just look at his profile


Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Reader wants to unleash the darkness Steve hides inside.
Words Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Dirty talk, Rough sex, Oral sex (male receiving), and Unprotected sex [don’t be a fool and wrap your tool]. Spoiler alert!
Author’s note: This is the very first smut fic I’ve ever written, so please keep that in mind and be gentle. Any type of constructive feedback is welcomed. Thank you, guys.

Originally posted by wakandaentertainment

   New Year’s Eve - Avengers Tower, Manhattan, NYC 

As you had put the last touch to your makeup, you left the en suite bathroom to find your shoes in a hurry. Your brother- Tony had organized another fancy party at the Tower in the name of the Avengers to celebrate the New Year.

When you got the invite, Steve didn’t seem willing to attend the party because of all the bad things that had happened in the year, but after many puppy eyes and cute pouts, you eventually dragged him there with you and the rest of the team.

“You ready, Y/N?” Your boyfriend asked behind the door of your bedroom.

“Yes, come on in,” you told Steve as you put your high heeled feet on the bed and seductively rolled up your stocking that matched the lingerie under your dress for the night.

When you turned your head to him, you caught America’s golden boy staring and swallowing hard. “Um… Tony just told us to hurry up.”

“I’m ready,” you grabbed your clutch bag and went to give a soft kiss to Steve. As things were about to go out of control like you’d planned… you broke away, smirking.

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{ red velvet }

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader (ft. sugar daddy!thomas)

t/w: none!

tags: @toonerzchatz @promisesandmore @itsallexmallory @impala-moose @jaydiggs1218 @fierydaemon @slightlysouless @jzzyjones @wiindmill @whitestorm547 @hamilturnt  @littleblue5mcdork @arostrolgy @mcgrammer15 @fanagelbagel   @luna-lightwood-potter @strawbirby @21donutlover @jazzyyyjones 

a/n: thank you for 2,500 followers! we’ll celebrate with this!

inbox || masterlist

part one // part two // part three


“Thomas Jefferson,” You read out loud to Peggy as you ate a bowl of cereal. “He’s 31. Loves France, art, and is looking for a companion.” You laughed a little, but your voice quickly softened. “He makes over $100,000.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Peggy snorted, digging into her breakfast.

“Well,” You paused. “No, but -” You chuckled. “That’s a lot of money. More than what I make.”

“Definitely. What else?”

“He’s really tall and he’s really fit from the looks of these pictures.” You smiled, scrolling through the photos on his profile. “He’s traveled a lot and -”

Another message!

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raphael openly following simon on twitter just to post cryptic things about betrayal and heart simon’s tweets even tho it’s nothing but boring shit like a picture of a cat he passed in an alley or bits of original lyrics


Perching falcon

(Sitting, waiting, his eyes scaning the surroundings from above. He is a hunter, he knows his prey soon within his grasp. Always is. )


“Poirot said placidly, “One does not, you know, employ merely the muscles. I do not need to bend and measure the footprints and pick up the cigarette ends and examine the bent blades of grass. It is enough for me to sit back in my chair and think. It is this –” he tapped his egg-shaped head – “this, that functions!”
- Agatha Christie, ‘Five Little Pigs’

Tumblr - Girl (Part 1)

Tumblr - Girl (Series)

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Pairing: Misha Collins x reader

Summary: You post on your tumblr after a panic attack, not knowing if you would get an answer

Word Count: 1.736

Warnings: panic attack, angst, swearing, mental illness, depression, maybe fluff (I’m really not good at this!)

Notes: it is my first fanfic and I am not a English native speaker so please don’t hate me

Your POV

“Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.” you said to yourself. You felt the beginning panic attack, your pulse increased, tears welled up in your eyes and you your lungs couldn’t get enough air. “Breathe out. Breathe in.” you continued your mantra. Your whole body was shaking, but you knew it would eventually get better. After a few minutes of just breathing your body calmed down and you took your phone to distract yourself. There was not a lot going on on tumblr but you just scrolled through your dashboard, multiple times you saw postings about the unbelievable support from the SPNfamily and how they cared about their “family members”. You considered yourself as a family member since quite a long time and you often posted help-seeking texts, but not one time you got an answer to those. You just were not important, to anybody, nobody wants to talk to you. Tears started welling up again and you sobbed quietly. Before you knew what you were doing you typed a short text:

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Portugal Ficlet: No Video Cameras

Another glimpse of Dan and Phil in Portugal in 2010. This is my imagined explanation for why there is apparently no video from the entire trip.

[Masterlist of all pieces of the Portugal fic project]

“No video cameras.” It was Dan’s one unequivocal requirement about the Portugal trip. “We spend most of our time looking at each other through camera lenses and on computer screens. I want this trip to just be us, like, looking at each other. Directly! Nothing between us. Just … us. For real.”

So neither of them had packed a video camera. It felt odd to Phil, who had been filming so much of his life for what seemed like forever, but he couldn’t deny that it was kind of nice to just sit beside Dan on the plane and not have to fight the temptation to film him, to instead just look at his profile and enjoy its delicacy in the moment without trying to capture it for posterity.

“Phones are okay, right?” he’d asked anxiously. He really didn’t want to have to go the whole trip without his phone. But luckily Dan had agreed, though he had requested minimal photos and minimal tweeting.

“Just … keep your eyes on me, okay? Let’s try and forget about the fucking internet and fucking YouTube and fucking subscriber numbers and all that stupid crap. I mean, yes, I usually love all that stupid crap, but just for this one week, let’s try to forget it. Okay? Let’s just be you, and me, and us. Just … Dan and Phil. Just for a few days. Can we do that?” And Phil had hugged him tight, nodding yes, murmuring assurances in his ear, because Dan had sounded almost on the verge of tears, as if he really needed this vacation, needed a vacation from being “danisnotonfire,” a vacation where he got to be just Dan for the first time since his channel had hit it big and mobs of fangirls had started recognizing him in train stations and coffee shops.

So they spent every hour of every day together in Portugal, and every night too. They went to the beach, and they walked the cliffs around their hotel, and they lazed around in bed for hours when they felt like it, and they ate strange food in tiny local restaurants, and they visited a marine park … and they didn’t film any of it. Not a single moment. They did take a few photos, though not many. Most of the photos Phil took were of Dan. Most of the photos Dan took were of dolphins and sea lions at the marine park.

“What if we want to make a sex tape?” Phil had teased, but Dan had looked serious.

“We’ll just have to store every moment in our own memories,” he’d replied, face young and earnest and strangely wise. “Just pay such close attention to every single detail that we’ll never forget any of it and a video recording would be entirely redundant.”

Phil had nodded, a little dazed at the intensity of Dan’s answer.

But Dan’s words had stuck in his mind throughout the trip, inspiring him to intently watch Dan’s ever-changing facial expressions, and listen to the sound of his voice, and feel the warm smoothness of his skin, and smell the combination of professional product and ocean salt in his hair. Phil stored it all away in a special place in his memory, someplace safe where he knew he wouldn’t ever lose it, because it was too precious to risk.

“I’m going to remember this forever,” he whispered into Dan’s hair one night as they lay in bed, both teetering on the sweet edge of sleep.

“That’s the idea,” Dan whispered back, and then sleep took them.