them. 
    • he plays soft vintage melodies from the beginning of the millennium while he and lance slow dance. lance’s arms are looped around keith’s neck, keith’s head resting on lance’s shoulders. soft blue lights like waves fill the room and pass through them.
    • “does this count as a bonding moment?” keith asks slyly, still not letting that go. 
    • lance grins and kisses him. long, and deep as a well, savoring it, savoring keith.. “Hm…I guess so. I’m cradling you in my arms, aren’t I?”

He thinks about Kit, some kind of warped, ruined saint with all her broken morals and shades of grey, surrounded by all of her foolish righteous holier-than-thou comrades, whiter than white, and he swallows heavily, because finally he understands what she meant. He doesn’t understand you like I do though, does he? he thinks, but she turns her back before he gets the chance to say it out loud.



Summary: When Meg possesses Sam, she lets a couple of his secrets out.

Warnings: Wincest, dirty talk (I guess?)

Word Count: 1800

A/N: I love me some desperate first time Wincest. Enjoy! XOXO

Sam’s still in the bathroom.

It’s become Sam’s habit to stay in the bathroom until he thinks Dean’s fallen asleep. Or to stay out, needing to grab some food or something. Or to just not say anything at all, just disappear from the room and come sneaking in once the lights are off.

Anything to keep from talking about it.

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In the Arms of Justice Pt. 16 (Cop!Bucky Drabble Series)

Characters: reader x Detective Barnes, Natasha, Rumlow. 

Summary: Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Warnings: Some anxiety, also blood, murder, weapon and death mentions (none of it graphic), violence against women, gritty police drama tv show kind of feel.

Word Count: 1054

Tags at the bottom 

A/N: I’M BACK, BABY. A thousand apologies that it took so long for me to find my groove and stop being afraid of this fic. heh. I finally tackled it and miraculously, I’m in love with it again! Detective Barnes is back and I’m so excited for what’s ahead. :D Part 17 will be posted Friday, May 19! 

<<<Part 15  Part 16   Part 17>>>  

In the Arms of Justice Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist


Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel


Entering her office once again, Natasha stepped forward.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Kopecky. His aunt and uncle immigrated from the Czech Republic and he would like to keep them here legally.”

The man was facing away from you, reading the degrees and certificates adorning the esteemed lawyer’s office wall.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kope…”

As he turned your way, you lost all power of speech, ice freezing in your veins. 


You remained frozen in place, eyes transfixed on the man who held a knife at your throat two nights ago and now haunted your dreams. Although, if you had passed him on the street you might not have recognized him. Instead of the bleach-blond hair and a clean shaven face, he now wore a knitted cap over a bald head with a few days’ stubble dotting his chin. Horn-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose and he wore khaki trousers with a long-sleeved black sweater and dress shoes. If it weren’t for the cold eyes fixed on yours and the scar on his left cheek, you could have sworn it wasn’t the same man.

Light bruising was visible under his eyes, you noticed as he took a few steps forward. His nose might not have been broken by your head striking it, but you definitely left your mark. Seeing him approach from across the room, you finally thawed enough to stumble to Natasha’s side.

“H-how did he get in here?” you whispered to her, your eyes never leaving his face.

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French Girls | Shawn Mendes Imagine

A/U: I guess this is what I call a fucking blurb. HAAH OKAY . Also shout out to @nobravery for helping me with all this French!! 

Word Count: 2,918

Songs:   From Gold - Nova Amor (Shawn’s) & La vie en rose - Édith Piaf (Her’s) 

“Your music taste is so… nice.” I said as I crossed my legs on Shawn’s bed.

It was late in the evening and it was dark already outside. Shawn’s window was cracked open and I could hear crickets between song changes.

“You don’t sound confident in that statement,” Shawn said smiling as he stood up from this dresser that had his average sound system on top.

I smiled nervously. “No, no. I do mean it, it just that it’s a little different from mine, but I still really like it.”

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Leather Jacket and motorcycle

Summary: You get stuck in the rain and get rescued by your knight in shining armor… riding a motorcycle. (BuckyxReader)

A/N: I’M BACK. Sorry for being gone so long but I am back and I already have another thingy waiting for you after this one! I wanna thank my princess @bucky–b4rnes for proofreading this ♡ 

Warnings: Swear words? I guess? It’s basically just fluff.

Word count: 2209

Originally posted by gliceria

You ran down the stairs of the subway station, hoping you would be able to be home in your bed before the sun came up, only to find a man wearing the uniform of the New York subways standing in front of the gates.

« Sorry ma’am, ‘line’s closed. »
« What do you mean ‘the line’s closed’, what happened? »
« A cow fell on the rails. »
« A cow? »
« Yes. »
« You’re joking. »
« Do I look like I’m joking ma’am? »

You were about to rip the man’s eyes out but opted for the less illegal solution and walked away, cursing under your breath as you climbed up the stairs. The cold was teeth-chattering, and you quickly started shaking, putting your arms around your chest in a desperate attempt to block the chilliness. Of course you had to forget to take your coat. You felt the sting of a droplet of water hit your face and you silently prayed it was just a woman watering her plants a few floors above you. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and you soon found yourself soaked to the skin, running as fast as you can,  in the hope to find some place to hide from the rain, somewhere where you could stay dry, or at least dry up. During your frantic race in the search for a shelter, you quickly found yourself slipping and falling straight on your butt, not forgetting to break a heel in the process. You looked down at your broken shoes in disgust.

« Of course the one time I decide to wear heels… I hate you, you fucki- »
« What are you doing down there? » A man with a deep voice chuckled. You looked up at him. Glaring daggers at him truly.
« Looking for my dignity apparently. » You muttered while taking your shoes off, and the man laughed.
« You’re gonna walk bare foot? » He snickered, taking your hand in his in order to help you up. You could have refused his help, you should have; but you didn’t.
« Yes I’m going to walk bare foot, I need to go home. »
« And you can’t take a cab? » He asked, sounding genuinely worried, still not letting go of your hand.
« I don’t have my wallet. » You sighed in defeat and he joined you. He let go of your hand and you suddenly you felt cold again, but it wasn’t for long as you saw him take off his jacket and put it over your shoulders.
« Now you’re gonna be cold. » You stated, clearly unimpressed, and he chuckled again, shaking his head slightly, a cocky smile playing on his lips. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to punch his teeth in, or kiss him.
« I’ve got a bike, » he stated « it’s resting a few streets down the road. I can take you home… If you’re ok with that. » For an instant, you saw the shadow of shyness on his face, but he replaced it with a smirk so fast you started to doubt yourself. « I mean, you don’t really have much of a choice anyway. »
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance, forgetting the fact that the only thing keeping you from getting even more soaked was the jacket he kindly offered you.
« You’re an awfully cocky guy. »
He shook his head again, and of course you knew it wasn’t the only truth, he had something different, he was different, you knew that behind the smirk, the perfect teeth and smug look, he was the kind of guy who would lend his - really cool and probably really expensive - leather jacket to a complete stranger, not only because you had just experienced it, but because there was just something special escaping him, a certain warmth radiating from his body.
He decided to ignore your sassy remark and threw you a blinding smile.
« Where d’you live doll? »
« Brooklyn. »
He nodded quietly and started walking toward his bike.
« I never said a was coming with you. » You yelled at his back as you refused to follow him.
« Don’t be a pain in the ass, just come. » He yelled, walking back to you, lowering his voice as he came closer and closer. You shivered, finally realizing you had been standing bare foot under the rain for long minutes now. He couldn’t help but notice your shuddering, and without a second thought, he grabbed your knees in his left hand, and snaked the other one under your back, lifting you off the floor in a swift motion.
« What the fuck?! » You squealed as you gripped his neck in surprise, digging your fingers in the skin of his neck.
« I’m Bucky Barnes by the way. »
« I know who you are, but being an avenger doesn’t allow you to carry people around like that! » You tried to sounds angry, but you sounded more shocked than actually pissed, which, of course, made Bucky laugh.
« Put me down. » You whined.
« You’re gonna get a cold doll. » You scoffed but didn’t answer, you slowly relaxed into his arm, and quickly, exhaustion got to you and you found yourself falling asleep on his shoulder. You woke up to the sound of Bucky’s voice.
« Hey darling, wake up. »
You slowly opened your eyes and your gaze met Bucky’s, he had a gentle smile plastered on his lips, his eyes were digging into yours and you felt your breathe hitch in your throat at the sight.
He set you down on the bike, holding your waist with one hand and the handlebar with another, making sure neither you, or the bike were going to fall over. Slowly, he let go of your waist and bent down, untying his shoes and taking of his socks.
« The fuck? » You said. He didn’t answer and just shushed you as he took your freezing cold foot in his gloved left hand, slipping the sock on your foot gently.
« I’m gonna ask again, what the fuck? »
He chuckled but didn’t stop.
« Your feet are already freezing, if you’re not at least wearing socks, you won’t be able to feel your extremities by the time we reach Brooklyn. It’s a weird and awkward solution but it’s a solution. If you’ve got a better one, please, by all means, speak up. » He retorted and you snorted, but stayed quiet, unable to hold back a smile. He handed you a helmet and helped you put it on. His hand softly brushed your cheek as he slip the helmet on your head and you wondered for a second if it was intentional, silently hoping it was.
He sent you a proud smirk and tapped the helmet with his palm.

« Aw! »
« All set doll. » He grinned smugly. You were about to retort something clever but worry started taking over your mind.
« You’re not wearing a helmet. » You stated, concern lacing your voice.
« Darling, I’m Bucky Barnes, I don’t need a Helmet. »
You scoffed. « Fuck you’re arrogant. » He just winked and hopped on the bike, patting the seat behind him, so you sat down, wiggling on your spot to find a comfortable position.
Bucky turned to look at you, a tender smile playing on his lips. « Hang on tight. » So you did, you grabbed his t-shirt, holding onto it for dear life, nuzzling your face in his broad shoulders.
« Alright, let’s go. » He whispered, before pressing the accelerator, the engine roared as the wheels started burning the asphalt. You squealed as speed hit you, and you gripped his shirt a little tighter, your knuckles slowly turning white with the pressure.
« Problem? » You heard him snicker.
« No. » You muttered, clenching your arms around his torso. He chuckled and sped up.
The ride went by quietly. Manhattan to Brooklyn was a fairly long ride and you were exhausted. Bucky’s back was warm and comfortable and you soon found yourself dazing off, taking in the sight of New York spread in front of you, the quietness of the streets disrupted by the loud humming of the bike. You couldn’t notice Bucky’s quick glances at you every time he would stop at a red light, or the radiant smile he was repressing, and you didn’t even realize when he put his hand over yours, making sure you were still hanging on tightly. If you had been wide awake, you would have noticed the way Bucky’s heart sped up each time you moved, even imperceptibly, or how he would shiver every time your grasp wouldn’t loosen, just slightly. You straightened up when you passed the Brooklyn Bridge and Bucky turned to look at you, concerned. His breathe hitched in his throat when he saw your face. You were focused on the stars playing in the sky, and the way the lights of the bridge reflected on the water of the East. You were taken aback by the sight but Bucky was dumbfounded by something else. You were glowing. His heart skipped a beat and he turned around, desperately trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He wasn’t used to this, he had always been the ladies man, and now he was wrapped around your fingers. Just in an instant.
You felt the engine slow and the humming of the bike die down. Bucky turned the wheel and slowly parked on the sidewalk. You looked at him, too stunned to speak and he just smiled fondly at you.
« Something wrong? » You inquired, sounding more worried than you had hoped for. You weren’t worried about the bike giving up, you were worried about Bucky, maybe he was too cold, or maybe you had done something wrong. You hoped you didn’t. He silently took your hand and helped you off of the bike.
« You seemed to enjoy the view, so I thought you’d like to have a closer look. » He grinned proudly.
You took off your helmet and rubbed your eyes, trying to fight off sleep. You smiled sleepily at Bucky and he answered with a blissful chuckle.
The sidewalk was wet and and you shivered as your feet hit the cold concrete. Bucky’s socks were thick and warm, but not enough to shield you from the rain. You started shaking and before you knew it, Bucky had you off the floor and wrapped in his warm embrace. You didn’t squeal this time and you let yourself be carried. You relaxed in his arms, melting in the embrace of his cologne and the heat of his skin. You exhaled in his neck and this time, he was the one to shiver. You closed your eyes for a split second and you missed the ecstatic smile that took over his face. When you opened your eyes, you were next to the balustrade; the view was breathtaking. The glimmer of the water, the faint light of the moon, covered by the darkness of the clouds, the city shining in the distance, you let yourself be overwhelmed by the smell of the rain, the scent of the wet concrete and the running water of the river. You felt like time had stopped all together and the sound of the streets were muffled in your ears as you lost yourself in the moment. You closed your arms against Bucky’s neck and you felt his smile in your hair.
« We should go » he breathed, « you’re shivering. »
You laughed and rubbed your eyes in exhaustion. « Yeah, I am. »

It wasn’t long before you were in front of your building, Bucky had speed up the pace and now it was time to say goodbye.
You got off the bike and hurriedly thanked him as the coldness of the pavement started biting your feet, you ran toward the door but heard him call you before you could open it.
« Hey! I didn’t catch your name! »
You turned around and smirked proudly « It’s Y/N. »
« Well Y/N, I’m glad I bumped into you. »


The next day you decided to go back to the Brooklyn bridge, hoping to bump into Bucky, again. So you got up quite early and took a long, relaxing shower before heading out, not forgetting to take his jacket with you… actually, putting it on you.
The moment you stepped foot out of your building, you were met with an all smile Bucky.

« Are you stalking me Barnes? » You sassed. He blushed but covered it with a genuine laugh.
« I thought you’d be tired today, so I brought you coffee. » He handed you a warm cup of what seemed to be very dark coffee and you couldn’t help but smile at the attention.
« Besides, you still had my jacket… »
« Oh so that’s why you’re here! » You exclaimed.
« Well, I mean… » He blushed again and you chuckled in response. You saw the two helmets on his bike and tilted your head in confusion.
« I thought, maybe, we could ride around New York… again. » He smirked.
« I’d like that a lot. » You went ahead of him and put the helmet on, patting the seat in front of you, urging him to hurry, sit, and take the wheel. Bucky sat down and you hopped on the bike behind him, making sure your grip was tight around his torso, as you now knew what kind of crazy driver he was.
« So, you want your jacket back? »
« Nah » he said, » it looks better on you. »

Tag list: @whotheeffisbucky @crying-over-supersoldiers @melsmarvel @marvel-fanfiction

Forever Loyal

(gif belongs to charlie-bradcherry)

Title: Forever Loyal

Characters: Lucifer x Reader, Crowley

Word Count: 858

Warnings: death of a character, there are no spoilers because I made my own ending to last night’s episode, small amount of fluff. *The gif I guess could be counted as a spoiler?*

A/N: I said I was going to do it, so I did it. You all get some special treatment today!! Enjoy this extra fic! I hope you all enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much!! <3

Crowley smirked at Lucifer as the fallen archangel fell to his knees.  Lucifer withered in pain and all Crowley could do was chuckle.  He had big plans to torture Lucifer.  Crowley wasn’t going to spare Lucifer, not one bit.

“Do you remember [Y/N],” Crowley asked Lucifer, his tone snarky.  “She’s your soul mate isn’t she?  Pretty little thing she is.”

“Keep your hands off of her Crowley,” Lucifer seethed as he clutched his stomach.

“It’s more like she can’t keep her hands off of me,” Crowley mused, his eyes traveling to the door of the thrown room.  His smirk grew as you opened the door to the throne room.  “Oh look who’s here.”

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Sick Day

Originally posted by m-pott

Tom Holland x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: After finding out your boyfriend is sick, you come to his rescue with a shit ton of snuggles and medicine.

Word Count: 1,310

Warnings: Language, fluff, sick!Tom, phobia of being sick (?), needy!Tom, snuggles beyond this world (lemme tell ya, GEEZ.)

A/N: Guess who’s back, m'friends! I apologize for my sudden “disappearance” lol. School and personal stuff has been really weighing me down. I won’t share the juicy details. For the anon that requested this, I hope I did it justice. :// As always, feedback is appreciated. Enjoy reading!

Waking up on a bright, sunny Saturday, you jump out of bed with a giddiness in your bones.

Maybe it was because of the weekend… or possibly the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream you have saved for your binge day today.

Either way, you were bubbling with so much happiness that it started to alarm you. Especially since you weren’t one to really express emotions all the time. 

However, that was put to a halt when you got a text from your boyfriend, Tom.

Tom: To Y/N

Baaaabe, I think I’m sick.

Oh, c'mon!

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Bucky x Reader

Summary: The risk I took was calculated but man, am I bad at math.

Warnings: angst…like to the max, character death, risking your life, all that fun stuff

Word Count: 1.3k (this is deadass the shortest thing i’ve ever written and it’s still over 1k lmao why am i like this)

Author’s Note: hi hello! guess who’s back and as angsty as ever! this is something that again was floating in my inspo tag and i can’t find the post rn but it is there so when it’s not midnight i’ll go digging through and tag it. ya’ll probably recognize the quote because it’s been through tumblr i don’t even know how many times? but i literally banged this out in like two hours so ??? idk???? anyways, feedback is always welcome (please do i love hearing what all of you have to say) and can i just say thank you so much for all of your lovely responses to Will You Stay? like, they were so beautiful they made my entire life like????? i love all of you so fucking much ???? i can’t even describe it????? anyways enough of my endless question marks, hope you enjoy!!!!

Originally posted by sxy-seabass

The first time, isn’t the last time.

The first time you risk your life it’s for a puppy. Small, golden, scrappy little thing. It’s caught in the middle of the road, yelping every time a car whips by. It’s flat on the ground, trying to make itself small as possible but at the same time sticking out against the pitch black tar. You sigh and drop your coffee into the trash before you run out in the middle of traffic and scoop the dog up before crossing to the other side.

“You’re an idiot,” he grumbles as he stares at the trembling mass of fur. You pout and say you’re sorry before you offer him the reason you nearly got flattened by an eighteen wheeler. He pretends to be angry until about five minutes later when the puppy is licking at his face.

He isn’t angry anymore, especially two weeks later when the puppy has become a permanent fixture in your home.

The second time, isn’t the last time.

The second time you risk your life is on vacation in the Bahamas. A little girl gets caught in the rip tide. Her arms flail as she cries for help but is drowned by the waves. Everyone watches but no one acts. You glance at the life guards who glance at the waves apprehensively before you roll your eyes and dive in. It takes you a while but luckily you’re a strong swimmer and within minutes she’s in your arms and safely on shore.

“You’re crazy,” he mutters as he rubs your back while you cough up salt water but his eyes shine with an emotion more powerful than you have ever seen. It only seems to grow when the little girl runs up to you and hugs you, thanking you for saving her life.

The third time, isn’t the last time.

The third time you risk your life is on a mission in Johannesburg. HYDRA had hit a biotech company and managed to steal information to a bomb that could level a small country. They climb into a helicopter and are about to get away and against Steve’s orders you jump and hang onto the runner of the helicopter. You hang on for dear life until you touch down. Your arms ache but you fight until you can’t feel anything anymore. But you have the files.

It takes them two days to find you. When they do they find you collapsed in an alleyway, dehydrated and living off of scraps from the nearby flea market.

“You’re so stupid,” he shakes his head. He’s angry but he holds your head up as you drink and brushes your hair until you fall asleep on his chest.

The fourth time, isn’t the last time.

The fourth time you risk your life is in the middle of a blizzard. It’s two in the morning and the wind is howling but when your phone rings you answer within seconds. The line is silent except for the sound of heavy breathing. He doesn’t say anything but you already know as you tie on boots and don your heaviest coat.

It takes you an hour to get to him. But you do. You’re pretty sure your car isn’t even parked properly and you’re not sure if you’re on the road or on the sidewalk but it doesn’t matter. By the time you get to him he’s already half way gone. You sit with him until he comes back to you. You sit with him until his eyes are clear and his breathing is normal. You sit with him until he’s yours again.

“You’re a moron,” he growls once his eyes look outside at the storm raging. You wonder if it was worth it but you smile anyway because you don’t care.

The fifth time, isn’t the last time.

The fifth time you risk your life it’s after two months of being locked in a basement. You have bruises on top of bruises, you bleed from different places every day and you can’t remember the last time you’ve had a proper meal. They pull you out every day and tie you to a chair. They spit in your face, they hit, they bite, they scratch, they punch, they shock, they twist, they break. You beg, you scream, you cry. But you don’t give them what they want. They want him but you can’t give them that. He’s everything to you and meaningless to them.

One day you’re bleeding so bad everything is tainted red and you can’t feel part of your face and can’t hear out of one ear. When you feel hands on you, you immediately start to tense and fight but relax when you hear his voice.

“It’s just me, it’s just me идиот,” he soothes you softly as his metal hand trembles while breaking your bonds. You fall into him and can’t find it in you to cry or make a sound. And you wonder if maybe this time, maybe this time it was worth it.

The first time, is your last time.

You risk your life for him and you don’t even think. You see him in danger, you see everyone in danger. But when you see him, when you hear the metal whir breaking through the clamor around you, you don’t think. You hear nothing else. You look at the five midnight black barrels of the machine guns facing him, glinting harshly and you just go. You think you can make it. If you just take that extra step, lose that extra second, you can make it. You two can make it out, together.

But you were always bad at math.

For the second you push him down you know you miscalculated. You don’t hear the shots but you feel them, ripping and tearing through flesh and bone. You feel the blood seep into the concrete floor. But you don’t hear the strangled sob from behind you and you don’t hear the hoarse shot. You don’t hear the bodies drop around you; you don’t hear the knife splitting through Kevlar and skin.

Yet you feel his hands on your face, your chest, your stomach. You feel him fumbling for a solution. He’s whispering fast in Russian, his skin flushed a shade of pink you’ve never seen before. It’s beautiful, really.

“You…you, you stupid, crazy, idiotic, moron,” he shouts with tears in his eyes. His bottom lip trembles and you reach to soothe it. Blood smears against the soft bristles that surround his mouth but neither of you really notice. “How could you do this? How…why, why would you ever you–”

“You’re alive,” your voice is hoarse and choked and filling with something you’re not sure of. It doesn’t even sound like you but he looks at you as if you were the only thing he heard. You think he says something else but the look on his face means he understands exactly what you’re saying.

He’s breathing heavy now. You can feel it in gentle puffs against your face. He’s shaking his head as he stares at you. He keeps shaking his head until his hair forms a dark curtain around his shimmering eyes. “No,” he whispers. “Not without you, not…please–”

You shake your head in response. “You’re alive,” you whisper as darkness begins to creep into your vision. “You’re alive.”

The weight of what you’re saying seems to settle onto his skin and into his bones because he’s looking at you with disbelief and wonder and fear and an ancient sadness that you feel deep in your chest. He presses his lips to your face and a wetness leaks onto your skin and seems to slide right off. “Not without you. я люблю тебя. Not without you.”

You clutch his hand and feel the black begin to spot his face, turning him gray. “You’re alive,” you say finally before your head drops into his metal palm.

Your first time, is your last time.

But God is it worth it.




я люблю тебя

I love you

Shorties & Dorks

Originally posted by kissabledeanw

Request: Hey, love your writing! I was wondering if a could request a fic where Dean and the reader are that dorky but adorable couple. Like they sing (not very well) in the car together, tell bad jokes, watch movies in sweatpants see who can make a better Mohawk with their hair when in the shower lmao idk, you get the idea. And then at the end he proposes to her? I’m getting bored of fics with stereotypical characters and relationships :P Thanks so much!

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever written…

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anonymous asked:

31, 37, or 60 for nalu? (From the new Drabble prompt)❤️

31: “You may be an idiot, but you’re my idiot.”
37: “I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed.”
60: “You are my sunshine.”

I couldn’t pick one so I picked all of them. :’)
               (prompt from here

They are eating takeout on their couch the day everything changes. He’s got his feet propped up on the table, shoveling bites of chow mein so quickly that she gives up trying to count. Lucy flicks a piece of her chicken at him, garnering a smirk when he catches it in his mouth without missing a beat. It’s nothing unusual, most weekends are spent watching crappy movies and hanging out in her apartment, pretending that they don’t have a bunch of tests the following week. 

Or at least, that’s what she thinks till Natsu sets his unfinished fortune cookie aside and drops his feet onto the floor, bending one leg underneath himself to watch her. She chokes on her chicken, pounding her chest to dislodge the food as her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but he doesn’t flinch. Which is good because she had once seen him choke on a chip and had to punch his back for a good five minutes so he can hardly lecture her on things like manners. But she’s still blushing because his eyes are a dark green now, far more so than they have ever been, and he’s watching her far more closely than usual. 

She sets her food aside as well, fixing him with a look. “What? Do I have something on my face?” With a napkin, she brushes off her face, trying to feel for crumbs or smeared sauce, but it comes back blank save for the remnants of her lip gloss. She stares blankly at him, waiting, and he doesn’t fail to lean in close, their noses nearly brushing, and she tries not to go cross-eyed or let her breath falter with minimal success. 

“Lucy, you’re a weirdo.” She sighs, leaning back and lightly flicking his nose. Natsu scrunches his face at her before a grin settles on his face and he continues without complaint, “But you’re my weirdo.” His words end on a soft note, one that is as uncharacteristic as it is serious. 

She stares at him with an open mouth, trying to decipher the meaning, because he doesn’t say things out of the blue. Not ones whose meanings could be something entirely different. She knows where they stand usually, there’s a line in the sand that she drew a while back when his lips became fascinating and his touches drew shivers and she vowed never to cross it for fear of what would change. 

He was Natsu. She was Lucy. There wasn’t a them in that sense. 

“You’re weirdo,” she affirms because she’s pretty sure he means his weirdo, his friend and not his weirdo, his Lucy. He doesn’t need to know how she feels, she can’t stand the thought of earnest, honest Natsu having to let her down.

She expects him to nod and continue with his food, the same thing he always does when questions about their friendship surface. She blames some of their friends for planting that doubt in his head with their jokes. 

But he doesn’t. He huffs instead, sitting cross-legged on her pink sofa. “No, I mean.” Natsu wrinkles his nose, fighting for words and she tilts her head, brushing hair behind her ear in a movement that he follows with his darkening eyes. 

“What do you mean then?” She asks softly, hardly daring to breath. Hardly daring to hope. 

“You know how Gray disappears with Juvia for a few days to visit family and then they came back all lovey-dovey with that stupid grin on their face? She practically had an umbrella saying ‘engaged’ when she came back,” he says suddenly, tapping his fingers on his knee. His head tilts back, eyes on the ceiling as though it would help him find the words and she tries not to make it obvious that she wants to kiss his throat even though it’s painfully obvious. She blinks, nodding slowly, heart stuttering at the build up. It’s unlike Natsu to beat around the bush and she holds her breath, waiting for it. “I want something like that. Just don’t tell the Stripper that, he’d be more annoying than usual.”

“Okay,” she says faintly, now frowning and a little cold. The hope is dwindling, dying by the second, and she tries not to show confusion on her face because that will lead to questions and confessions and words that can’t ever be taken back. He wants advice, she thinks, preparing herself because she wants Natsu happy, even if it’s not with her, and she knows how to mend a broken heart. She’s done it before, after all, even if this Natsu shaped one seems insurmountable. 

“Thing is, I want that with somebody and I want that somebody to be you.” 

Her head jerks up to face him, but he’s still looking at the ceiling, a tinge on his cheeks that she’s never seen before. It’s oddly endearing, she thinks, her heart stopping then threatening to beat straight out of her chest and into his hands.

Silly heart, trying to go somewhere it had always been. 

He doesn’t notice the way her face changes as he talks, from the uncertain hope to the certain heartbreak to the unabashed happiness, and he keeps going, like the words had built up and he’s finally given up on holding them back. And she wonders, for the first time, if maybe she’s been a little blind. “I tried really hard not to feel anything for you.” How rude, she thinks, lips twitching because she had done the same. “But guess what? I failed. Probably the best failure of my life, really. Except maybe that time I failed making those cupcakes and made the exploding lava cakes, because those are–”

“Natsu?” She cuts him off, leaning closer to him. 

Finally he looks at her; there’s no blush on his face, just pure relief and she figures he’s stronger than she thinks when it comes to feelings. He throws himself into the storm without hesitation, taking the consequences of them alongside the victories, and she’s definitely never been more in love with him than when he looks at her with eyes dark with love. “Yeah?”

“Shut up.” She kisses him, surprised to find that their roles have spun. She’s generally the one with words and he’s the one with actions, yet here they are, facing something different. Her hands hold his face, stroking over his jaw and his cheeks and every bit of him she can touch without disconnecting their lips. She’s got fire dancing beneath her skin with every brush of his chapped lips and his hands are squeezing her waist, trying to hold her in place. It’s sloppy, messy, and a beautiful first. The beginning of many, she knows. 

She draws back for air, heart racing worse than ever, but steadying and when he shifts back, she already misses the contact. He fixes it instantly, dragging her with him to the other end of the sofa, propping his feet up on the table once more while she sits sideways in his lap, her back supported by the arm rest and one of his hands holding hers. 

It’s not so different than usual, except that she can cuddle closer to his warmth and she drops her cheek on his shoulder, content.

“What brought this up?”

“Fortune cookie,” he replies, playing with her fingers. 

“… Fortune cookie?” He points and she reaches for a broken cookie, a thin piece of paper fluttering into their lap. She reads aloud: “’Someone is your sunshine, let them know.’ You confessed to me because a fortune cookie told you to? That’s so lame.” 

Then – he stares at her and she stares at him – both of them laugh.

fluff friday “resort” {impetus}

part of @can-t-figure-it-out and my inosaku star wars!au. this is their first meeting.

Hands scrabbling against unyielding bark, Sakura pauses as sound fills the air.


She stops, balancing easily as she concentrates on the pattern of the beats. She scowls as she deciphers the sounds.

It is a song of arrival.

Sakura knows that everyone is bound to be in the village square, greeting the newly arrived coalition. She’s heard from her parents that some politicians are coming to see them though she has no idea why. It isn’t as if Kn’ohai is a particularly interesting place. She certainly doesn’t think it is. Besides, Ami is bound to be there with her cronies and Sakura doesn’t want to be made fun of.

So she resolutely ignores the drums as she eyes the next closest branch. It is dappled orange and grey in color and more than ten feet above her. This is the farthest she has climbed up this tree and Sakura is determined to reach the top. Sakura spreads her feet, wiggling her butt as she prepares to leap.

“You’re doing that wrong!” an imperious voice proclaims.

Sakura stumbles, fingers scraping against the bark of the tree as she catches herself. She looks down, catching sight of a diminutive figure.

“What’s the big idea?” she shouts, fear making her angry. “You almost made me fall.”

“But you didn’t.”

Sakura glares, wishing the person to go away. She doesn’t want to talk. She knows how it will end. This person will make fun of her too. They always do.

“You should thank me really,” the girl says.

Sakura has had enough. With a quickness that belies her age, she moves down the tree, until she is only a couple feet above the interloper. This close, Sakura is surprised by the way the stranger looks.

She wears bright and gaudy clothes, her hair covered by a winged headdress. She wears frilly gloves, stretching up her arms. Her wide skirts trail in a train behind her and she stares up at Sakura with odd eyes of blue pupils and black sclera.

Whoever she is, she is not from Kn’ohai.

“Who are you?” Sakura asks, suspicious as she crosses her arms across her chest.

“I’m Hi—” the girl stops, coughing into a glove. “I am Ino.” She bows in a flourish. “And you are?”

“Sakura,” she replies, eyes narrowed. She doesn’t trust this stranger though she’s certainly more interesting than anyone else in the village. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same question!” Ino says, planting her hands on her hips. “I thought everyone was with the landing party.”

“Nope,” Sakura says. “I was climbing my tree.” She pats the trunk affectionately.

Your tree?” Ino asks. “You were doing it wrong.”

“I’d like to see you do better,” Sakura says, sniffing imperiously.  Ino hesitates, glancing around. “What? You scared?”

“I’m not scared!” Ino says indignantly. “Just wanted to make sure no one else is around.”

“Why?” Sakura asks.

Ino reaches up, unfastening different bits of her headdress. Sakura watches with rapt attention as Ino pulls the headdress away, even as she tries to play it off as disinterest. Sakura stifles a gasp as liquid gold pours down over Ino’s shoulders.

Ino looks up, almost self-conscious as her hair pools around her feet. Sakura’s expression seems to reassure her though.

“How do you plan to climb?” Sakura asks, peering down at her and trying to hide her worry. “Do you even have legs?”

“I have legs,” Ino says, indignant. “They’re just hidden by my skirt.”

Sakura shrugs, not aware of what a skirt is and not particularly caring. “Still seems hard to climb with all that clothing.” Sakura herself wears a simple shift and tights, allowing for full mobility.

Ino glances down at her gloves before tentatively pulling one off. She reveals iridescent purple and blue scales, making a pattern along her hands and up to her elbows. Sakura stares at the space where the scales begin to trail off into pale skin, awed.

Ino takes in Sakura’s silence as acceptance and grins, confidence restored. “Let me show you how to really climb.”

Sakura rocks back on her heels, watching expectantly.

Ino moves closer to the tree and her hair lifts off the ground and grabs the nearest branch.  It is a strange thing, watching a person climb by their hair, though not necessarily unpleasant. Sakura offers Ino her hand as she reaches her branch, which Ino accepts.

“Thanks,” Ino says, grinning as she clasps Sakura’s hand. Sakura likes the rasp of her scales against her skin. “Race you to the top?”

Sakura squeezes her hand for a moment longer before releasing it and springing upward. She looks down at Ino, drinking in her surprise with satisfaction. “You’re on.”

As the girls climb, they have no way of knowing that this is the foundation of a relationship that will span galaxies and become the catalysts for war and symbols of peace.

Of course, they have no idea of this.

Instead, they focus on the fact that, for the first time in their lives, they have found a friend who understands them; a companion who accepts them.

They reach the top at the same time.

anonymous asked:

i dunno if you write, but could you do something for a lonely isolated sort of lance? thx

i’ll try my best. hope you enjoy it.
written somewhat from personal experience.
also, elements of langst and klance, because i’m trash like that.
also also, it was written in one go without any review, so excuse any tense or grammar errors, please.

mentions of mildly suicidal thoughts(?), swearing, nightmares, anxiety/stress

word count: 1351

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What's a Boy Want?

Oh hey! It’s the sequel for ‘What’s Your Kink?’ Can you believe it?! Find the first under the tag : “what???”

Genre: angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: uh!!!! I don’t think anything! Some mentions of dubious consent to certain activities, mentions of drugs, a little self hate I guess? Mostly dan doubting that phil actually likes him, phil beats himself up a little, also cursing and a mention or two of blood, I think that’s it, but tell me if anything else!

Tags: phil is oblivious, so is dan, cumplay, mentions of being tied up and used lmao, rimming, fingering, sex obviously, the neighbors prob hear them I love exhibition, dan ditches phil, it’s their anniversary but rly it’s only been 2 months, Dan’s a cumwhore, degradation but also praise??


It’s been exactly two months since Phil and I started dating; and we haven’t had anything but vanilla sex since that first night. I don’t know what got into Phil’s head but it’s like he doesn’t want to do anything other than vanilla now that we’re dating and I don’t know what to do.

I’m ripped out of my slightly panicked thoughts by Phil’s warm breath against my ear, “Hmm. You ready, baby?” I nod, melting into his touch almost immediately, I’m falling into headspace at the simplest things lately, in my defense, Phil has a terrible habit of playing with my hair and whispering in my ear.

I press my back into his front, a little whine coming from my lips, for just a moment before he’s gone. “Hmm. Let’s get going then.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts a bit and follow Phil out of my apartment.

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