“You want to fight monsters, Kyle, then you sure as hell better be willing to become one yourself, ‘cause you know what? At the end of the day, somebody gets eaten.” - Training Day (2017)
Summary: Steve’s being a star-spangled pain in the dong so you set him straight with something you heard from someone when you first starting working with S.H.I.E.L.D.
A/N: The beginning of this is set before the events of The Winter Soldier, before S.H.I.E.L.D. falls apart.
Pairing: Steve x reader
Warnings: Death, fighting, angst
Word Count: 1,604
Two Years Ago
You’d been recruited as a new member of S.H.I.E.L.D. straight out of training for the C.I.A. You’d shown up to your new place of employment the day after completing training, only to have S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill step into the room next to your boss and call your name out in front of everyone, causing your face to flush. She didn’t explain why she’d pulled you out of work at the time, making your joints almost lock in fear, your hands becoming clammy, and your heart pounding in your ears so loud that you couldn’t focus on what she was saying at first.
“Hello? Agent (Y/L/N)?” She questioned, annoyance coloring her voice, though she seemed to be trying to contain her emotions. She gave you a demanding stare, as if waiting for an answer.
“O-Oh, can you please repeat that?” You asked, almost whispering in embarrassment as your face flamed an even darker shade of red.
“Would you like to be transferred from the C.I.A. into S.H.I.E.L.D.?” She repeated to you, looking down at you with a no-nonsense air about her and her arms crossed over her chest.
“Oh my gosh, do you guys really want me? Yes, yes of course, I’d love to join S.H.I.E.L.D.!” You exclaimed, causing an amused smile to flit across the woman’s face. You hadn’t been exposed yet to what it really meant to be to be an agent with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or any agency, for that matter, so you had no idea what you were in for.
Agent Hill smiled to herself, making a comment you didn’t quite catch about a wake up call.
Two Weeks Later
You felt sick to your stomach, it had been a few days since you’d returned from your inaugural mission, and you were questioning why you’d even wanted to be an agent, with any division.
Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was the moment of impact, the bullet you’d fired, burying itself into the head of an enemy. You didn’t know him, he didn’t know you. But you were enemies nonetheless.
It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, extract vital information by covertly hacking into the target’s mainframe. The second you’d started transferring files onto a hard drive, however, alarms had sounded and soldiers were rushing the room.
“I’ve got company,” you stated into the comm in your ear, but before you could panic or draw your own weapon, a deadly redhead in a black jumpsuit had come from seemingly nowhere, dropping almost all of the soldiers before you could blink. You knew who she was, of course, you’d sat across from her in the quinjet on the way to this mission, but the skill set of Black Widow always left you speechless, no matter how much you’d seen her in action, in both footage and real life.
One of the men she’d disarmed previously got to his feet while she had her back turned to him, trying to comprehend the situation, and had raised his gun before you had time to call Natasha’s name. Acting on instinct, your handgun was aimed at him, your shot lined up almost instantly, and you squeezed the trigger fluidly. It had happened in the space of a second, and Natasha was in front of you, a proud looking her eye, but a shadow of concern behind it.
“Agent (Y/L/N), what’s your status?” Captain Rogers spoke into your ear, making you blink rapidly and turn back to the computer to check the uploading process.
“Data transfer complete.” You informed him, to which he’d responded with regroup and evacuation plans.
Grabbing the flashdrive after safely ejecting it, you and Natasha headed to the rendezvous point, the world blurring past you as you floated through your adrenaline high.
“(Y/N), we’re safe, put the gun away,” Natasha crooned in a surprisingly soft voice. You followed her orders numbly, holstering the weapon after checking to make sure the safety was on.
Captain Rogers and the others were waiting for the two of you to arrive, and after handing the flashdrive over to Steve, you boarded the jet without a peep, waves of shock still pulsing through you.
He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion after you, and was ready to follow you and pester you on your mood, until Natasha laid a hand on his arm, holding him back.
“Don’t. The shot you heard wasn’t me, it was her.” She said, and that was enough for him to nod and let you be, still staring in concern at your glazed over face and slumping shoulders.
Blinking fiercely, you rubbed the burning of tears from your eyes. You’d cried about this enough to Maria, who’d seemingly taken you under her wing, and even gotten a talk from Natasha about how it gets easier to deal with, making you grateful that someone like her hadn’t belittled you for your emotions.
On the fifth day of your funk, after missing multiple targets in the firing range, you were informed that the Director wanted a word with you.
Dread coiling in your gut, you’d entered his office with his permission, seeing him already looking at you with his fierce gaze.
“Sir,” you addressed him with a nod, taking on a more proper stance.
“Agent, I’d like to talk to you about your performance today in the firing range.” He stated, before footage of you missing half your shots rolled from the holographic projector set up at his conference table. “This-,” he pointed to the image, “-is not the agent I hired. This is not the woman who came out at the top of the C.I.A.’s new recruits, and it is definitely not the woman I argued with the Director of the C.I.A. over.” He said, his voice growing more emphatic as he continued. “Now, I know from Agent Romanoff that you saved her careless ass from getting a bullet put in her head by putting a bullet through someone else’s head. It happened. Either accept that, or resign.
You want to fight monsters, (Y/N), then you sure as hell better be willing to become one yourself, ‘cause you know what? At the end of the day, somebody gets eaten,” he finished, looking at you sternly.
You straightened up, meeting his intense gaze with one of your own. “Yes, Sir.” you nodded, before being dismissed with a warning to accept your actions or leave.
After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, you really had nothing, besides your solid friendship with Natasha Romanoff, which is how you ended up with the World’s Mightiest Misfits, travelling on missions for backup and covert ops. In the years since you’d met Natasha, she’d trained you diligently in the art of espionage, so you were used more for infiltration and information gathering, and sometimes long-distance assistance, than the real fighting, since your small frame couldn’t physically support you fighting side-by-side with the others.
You’d all just got back to the compound from a rather draining mission, and you had quite a lot of blood on your hands from this.
“I told you only to kill when necessary, (Y/N), not whenever there was a vague threat of a fight.” Steve scolded, scolded, you, like a small child who hadn’t listened to the rules of their parent. “What happened to the agent I met who didn’t want to harm anyone, the agent that I first met at S.H.I.E.L.D. two years ago? What happened?” He asked, his voice gradually growing louder.
“You want to know what happened to her, Steven? She got eaten. She was eaten by the monster I am now! And do you want to know why she got eaten, Steven? Hm? It’s because you can’t fight a monster without becoming one! And if I didn’t become the monster I am now, I would’ve been eaten with her!” She shouted at him, her small hand coming up between them and poking his chest for emphasis as she raged. For a person who would’ve made Steve seem tall even back in the 40′s, he had to admit she was damn menacing, and a small part of him was afraid of this side of her, or, he supposed, this side of her that he chose not to acknowledge ever since her return from Fury’s office after her first mission.
“Hey, Doll, okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, seeing the tears swelling in her eyes. “I know, I understand. I-I just worry that you won’t always be able to handle the killing,” he spoke quietly as he pulled you into his chest, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “I love you too much to see you lose yourself to this job.” He spoke into her hair, slowly rocking them both back and forth as he pulled you down onto your shared bed, his hand cradling the back of your head as you cried into his chest.
“You’re not going to lose me, Stevie,” you sniffled up at him with a tired smile, “I’m too tough to get eaten now.” You said, causing him to let out a soft chuckle, laying down and pulling you onto his chest.
“I know, sweetie, you’re tougher than anyone I know.” He said, before leaning down to you and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
Y’ALL YOU CAN CALL ME JOANNE BECAUSE I PULLED OFF THE ULTIMATE SCAM LAST NIGHT.
I’ve been seeing the same POT for a month now. Yesterday was our fourth meet and I was going to mentally declare him an SD from now on. You’d better believe that was C A N C E L L E D.
After spending two hours getting ready, I drove another two hours in the snow in Toronto traffic to meet this man at a restaurant for our date. I got there, grabbed a table and sat down when he texted me saying he fell asleep and to order for him because he would be there soon. This really pissed me off because the last time we met up he was an hour late, and the time before that he was off by 20 minutes. Now, I had already spent money and time driving to the restaurant so my ass was NOT about to turn around and leave. No, I knew he would come, even if it took 2 hours. And it did. Straight up, two hours.
Luckily my boyfriend came and saved the day by covering my tab and letting me use his laptop to charge my phone in the restaurant. He stayed with me until this man arrived.
I walked out to his car, smiling and pretending everything was okay, because my ass already had a plan.
There was no way I’d be fucking and sucking this dude tonight. No way in hell! Had it been a vanilla man I would’ve already blocked his number and forgot his name but I was going to suck this man dry of every hour of my time that he wasted.
I turned to him, smiling and said, “babe, do you want to go to the mall?”
You’d better believe his ass took me to the Eaton Center, scrambling to make up for tonight. I had him withdraw $2,000 cash and buy me $400 worth of Steve Madden and Aritzia gear. Then, before it was time to leave, “I have to go to the bathroom,” I said, “I’ll meet you outside once you grab the car from the parking garage.”
And what the fuck did I do? I grabbed an Uber and hauled my ass back home. If anyone saw a young woman running down the street in Louboutins and an arm full of shopping bags last night, that was me.
After two hours of texting him and pretending I couldn’t find him outside, he got the hint.
i thought about kissing you today
and the day before that.
i know i’ll think about kissing you
and the day after that
and some more days after those days.
i think about kissing you
and tracing my fingers along
i think about kissing you
in your car, in the rain, on your doorstep.
i think about kissing your
dimple, your cheek, your spot.
i think about kissing only you,
not anyone else,
p i l l o w t h o u g h t s b y c o u r t n e y p e p p e r n e l l
Whatever you do, DON’T think about Viktor giving Yuuri a massage after a grueling training/practice session.
Don’t think about Viktor using a scented ~sensual~ massage oil that he secretly bought after he caught Yuuri inhaling it in the mall (the flush of his cheeks before he even realized Viktor had seen him told the man all he needed to know).
Don’t picture them in front of a glowing fireplace, Viktor starting with Yuuri’s aching, bruised feet; working up each calf, thigh, getting a lit t l e b i t too close– and then switching to hands, arms.
Don’t imagine him really kneading his fingers into Yuuri’s back and shoulders because that’s where he carries all his tension. Don’t imagine Yuuri throwing his head back and keening at how *good* it feels.
Viktor certainly doesn’t take his gentlest, most loving approach to Yuuri’s tummy (it’s not that Yuuri’s self-conscious about it or anything).
And he definitely never tickles his hands up Yuuri’s neck, scritching lightly at his hairline, firmly dragging the pads of his fingers along Yuuri’s scalp, secretly enjoying the little relieved moans as stress flows out of him.
There’s no way Viktor ever gives Yuuri a massage.
And even if he did, there isn’t the slightest chance that Yuuri completely turns to Jell-O by the end of it.
// they were!! But you sent this very soon after they closed and I promised i’d write V and Saeran for that post regardless so here it is!! Saerans is a little NSFW, nothing too bad. Just some rough kissing and implied succ
READ THIS POST before reading this! It has the plot in it! However that plot takes place while in a route so it’s a little confusing, just take out some of the bits and pieces but you still get the basic storyline.
LONG POST AND S P O I L E R S!!!
This would be “ after route ” technically, So Saeran is living with Saeyoung and all that, I didn’t really know what to do with V so let’s just pretend he has a route here for a second and his good ending would be him getting the eye surgery and being with MC! So this “ takes place ” after that!
It had been a long day for him. First his car wouldn’t turn on, leaving him trapped cold out in a snow storm. Second he had dropped his camera into the wet snow, it was new, expensive, and definitely not waterproof. He just hoped it would be okay by the time he made it home, leg bouncing a bit from anxiety. As soon as he unlocked the door of his house and exhale out of pure exhaustion exits his lips, running a gloved hand through his hair to shake out the small snowflakes that had gotten buried inside. Winter was such a beautiful time, but him and his car didn’t seem to think alike.
A hot and much needed bath calmed his nerves by a mile, It was still fairly early— About seven pm, so he didn’t know what he should do with his spare time for the rest of the night. Suddenly an image of you flashed in his mind, his heart skipping a beat at the pretty picture. As much as he’d love to drive over to your home and see you, hold you and touch you– his car still wasn’t working right, and visibility was pretty low due to the heavy snow. He sighed softly, God he missed you. It’s only been a few days since he’d seen you last but even that seemed like years ago to him. Your scent, smile, the way your eyes light up when you laugh. He hated missing things like those when he wasn’t with you. In all honesty he was so desperate to question if you’d like to move in with him so he could be with you all the time, but yet so terrified of making you feel as if things were going to fast. The last thing in this world he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable. He sank down into the grey couch, goosebumps spreading over at the sensation of cold leather against himself. Pushing the still wet blue strands of hair away from his face before grabbing for his phone off of the glass coffee table it rested on, he slide across the screen to unlock it. The battery was a little low, but still enough for a phone call. His heart always skipped a beat whenever he was about to call you, his fingers moving fast to dial the digits he needed to reach. He cleared his throat before swallowing thickly, he’d hoped you’ve eaten something already by this time.
As soon as you picked up he was nervous, he heard you sigh quite heavily out of what– disdain maybe? It took him aback for a second, was that for him?
“ I’m not going to tell you again, stop calling this number. ” He felt his blood run cold, you spoke up once more with a harsh and demanding tone before he had the chance to question what he had done wrong. “ I don’t have feelings for you and I never will. ” He takes a few seconds to take in what you said before he hears the dial tone, his brows furrowed in confusion as he started down at his phone in pure disbelief. Was it something he had done or said? Were you upset at him? Instantly he feels like crying, stinging tears piling in the corners of his eyes as he vision becomes slightly blurred, God he didn’t want to loose you like he’s lost everything else. You were the best thing that’s happened to him in a very long time, and he just blew it. Was he too pushy when he visited you? He feels like the room is closing in on him and his chest is tight, stomach heavy.
He tries to sleep but he can’t, his body was exhausted but his brain was wide awake, struck with panic and the nagging fear of being alone again, it was a little past three in the morning before he finally decides to send you a text you and ask what he did wrong and how he could fix it, he couldn’t bare to let you go that easily.
* “ MC, whatever i’ve done to upset you i’m so so incredibly sorry.. Please, tell me what i’ve done so I can fix this. Please.. I don’t want to loose you.
Sleep was not on his mind that night. He stared at the screen for hours as his heart raced, silently praying for your reply to come fast yet still dreaded it at the same time. He sent a few much longer texts after that about how much he loved you and how terrible he was, and a string of apologies. It was around 7 pm before you finally responded to him, he felt his stomach turn when his phone lit up.
* “ V What are you talking about?? ”
Before he could reply his phone buzzed, making him jump a little. He was so tired, but he answered right away.
“ Hello MC.. ” He greeted you warily, throat dry with anticipation. “ Hi V.. What were your texts about last night? I never said any of that stuff. ” You murmur in confusion, your voice was a little croaky from just waking up. “ .. I called you.. Late last night, and you said that you didn’t have feelings for me anymore. ” His eyes were half lidded but his mind was still wide awake, his hand clenched the sheets tightly. “ No no.. V, that wasn’t for you.. ” You go on to explain the situation to him, he audibly sighs out of sheer relief at your reasonings. He was so scared the entire night and now that all just melted away at your words.
He sinks back into his bed as he chuckles softly, his chest rising and lowering as his breath becomes slower, eyes focusing on the ceiling. Still in disbelief he runs his fingers through his hair, questioning if you would like to talk to him about your day yesterday. All he wanted was to hear your voice after all that happened the night before. Now more than ever he was so grateful for you, the feeling of loosing you was something he never wanted to experience again.
It had been three weeks since he had forgiven his brother Saeyoung. Three weeks that he never thought he would be able to live to see in his lifetime. It had been hard, learning to cope with all this. He still had a lot of pent up emotion deep inside, Most nights he’d just stare up at the ceiling in thought and doubt. Usually when he was feeling upset at something you would text him as if you knew, if you felt what he was feeling. The others didn’t think MC was making a smart move being with him, even if they didn’t say it he could tell. He could feel it, most were upset at him. But the way he felt when he was around you was alien to him, never in his life had he wanted to make someone as proud, make someone as happy as he did you. How could a person be so kind– so amazing? He’d always dreamed someone like you would come take him away from this awful life, but never thought it would actually happen. So their thoughts and words meant nothing to him. — It had been another tough night, he just felt on edge constantly. Everything Saeyoung said or did annoyed him and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d been trying to teach himself self control, controlling anger, he just still had a lot of pent up frustrations at his brother that it was hard sometimes. After a quiet dinner he excused himself, ignoring Seven’s desperate pleas to ’ hang out ’ with him. Tonight he just wasn’t in the mood for socialization. However his mind wandered straight to you behind closed doors, he couldn’t help but wonder what you were doing this late. Were you thinking of him too? Everything was so new and foreign to him he wasn’t sure if he was doing this whole relationship thing right but he really was trying. He sank down into his bed with a long exhausted sigh, rubbing his eyes and groaning softly as the bright light of his phone screen lit up the room. It was a text from Saeyoung, he considered ignoring it, but it was caption less and a picture file so he was curious. As soon as he opened it he cringed at the longcat meme his brother had sent, couldn’t he have sent one that was more.. new? But still, he couldn’t help but smirk at how stupid it was. Damnit. He didn’t reply, instead returning back into his messages app. A conversation with you caught his eye, he’d talked to you a few hours ago but you still haven’t replied. A small pout grew prominent on his lips, he hated it when you took so long to text him back. He debated back and forth for a second, but he made up his mind and clicked on your contact– The picture of you causing him to smile softly. He pressed the call button and put it on speaker, staring at the picture in front of him. Finally he jumped a little when you picked up, He was about to ask why you were taking so damn long to reply to him but you spoke up before hand. “ I’m not going to tell you again, stop calling this number. ” He felt his heart sink instantly and his brows furrow in anger and confusion, The fuck? You had to be drunk. Or joking. “ I don’t have feelings for you and I never will. ” He started blankly at the screen in front of him, processing your cruel words for a few moments before clenching his phone tightly enough it could shatter. There’s no way in hell you get to say something like that to him. You’re everything to him, what was he supposed to do without you? We’re all those ’ i love yous ’ not real? No, you had feelings for him wether you wanted to admit that or not. He could see it, hell— he could feel it. — It was around one in the morning before you switch into night mode, making yourself some chamomile tea and dressing in some loose sweatpants and a white tee-shirt. Your ex hadn’t called back, that was a relief. Hopefully they got the message loud and clear by now. Settling into the bed you sigh softly seeing no one was in the messenger at the moment. Usually Saeran was on every night at this time, that was odd for him to break schedule like that. A harsh knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts, also causing you to jump slightly. It was late, why anyone would be here at this time was above you. You swallow thickly, setting the cup down on the nightstand before cautiously making your way towards the door, fists clenched as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. You reach towards the door handle, before the doors even fully opened its pushed open, causing you to squeal loudly. You don’t even have time to process what’s going on when you feel a familiar pair of lips locked tightly onto yours, it was rough and passionate– His teeth grinding against yours painfully but yet it felt so good. You open your eyes half way to confirm who you think this is, Yes– thank god it was actually your boyfriend. A large hand cups the side of your face, deepening the kiss even more than it already was. You had no idea what had gotten into him but at the moment you didn’t care– Too focused on the sudden advance that had been thrown at you. His fingers roughly traced your face, then down your neck, slowly traveling towards your waist until reaching your hips, gripping tightly as he pulled your body tight against his own. After what seemed like years both of you pull away, breathless but your faces still inches apart. His usual blueish yellow eyes were so dark and menacing, Unknown traits showing through. “ If you truly didn’t have feelings for me, Would you really melt the way you just did? ” And devilish smirk apparent on his lips as he caught his breath, hand giving your hip a tight squeeze before his eyes scanned your own confused ones, trying to figure out what you were thinking. But actions speak louder than words, right? You didn’t know what he was talking about and frankly didn’t care, practically throwing yourself onto him as your nails hungrily run up and down his back, looking for something to grab onto and you kiss him back equally as passionate and hungry. He couldn’t feel the full effect of yours hands through his thick jacket but he didn’t care, all he knew is that you were his and he was yours. The rest of the night is filled with pure passion and lust, actions do truly speak louder than words.
Give me cliche high school romance movies with LGBT+ people please.
Give me a girl who’s never played an instrument in her life learning how to play the saxophone and bribing people before a school assembly on Valentine’s Day so she can serenade her band geek GF with “careless whisper”.
Give me the two rival star quarterbacks who secretly train together after school (and maybe make out a little).
Give me the genderqueer head of the cheerleading squad and the smartest student in the school going out.
Give me a trans guy cast as Romeo in the school play who falls in love with his co-star, Juliet.
Give me an ace person who’s the editor of the school paper and has a perfectly good and valid relationship with the student who volunteers as the library aide.
Give me the r e a l l y cute foreign exchange student and the student showing her around the school falling in love.
Give me the prom kings who are so in love you can see it in their eyes when the look at each other.
Give me the trans girl dancer and her childhood friend who’s been with her through it all.
Give me the super cool nonbinary basketball player who constantly flirts with the towel/water boy.
Give me the person who’s in a love triangle but turns out to be aro/ace, and the two people chasing after them realize they’ve got a lot in common.
Give me the questioning guy who ends up in a healthy poly relationship with his two closest friends.
Give me the “asshole player” who takes a bet to seduce the “good girl”, but ends up falling for her “badboy brother”.
Hawkeye is sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. to eliminate the infamous Black Widow. This sets in motion a series of run-ins and fights between the two highly skilled agents, each unable to get the upper hand on the other. Their game of cat-and-mouse eventually develops into a grudging mutual respect and soon, Hawkeye is having doubts about the orders of his mission as he finds himself unable to take the shot when presented with the opportunity.
ROMILDA X PANSY *grease voice* tell me more, tell me more
(DID YOU GET VERY FAR)
After that debacle with Harry and the chocolates, Romilda acquires a…reputation.
Like. Parvati Patil will read your palm at lunch for ten sickles and some juicy gossip, but Romilda Vane–she conducts her business in the shadowy alcoves around classroom doors, in dusty passageways behind portraits that know how to keep secrets, after curfew and before the witching hour and always, always, always with a sharp, scarlet smile.
She has a talent, see.
“Sure,” she slyly tells her customers, “you can buy one of those thirty minute tame-your-crush elixirs at that joke shop in Hogsmeade. You can brew your own, even, if you think you’re patient enough. But my spells–my potions–they’re special. They work so well you’ll only need them once.”
It’s an outrageous guarantee to make. She offers a molasses-slow, molasses-sweet explanation for the tendrils of her magic only latching onto preexisting emotions–because love and lust and everything in between can’t be manufactured, not truly. She absolves you of your guilt while fulfilling your wildest dreams.
It’s only a matter of time before Pansy hears about her.
About what she can do.
Because, see, Draco’s been busy this year. Distant. Thinner, and paler, and twitchier, and he’d forgotten her birthday in January and he’d snapped at her when she’d given him a card on Valentine’s Day and it’s just that she’s a bit desperate now, isn’t she?
It’s half past midnight when Pansy ducks behind a painting depicting a Puritan woman biting into a glistening red apple.
And Romilda Vane–short, curvy, dark haired and bronze skinned and electric, almost, in that vaguely reckless, noticeably dangerous way that most Gryffindors are–she greets Pansy with a thoughtful smirk and a leisurely once-over. Pansy feels the weight of that gaze–the low, scorching heat of it–like a velvet-lined cloak in the dead of summer.
Perhaps, she thinks, this was a mistake.
“What’s your poison, Parkinson?” Romilda asks, cocking a brow. “Don’t you have a boyfriend already? Or…”
“Or?” Pansy drawls, accent crisp.
Romilda tosses her hair and shrugs. “Or…maybe you’re here for a girl.”
Pansy doesn’t grit her teeth–its much too quiet for that in this forgotten corridor, in this narrow winding space with the flickering candles and the atmosphere that swirls rather than settles–but she does moisten her lips with a quick flick of her tongue.
And Romilda tracks the movement with an interest that might register as lazy to someone else. Someone who isn’t intimately familiar with power plays that don’t involve male posturing and the subtle draw of a wand. Someone who isn’t Pansy.
“It’s for Draco Malfoy,” Pansy eventually says, lifting her chin. “He’s been–distracted. I just need him to…not be. For a bit. Nothing extraordinary.”
Romilda snorts, and then reaches up to loosen her tie. “If you didn’t need extraordinary, you wouldn’t be here.”
Pansy huffs. “Will you do it or not?”
“What?” Pansy bleats. “Why?”
Romilda yanks at her tie, exposing the wings if her collarbones as well as several inches of silky brown skin. The scalloped lace edge of a burgundy bra. Pansy presses her thighs together.
“Because he’s obviously not into you anymore, and I have a success rate to maintain,” Romilda answers, somewhat snidely.
“Well, what if–” Pansy starts, and then breaks off.
There’s a pause. “What if…”
Pansy swallows. Toys with the locket at her throat, slip-sliding her fingers around the smooth silver hinges. Romilda stares, unabashed. Being watched like this–devoured, really–it’s intoxicating. Gryffindors aren’t shy, apparently. And, oh, could they focus when they wanted to.
“What if…I was?” Pansy asks, dragging her hand down from her locket, to the ivory pearl buttons on her blouse. “Here for a girl. What would you say?”
Romilda smiles, then, and it’s as liquid as it is aggressive. Sultry. Pleased. “I’d say,” she murmurs, stepping towards Pansy, “that you don’t need a potion for that.”
-breath play -pinning you down -lip biting -bruises from where he grabs your thighs and hips -“you want me to fuck you? is that what youre asking? beg for it.” -angry sex when you get home after he sees another guy flirting with you -wearing his old shirts afterwards -no matter how hard he fucks you, he always makes sure you’re okay and knows your limits -punishments for finishing before he said you could. -bondage -h o l y f u c k t h e m o a n s -his orgasm face might be prettier than his normal face -handshandshandshandshandshands -loves using his hands, but is amazing with his mouth. -grabbing you by the throat and all he says is “prince(ss).” in that tone of voice and you just know. -kissing every inch of you when you’re done and telling you how amazing you did.
Scorpius Malfoy?Yeah Idk we don’t know much about him.he’s ok I guess…
SCOR👏PI👏 US 👏MAL👏 FOY
》》F A N C L U B 👌👌💦💦💯💯OVER HE R E《《🔝🔝🔝🔝
👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit
Summary: Being one of the world’s mightiest heroes is a big job. Family faded far into the background. Fun faded with family. There was nearly no time for anything or anyone other than mission after mission. But when Y/N receives a devastating phone call, she realizes the importance of the people she loves.
A/N: I got a tad carried away. Enjoy!
Deciding to be an Avenger was no small choice. The job became your life. Family faded far into the background. Fun faded with family. There was nearly no time for anything or anyone other than mission after mission.
So one might have expected Y/N L/N to take at least a day before agreeing to join the famous team. She, however, gave an affirmative answer mere moments after the job was offered. Having been an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D for a long while already, Y/N knew the strings attached.
Within the week she was moved into the Avengers compound and starting the intense training with the team. Well, the part of the team that trained; meaning Nat, Steve, Bucky, and Sam. When the time came for her first mission with the team she was more than ready.
That was the beginning of Y/N and the star spangled man with a plan’s friendship. They started running together in the mornings. Well, Y/N would run, and Steve would still outpace her at a jog. They moved on to weekly movie nights, catching him up on the pop culture he’d missed. Other feelings began to develop as they grew closer. Y/N was falling down a steadily steeper slope in love with the captain.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The rest of the Avengers became like a family to Y/N. So much that it almost made up for all the missed birthdays and holidays. Almost.
Tony had decided to institute a monthly group bonding activity. When the call came, the whole team was playing laser tag. The round was powered people versus agents and Tony. The score was tied. Y/N was determined to win, and right then, that meant taking down her crush.
OK but there was definitely a little while after they got to the cabin and before the goons showed up, right? - before Sam went through the trap door and Dean went outside, ten minutes where Sam put the first aid box down on the table and crossed the room in two steps and they’ve gotten into such bone-deep sync, dead together and then suddenly alive, moving almost wordless through the forest, they’re fighting as far into the fucking drift as you can go
and so when Sam crosses the room Dean just turns into him and runs a hand up the back of his neck and pulls him down so they’re breathing against each other’s mouths, pressed up close and shifting against each other’s bodies, centres of gravity falling in endless imbalance, and then Sam wrinkles his nose up and shifts back on his heels and Dean pulls a wry kind of smile, hitches his head to the side, says ‘later’ and Sam breathes ‘yeah’ and they get into position
It’s very easy to draw a comparison between Newt and Hagrid, as both got expelled under similar circumstances. However, just because Hagrid’s wand got snapped doesn’t mean Newt should have lost his wand privileges as well. I think we may have made an incorrect assumption, based on Hagrid’s story, that expulsion always, every time, leads to a loss of wand privileges. I think Hagrid’s wand loss had less to do with the fact that he was expelled, and more to do with when he was expelled. Remember, Hagrid was expelled in his third year–meaning he wouldn’t have had the chance to take any of his wizarding exams.
For some clues on how passing the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s relates to wand privileges in the Wizarding World, we can look to some other characters who didn’t follow the ordinary Hogwarts-wizarding-degree-pipeline: The Weasley Twins.
Fred and George left Hogwarts on their own accord–after taking their O.W.L.s, but before completing their N.E.W.T.s. And remember–there was never any question about whether they could keep their wands, even though they skipped out on N.E.W.T.s
Newt must have been expelled AFTER passing his O.W.L.s, meaning he was “qualified enough” according to wizarding regulations to be trusted with a wand. He also had minimal qualifications (O.W.L.s do count for something), explaining how he got an entry-level Ministry job, despite being expelled.
Here’s some further evidence for the timing of Newt’s expulsion: Judging by what we know about the timeline (Leta and Newt were friends “for years”), and the fact that there had been quite a bit of romantic tension between the pair (making me believe some of their time together at school must have been in latter teen years) puts Newt, in my mind at 16-17 when he got expelled. Right in his sixth or seventh year.
That being said, I do rather enjoy the theory that Newt “cut a deal” with the Ministry to be allowed to keep his wand after expulsion in exchange for some clandestine, magical beast related service in the War.
Tessa: “Cosa vuoi che faccia?”
Hardin: “Voglio che tu stia con me. Che mi perdoni, e che mi dia un'altra possibilità. Lo so che te l'ho chiesto tantissime volte, ma te ne chiedo un'altra ancora. Non posso stare senza di te. Ci ho provato, e anche tu, lo so. Non c'è nessun'altro per noi due, se non noi due. Non è niente. E so che tu lo sai.”
Tessa: “Mi hai fatto terribilmente male, Hardin.”
Hardin: “Lo so, piccola, so di averlo fatto. Darei qualsiasi cosa per tornare indietro”