i walk into work with these earlier

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

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

But here’s the thing:

Yeah, fucknuts.  We always knew this.

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"What is on your screen right now?"

I received an unsolicited call earlier this morning from a gentleman named Dan. Dan worked for Microsoft Security and was calling to let me know that my computer had been downloading malicious software, and because I was such a loyal customer he would be walking me through the steps to remove the software and fix my computer.

In case you didn’t guess, Dan did not work for Microsoft, my computer was not infected, and he was not going to help me.

Our conversation began:

Dan: Are you near your computer right now?

Me: Yes, why?

Dan: I’d like to help you check it for issues.

Me: Okay, give me a minute.

At this point, I spend a couple minutes “finding” my laptop and getting it booted up. Really, it only took about 20 seconds, but Dan didn’t need to know this. Once I was at my laptop, Dan continued…

Dan: What do you see on your screen right now?

Me: What was that? (I wanted to make sure I heard his question correctly)

Dan: What do you see on your screen right now?

Me: Well, I see my desktop…

At this point, Dan tried to continue with his script, but I had not told Dan everything that was on my screen, so I continued.

Me: There’s a clock in the bottom left corner, the time says 10:30AM, the date is December 3rd, 2017, there’s a WiFi signal with full bars, there’s a volume meter but I have it muted right now, there’s a battery indicator showing my laptop is 27% charged.

Dan tried in vain to interrupt me, but there were still more things to tell him.

Me: There’s an icon called My Computer, an icon called Recycle Bin, and icon called Google Chrome…

You can see where this is going - I proceeded to read off to Dan each and every icon, shortcut, folder, and file that was currently displayed on my screen. Dan never got a chance to get a word in edgewise.

Finally after about 4 or 5 minutes of meticulously letting Dan know exactly what was on my screen, he asked me a question:

Dan: Can you right click on My Computer?

Me: Sure, no problem. Do you know where that would be located?

Dan: It should be on your Desktop.

Me: I know, but I can’t find it. Do you remember what it was next to when I described everything to you.

Dan: It should be next to Recycle Bin.

Me: No, Google Chrome is next to the Recycle Bin.

After a few more minutes, Dan successfully navigated me into the Start Menu to open up a Run box.

Dan: Okay, there should be a field in the Run box. Is it empty?

Me: No, it has something written already.

Dan: What does it say?

Me: The first one says msinfo32, the second one says cmd, the third one says regedit…

After going through all the items in my Run box history (11-12), Dan let me know that he would need to call me back in a few minutes. Despite my pleas for help, Dan hung up. Apparently I wasn’t supposed to follow his directions so well?

{PART 26} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook attempts to do the impossible; keep Yoongi under control for as long as he can in his own Manor. But, after an unsuspecting escalation - everything ends in tears…and blood.

“How sobering it is, to love something that evil can corrupt”

  • || Warning: This chapter contains violence and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 25} {Part 26} {Part 27}

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Earlier today when I was at work, I just finished salah and was sitting with my back against the wall doing dhikr. A sister walked in to pray but because of the dumb rules this stupid hospital has got going, they removed spare skirts and hijabs from the prayer room for non-hijabi sisters to utilise.

Another sister in the prayer room saw this, she took off her hijab and her abayah and gave it to the non-hijabi sister to wear just so that she could perform salah. Wallahi the non-hijabi sister who was so happy by this small but great gesture, she was in tears. When she left, she gave the other sister the tightest of hugs.

This is the beauty of Islam. Not belittling one another but by giving da'wah, spreading salaam even if it’s not through speech, but through actions. The Sisterhood in Islam is so strong, as if taking away our garments would stop us from worshiping our Lord.

                                                  How to Open the Veil


The Veil is what separates our physical realm from the spirit world. By opening it, we’re able to communicate more freely with spirits. Essentially, you’ll be making a door and opening it in order to reach the spirit realm. 

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert at this, please don’t take my word as the final say. I just started practicing this technique and was taught by a close friend. Always be safe when you practice because if you’re not careful, you can get into some shit. I’m writing this post by popular demand. 


STEP 1: BE SAFE. The picture above is a little preview of the layout I used in my own dorm room. It’s hard to see, but I first drew a chalk circle and sprinkled black salt all along the edges of said circle. I also put four crystals at each end to mark it. Why do I have so much shit everywhere?? Because I don’t want anything to come through the door I created and cause problems. This circle keeps unwanted spirits out. (Granted, you don’t have to use as many things as I did. I find that a physical circle is just easier to visualize.) You can also use candles or anything else that works for you!

STEP 2: MARK THE DOOR. I used sun and moon candle holders with electric candles in them (since I live in a dorm and can’t use real candles). I set them apart from each other, like I was making, well, a door. Then I used some Super-Moon water to draw a line between the two candle holders to amplify my energy. Finally, I also sprinkled a line of black salt to stop unwanted and harmful spirits from coming through the door. 

STEP 3: RELAX. Get into the state of mind you need to be in to do witchy stuff. Meditation, grounding, singing–whatever you need to do to access your energy. 

STEP 4: STRETCH YOUR ENERGY. Whenever you feel ready, slowly pool energy into you palms. Then push it through the marked entrance where your door is going to be, imagining it as a thread, string, or cord connecting to the spirit realm. This might be difficult, especially if the veil isn’t exactly thin where you’re at. You may feel your energy bounce back, or that you’re hitting a wall. If you do, don’t worry! You can always pull back, gather your energy, and try again. 

STEP 5: CREATE A BRIDGE. You’ll know the moment when your energy connects to the spirit realm. It feels different for every person–for me, it’s almost like this tug in my gut and the feeling of a thread connecting my hands and body to something else. Once you feel that, it’s really up to you on how you want to create the bridge! For me, what works best is when I imagine myself walking across the thread of my energy towards the spirit realm. As I walk, my energy begins to create the bridge. There might be another door on the other side once you cross the bridge (it’s really up to how you visualize). If there is, open it. 

STEP 6: OPEN THE DOOR. Once you’ve made the bridge, feel and hold on to that connection. Then, imagine a door leading to the bridge through the physical boundaries you created earlier. This door can look however you like–whatever’s easiest for you to imagine! Then, use your energy to pry open the door. After that…

Congrats! You’ve successfully opened a door to the spirit realm! You should be able to feel the difference in energies. It’s kind of hard to explain how it feels–almost like this vast, empty expanse and the chattering of lots of different spirits floating around. 

When you’re done…

CLOSE THE DOOR. If you invited any spirits in to chat, say goodbye to the spirit(s) that you communicated with and ask them to leave. Make sure they leave before you close the door. If they refuse to, you might have to force them via your own energy (obviously, this is in the worst of situations. Try not to be rude if possible!). We’ve had to do this before and it’s not the most pleasant thing (haha). 

To close the door, pull your energy out from the spirit realm. Imagine that bridge you created crumbling, until you can no longer feel that connection. Once you’re out, close the door, seal it up, and do anything else that feels necessary in order to break the opening. For me, I usually make a breaking motion with my hands to signify the cut-off connection. You can chant or say an incantation if you like as well. This is important, because you definitely don’t want to leave a door open for spirit to come through willy nilly!  


                                                          Other Info

  • PLEASE BE CAREFUL!! If you’re not cautious, some bad spirits might be able to get through and that’s never fun. If possible, try this first with someone else (preferably someone who knows more of what they’re doing). If you can’t, make sure you have multiple backups, wards, and other witchy things to keep bad spirits at bay. 
  • If you want to invite a spirit to chat, it’s probably a good idea to have an offering around, just to be polite. Tarot cards, pendulums, etc. are pretty awesome tools to use if you’re not great at telepathic communication!
  • Take everything spirits say with a grain of salt. They can lie just like people. 

I hope this was helpful to those that asked! If anyone wants to add anything, feel free to. I’m by no means an expert, so if someone wants to add their expertise advise please do! If something doesn’t feel right, go with your gut–never do something you’re not comfortable with. 

Be safe, fellow spirit workers and witches!

-Llama

Suga Daddy: Part 6

Suga Daddy: Part Six

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 6.5k

Genre: smut, angst


I was going to post this later but what the hellThis is in Yoongi’s pov, there will be more in his pov but I figured this needed to be done since I had some people freaking out over the last chapter. Thank you to anyone who has supported this story, it means the world to me. Anyway, hope you enjoy! (Also if you messaged me about how to make a masterlist, I forgot your username, i’m sorry! Message me again for the link it you still want it.)

Parts: one | two | three | four | five


Yoongi got to work and walked through the double glass front doors. The secretary, Gina, spoke to him. “Oh, Mr. Min, your friend Mr. Park is in your office to see you.”

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Case Closed (Jungkook x Reader)

Admin: Candi
Request: Can i request a rough jungkook smut? Thx btw.. – anon”
Fandom: BTS
Member/reader: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut, Lawyer!AU
Warnings: Smoking, language, hair pulling, daddy kink, spitting, slapping, choking
Words: 3.6k
Authors note: O this is a treat for all you jungkook stans, hope you enjoy it and lemme know what you think. Thank you! Also I ain’t a lawyer so don’t judge my case scene lmao.

           As a child you always thought you’d end up being a vet, then during your teens you wanted to be a tattoo artist since you entered the rebellious phase at that stage. Throughout the years you never saw yourself as a lawyer but here you are, your first case was happening today and you were going against the most respected and feared lawyer in the company. His name was Jungkook and he always won every case. You wanted to kick your boss in the teeth for putting you up against Jungkook for your first ever case but you were also quite flattered knowing that your boss thought you’re good enough to go against Jungkook.

           The case has been going on for a few months, your client was a victim of identity fraud and Jungkook was defending the person who did it. If the judge had any common sense you’d easily win the case but it’s not about that, it’s about knowledge and confidence, it’s much like having a debate; the more facts you put forward the more likely you’ll win.

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Shiro: Is lance ok?
Lance: *staring blankly at his computer*
Hunk: Yeah he’s just not slept in a while.
Shiro: How come?
Hunk: he’s so hyper focused he hasn’t realised he’s been working all day, I tried talking to him earlier but he’s so zonked out nothing would work.
Keith: *walks passed only wearing a towel around his waist*
Lance: D-did I just miss something?

anonymous asked:

love square online gaming AU

“Okay, I quit. Ladybug’s mother likes me more than Ladybug does. How does that work?”

Walking back to her computer, Marinette snorted, wondering if that had anything to do with hearing her mom shout, “She’s AFK, dear,” earlier.

“Because she never has to talk to you, obviously.”

“Meouch. I assure you that your mother and I have had some lovely conversations.”

Marinette, who’d been a party to most of those conversations (which mostly consisted of her mother handing over blackmail material by the bucketload), hurried on, “Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want to hear all about my exciting trip to the bathroom, so—”

Right on queue, her channel partner said, “Wait, what kind of exciting are we talking about? Because—”

“The kind where I stubbed my toe on the cabinet,” she interrupted, choking down a laugh as she booted her character back up, “so hush.”

A rush of notifications from the livesteam chatters let her know that Chat had been ‘yowling like a horny cat’ and that they were glad she was back.

“Oh my god, you guys.”

Looks like Elle’s gonna win the prize,” Chat sang, either oblivious or uncaring of the way their supporters were slandering his name, “If there ever was a perfect couple, this one qualifies—”

“No.”

Fifteen different variations of, It’s true though! popped up on Marinette’s screen.

You two need to kiss!

“A-huh,” Marinette half-snorted and half-sighed. “If kitty-gamer over there ever wants to move his butt from New York to Paris, I’ll give it a thought.”

All her lines went dead silent, and what followed had to be the strangest silence in Marinette’s Let’s Play career.

“…What?”

Oh my god popped up in the chat window a couple of times, but other than that, no one said a peep.

What?

Chat cleared his throat.

“I, um… I am.”

One second for it to sink in, and then Marinette’s gut flipped inside-out.

“You’re… what?”

Chat cleared his throat again, and Marinette wondered how she could hear the blush. “Moving. To Paris.”

“…Oh.”

“Not! Of course! That we have to meet or anything if you don’t want to, but I’m not going to be online for like five days in like… two weeks.”

“Oh,” said Marinette, and sank her teeth into her suddenly tingling lips, face hot. “Well, h-how about that.”

‘How about that’ indeed, she thought as Chat laughed on the other side of the line. Three years of shooting down her friend’s ridiculous advances, and now, suddenly, she was faced with the idea that they might not be quite so ridiculous, and…

And, suddenly, all of her was a little warmer — and a little more eager — than she’d like to think about.

Urk.

“Aaaaaanyway,” she said in her very best Ladybug voice, “we’re burning airtime, people! Let’s move! I want this base conquered by sundown!”

“Yes’m!”

Caught (Spencer Reid x Reader)

One shot request for @damhunterofartemis! “Spencer has a girlfriend and the team doesn’t know about her until they catch him kissing her.” Un-beta’d! 
Requests are still open! :) 


“Honestly, Boy Wonder, you should come out with us tonight. You need to meet someone,” Penelope said as she was scurrying around in her heels, grabbing her purse and outfit change. She, JJ, and Emily extended the Girls Night invite out to the rest of the team.

“Garcia, I appreciate the offer but trust me, I’m fine.” Spencer said, rejecting yet another invite which was met with a pout from the blonde.

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There are many different kinds of analytical essays, but this is a guide to the most common one, most likely your essay for a literature class.

1. Actively Reading

Most analytical essays are for some sort of text, some form of literature. Whatever it may be, read it once all the way through and then again actively, meaning you engage with the poem, story, or novel you’ve been assigned. The best way to do this is to write notes in the margins, identify literary devices, recurring images, and to highlight/underline excerpts that may be useful to quote later on.

2. Formal Analysis

This is when you consider the formal elements of your text, putting aside themes and other concepts that would be considered “content.” Formal analysis has two stages:

  1. First is a close examination of the working parts of a text: the literary devices, images, use of language, etc. In the formal analysis stage, you parse out only the formal components: rhyme, meter, recurring images of flowers, etc.
  2. Second, you must decide what effect these quirks in form have for the reader. The use of literary devices always has a purpose and/or intentional effect, and you have to decide what that is. The devices may be used for an overall effect, and smaller effects may culminate in some general effect.

3. Making Your Point

This is when you form an argument/thesis based on your findings. For example: In the poem “The Lake Isle of Innisfree,” William Butler Yeats uses a variety of devices to express languor and the notion of an idyll. At this juncture, I have decided that all the literary devices culminate in this effect. After forming a thesis, it is now my job to make a case for myself and prove my thesis using evidence from the text. I will single out literary devices, describe their effect, find evidence in the text, and explain how that supports my argument:

  • Literary device #1: meter
  • Formal analysis: The anapest meter has an effect of slowing down the reader, as if they were trying to walk through honey.
  • Evidence from the text: “And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made” (This is where that highlighting earlier comes in handy!)
  • Then I should elaborate here (see my model for paragraphs) and explain how this supports your overall argument (see thesis above)

4. Structuring the Essay

The five paragraph model works well for a simple analytical paper. Of course you are not obligated to use it. If you are unfamiliar with it, it looks like this:

Introduction:

  • Hook
  • Thesis
  • Overview of points you will make

Paragraphs 2-4:

  • Transitional phrase
  • Claim
  • Supporting evidence

Conclusion:

  • Quick recap
  • Restate your argument in absolute terms

5. Quick Tips

  • Don’t forget to use proper citations!
  • You haven’t really finished until you’ve revised and edited
  • Reading it out loud or having a friend read it out loud will help you catch mistakes
  • Avoid generalizations; stick to your topic
  • Write a hook that isn’t a bland platitude but something genuinely interesting
  • For more tips, check out my masterpost “Tips for College Writing (and All Good Writing) That You May Not Get in the Classroom

Check out other posts in the Writing Tutor Series: how to write brilliant paragraphs | tips for college writing | writing a strong introduction

2

Harry Styles’ solo album might be the most anticipated debut this side of the millennium. Following years as the bullseye in the global behemoth that was One Direction, the singer is taking center stage with a self-titled effort that’s a classic cocktail of psychedelia, Britpop, and balladry. If it was a color, it would be the baby blue of Jimi Hendrix’s Fender Stratocaster or the soft pink of Mick Jagger’s suit when he performed on “Top Of The Pops” in 1971. It’s rock and it’s roll, but it’s also soft and sensitive. Produced by Jeff Bhasker (Kanye West, Fun.) it’s a record that could force the position of mainstream radio by ushering in a reprise of proper music — ensembles, verse-chorus-verse, rich instrumentation, or, basically, Adele’s bag of tricks.

Despite the red herring of lead single ‘Sign Of The Times’ (it clocks in at just under six minutes in length), the album is a short shrift 40 minutes and contains ten songs that are largely about women. Unlike Robbie Williams and Justin Timberlake before him, there’s a deepened millennial sensibility to being a leading man. Harry is a sensitive soul; A post-Drake phenomenon; A serious pop performer with enviable vocal chops and a gifted ability to convey a song’s emotional heft. He oozes class, ease and a sense of import without thrusting forth from the hips, or wreaking of a self-satisfied sense of boyband emancipation. Both respectful of his past and nervous for his future, “Harry Styles,” the album, looks both ways. - Variety

Read on for a track-by-track:

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Idiot Duros

(So to preface this whole conversation, this is set in a Star Wars style world, based on 3E DnD with changes. Long story short, it was actually made, but lost the lisence. Anyways, the Duros got trapped in our ship’s foundry, tried to blow up inert gasses, and the wreckage of the failed bomb landed on him breaking his legs. He then had to do a psychiatric evaluation, failed a fort roll, and got shellshocked from it.)

*Zabrak walks into the Duros’ room, with said Duros on the floor with a diaper halfway down his broken legs in utter pain with his hoverchair nearby*

Zabrak: “Okay what the fuck”

Duros: “I wanted to put pants on.”

Zabrak: “YOUR LEGS ARE BROKEN”

Duros: “BUT PANTS”

GM: “You notice that his diaper has also been used. Now roll a fort save Duros.”

*Duros passes*

GM: “Good, you dont shit yourself while saying that.”

Duros, OOC: Why would I

Me, also OOC: You have both your legs broken up to, and including, your pelvis, as you were told earlier. Your muscles that prevent that kinda cant work without proper bone structure.

Duros, OOC: Oh.

GM: Okay moving on

*The Zabrak walks out of his room, talks to our ship’s AI, called Pegasus, trying to get someone else to help. This prompts a Twili to appear*

Twili: “What the fuck is going on here”

GM: “The Duros is on the floor with a used diaper down around his feet now, the Zabrak looking like he has a broken spirit, and a hoverchair nearby.”

*The Twili player just shakes his head*

Twili: “Okay, let’s get him into his bed-”

Duros: “I WANT MY PANTS!”

Twili: “You can wear pants tomorrow. Now you get his legs, and Ill get his arms.”

Zabrak: “Will he shit on me?”

GM: “Lets find out. Roll a fort save.”

*Duros passes it*

GM: “No, he wont.”

*They get him in the bed and the Zabrak leaves

Duros: “This wasnt my fault you know”

GM: “Roll a deception check.”

*Duros utterly fails it*

Twili: “Yes it fucking was. Now how did you even break your legs?”

*Duros tells him the story up to the point he tried to detonate inert gasses*

Twili: “Wait, hold on. Are you even a demolition expert?

Duros: “Yes.”

*The GM just wiggles his eyebrows, and the Duros makes a deception check again - which he nat 1’s and couldn’t even pass if he got a nat 20 with his bonuses*

Twili: “No your not.”

*Duros screams about bloody murdering my character and the Twili leaves*

Bad Things

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Request(s): If you could, would you make an imagine where Y/N and Tom are working together on a project and Y/N likes to tease Haz or one of the other guys on set and Tom gets jealous (even though she likes him) and at some point he goes down on her and finishes saying something like “That’s how a guy should please you, darling” or something? Thank you! :)

Word Count: 3685 (The beginning wasn’t descriptive enough and then I made the beginning of the smut descriptive and then I stopped being horny for the end so it was pretty bad)

Song: Bad Things by Machine Gun Kelly and Camila Cabello  

Summary: You and Tom have been friends for a while and he helps you get a job on Infinity War. He normally brings friends on set so you thought nothing of Harrison, the cute blond that looks at you in a way that Tom doesn’t like.

Warning(s): (UM SO LIKE JUST A WARNING FOR THE WARNINGS: I WON’T DO MORE STUFF LIKE THIS IF NO ONE LIKES IT THIS COULD HONESTLY BE WAY BETTER I’M SORRY anyway back to your regularly scheduled programming) S M U TT, jealous!Tom, I forgot to write a condom scene so like unprotected sex (Assume that the reader is on the pill)(just remember don’t be silly cover your willy), it’s kinda just kinky like there’s “daddy” and “babygirl”, a little bit of orgasm denial, rough sex, yeah lemme just go burn my laptop now

Author’s Note: Pass me some holy water because this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. And I know that that doesn’t say much because I’ve written smut a whopping total of 2 other times but STILL I’M NOT SURE WHETHER I SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF THE SMUT OR PROUD OF HOW IT TURNED OUT BECAUSE IT COULD BE SO MUCH WORSE. But on a completely unrelated note, I start school tomorrow so I will probably be posting a lot less since my mom is crazy strict about homework and it makes a little sense but not enough to justify it BUT I will not burden you with my problems enjoy this sin-fest!

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Bon Soir [Lafayette x Reader] Part One

Description: You, an American patriot from a loyalist family, catch the eye of the Marquis De Lafayette one night at a tavern. After your first night with the enigmatic frenchman, you realize how turbulent life can really get in a time as turbulent as this. 

Warnings For This Chapter: Smut, alcohol, mild swearing, and mild Lams, where I could slip it in ;) 

Notes: So, there will be five parts to this story. It will, if we’re being honest here, be updated probably once or twice a week until it is finished. This story is a mix of Hamilton’s characters and actual historical stuff, and there will also be lots of appearances from the rev set in this fic, so brrrah, brrrah!! Enjoy. 

||Part Two||


It’s a beautiful night in the colony of New York, the moon full and the usual chill in the air slightly warmed. Besides it being a lovely night, it was also quite rowdy- but during these turbulent times, you couldn’t expect less from the Northern colonies.  

You pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders… it’s really not a night to be out for a lady, but you couldn’t care less. Your family still clings to the proverbial olive branch, one of the less popular voices of loyalist reconciliation. You’re a patriot, through and through, and any chance you have to escape your frankly shameful homestead under an anonymous family name at night to “cavort” with those who share your views on freedom, you take.

Slipping down a dark alley with the hood of your cloak pulled up, you find your way into the even rowdier Fraunces Tavern. Looking around, you smile. Men clinking their sloshing drinks together, shouts and jeers at the king tossed around liberally- this was the beginning of a revolution, and you’d be damned if you missed it.

“You lookin’ for a good time, honey?” some guy with a heavy Boston accent asks you from the table next to the door, and you turn to him.

“I’m looking for a drink, and whatever good time I can derive from that.” The guy still stares at you, waiting for a follow up, so you decide to win even more favour by voicing your views. “Fuck the king?”

The entire table bursts out in cheers and pounds their fists and mugs down repeatedly as you smirk and saunter past them. You get to the bar, and ask for a Sam Adams, before turning around and surveying. To answer the drunk man’s question, you aren’t actively seeking that sort of good time, really… but, nights like these were full of exceptions.

“Here you are, miss,” the friendly bartender nods to you, then pauses, “I’ve seen you in here a couple times now, and I don’t recall your name.” He looks genuinely confused. “Who’s your husband?”  

“I’ll let you know once I find one,” you wink, and cross the tavern to occupy a booth. Just as you’re lifting up your skirts to sit, the door crashes open, and in come four very loud young men.

“What time is it?!” one yells, and the other three yell back, “Showtime!” while cackling and slapping each other on the back.

You roll your eyes again, imagining all the fights they were sure to start tonight. The bartender seems to know them, and pours four ales for them as well. Snatching up his drink, the short one with the ponytail and goatee marches right up to the table in the middle, getting up on it and chugging half his mug.

“To the revolution!” he finally bursts out with, and almost trips off the table. The large one with the beanie catches him, shaking his head with a grin, and the second shortest one with curly hair and freckles joins the talker with a close arm around his shoulder.

“Now this is the place to be, amiright boys?!” freckles shouts, taking a long drink.

“Oui oui, mon ami,” another voice chuckles, and your interest is immediately peaked. A frenchman in the colonies? The excitement of these taverns is incomparable, and it is exciting to say the least to hear someone from so far away- you know a little of the language, or what you had learned as a girl.

You watch in quiet admiration as a tall, athletically built man with dark hair tied up in a bun and a close trimmed beard steps out, carrying two mugs of ale. He hands one to beanie man, and plops his own down on the table. “We must tell the king casse toi with our war effort!”

“We will, Laf,” beanie assures, “But first? Horses.”

“What?” freckles and goatee both say at the same time.

“Corsets,” beanie laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I meant corsets.”

“Hercules, you are an idiot,” Laf deadpans.

“I’m the most mature one here,” Hercules shoots back.

“Easy, when tes amis are Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens.”

Hercules lets out a booming laugh, and is soon joined by Laf’s own charming snicker. Alex and John are too enamoured with their own private conversation to notice much.

Your eyes train on Laf. If he was french, he must have a longer name than that… you’re determined to know it. He was undeniably a charmer- he was handsome, dashing as a prince, and very stylish. With the words he had uttered earlier, you found it safe to assume he’s as passionate about American independence as you are.

You make an excuse to walk by.

Heyyy there,” goatee (Alexander)? calls, swivelling his head to look at you.

Bingo.

Hercules lets out a low whistle as you turn to face them. “I don’t mean to be too forward, but madamn.”

"What the ever loving merde is that supposed to mean, Hercules?” Laf’s face scrunches up, and Herc just shrugs.

“Works on most of ‘em.”

“I’m Alexander Hamilton, bastard, orphan, son of a whore,” Alex jumps up, grasping your hands, and you can see the gears in his slightly drunk mind turning. “So I’d love to flirt for like, a really long time because you’re pretty and everything, but there’s a revolution to plot-”

“-And drink to!” John adds.

“-And drink to, as my beautiful lover Jackie just piped in and waaait, I’m probably not supposed to say shit like that in a tavern full of guys who will probably have me castrated for it, but hey, we die like men, right?”

“Yo, um, sorry 'bout him,” John blushes with a slight slur, coming over to guide Alex back to his seat. “He gets- *hic*- chatty when he’s tipsy.” You just laugh, letting them know it’s no big deal. John doesn’t seem very interested in you romantically or sexually, only greets with a good natured- albeit tipsy as well- smile. Hercules gets up to introduce himself.

“Hercules Mulligan. I’m Irish.” He drops his voice down to a whisper. “That’s kind of my thing.” Laf gets up to hip bump Hercules out of the way, take your hand, and press a kiss to it. You blush deeply.

“Bon soir, belle mademoiselle. I am Paul Yves Roch-”

Heeere we go,” Alex slurs.

“-Gilbert de Motier de Marquis de Lafayette,” Laf finishes with a glare to his friends, then turns back to you with a gaze that could only be described as… lust ridden?

“Plaisir,” you reply in french, and his eyes widen, his entire body straightening like an arrow in excitement.

“You speak my mother tongue, cherie?!”

“Only a little,” you confess with a timid giggle, “I’m not French, monsieur Lafayette, only acquired some words from my studies.”

“Gorgeous and intelligent,” he flirts, “A lady after my heart.”

“Handsome and bold,” you volley back, “A man after mine.”

“OHHHH SHIT!” John shouts, and Alex begins to laugh.

“GUESS WHO’S GETTING IT IN TONIGHT?!”

“Not you two,” Laf growls, and John and Alex tumble over each other watching you both. Hercules just rolls his eyes, and downs his drink.

“Care to drink with us?” Lafayette offers, outstretching his hand, and you happily accept. Hercules gets up to grab you another beer, and slides it over to you. John begins to chug his second, and you smirk, taking it as a challenge. Downing yours to the last drop, you’ve finally earned the respect of Hercules Mulligan as he bangs on the table and shakes his head.

“You are getting better and better as the night goes on,” Laf whispers, and you laugh.

“Is that the alcohol talking?”

“On the contrary, cherie, I am still on my first… though I may be thinking with something other than my mind,” he alludes, and you feel a shiver run through you.

He is very attractive.

“What brings you to the colonies?” you ask Lafayette conversationally, and he takes a sip of his ale.

“Revolution.”

“You’re here for congressional duties?” you feign ignorance, though you know how to identify a congressman- powdered wigs, brightly coloured jackets, and stuffy mannerisms. Nothing Laf possessed.

“Ah no, mademoiselle. War is imminent- that is the talk here and overseas. I will fight as one of you for your glorious country!”

“Ayyy, to our fighting frenchman!” Alex lifts his mug, and John raises his as well.

“Very brave,” you murmur, “I wish I could serve in the continental army.”

“You can still do your part at home,” Laf assures, taking your hands excitedly, “You can make gunpowder, you can sew uniforms, you can…” he suddenly hesitates, lowering his eyes, “Pray for and write letters to your husband.”

“Why does everyone in this tavern assume I have a husband?” you tease, and he looks back up.

“Forgive me. No one has, eh… courted you yet?”

“Courted me? Oh, quite a few. I have yet to accept,” you giggle, “I suppose I’m just as hard to please as the next young lady.”

“I, too, have very specific tastes,” he nods, and bites his lip, “Mais, it would be very nice to have a woman to boost my morale on the battlefield.”

“Wait… hey, what’s your name?” John laughs, “We didn’t even ask!”

“Oh,” you blush, eye contact with Lafayette broken, “Um…” You sigh. It shouldn’t be any trouble to give them your real name. “(y/n) (y/l/n).”

Everyone repeats your name, raises a glass, and drinks. Lafayette smirks at you a moment longer, then drinks as well.

As the night wears on, you start to become even closer with the group. Stories are passed around, drinking games are played, and talk that would’ve sounded like treason in many other colonies flowed freely from your mouth with the boys. As the night begins to dwindle with the candles burning down close by, hands begin to wander, skirts began to lift a few inches, and blood begins to rise.

“Raise one last glass to freedom,” John finally says, somewhat soberly, as everyone stands up, “Something they can never take away.”

“No matter what they tell you,” Herc adds, placing a hand over his heart.

“Raise a glass to the… five of us, here tonight,” Alex nods, looking to you, “Our cause is a great one.”

“King George will never stand a chance,” you finish, and everyone downs their last sip and sits back down. With that, Laf takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckle. You turn to him, and take note of how he’s staring at your lips. Danger and adrenaline course through your veins, imagining just what he could be picturing right now. Practically in his lap by now, you shift your hips a little, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“It is getting late, ma cherie,” he murmurs, obviously holding back, and begins to stand.

“It is,” you nod, moving to brush your fingers along the hem of his blue coat, and grasp your fingers firmly in his lapel. His eyes dart to meet yours, dark and warning, and his fingers find yours as he lets out a wistful sigh.

“(y/n)… I am a gentleman, and you have had too much to drink.”

“I assure you,” you grin, turning the tables and ghosting a kiss over his knuckles, “I have not.”

He spends a long time staring at you, debating mentally. You can feel him hardening in his breeches under you, but despite his uncomfortable expression and beading sweat, he doesn’t make even the slightest nudge to meet your grinding movements.

“Are you quite certain?” he finally asks, interest beginning to spark again in his eyes as he realizes that maybe you do want him like this.

“All I want is to feel your lips on my neck,” you confirm with a whisper in his ear, and he slots his large hand around your wrist, standing you up. The three others don’t even question it as Laf leads you out the back door, and the once the heavy wooden door closes, you’re both free. He immediately presses the front of you right up against the brick, pulling your hair aside and grazing his teeth over the back of your neck.

“Then, if there are no reservations on either of our parts, I will give you everything you need,” he growls, and continues his attack on your neck, showering kisses up and down. You flip around so that you can face him, and he pins you back again, opening up the neck of your dress just a little more for better access.

Lafayette’s gaze is hungry. Your excitement is known to him as he reaches under your dress, unbuttons your underclothes and realizes you’re already wet for him.

“So eager,” he groans, “Such an eager little kitten, desperate for her papa, hm?”

“Oh,” you sigh, his words sending pulses down to your core. He pulls your underclothes off, but as his long fingers are about to breach you, he pauses.

“You… have been touched or taken before, yes?”

You bite your lip, look around, and nod shyly. If word of that got out around here, you’d be off the market, as it were…. not that you particularly desired to on the market, but that was a different matter entirely. His face blossoms into a grin, and he lifts your legs up to wrap around him.

“Hold onto me, cherie, do not let go,” he murmurs, and once your arms are secure around his neck as well, he uses one hand to unbutton his breeches. You can already see the outline of his large cock, and once he has everything undone, he pulls it out.

“Monsieur, you’re so big,” you whine, and he gazes at you, licking his lips.

“We can make it fit, ma cherie,” he whispers, “Spread your legs a little wider for me… that is it, kitten… like that.”

You keen under the pet name, and he positions himself at your entrance before finally pushing in, groaning together with you as you tighten around him.

“Oui, oui, yes…” he breathes, “That is good… so good for me…” He sucks his lip between his teeth, and after a few seconds, begins to move, nudging you back against the wall with each deep thrust. He’s very large, so he has no trouble hitting that spot that drives you crazy, but he makes it even better when his fingers find your clit; Laf has a different approach than most men do, though- the select few you’d been with (if they make the effort to find it at all) rub with harsh, rough pushes… Lafayette massages you in slow circles, making you moan for him.

Leaning forward, the intensity between you increases as your foreheads meet, lips drifting close to each other and parting, almost kissing but not for minutes at a time. The teasing was getting to him, and he finally surges forward, breathing in your breath. You give his bottom lip a feisty bite, and he smiles, drawing away.

“You are a true northern belle, mademoiselle (y/n),” he mumbles, panting, “You are not like other ladies.”

“Oh, on the contrary sir,” you reply, “I simply don’t bother with the false customs. I say, fuck tradition, and fuck anybody who wishes to advise me otherwise.”

“There is a revolution on because of Americans who share your general mindset, ma chou,” he grins, and kisses you again.

As you both begin to race toward your climax, his thrusts increase, and you’re soon being pounded into the wall, legs tight around his ass and cries being muffled in his blue coat.

“Please… ah, Laf….”

“(y/n), so perfect, j’aime votre parfum…”

As he whispers your name, you hear voices, and turn to see two men walking by the alley on the road, in hats and coats. They sound southern.

“What if th…th-” you gasp, and Laf strokes your cheek.

“They will not see us, it is too dark. Besides, why would anybody pay attention to a stray kitten, begging in an alley, like you?”

“Ah,” you throb again at his dark laugh, and he shrugs.

“Also, the alleyway behind a tavern is where all the drunkards stumble out to vomit. No respectable man or woman wants to see that.”

“What an arousing image,” you scowl, and lean in for another kiss.

“You are so beautiful,” he mumbles against your lips once you part, and licks a line up your neck to just below your ear; you’re losing yourself to the pleasure. “Do you think you can come for me, ma (y/n)?” Laf rasps in your ear, stroking over your clit fondly, and you nod with a little whine, crying out his name softly as he slams in particularly hard. Circling his hips to guide you through a long orgasm, he lets out a little gasp of his own after you’ve finished. As you shake and pant his name, he sets you down carefully before quickly pulling out and taking himself in hand, jerking frantically a couple times and coming like a shot against the brick wall. Your name falls from his lips a few times like a prayer, and soon, you’re both sated and exchanging lazy tongue kisses, tasting each other’s mouths in the night air.

It’s chillier than it was earlier. You should get home before your one of your sisters or father notices you’re gone.

“When do you leave to join the ranks?” you ask, staring into his eyes. He does up his buttons precisely, patiently and one at a time.

“Very soon, I assume, cherie.”

“How very childish of me, but… what you said, about having someone to look out for you…”

“Mmm?”

“Will you…” you look down, embarrassed, and take off a ring on your pinky finger. “Remember me over a couple beers with your friends?”

His eyes light up, and he presses a long kiss to your cheek.

“When I wake up and when I fall asleep, (y/n).”

You smile a little. “Thank you for your service.”

He kisses your hand one last time. “If it takes fighting a war and, eh…” he leans in to your ear, brushing your hair back, “getting better acquainted behind a tavern to meet, it will, most certainly, have been worth it, ma chou,” he smiles back.

You dance and sigh your way home, ignorant of every redcoat who gives you a second dirty look. With men like the Marquis de Lafayette and his friends leading the troops, those bastards’ll be back home where they belong in no time.

Let me tell you about something that happened earlier today.

Our store manager had a massive stroke a few months ago, and he came back to work this week. He has to use a cane to walk because he hasn’t fully recovered, his speech is slurred a little, and he now has a service dog to help him along (if he drops something and cannot pick it up, for example), but he was super excited about being able to work again.

Anyway, I came to the store on one of my days off to get a few things, and he was outside with his service dog, because, well, even service dogs need to have potty breaks, and I stopped to chat with him. That’s when we encounter some asshole in a pick-up truck who decides to take not one, but two parking spots that is reserved for the disabled.

Store manager sees this shit and politely inform the guy he cannot park there. Guy basically laughs in my store manager’s face, calling him a r****d and saying he can’t do a thing about it.

Guy seriously doesn’t know my store manager. He’s one of those awesome managers all the employees love because he is very protective of his staff and is not the type to hesitate about putting customers back to their places. You’d think the guy insulting him would have wounded his feelings, but no. My store manager started grinning like this was Christmas come early for him.

So, my manager asks me if I could go get the truck’s license plate and to meet him at the customer service desk. I did, even if I was a customer at that time, because I could tell something awesome was about to happen, then I met the store manager at the service desk. He had the girl at the desk call for the owner of the trunk to come to customer service. Once. Twice. Three times.  Guy never shows up. I go back outside to confirm the truck is still there and, sure enough, it is.

My store manager then goes and contact the police, and they come pretty quickly. It’s a small town and it was apparently a slow day. Once again, the girl at the service desk calls for the truck owner, and he still doesn’t show up. So the store manager go into his office behind the service desk with the two policemen to file a report, and I went too because I’m considered a witness and needed to sign papers too.

So, the two policemen decide to get the truck towed for illegal parking because 1) it’s taking 2 disabled spaces, and 2) it’s been over an hour by then and still no sign of the owner. The towing truck comes pretty quickly too because, as previously mentioned, it’s a small town. Just as it leaves, lo and behold, the asshole pick-up trunk owner reappears and demands to speak to the manager because his vehicle just got towed. Starts screaming at the girl until my manager walks out of the office, with one of the two policemen in tow.

I didn’t see the guy’s face, unfortunately, because I had to finish the paperwork with the other policeman, but according to my coworker (who was the one at the desk that he was yelling at) his face went from dark red to white when he recognized my store manager as the guy he had called a r****d earlier in front of the store. I wish I had been there to see that. Serves that customer right.

In other news, I spent 2 hours in the store on my days off rather than like 15 minutes, and the store manager’s service dog is a real sweetheart and I got to play with her when we were in the office.

Avengers Preference ➣ Secret Relationship

Request: Could you do an avengers preference for having a secret relationship and how everyone finds out?? I’d love you forever! -Anonymous

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever done preferences, so I hope everyone likes them! You weren’t specific about who you wanted involved but if you’d like me to add anyone let me know! I’d love to get some more requests :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters I write about nor do I own the gif(s) below. If you would like it removed/given credit please message me & I will do just that! Also this contains cursing so be prepared for that.

Bruce Banner-

You were sitting on a table in the lab, watching Bruce and Tony work on one of their newest projects. They had been bickering about the best way to approach the enhancements all day and you couldn’t help but smirk anytime Bruce one upped the other man. You also didn’t miss the proud grins he would flash in your direction when Tony focused back on the machinery. You picked up the book you had brought with you and decided to read while the two worked, quickly getting invested in the story. You had barely heard when Tony called it quits and left the lab with a quick goodnight. A pair of hands pluck the book from your grasp and placed it next to you on the table before softly spreading your legs so Bruce could stand between them and place hands on your waist. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and you couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“And I thought he’d never leave.” You teased, brushing your nose against his which earned you a soft chuckle. The two of you had been keeping your relationship a secret for about two months, and you were both very careful to keep it going. 

Bruce reached between the two of you and removed his glasses, placing them atop your book and leaning in to place a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Neither did I.” He mumbled right before you turned your head and caught his lips with yours. His hands tightened on your waist ever so slightly as he returned your kiss, tilting his head so he was able to deepen it.

Your hands began to tangle in his hair, giving it a slight tug which earned a groan from him. You didn’t think the two of you could get any closer than you were in that moment. Feeling his tongue brush against your bottom lip you eagerly opened your mouth for him, loving the feeling of having him so close-

“Holy shit!” A voice echoed through the lab, causing the two of you to quickly break apart. Tony stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he glanced between you both. You tried your best to catch your breath, noticing Bruce doing the same as everyone waited for someone to speak. 

“Tony,” Bruce spoke up first. “I thought you went to bed.”

The man snorted at the comment, walking towards the table they were working on earlier. “Forgot my phone.” He said, picking the device up and wiggling it at you both. “Now I’m going to pretend I didn’t see any of this because quite frankly it’s too much to deal with at-” he glanced at his watch, “2 in the morning.” With that he stuffed his phone in his pocket and exited the lab for the second time.

Bucky Barnes-

Your back hit the mat with a loud smack, causing you to let out a groan in the process. It was late in the afternoon and you had been practicing with Natasha for the past hour. To your surprise you had been keeping up with her until you heard Bucky, Steve, and Sam walk into the training room. “You got distracted.” Nat commented, reaching a hand out to help you up. You gladly took it and jumped to your feet. 

“I know, I blame them.” You quipped, nodding your head towards the where the boys were now standing.

Bucky was the first to speak up, “it’s not our fault you can’t keep up with Nat.” A smirk was planted on his lips and you had to fight the urge close the space between the two of you. Before you got the chance to reply Steve brought up the idea of sparring, which everyone agreed to.

The five of you went back and forth between each other, Bucky making remarks every time you set foot on a mat with someone. You knew why he was doing it, he had to keep up appearances and he always tried to get under your skin before the two of you became more than just teammates, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. 

“Since you’ve got so much to say about her skills, you get in there with her.” Sam said after you and Steve finished. Before he got the chance to shrug it off he was being pushed in front of you by Natasha.

A slight smile graced his lips as he gave you a once over, but it quickly dropped from his face when he glanced over at the rest of the group. You both got into position and began sparring. It was clear that he was going easy on you the entire time. It wasn’t until about five minutes in that things began to get rough, you were too quick for him and he was too strong for you. The both of you were drenched in sweat as was the mat, which is why when you went to dodge the swing of his metal arm, your leg slipped in the wrong direction causing your face to meet his elbow.

The second after you made contact you hit the mat, blood instantly oozing from your mouth as you tried to understand what had happened. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You could clearly make out Bucky’s voice, blinking a few times you could also make out his face hovering about yours. “Y/N, Doll, I’m so sorry.” He grumbled, cupping your face in his hands. 

“I’m okay.” You grumbled, wiping the blood from your mouth with the back of your sleep before reaching up to touch his face. “Honestly, I’m fine.” 

Just as he was about to reply he was cut off by Steve, “huh if I didn’t know any better I’d say you two were in love.” There was a sound of thud, which you knew was Natasha hitting him. “What- ohhh.” He said, causing both you and Bucky to laugh.

Tony Stark-

Music was echoing throughout Stark Tower as you danced around the kitchen with multiple ingredients in your hands. The Avengers had left early that morning for a mission located somewhere you had already forgotten the location of, which meant you were alone in the building, with the exception of F.R.I.D.A.Y. of course. The only way you could keep yourself for worrying was to listen to music while cooking dinner, with the mission tonight involving the entire team you needed to be extra distracted.

You hadn’t even heard the door open as a very grumpy and exhausted billionaire made his way into the loft half of his building. Even in the state he was in Tony couldn’t help but smile as he watched you dance around the kitchen. “Honey, I’m home.” He announced in an over dramatic voice, causing you to drop the plate in your hands to the ground. 

“Crap, Tony.” You whispered trying your best to step over the broken glass and hissing when a sharp piece came in contact with your foot. The second he heard you express pain he was walking across the glass, his shoes crunching it as he lifted you up and walked towards the couch, sitting you down softly. “I’m fine.” You said, flashing him a smile, but he had already went to get the first aid kit. 

Once he came back he picked up your foot and placed it on the coffee table before he started patching you up. “How was the mission?” You asked, leaning on your elbows so you could be closer to him. 

“Fine.” He said with a shrug, “the rest of the team stayed to help S.H.I.E.L.D. sort things out.” He placed a band-aid over your wound before standing up and taking a seat beside you on the couch. “I just wanted to get home in time to see you.”

You had to fight the urge to smile as you curled into his side. The two of you had decided it was best to keep your relationship a secret from everyone, Tony didn’t want to drag you into the chaos and you didn’t want to be interrogated by Fury since the first thing he had said before putting you on Avengers duty was to be professional.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and he leaned back to get a better look at your face, “don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re an awful cook.” The second the words left his lips you opened your mouth to protest, but he quickly cut you off with a kiss. You melted into his lips, your hands fisting his shirt as you tried to move closer to him.

“Well excuse us.” The familiar voice of Bruce Banner came from behind the couch, causing both you and Tony to break apart. Looking behind you the entire team was staring at the two of you with smirks on their face.

Natasha Romanoff-

The reason behind all of the secrecy was simple: Natasha wanted to keep you safe. While she trusted the team with her life, she definitely didn’t trust anyone with yours. Overall she was glad the two of you got to spend time together, since Fury had decided to assign you to the Avengers base in order to give missions and keep them all in check. 

It had been two weeks since you’d seen Nat. She’d left with Clint to complete a mission that not even you were permitted to know of. You were curled up in bed, watching TV, drifting in and out of sleep in the process. You hadn’t even heard you window slide open, but you noticed the figure clad in black and immediately knew who it was.

“Oh my gosh.” You mumbled, throwing the blankets off of you and rushing over to throw your arms around her in a hug. She let out a soft hum and wrapped her own arms around you. Without giving her a chance to speak you quickly pressed your lips to hers. Natasha eagerly kissed back, tangling her hands in your hair as she began backing you up towards the bed.

The two of you fell back onto the mattress, letting out a laugh before connecting your lips together for another kiss. “I thought you were going to be gone for another week?” You mumbled after breaking the kiss.

“We got done early and I needed to see you.” She said coolly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before leaning back so she could examine your face. For the first time in her life Natasha had something that she was excited to come home to, hell, for the first time in her life she had a home. 

She connected your lips in a kiss yet again, but it was cut off by the sound of the door flying open and hitting the wall. “What the hell?” You yelled, snapping your head to the side to see both Tony and Steve bursting into the room.

“We-um..” Steve began, looking between the two of you and Tony who seemed to be at a loss for words as well.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed me that there was an intruder.” Tony pipped up after several moments of silence. 

Finally having enough of the two gawking at the two of you, Natasha growled at the two of them, “clearly it’s being handled. You can leave.” You had to stop yourself from laughing as the two quickly shut the door and hurried away from your room. “Where were we?” She asked, turning her attention back to you.

Steve Rogers-

The mission had gone bad very quickly. In the beginning the team was doing great, kicking the ass of everyone of the guys that they were targeting, that was until they pulled out the bombs. Everyone was separated in an instant, the only form of communication being the headpieces. A gasp left your lips as you took off into the woods, three men on your trail. “Y/N, are you there?” The usually calm voice of Steve Rogers seemed almost panicked as it rang in your ear.

“I’m fine!” You said quickly, pulling a knife from your boot and slinging it at one of the men behind you. You never missed a target so without surprise the blade lodged into the mans chest.. “I’ve got two behind me, but I can handle it.”

Just as you were about take out the last two men there was a soft click under your boot, causing your eyes to go wide. The second you took your next step there was an ear splitting boom and you felt yourself being flung through the air, only stopping when you made contact with a tree. All you saw was black and while you could hear the yelling coming from your ear piece you couldn’t seem to make out the words being side.

You couldn’t be sure how long you were laying there before the sound of branches being crushed and moved reached your ears. Two small hands wrapped around your body and lifted you to your feet, you could make out what you assumed to be Wanda’s voice, and tried to peel your eyes open to be sure.

Sure enough the young woman to your side was your friend and you let out a relieved sigh before taking in your surroundings. You clearly stepped on a mine. “She’s okay, I’ve got her.” Wanda said, slowly sitting you down on one of the fallen trees. The bodies of the men the team had been fighting were scattered around the snow and you fought the urge to make a joke about you had saved everyone.

“Y/N!” You glanced over and saw Steve rushing down the snowy hill, tossing his shield to the ground before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up off the ground. His hug was almost bone crushing, but you didn’t mind as you quickly hugged him back. After he released you you began to speak, but were quickly cut off by him crashing his lips against yours.

You didn’t pull away until you heard someone clear their throats and you cursed under your breath. The two of you had done very well at keeping your relationship under the radar up until this moment. “Would you like us to give you some space?” Clint asked, a smirk planted on his face.

“Shut up.” You and Steve grumbled before breaking your embrace and heading back to the quinjet.

Blizzard

Summary: You and your three-month work crush get stuck in a Target store when a blizzard hits town. Fluff ensues.

Author’s Note: To start off Marvel-ous July, here’s a winter season fanfic, even though it’s the opposite weather right now here in sunny California.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,878

Originally posted by buchanstan

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