if i see a close up of his teeth before his braces one more time

Lazy

Summary: Pure porn without plot. You wake up and spend a morning with Sam and Dean.

Warnings: Smut, threesome (no Wincest), anal sex

Word Count: 2650ish

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy! XOXO

Too hot. Too bright. Everything feels heavy and suffocating, like you’re trapped or tied down. Leg muscles twitch, but you can’t move them as you force your brain to swim toward the surface, try to break your mind out of its haze.

And then you wake up.

For just a moment, you focus only on your breath. You wake up like this two or three times a week, have ever since you started hunting, and it will only take your body a few seconds to calm down.

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A very long time ago @jennthereaper and @simplyn2deep both sent me this prompt, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long, but the other day I was finally inspired to take a stab at it. I hope you enjoy!

From The Way You Said “I Love You” 

#26 Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

Please, Derek, please, I–“ Stiles chokes back the beginnings of tears and clutches harder at the sleeve of Derek’s jacket. He’s on his knees, having tripped in his scramble to get to Derek from the other side of the loft. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’ve been a coward about this whole thing, but I love you. And I know you love me too. I know you do, and I need you not to leave like this, fuck, Derek, please don’t do this.”

Derek stares down at him for a long time, heart clenched in his throat.

And then he looks up at where the other Stiles is pursing his lips in a hard frown as he watches the scene.

“It isn’t real?” Derek asks for the hundredth time since the other Stiles, the real Stiles, showed up in this apparent dreamscape.

Stiles shakes his head stiffly.

The Stiles on the floor is still pleading with him around tears, but the noises of his despair are starting to fade, as if Derek were now hearing him from a distance. Even his heartbeat, a sound that Derek has been clinging to as an anchor for what feels like forever, begins to disappear.

Derek swallows and steels himself against feeling anything more than determination to get through this newest mess.

“What now?” he asks, tone clinical and firm.

Stiles answers him in a similar tone, his expression betraying nothing about what’s going on in his own head. A far cry from the Stiles that Derek first met a couple years ago, terrified and mouthy and young. “Now you wake up.”

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Peaches and Cream (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Smut.
Word count: 2.3k

Part one: Sex Tape.

Summary: “Don’t you ever get tired?” You asked, referring to the last four times you’ve had sex today. “Nah baby, I’ll never get tired of you,” He cooed softly, taking one hand off the steering wheel and slowly trailing his fingers up the inside of your thigh.

Song: Peaches n Cream.


“Jimin,” You playfully scolded, pushing his hand away from the passengers’ seat you were sitting in, “Stop it.”

It was your last night together and you were on your way to the airport to spend the last hour with him because he soon would be touring overseas in Europe for the first time. During your road trip to Incheon Airport, Jimin struggled to keep his eyes on the road in front of him and kept glancing at your bare legs.

He let out a chuckle and reached for you again, making you sigh dramatically as you thought about how you’ve been at it all day, until a couple of hours ago when you frantically helped him pack his stuff at the last possible minute.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You asked, referring to the last four times you’ve had sex today.

“Nah baby, I’ll never get tired of you,” He cooed softly, taking one hand off the steering wheel and slowly trailing his fingers up the inside of your thigh.

“Oh and by the way,“ He began, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, not really paying attention to the road, “We didn’t make that second sex tape you promised.“

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Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀

JUNGKOOK - COLLEGE AU, TATTOOIST AU. 

The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 

PART TWO

Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

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Better With Age

Summary: Sam freaks out a little about growing older. You comfort him.

Word Count: 1900ish

Warning: standard smut, a little dirty talk

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this one! XOXO


It’s the little things.

Sam starts an intense multivitamin regimen in the mornings. He cuts back on the beer. He tries his best to start sleeping five or six hours instead of the usual four.

You get it. You aren’t twenty-one years old anymore either. Sore muscles take a couple of days longer to heal, too many beers at dinner makes you feel awful the next day, and you just simply don’t have the stamina you used to.

Sam is just trying to ward off middle-age as long as he can, despite the fact that he’s not even there yet.

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oh my god. so do you ever tweet something stupid like “a yoi vampire au where victor let yuuri bite him during the sochi banquet”, and then your entire tl gangs up on you and makes you contemplate this in vivid detail until words come out.

——

Everyone knew that Yuuri Katsuki was a vampire.

It wasn’t much of a problem, these days. Viktor had had a vampire rinkmate once, when he’d just moved up to the junior division. Ivan hadn’t been any stronger or faster, and he’d only shrugged when Viktor asked about the blood.

“It’s like – wanting ice cream,” he’d tried to explain. “It’s good if you have it, but you don’t need it, yes?”

That’s what centuries of defensive breeding did for you. Humans far outnumbered vampires, after all.

So Yuuri Katsuki was a vampire, which didn’t mean as much as “Yuuri Katsuki has level 4 spins but can’t land a quad Salchow,” and Viktor wouldn’t have thought any more about it except that Yuuri Katsuki placed sixth at the Grand Prix Final in Sochi and got very drunk at the banquet, after.

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4

Isaac Lahey x Werewolf!Reader

Requested by @lildoog-ish​ ♥

Warnings: Sexual content, teasing. (obviously)
Word count: 819


”Holy shit!” Isaac muffled when he jumped through your window, flinching when he caught your scent. Late night visits were standard when you weren’t in school. He usually came at night to take care of your sick self, but this time you stayed home because of the raging lust of mounting every boy in school, which might just as well be a disease.

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In the Heart of the Storm (Part 2)

Bucky x Reader

Summary – You are house-sitting for some friends on the Chesapeake Bay in the middle of a hurricane. Unbeknownst to you, you’re not alone. Takes place immediately following the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 

Warnings – Blood, angst, and bondage

Word Count – 1,450

Notes – Writing these suspenseful, angsty fics always gets my emotions running high!  I’m terrified for her and I know what’s going to happen!!  Anyway, enjoy and as always, I appreciate all of your feedback and questions!!!

Part 1  

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Previously:

You’d just laid back down when you heard another noise from downstairs.  Scared that one of the windows had broken, you grabbed the flashlight and crept down the stairs.  

As far as you could see, none of the windows looked broken, but it wasn’t until you were at the bottom of the stairs that you realized that the back door was standing wide open.  You thought back to this afternoon, but you couldn’t remember if you’d locked it or not.  Deciding that you’d simply forgotten and that the wind had blown it open, you walked over and closed it, turning the lock.

You were just about to turn back around when a hand clamped down hard over your mouth.  You felt the sting of a blade nicking the sensitive skin under your jaw as your head was pulled back.  You dropped the flashlight and as it spun around on the hardwood floors, you could just make out a reflection in the window before you.  The sight of a man, dressed all in black, with long wet hair hanging down in his bruised and battered face and a cold, dead look in his eyes had you trembling in terror.


 

“Don’t scream,” he whispered in your ear as your whole body started shaking in terror.

You started to shake your head, but the knife at your throat reminded you to keep still. “I…I won’t.”

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Worth the Wait- Poe Dameron

Word Count: 2385

Pairing: Poe Dameron x OC

Prompt: “Why are you looking at me like that” and Poe and OC friends to lovers.

A/N: Give me more Poe. This was so fun to write…best friends to lovers is my fav trope of all time besides love/hate I think!


“You really don’t have to sit here, Poe,” I said, casting the pilot a look from over my shoulder. “You gotta be exhausted.”

He was sitting on an overturned crate, chin propped in one hand as he watched me work. A crooked grin tugged at one side of his mouth. “What? And leave my baby all alone with you?”

I rolled my eyes at his teasing, but as I turned back to his ship, a small smile was on my own lips. “Honestly your “baby” might be better off in my hands than yours. Considering all the pain you’ve caused it.” I shined my light into the fuselage, double checking my work.

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back to black [m]

Pairing: Reader x Jin

Genre: smut, tattooed!jin, cheating, angst

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I have been listening to a lot of Amy Winehouse lately and this is what happens. I’m tempted to turn this into a series, but we shall see.

Originally posted by syubbie

We only said goodbye with words, I died a hundred times
You go back to her, and I go back to black

-Amy Winehouse

“Hey! What’s your name?” someone shouted at you from across the bar. His words barely louder than the beat pumping through the speakers.

The bartender handed over your drink, exchanging whiskey for your bills. The whiskey ginger burned on your tongue as you took a sip, preparing yourself to face the owner of the voice. He was handsome, but the look in his eyes told you that your name was the last thing on his mind. “No thanks.” You smiled, slipping off the bar stool to make your way through the crowd.

You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket, the screen sticking out like a sore thumb in the dim lights of the bar your best friend had dragged you too. And as if the universe was playing a cruel trick on you, his name flashed on your screen. You scoffed as you read the familiar words.

Jin 11:45 PM: Where are you?

You held your phone up to your lips, debating if you should respond. Jin was bad for you and you knew it. That’s why the two of you broke up, to begin with. That’s why you still answered his calls and text messages. You took another sip, hoping to find some wisdom in the bottom of the ice. The screen illuminating the glass in your hand as you sank the rest of your drink. He was not a patient man.

Jin 11:48 PM: Y/N, where the hell are you?

His brashness made you wince, quickly typing out a response. Two could play this game, even though the both of you were never good at following the rules.

Y/N: 11:48 PM: Out

You really must have pissed him off as your phone started to vibrate in your hand, he was calling you.

“Stop playing games, Y/N.” Jin hissed through the phone, interrupting you before you could even say hello.

“I told you last time that this was over between us.” You raised your voice, matching his level of annoyance although for a much different reason.

Jin scoffed, “You and I both know that last time wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck you.” you quipped, annoyed at how easily the sound of his voice turned you into putty. His words pushing and pulling you into shapes that only he could make. “I’m at the bar.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” was all he said before the line on the other end went dead.

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Kinks

Originally posted by bwipsul

Kinks

Summay: A sort of domestic life with Jimin that’s a mix of fluff and smut. (warning: contains Asphyxiation and  a little Dirty Talk) 

Rating: M (Smut)

You pouted as you stared outside the window, it was completely white outside. You used a sweater covered palm to swipe at the thick condensation that coated your view. But it was no use, you still couldn’t see anything. No cars, no people just the faint street lights in the distance but even they seemed a bit dim and blurry compared to normal nights. You sighed quietly to yourself, already dreading all the snow you’d have to tread through on your morning commute to work the next day.

“Ahem.”

You tore yourself away from the window, watching as your boyfriend quirk an eyebrow at you. You smiled to him sheepishly, sliding down from your seat on the windowsill perch to the floor. You scooted your way closer to him, picking up the discarded papers you left all over the floor.

“You were the one who called me over to help…” he began mumbling, a cute small pout forming on his lips. “But you’re making me do all the work!” he whined throwing his arms up in exasperation before crossing them over his chest.  

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Tree Bros: Dead Girl(Boy) Walking

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen 

Characters: Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy 

Rating: T 

Authors Notes: Ok so I’m really into both DEH and Heathers. One fateful day I watched a Heather’s anamatic followed by a DEH Waving Through A Window aniamatic that had the ‘school shooter chic’ thing and this fanfic was born. This is more mature than most of my fanfics, cause Heathers. So fair warning, it is the Dead Girl Walking scene and Connor is playing JD and Evan is Veronica. If you don’t know Heathers, go watch dead girl walking and then come read this. It won’t make sense otherwise. There is no smut, it’s all the on stage stuff, but it gets a little hot and heavy.

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CP bachelor AU: part 11

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

***

Damen is sitting on the edge of the white satin bedspread. His hands are laced together; the left thumb is on top. Laurent, leaning against the safe harbour of the closed bedroom door, experiences a small moment of displacement in time. 

“Halvik is probably hugging herself right now thinking about your genetic material,” Laurent says. It’s the kind of thought that he’d usually keep on the other side of his brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s stopped caring what he says in front of Damen.

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” Laurent taps the heel of one shoe, thoughtful, against the door. “I can fix this.”

Damen says, with a hint of anger, “If you’re thinking–”

No,” Laurent says. “I can’t–I’m not going to force them to stick around and pretend not to be in love. Any idiot could see that would backfire. No. I can work with this, but the problem is the story. We could…all right, I can frame it as head versus heart: Jokaste as the strategic choice, the smarter pick for someone in your professional position–”

“I don’t want to marry Jokaste,” Damen says.

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Trust Me - Smut

Originally posted by el-chico-depresivo-y-suicida

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 3,155
AN: Okay so I had this idea and it ran away from me and then this happened and it dirty as hell but then it got sappy and I’m so sorry? Thanks to @writing-obrien @ninja-stiles and @celestial-writing for looking at it for me and telling me it doesn’t suck. Love y’all.

Listen to THIS SONG.

Also, in case you don’t know who Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm are here is a picture. They’re cute as fuck.


After the Nogitsune, Stiles was different. To the people who didn’t know him well, he was the same as ever; goofy, sarcastic and loyal to a fault. But the rest of the pack knew better. He was tired, sometimes listless, more cynical than usual. You were feeling pretty lost, not sure what you could do to help him.

You spent your time with him, most of it just sitting quietly, a movie playing on the TV, but neither of you really watching it. Stiles seemed to be lost in his own head, and you were beginning to worry.

You’d been in love with him as long as you could remember, but your feelings for him aside, he was your best friend and it hurt to see him struggling with his thoughts and the things the Nogitsune did while possessing his body. All the lost lives he felt responsible for taking ate at him, but Allison’s death was what hurt him the most.

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THINK TO ME, LIKE LOVERS DO –  3.4k


“Come on, Derek, just let us in, okay? We can’t help you if you don’t let us in!”

Scott banged on the loft door again, the metallic clank echoing around the spacious room, but Derek did not get up to open it. Instead he stayed pressed against the wall of windows, as far away as he could possibly get.

“How would that possibly help, Scott?” he called back. “The closer you are, the worse it gets!”

Even from this distance he could still hear whispers, brushing up against his mind, thankfully indistinct enough to be ignored for the moment. Earlier, in the sorcerer’s lair, the voices had been loud and persistent and completely inescapable at close range. This was better. Obviously it wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least he was no longer hearing things he didn’t want to hear.

Normally, Derek liked to think of himself as a cautious person. Maybe not in all aspects of his life, but on the whole Derek prefered to think before he acted and thereby not act in stupid ways. So what the hell he had been thinking toying with unidentified magical artefacts found in the home of the malicious sorcerer they had spent a week tracking down and eliminating, he couldn’t say. Judging by the suddenly-audible thoughts of everyone around him in the moment the pendant had started glowing and whistling, he hadn’t been thinking at all.

So now here he was, behind the locked door of his loft, hiding from anyone and everyone whose mind he might involuntarily invade. Because that was his luck.

“We need to figure out what exactly is going on,” Scott argued in that annoyingly reasonable tone of his. “If Deaton can determine what curse it is—if it’s even a curse! It might not be! But if he can do that, then he can work on reversing it. But he can’t do that from all the way out here.”

Derek gritted his teeth against a snarl. He didn’t want to be within a mile of anyone else right now. He didn’t want to hear what other people thought of him; he had long had his suspicions on that matter, and the last thing he needed was confirmation of those depressing facts. But Scott had a point. If he didn’t want to live the rest of his miserable life as an unwilling telepath, Deaton was his best shot.

“Fine,” he bit out. “But for the love of all that is holy, Scott, try to keep your mind off Allison.

The mental images Derek had from the ten seconds between the onset of the curse and when everyone else had realized what was happening had scarred him for life.

With every step he took toward the door, the voice in Derek’s ear got that much louder, strangely light and insubstantial in a way that was hard to define but made it obvious even without seeing Scott’s closed mouth that the words weren’t being spoken out loud.

I don’t think about Allison that much, do I? Just because her hair smells good and she was wearing that shirt today with the — like the blue one better, it makes her look like — probably stay over at her place tonight if her dad doesn’t try to shoot me again — need to take milk home to mom, though, don’t forget —

Derek yanked open the door and immediately backed away, hoping that even a few feet would make the thoughts less demanding. He was thoroughly caught off guard to see Deaton standing quietly at Scott’s side; he couldn’t hear a single thought from the man. When Derek turned his attention on him, he just got a very strong impression of a brick wall.

Deaton smiled that cryptic little smile of his, like he was the one reading minds now.

“A mental block,” he said. “A technique for shielding the mind, perfected through years of practice and meditation.”

“Like Occlumency?” Derek asked.

“Not unlike it,” Deaton said easily. “Sadly, not something that can be picked up by novices in a few hours.”

Well, there went his last hope.

Derek let himself be tugged down onto his own couch by Deaton and sent up a prayer of thanks when Scott took the hint to not crowd him. That didn’t stop him from catching stray thoughts— really should get some curtains or something, this place is depressing — smells like sad in here, god, I hate chemosignals —but it was better than a constant deluge of them.

There was some poking and prodding, some following the light exercises, and some sort of obscure, extrasensory magical goings-on before Deaton sat back with another almost-reassuring smile.

“It’s not a permanent spell,” he said, “nor a complex one. However, it is one that requires the source to be destroyed.”

“The source?” Derek asked. “The sorcerer is already dead. Why am I still being subjected to this?”

“By source, I mean the artefact in which the curse was contained,” Deaton clarified. “Luckily, we have the artefact on hand. Now it’s only a matter of destroying it.”

“How long should that take?” Scott asked.

“Shouldn’t be long,” Deaton said, standing up and dusting off his lab coat. “A week or two at the most.”

“A week or two?” Derek repeated, horrified.

Don’t know why he’s so upset by that, we go weeks without seeing him anyway — kind of a hermit, honestly — oh god, he can hear me, can’t he, fuck —

“It’ll be fine,” Scott said bracingly, and Derek had a strong urge to punch him in the face. Luckily, Scott seemed to sense it and started hastily backing up toward the door, thumbing over his shoulder. “Deaton will get you fixed up in no time! In the meantime, I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“Please do,” Derek muttered.

The silence, when Scott and Deaton were gone and the door shut firmly behind them, seemed emptier than it usually did, but Derek was grateful for it nonetheless.

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anonymous asked:

Hey! After reading your Andriel amusement park prompt, I was wondering if you could do some Neil whump? Where Neil gets sick, or injured, and andrew takes care of him? Cheesy, but soothing for my soul \(^_^~ thanks!!

Listen, Anon. Soft fluffy Andreil is what I live for! So please enjoy this sick Neil drabble featuring mother-hen-Nicky and the very real flu death experiences of @irishrainbownjh

It starts with a tickle. Right at the back of the throat. It grates with every swallow, and despite how many times he clears his throat, Neil can’t seem to shake the scratch. He pulls himself out of bed, has a long hot shower, and downs two glasses of water, but it’s still persistently there.

By the time Neil is halfway through his morning lecture, his head has started pounding as well. It’s a constant pressure behind his eyes that throbs in time to his heartbeat and cries out at the flash of each new slide. The scratch of a pen on paper to his right and the smack of gum to his left only make it worse.

When the class finally ends, Neil drags himself back to Fox Tower. His body feels both sluggish and sore, like he’s just run five miles then slept ten hours cramped up. Even the smallest movement sets his muscles aching and his joints creaking.

It takes considerable effort to make it up the hill to Fox Tower, so Neil opts for the elevator over the stairs. The doors open on the third floor to reveal the hallway bustling with a group from the soccer team. One of the players has an arm full of pizza boxes, and the greasy scent wafts down to Neil. It makes his stomach bubble and churn, and the striker braces himself against the wall and breathes through gritted teeth to get it to settle.

“Neil?”

Neil whips around at the sound of his name, but the fast movement causes lights to pop behind his eyes. It’s like a bad case of vertigo, his whole world tilting, and Neil stumbles back against the wall again. He blinks a few times, and when his eyes come back into focus, he finds Nicky’s concerned expression. It takes another moment to register that Nicky’s hands are gripping his elbows and holding him steady.

“Jesus, are you alright? You look awful.” Nicky raises his hand and presses it against Neil’s forehead. “And you’re burning up. Let’s get you inside.”

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The Wedding Planner (Part 1)

Summary– Being a wedding planner is all fun and games until suddenly you’re saved from an accident by the man of your dreams– later discovering that he happens to be your latest client’s fiancé. 

Author’s Note– First off, I am just beyond excited for this series! I absolutely loved this movie and figured, “Why not make it into a series and add my own twist to it?” So I finally did and I really hope you all enjoy it! feedback would be greatly appreciated folks.

Originally posted by jennymagicalheart

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Imagine Being Kidnapped by Kingsman’s Old Enemies

A/N: Hey pals! Sorry I’ve not updated in a while, I have mocks next week so things will be a bit slower :( hope that’s okay, and I’ll queue up some fics so you can’t avoid me ;P. ALSO I posted this on the wrong blog earlier sorryyyyy :P
This was requested by @thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch so I hope you like it!

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, swearing.

You woke up to hushed voices and a throbbing headache.

Prying your eyes open, you tried to reach up and rub them - only to find your hands tied behind your back, tight enough so you could feel the zip ties digging into your wrists.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled, voice still groggy from being unconscious. In the darkness, you could just make out the figures huddled in the corner of the room as they glanced over at your, still deep in conversation.

You felt a shiver of fear run through your body. These people were definitely not your friends; the guns in their hands and the pain in your head could attest to that. So who were they?

It was then that one of the silhouettes made their way out of the darkness. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man and he walked with the sharp posture of a soldier. There was a shotgun holstered on his thigh and he spun a knife between his fingers, the metal reflecting what little light there was in the room.

“Good. You’re awake.” he moved closer, kneeling in front of you, eyes locked on yours. You thought you recognised him; his voice and movements seemed familiar somehow.

“I see you’ve remembered me. I remember you, Emrys. You took down my organisation five years ago - you and Galahad, was it?” You knew exactly what he meant. Five years ago, when you’d only just joined Kingsman, you took your first mission with Agent Galahad. It was rough, and cold - three weeks in Russia in December, two of which were spent staking out the gang in an abandoned barn.

You recognised the man then. He was the ringleader of the operation that shipped drugs and body parts in an illegal trade network through Europe. Agent Galahad was new to Kingsman as well, so you worked well together, with him in the field and you hacking your way into the gang’s systems with ease.

Agent Galahad asked you out when you got back. You fell asleep on him in the cab, but he carried you inside and left a sticky note on your forehead with a time and a place.

(He did the same thing four years later when he proposed.)

“Yep, that was us. We fucked your operation right up, didn’t we?” You smirked at him, and he placed a calloused hand on your shoulder, making you flinch.

“You did indeed. But now -” He paused to look back at the others, two of whom were unlocking the cell door, “-you can help us fix it.” You rolled your eyes but felt fear gripping your core.

“How?” The man smiled, showing missing teeth and several gold fillings. You saw one of the others moving forwards, with a long chain that he quickly pulled around your ankles, tying you up completely. You tried to kick him, and hit his nose - he let out a long string of curses and the leader glared at you, raising a meaty fist that slapped your cheek.

“Time to go, Agent.” He grabbed you around the waist and threw you over his shoulder, and you screamed, wriggling and squirming but held still in his uncomfortable grasp.

They led you down a tunnel, standing close to the walls and walking in perfect formation. The man carrying you stood at the back, and as you moved your hands to maintain the feeling, you found that you could reach the wall. Bracing yourself, you dug your nails into the wooden wall and scratched four lines across it.
At least if Kingsman found this tunnel, they might guess where you were.

Blood gathered under your nails and splinters embedded themselves in your fingers, but you kept scratching, leaving a long trail down the wall.

The tunnel made a sudden turn, and the walls turned to stone. The group picked up their pace, walking towards a door at the end of the tunnel. When they pushed it open, you saw a room similar to your cell, but with a computer in front of a cast iron chair.

Dropping you unceremoniously into the chair, the leader stepped back and pressed a button. A set of steel cuffs wrapped around your ankles, and just as your hands were freed, they tied a rope tightly around your waist.

“You’re going to break into the secret service computer network. And you’ll implant a virus that can destroy their security, releasing the names of their undercover agents and any weapons plans they have. We’ll use them as leverage and your government will give us the resources we need. Understand?”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You want me to hack into MI6?” He nodded, and his gang began to whisper together.

He held up a hand and the mumbling stopped. “That’s correct. Can you do it?” You bit back the temptation to roll your eyes and settled for breathing deeply.

“What if I don’t do it?” The leader smiled condescendingly, and spun his knife around between his fingers, dangerously close to your face.

“Then we’ll kill you, Agent. Slowly and painfully. Are you willing to take that chance?”

Panic began to build in your chest. You tried to compress it; you were an agent, a good one too. You squeezed your hands together, stroking your wedding ring and taking a breath.

“Try me.“

***

An hour later, and several more bruises later, you still wouldn’t crack. The gang leader (whose name was Sebastian) had tried all manner of methods to convince you help, but none of them had worked. You were still hoping that some other Kingsman agent would rush in to save you.

Somehow, Sebastian cottoned onto this. "They’re not coming for you Agent. They’ve given up on you. You might as well help us now because your Galahad’s clearly not coming to get you.”

Eggsy. Would he really give up on you? You’d both promised each other years before that you would always come for each other. When he saved you from Valentine, when you didn’t sleep for a week so you could watch over him on a dangerous mission - even when everyone else stopped hoping, you two had faith in each other.

“Alright,” You murmured, just loud enough for Sebastian to hear. “I’ll do it.”

“Good, agent. You did the right thing. Pity it took you so long,” He smirked at you, pushing the table with the computer closer to you. Fisting a hand in your hair, he yanked your head close to his.

“If you betray us, I will end you. You have two hours.”

**

The familiar feeling of a keyboard helped to calm you racing heartbeat. You saw that they’d already prepared the software - they just needed you to locate the MI6 system, get past the firewalls, and find the relevant information.

When you began to type, the code felt foreign to your hands. You had taught many agents how to input it, but you’d been waiting to use it for an emergency.

“C'mon, Eggsy, you have to learn this! What if you can’t get out of trouble some day?” Eggsy grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’ll wait for you to come ‘n find me. S'not like I’d let you get rid of me so easily,” You rolled your eyes dramatically; Eggsy leant across the desk, seemingly about to whisper in your ear. Until he pressed his lips to yours and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer.

You always felt butterflies when you thought of the emergency code. This time, it was because of the barrel of a gun you felt pressed into your head.

Merlin would know where you were. If you could just finish the code, it would be less than an hour until they found you. Then all you had to do was pretend to hack until Kingsman got you out.

Enter. All you had to do was wait. For once, you let yourself feel proud, for developing the code that had just sent your location and a distress signal to Kingsman headquarters.

Sebastian pressed the gun harder into your head. “What was that? Are you in?” You shook your head, typing in all the codes you could think of. You just had to bide your time.

“Not yet. It takes time, you know. They have some complex encryptions,” He huffed, but let you get back to work.

Come on, Eggsy. I need you.

***

Your two hours were almost up.

The gun against your head wasn’t pressed as hard; you could still feel the dull ache the pressure had left.

Sebastian was getting desperate.

“Have you done it yet? You have five minutes, agent, and then I will kill you,” You didn’t look back at him, typing even faster. You entered random codes, anything to make you look like you were working.

Bang!

The gang members’ heads all turned to the door. What was that noise? It sounded like… a gunshot.

“What the hell was that?” Hissed Sebastian. Immediately, he took the safety off of his gun, and his cronies began to pull out weapons.

Come on Eggsy, you thought.

Grabbing your arm, Sebastian pressed something on the chair that released the cuffs on your ankles. He yanked you out of the chair, pulling you in front of him and pressing the gun against your temple.
“If this is your agency… I won’t hesitate, Emrys,” You felt hope building in your chest.

There were footsteps pounding the corridor outside. The sound of a gunshot reverberated through the room - please, let it be Eggsy. Suddenly a silence fell. Sebastian didn’t make a noise, and neither did the intruder on the other side of the door.

Until the door was kicked through, and a man in a smartly tailored suit stood there, holding a gun and an umbrella.

“I think you’ve got our hacker, bruv.” Sebastian jumped into action, firing two shots at Eggsy - who dove out of the way with a practised ease and kicked the legs of two other guys from underneath them. with Sebastian distracted, you saw your chance; you twisted his arm backwards and brought your knee to his stomach, sending him sprawling on the stone floor. You ripped the gun from his hands and kicked him, knocking him out.

“Y/N! Behind you!” Cried Eggsy, and you turned around just in time as a woman came up to you, a knife pointed straight at your throat. You threw a punch at her and she reeled backwards, where Eggsy threw her against the wall. There were only two people left, and they stood in the corner of the room, pointing their guns at you and Eggsy. The pair of you made eye contact and dove to the side as the pair shot at you.

You saw Eggsy’s umbrella lying near you, and grabbed it, pulling it towards the two of you. Opening it out, you felt the impact of the bullets and frantically pressed a button on the handle. It sent out a flash of light, and you flinched, but heard the sound of two bodies dropping to the ground.

Peering out from around the umbrella, you saw that the entire gang lay on the floor, dead or unconscious. Slumping against the wall, you looked up at Eggsy, who was staring at you.

“Glad you could make it Eggsy,” He shot you a smile, but the pair of you jumped as a sudden movement caught your eye. It was Sebastian and in his hand a remote. A cut was dripping blood down his face, but he looked you dead in the eyes and pressed a button.

“Security measure,” He whispered, before collapsing. Eggsy looked confused, and you felt the same; until the sound of ticking hit your ears.

Eggsy looked at you, panicked. “What the fuck is that?” Furrowing your brow in concentration, you tried to figure it out. Security measure? What would they have used -

“It’s a bomb! Fuck, Eggsy, we need to go,” Eyes wide, Eggsy grabbed your hand and sprinted out of the room, down the tunnel you had both come through. The ticking seemed to speed up - or maybe it was the blood pounding in your head as your pulse raced. There was a door up ahead, or at least the frame of a door that had clearly been kicked down.

The two of you ran faster still, the ticking reaching a crescendo and the door coming ever closer. Just a bit further, and you were safe -

***

The explosion could be heard from miles away.

It sent a fall of rocks down the mountain, and the entrance to the cave collapsed. No one inside could have survived - at least, that was what Merlin told the pair of you when you were sat safely in the plane, flying far away.

“And Emrys - good to know your code works. And well done on not letting those fuckers do anything awful. Galahad, good job too. But if you ever try and threaten me into saving your wife faster again, I will end you.” There was humour in his voice, and he rolled his eyes affectionately when Eggsy wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You and Eggsy left the cockpit of the plane, ready to remove your dusty, blood-stained clothes.

“Glad you’re alright, babe. You were fuckin’ badass in there. How did you get ‘em to let you use a computer?” You told him the whole story and he listened intently. As you finished, a curious expression appeared on his face.

“So what did you do if you weren’t hackin’ into MI6?” You hummed, unsure. Trying to think back over the codes you used, you were hit with a sudden realisation.

Biting your lip, you replied, “I just used whatever codes I could think of. They just happened to be the ones I used when Roxy and I hacked Harry’s computer last month…” Eggsy looked shocked, but couldn’t hold in his laughter.

“Oh my God, babe. You mean you -” He was overcome with laughter, and you grinned in mock shame.

“Yeah. I linked all their servers to a porn website. Oh god.”

Eggsy pulled you down onto the seat next to him, kissing you deeply.

“I fuckin’ love you, Y/N,” You smiled into the kiss, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek.

“Love you too, Eggsy.”

Wings and Embers

Fellow acomaf fans,

Because I love Wings and Embers (for those who don’t know, Wings and Embers is the bonus nessian story found in the target edition of acomaf) I turned the pics I found — taken by @bookofademigod (@this post) HUGE THANKS btw. Without you, we would’ve been missing a lot!— into text so I can easily reread it. And I thought why not share it?? So here it is!

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Punishment

Request: Hey! Awesome new Negan blog! Could you write me a fic about a rebellious wife that drives Negan crazy? Maybe she sneaks out a lot, doesn’t like to wear dresses and bends the rules? She likes to push his buttons and one day ends up in danger and he has to save her ass? Would love to see what you come up with! Thank you!!!!! - @asshatry

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: language. moderate smut (yes I went there).

tagging some people who might enjoy this smut ;D - @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ashzombie13 @negans-network @strangersangel9 @negan–is–god @itsneganslucille @negansblessedbbyg @marythenurse @sherrybaby14


You clutched your book tightly in your hand, turning to the next page. A hand reached towards you and snatched it out of your hand, throwing it half way across the room. Glaring up at Sherry, you sprang up from your seat ready to punch her square in the jaw. You had already slapped her once before, and you weren’t afraid to do it again.

“What the fuck, Sherry?” You growled at her. She stared at you in disbelief and gestured to your outfit. You were wearing a beige v-neck tshirt, black skinny jeans, and black boots.

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