killing time at work in the mornings

Ryan’s Face When He Unsheathed The Sword On This Week’s AHWU Like I’ve Never Seen Anyone Embody The “Kid On Christmas Morning” Look More Perfectly

The Sheer Joy In His Voice When He Announced “These Are Deadpool Swords!!” Is Something I Never Thought I Would Experience

Also Him Casually Like “It’s Been A Long Time Since I’ve Worked With Nunchucks” “You Worked With Nunchucks?” “Briefly” As If It Should Surprise Anyone At This Point That Ryan Has Used Every Weapon Under The Sun

And Then Him Struggling To Get The Sword Out From The Holster On His Back For Ages

Ryan Killed Me Like 7 Times In This One Video What A Start To The Week

Butterfly Wings

Pidge:

The first time Lance walked into the common room without makeup on early in the morning, Hunk cried.
Hunk had known about Lance’s Vitiligo since early days in the Garrison when he had accidentally walked in on him while changing. Since then Hunk had worked as a one person protection squad ready to kill anyone that so much as glanced at Lance the wrong way.
He had known that Allura knew about Lance’s skin since he had told Hunk almost immediately after it had happened.
However he had never expected that only a few days later Lance would come stumbling into the kitchen first thing in the morning, hair messed up from sleep and eyes half closed; only wearing his boxers and a white vest causing the pale patches that ran across his arms, back, neck and face to be perfectly visible.
Hunk couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so proud of his best friend. This truly was an achievement.
Lance looked over at Hunk opening his mouth and pointing at it demanding his breakfast.
Hunk only rolled his eyes and laughed swatting at the blue paladin with a wooden spoon. “Foods almost done, so sit down and don’t complain.”
“Ok Hunky dory” Lance teased sitting at the long table with his head rested on his arms snoozing till the space porridge was ready.
For a few minutes everything was peaceful.
Then Pidge walked into the kitchen and stopped in their tracks staring at Lance.
Before Hunk even realised what was going on, they were already rushing over to the snoozing paladin with a panicked look on their face.
“Oh my god Lance what happened to you!?”
Hunk flinched. He prayed that Lance hadn’t heard anything, that he won’t have to deal with this again.
However Hunk wasn’t that lucky.
Lance slowly straightened up looking at Pidge was a forced smile.
Pidge gasped seeing the pale patches also on his face.
“Nothing happened Pidge, im fine.” He shrugged casually but Hunk could see he was practically curling in on himself.
“Fine!” Pidge exclaimed “Lance have you looked in the mirror today?! There’s something wrong with your skin it could be an alien parasite for all we know!”
Lance bit his lip, the effort not to cry so intense that he managed to draw blood. “Pidge I’m fine this is just… how my skin is.”
“B-but how!?” Pidge asked looking over at Hunk. They were shocked to see the usually gentle yellow paladin shaking with rage.
“Pidge stop.” Hunk hissed through gritted teeth.
“Hunk its fine…” Lance tried putting a hand to his mouth to hide the cut.
“No it’s not!” Hunk snapped putting the spoon down and glared at at Pidge. “You remember when we kept badgering you about your gender. Asking you why your like this and what’s wrong with you?”
Pidge looked confused and a little scared “n-no.”
“Exactly. Because we knew it would hurt you to ask such things, yet here you are doing the same thing to Lance.”
Pidge looked down guilty “I’m… I’m sorry Lance I just… I didn’t know what it was and I was worried.”
Lance smiled hugging the smaller paladin from behind “it’s ok, a lot of people don’t know what it is and can kinda freak seeing it the first time. I really am not sick, it’s just how my skin is. I’m fine.”
Hunk pretended not to notice how Lance’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.
And he pretended not to notice when the next morning Lance came to breakfast in his normal clothes and his makeup back on.

 MASTERLIST 

* = newly added stories // 5th April, 2017

Keep reading

When We Collide (Part 5)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: PG-All

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

”No way! Seriously? They really kicked you out of college?”

You rolled your eyes and glared over at Nicole for being the gossip snitch, something she had been her whole life but you really had wished she would have kept this to yourself just for a while. It was, after all, pretty humiliating when you thought about it.

“You sound like you’re surprised, Joey.” You commented with a glimpse in the eye and lifted your beer up to your mouth, letting the taste explode your senses and cool down your pre-sweating forehead.

Keep reading

Left leg

(A/N): Still trying to get over this writer’s block you guys! So sorry for the shitty quality of my fanfics! (Also this one is hella long)

Summary: Bucky knew he had dealt damage in D.C. but he never thought he’d come face to face with that damage

Warnings: some angst, Bucky feels horrible, swearing

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah


Originally posted by rohgers

   Bucky knew he caused damage in D.C, that’s half the reason he couldn’t go back there. He knew he killed hundreds of innocent people and injured hundreds more, he knew he had fucked up lives in the worst kind of way and that was something he could barely stand to live with. He knew he destroyed the heart of America, he knew he had caused irreparable damage and that’s why he couldn’t face the facts. He couldn’t stand to go back to D.C only to find the hearts of so many people full of hate, even if he did deserve it. He couldn’t stand the thought of having to look at the damage he caused, or having to walk past the memorial site, he couldn’t stand to see all the weeping families at gravestones, holding flowers for the ones he had killed, he simply couldn’t do it. But somehow Bucky’s past always caught up to him, even if it wasn’t in the most conventional of ways. 


    He’d been out on a coffee run for all the Avengers at 7 in the morning, a time no one should even have been alive at but here he was, rubbing at his eyes as he made his way into Starbucks. Surprisingly there was one or two other people already up, most likely those who worked or were those crazy morning people (a type of person Bucky did not like whatsoever) and so Bucky had to wait in a line, begrudgingly at that. 

   “I’ll just take one black coffee, thank you,” The voice in front of him was chipper, much to his distaste. 

   “Can I get a name for that?” 

   “It’s (Y/N),” 

   “Okay, I’ll have that up for you in no time,” And with that the barista turned on her heel to go and make one boring, plain cup of coffee. This (Y/N) person turned on their heel, smacking right into Bucky’s chest with a small noise of surprise. 

   “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you there-” Their voice trembles off as they look up at Bucky, no doubt recognizing him from the many articles, tv shows, and interviews he had done in the last couple of years. 

   “Sorry,” Bucky supplied simply, giving the smaller person a tired smile. “I shouldn’t have been standing so close,” (Y/N) nods gulping slightly. 

   “It’s uh- It’s totally okay,” Their eyes seemed to be trained in on his face, looking up at him with a wide, fearful gaze. 

   “I promise I’m not as bad as the media makes me out to be,” Bucky provided with a soft chuckle, waiting for (Y/N)’s expression to soften just a bit but alas it did not, it still held that same, scared look to it as before. 

   “(Y/N), I have your coffee,” The barista waves a small cup, smiling at them softly. With an air of the utmost gratefulness (Y/N) accepted the coffee and paid before nearly rushing out the door, not even excusing their rather crude behavior and that’s when it catches Bucky’s eyes, just beneath the fabric of their sweatpants is a gleam of metal; the connecting joint of a prosthetic. 


   Bucky had ordered and taken the coffee’s back home to the tower, thoroughly confused by (Y/N). They seemed so perfectly happy one moment and the next they had lost their entire attitude, falling timid and feeble before Bucky. For gods sake it was just some random stranger he had met in a coffee shop, not someone he needed to be dwelling on but no matter how hard he tried to focus on something else other than (Y/N)’s petrified expression he simply could not. It was burned into his head- the look of sheer fear in their eyes, the way their face had drained of all color the minute they looked at him. With a displeased little growl Bucky gnawed on the lid of his coffee cup, staring at the floor intently, as though it had all the answers. 

   “What’s bothering you Barnes?” Sam asks as he walks into the communal kitchen, sweat dripping from his face as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

   “Nothing,” 

   “You’re a terrible damn liar Bucky, now what the hell is going on with you,” Bucky sighed as he chucked his cup away, folding his arms over his chest almost defensively. 

   “There was someone in the coffee shop today, they were super chipper until they turned and looked at me,” 

   “Well I’m sure your giant ass metal arm is sure to intimidate some people,” 

   “I know, I get it, but for some reason I just can’t get their face out of my head, the look of fear that appeared there as soon as they looked at me,” 

   “Maybe you remind them of someone? I’m sure there are a million logical reasons for this,” 

   “Yeah,” Bucky sighs as he bites his lip in thought. “I’m sure,” 


    Bucky didn’t sleep much that night, every time he closed his eyes he’d see that face, those eyes, that fear struck expression and surprisingly all sense of exhaustion would be wipe from his body. He tossed and turned all night, trying to sleep but eventually he found it was futile- it wasn’t going to work. With a grumble Bucky rose from his bed, stepping into the chilly air of his room to grab some clothes and his running shoes. If he wasn’t able to sleep why not work out brutally until he passed out instead? Bucky quickly got dressed, before throwing his hair up into a messy bun and running out of stark tower, into the still dark morning of New York. 

   The streets were already loud, people walking to and fro, taxis here and there, but Bucky loved it, it was such a stark contrast to his desolate life as the winter soldier, void of any life such as the bustle of New York. 

   Bucky smiled politely at an elderly woman as he made it to central park, already taking up a path to jog along. It was a little more quiet here, a little colder, but Bucky was fine with that too, he enjoyed the silent time he could run and enjoy the view- Bucky’s brows furrow as he rounds a corner, stopping when his eyes caught on a certain metal glinting in the dark of Central Park, the same glint that walked out of the coffee shop only a day prior. Perhaps if he just kept his distance, ran a safe distance away- or maybe he could change his direction of running to a whole other path? Bucky was just about to turn on his heel when the same glint shifted, along with the rest of the body attached to it. 

   “Are you stalking me now or something?” (Y/N) asks, huffing at a stray piece of sweaty hair. It had been obvious they’d been running, due to their leggings, tank top, and running shoes. A thin sheen of sweat covered most of the skin Bucky could see, almost shimmering against the dark of the park. 

   “N-No,” Bucky stuttered, feeling a bit nervous, even shy, “ I’m just running,” 

   “And you were in the coffee shop yesterday,” 

   “I was uh- I was getting drinks for my friends,” (Y/N) looks him over, their gaze still holding a bit of fear but the more Bucky talked the more that fear diminished. 

   “At 7 in the morning?”

   “They’re early birds unfortunately,” 

   “And what about you?” (Y/N) asks as they take a step towards him, their prosthetic making some clicking noises as they do. “Why are you up so early?”

   “Couldn’t sleep,” Bucky provided, shrugging a bit. “What about you?”

   “Running’s good for the leg,” (Y/N) looked him over, scrutinizing him with squinted eyes. “What’s your name?” Bucky looked at them strangely, his head cocked to the side and his brows furrowed once again. Based on their looks from yesterday he could have sworn they knew him, or at least knew of him, no one looked at him so fearfully without reasoning. 

   “I thought you already knew-” 

   “I know who you are, everyone knows who you are, I just wanna hear it coming from you,” Bucky smiled just a bit, it was small and barely there but it had happened. 

   “I’m Bucky Barnes, and you are?”

   “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It’s nice to officially meet you Bucky,” (Y/N) glanced him over, taking in his appearance with a small smirk. “Since I think I trust you I was wondering if you’d like to go running with me, a makeup for our last little run-in,”  Bucky nodded, his smile growing a bit wider. 

  “I’d love to,” 

  “You’ll have to try to keep up, I don’t mess around Barnes,” His last name sounded fond on their tongue and it nearly made Bucky melt but before he could even dwell on it (Y/N) took off, booking it much faster than he would have imagined. With a loud exclamation of something not being fair Bucky took off after them, smiling a bit brighter than he had in a long time. 


   Bucky returned from the tower that day feeling more refreshed than he had in days, he had finally corrected his wrongs with (Y/N), he got a good run in, and he dared to think he was slowly on his way to making a new friend. With a giddy little smile Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, guzzling it down rather quickly. 

   “And what’s got you all excited this particular morning?” Nat asks as she meanders into the kitchen, already seeking out her pre training cup of tea. 

   "Who said I was excited?“ 

   "The stupid smile on your face says so. Who is it? Is it a girl? A guy?” Bucky blushed as he looked down at his water, his thumb tracing along the plastic cap. “Nat-”

    “Oh my god, it is someone, tell me all about them, I wanna know,” Bucky sighs as Nat all but drags him to the kitchen table, all but forcing him into conversing. 

    “Nat, I literally met them yesterday, we went on a run today, nothing’s happened," 

    "But you want something to happen, don’t you?" 

    "Nat, I’ve known them for a day, if that, I don’t know anything about them other than their name and number and-" 

    "They gave you their number?” Nat looks at him as she leans forward over the table, her hands clasped together in an orderly fashion.

    “Yes?”

    “Bucky, they’re totally into you! You should take them out!”

    “Nat, a day, I’ve known them for a day, plus I don’t think they like me all too much," 

    "And why not Mr. Chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and a personality of gold?" 

   "The first day we met they kinda gave me this weird look- weird is the wrong word- more like terrified,”

    “But how we’re they today?”

   "Better, I suppose,“ 

    "See? You two are getting somewhere, that’s great!” Bucky groaned, as he buries his face in his hands, his skin nearly beet red. 

   "It’s not that big of a deal Nat,“ 

    "This is one of your first encounters with someone other than an avenger in 70 years so excuse me if I seem excited Barnes,”

    “That’s it, I’m going to train,” Bucky got up with an aggravated sigh, taking another bottle with him just in case. Nat smirked as the brunette stalked away, all his tension following along with him. She’d figure out who this person was and she’d get them together with Bucky even if it was the last thing she did.


    “You’re late Barnes!” (Y/N) called out as they stretched out their legs- or leg to be exact. 

   "Sorry,“ Bucky panted in the cold air of New York, damn near freezing his ass off in the temperature. "I woke up late,” (Y/N) looked up from their deep leg stretch, Eyeing Bucky curiously.

    “You okay?”

    “Yeah,” Bucky smiled a bit, despite the cold settling into his bones. “I’m just a bit cold,” (Y/N) smiles as they stand up, stretching their arms a bit.

    “Tell you what, I’ll buy you some coffee afterwards, sound good?” Bucky nodded, his chattering teeth making his jaw click loudly. (Y/N) smiled as they settled down, their legs and arms relaxed for the time being. “Try not to slip on any ice Barnes,” (Y/N) warned before taking off, leaving Bucky behind to shiver. With a soft quirk of his lips Bucky chased after, hoping the desperate run would warm up his nearly frozen fingertips. 


    It had been nearly 3 weeks since his first encounter with (Y/N) at that coffee shop and although the two hadn’t progressed past the running buddies stage of their friendship Bucky knew that somehow they’d advance in their “friendship”. Perhaps all they needed was a bit of coffee and some time to talk…


    (Y/N) sipped calmly at their drink, making content little slurps as they happily drank the liquid and Bucky thought it was absolutely adorable. He too sipped at his drink although he couldn’t enjoy it to it’s fullest when (Y/N) sat before him, drinking their own coffee so- so- so cutely. 

    “So what does Bucky Barnes do when he isn’t training or going on missions with the famous Avengers?” (Y/N) asks as they set their cup down, much to Bucky’s displeasure. 

    “Well Bucky Barnes just so happens to really like science and art so he spends a lot of his time going to conventions and museums,” (Y/N) smiles, flushing a bit at his words.

    “So you’re kinda a geek?” Bucky chuckles as he allows the warmth of his coffee to seep into his bones, warming his chilled fingers. 

   "Yeah, I guess you could say that. But what about you? Hm? What does (Y/N) like to do in their spare time?“ (Y/N) smiles gently as they take another sip of their drink before setting it down again.

    ”(Y/N) likes to read in their spare time, writing is pretty nice too but watching classic old movies is their favorite,“ Bucky smiles at this; he knew a bit about classic movies, he’d grown up watching the classics. 

    "You should stop by the tower sometime, I’m sure Stark has every movie in existence," 

    “I also found this cool old theater on Main Street, they show old movies all the time, we should go there some time,” (Y/N) looks at Bucky as they quietly drink their coffee, their slurping noises a bit quieter than before. “There’s also a record store full of old albums, I think you’d really like it,” Bucky smiles as he leans backwards, bringing his steaming cup to his lips. 

   "That sounds really nice, I don’t have much to do with my life so most if the time I’m free,“ 

   “Really? The all star Avenger doesn’t do much with his life?” Bucky chuckles, his cheeks warming just a bit. 

   “When the avenger isn’t training or on missions he doesn’t do much with his life, sound better?” (Y/N) hums as they nod, smirking just a bit. 

   “Well, when is this particular Avenger free next?”

   “All this week actually,” 

   “Okay, how about Wednesday we can check out that record store, maybe catch a movie later on?” Bucky nods and smile, a different kind of warmth seeping in through his bones, a pleasant, soul encasing kind of warmth and goddammit Bucky loved it. 

   “I’d be glad to,” 


    Bucky couldn’t help eyeing (Y/N) with every step they took. They were checking out a number of records, flipping through each one with a fond smile upon their face. It was evident that they had put some effort into their look based on the way their outfit and hair looked which meant that they had put effort in for Bucky and damn did they look gorgeous. 

   “Are you going to look at the records or are you just going to keep eyeing me?” (Y/N) doesn’t even look away from their browsing as they smirk, their thumbs flipping each record carefully. 

   “You’re not even looking at me, how do you know-” (Y/N) turns to look at Bucky, smirking even more.

   “I’m looking at you and you’re looking at me and you have been for the last 5 minutes, I even pointed out the swing records to you and you haven’t even touched them,” Bucky blushed, his chilled cheeks dusting just a bit. The two had walked here together in the freezing air of New York and not even the peppermint flavored drink in his hands could warm him up but for some reason looking at (Y/N)’s smile did. 

   “Sorry,” Bucky murmurs as he looks to the ground, smiling sheepishly at the stained concrete. “You just look really pretty is all,” 

   “I could say the same to you Barnes, you look pretty damn good without the sweatpants,” Bucky chuckled a bit, his dust only growing redder by the second. “Now look at your records you dork, the movie starts in half an hour,” 


    Bucky’s date with (Y/N) had gone amazingly. He bought a few records and when they were done they went to the old theater and watched countless silent movies. Bucky was pretty sure it was illegal to hop from movie to movie but with (Y/N) by his side he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. In fact, the movie hopped until midnight, well past the time their first movie ended. 

   “Isn’t it illegal to do that?” Bucky had asked on the way back as he stuffed his face with a handful of leftover popcorn. 

   “Only if you get caught,” (Y/N) sent a little wink Bucky’s way and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t melt his heart a bit. “I wouldn’t recommend eating that entire bin Barnes,” (Y/N) eyes the half eaten carton of popcorn with an air of amusement. 

   “How come?” Bucky asks as he deliberately shoves more popcorn in his face, just to spite (Y/N). 

   “You’re going to be sluggish in a few hours, wouldn’t want me to beat your time in laps today, hm?” 

   “Oh my god, there is no way we’re running today, it’s nearly one and-” 

   “And you have to be up in four and a half hours to race my ass around Central Park, so put the popcorn down Barnes,” Bucky looked at (Y/N) in shock but there was no denying the small smile on his face, a smile that no one had seen in years. 

   “You little shit,” Bucky muttered as he threw the carton away, listening to it hit the bottom of the trash can noisily. (Y/N) hums smugly as they march on their merry way, only stopping when Bucky lagged behind a bit. 

   “You comin’ or what?” (Y/N) smiles at the soldier as he takes a bit to walk up to them, smiling at them just a bit. 

   “You really do look beautiful,” Bucky whispered as he looked at (Y/N), the way their eyes shined under the lights of New York, or the way their smile was best light in spite of all the dazzling billboards, or perhaps the way their hair was a mess beneath their beanie but it still looked amazing anyways. And that’s when Bucky noticed their blush, it was very slight and so light he could barely see it but it was there, he had finally gotten (Y/N) to blush. 

   “You’re such a sap,” 

   “I do come from a time where that was popular,” Bucky chuckles as they begin walking again, back towards central park, where they had originally met up. “Are you gonna let me walk you home or are you just gonna demand I stay here while you waltz away?” (Y/N) smirks as they stop in the middle of the park, looking at the somewhat still city. 

   “I think I’m just gonna waltz away for now,” (Y/N) smiles at Bucky’s expression, a small chuckle falling from their lips as they do. “Maybe I’ll let you walk me back on the next date, hmm?” Bucky nods, stuffing his nearly purple hands into his pockets. 

   “I’d like that,” 

   “ ‘Course you would, you sap,” (Y/N) chuckles as they begin to walk away, stopping a few feet just ahead of Bucky however. “Don’t forget, four and a half hours,” Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes playfully. 

   “You better be buying coffee afterwards,” 

   “You know it Barnes,” And with that (Y/N) walked off, a little spring in their step due to their prosthetic. Bucky watched them for a bit, until he could barely see their dark beanie in the even darker light and then he turned on his heel with a smile, slowly making his way back to the warmth of Stark Tower. 


   “Up and at Barnes!” (Y/N) yells as the supersoldier trudges to their side, more than exhausted. 

   “How are you already so fucking happy?” Bucky mumbles as he rubs at his eyes, yawning softly as he does. 

   “I don’t need a lot of sleep unlike you Princess Aurora,” Bucky smiles just a bit, despite the exhaustion settling into his skin and bones. “I’ll buy you two coffee’s if you can catch up to me, sound good?”

   “No, no that does not sound good-” But before Bucky could interject furhter (Y/N) had already taken off, nearly flying down the sidewalk as they booked it. With a loud groan Bucky followed after them, slowly and tiredly but at least he was running. 

   “Come on Barnes!” (Y/N) shouted over their shoulder. “Hurry up! I’m the one missing a leg and I’m still running faster than you!” Bucky huffs at a piece of his hair in annoyance, the damn strand smacking against his forehead with each spring of his step. “You and that damn hair!” Bucky focused on (Y/N) to find them walking backwards, looking at Bucky with a satisfied little smirk. “I ought to chop that mane off for you,” 

   “Like I trust you with scissors near my head,” Bucky called back as huffed at the piece again, just barely managing to get to sway to the right. 

   “Oh my god Bucky, my dead grandmother runs faster than you,” Bucky growls a bit, looking back to (Y/N) with a sort of menacing glare. 

   “Oh, did I offend you?” (Y/N)’s smirk only grows with each passing word. “Well in that case- hurry your old ass up, I could run faster than you with no legs at all!” 

   “You want me to run?”

   “Yeah, that’s kinda the point here,” (Y/N) smiles nonchalantly but said smile immediately falls when the supersoldier books it towards them, running faster than he’d ever run in his life. (Y/N) squeals in surprise as they too take off rushing down the pavement in an attempt to get away from the rather menacing looking man but it was too late- Bucky snatched them up by the waist before they could even contemplate running. (Y/N) laughs and flails in Bucky’s embrace, trying to fight the man off but he was having none of that, he squeezed their waist a bit as he nuzzled an already damp forehead against their own neck (It wasn’t doing stretches with Nat, especially when he had only gotten four and a half hours of sleep). “Bucky no! that tickles!” (Y/N) screeched when the supersoldier nuzzled his scruffy face into their neck, the short whiskers tickling them more than a bit. “Put me down you fiend!” (Y/N) laughs as Bucky holds them tighter, making it impossible for escape but luckily Bucky was an understanding guy and he dropped (Y/N), immediately taking off down the path. 

   “Who’s the slow one now?” Bucky shouted over his shoulder as he ran as hard as his legs would take him. 

  “You cheater!” (Y/N) yells as they laugh from a distance, double over as they attempt to catch their breath from the brief moment of tickling. Bucky smirked as he ran around the park, only stopping once his lungs were burning and he’d most likely finished any record time of his or (Y/N)’s. With a heavy sigh Bucky dropped onto a bench, placing his cool metal hand against his burning forehead. 

    Bucky had to have been sitting there for ten minutes by the time (Y/N) came back, panting and sweating just as much as he was. 

   “You- You loser,’ They manage between gasps for air. 

   “I actually think I’m the winner,” 

   “I- hate- you,” (Y/N) pants yet again, a small smile rising to their flushed features. 

   “Would a few cups of coffee remedy that hate?” (Y/N) looks at him skeptically before nodding their head, gulping once again. “Do you need me to carry you to the store?” Bucky asks as he stands up, already feeling better after his ten minute break. 

  “Haha, you’re very funny,” 

  “No, I’m being serious, do you need me to carry you there? You aren’t looking to great,” Bucky notes the heavy rise and fall of their chest, the way their sweat dribbled down their face at an almost alarming pace. 

   “I’m fine,” (Y/N) struggles to breath, “I just haven’t ran that hard in years,” 

   “Why?” Bucky asks as he dares to snake one arm around their waist, the other grappling their arm to hook around his neck. (Y/N) didn’t object, something Bucky was glad for; it wouldn’t have been easy to carry them if they were struggling against his grasp and given how stubborn they were he wouldn’t be surprised if they did do something like that. 

   “I lost my leg 3 years back, recovery wasn’t exactly the easiest for me,” Bucky listens intently as he marches them towards the shop, only a few blocks away from the park. 

   “I understand,” Bucky wiggles his metal fingers against (Y/N)’s side. “Recovery wasn’t easy for me either,” 

   “How’d you- how’d you lose your arm? If you don’t mind me asking,” (Y/N) leans on Bucky a bit, their body using his own as a means of support. 

   “I lost it back during the war,” Bucky supplies, not wishing to go into too much detail about his horrible experience. “What about you?” 

   “My leg was crushed under a metal beam, immediately sliced it clean off,” 

   “Did it hurt?”

   “More than anything,” Bucky bites his lip, only imagining the pain (Y/N) had gone through. Bucky had been knocked out cold when he lost his arm but (Y/N)- (Y/N) had not; they were alive and conscious through it all. “The therapy is what killed me though, I thought I was going to die trying to get my new leg to start working,” Bucky looks at their leg, at the less than par piece of metal and plastic, a piece of junk compared to some of the prosthetics today. 

   “I could have Tony Stark fit you for a new leg,” Bucky murmurs quietly. “If you’d like one, maybe one that moves a little better-” 

   “I wouldn’t want to burden any of you guys like that-” 

   “Nope!” Bucky chirps as he turns them a bit, directing them no longer towards the coffee shop but rather the tall tower that belonged to Tony. “He’d love to work on a new leg for you-” 

   “Bucky, the coffee shop is the other way-” 

   “Clint can make excellent coffee,” 

   “Bucky-” But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore, he was too busy directing (Y/N) towards the tower without it looking like he was abducting them which was a struggle given that they were now trying to break away from him. 

  “Plus Nat can make really good food, it’s gonna be great, I promise,” And with that Bucky pulled (Y/N) into the tower, ignoring the weird looks from all the passerby’s on the street as they surveyed the large man hauling the smaller person into the extravagant tower. 


   “How long have you had this leg?” Tony asks as he surveys the prosthetic, completely ignoring (Y/N)’s rather awkward facial expression. It was evident that they were uncomfortable without their leg, especially in front of someone they didn’t know, and especially in front of one of the most famous people in the world. 

   “3 years,” 

   “3 years and you still have this piece of junk?” (Y/N) winces a bit, Tony’s tone suddenly taking them off guard. “You need an upgrade right away, I could get you one that locks into place, maybe one that attaches to the leg itself, maybe i could design you one like Bucky’s?” Tony gestures to Bucky’s arm, as though (Y/N) had never seen it. 

   “How long would that take?” (Y/N) asks, gnawing on their lip in thought. 

   “Maybe a week or so, not very long, although we would have to wire the leg to your thigh…you’d probably have a really nasty scar for the rest of your life,” 

  “Like me,” Bucky smiles at them gently, hoping his playful words would calm them down just a bit. 

   “Would it hurt?”

   “Not at all, we’ve found much more humane ways of surgery since Buck’s time,” Tony smiles at them, “It would be done in an hour tops,” 

   “I could be there when you woke up, if you’d like me to,” Bucky adds in, hoping his offer would entice (Y/N) to make a choice. 

   “I’d- I’d be okay with that,” (Y/N) finally smiles, an unsure, shaky thing but it was there and that’s all that mattered. 

   “Good!” Tony claps his hands, visibly excited by the news. “We can start on casting your leg right now!” Bucky and (Y/N) both smile at Tony’s excitement as he scurries about the lab, collecting his needed materials. 

   “I can help you with therapy too,” Bucky adds as he slides up beside (Y/N), standing to them closer than he had been before. “That way it’s not as unpleasant as before,” 

   “I’d really like that,” (Y/N) smiles up at Bucky as Tony grabs some drill of some sort. “But you still owe me a few cups of coffee,” Bucky laughs, nodding his head in defeat. 

   “Fine, I’ll buy you your stupid coffee,”

   “You’re the best Barnes,” (Y/N) presses a gentle kiss to the man’s cheek, sending his heart spiraling out of control, spreading a huge blush over his cheeks, and melting his heart on the spot. God- (Y/N) was going to be the death of him and oh how right he had been.  


   It was Tony’s third day of casting and he was starting to get a pretty good shape of (Y/N)’s natural leg, or at least what it once used to be. Working countless hours to create a fully functioning robotic leg wasn’t the most fun thing to do so Tony took up conversing with (Y/N), asking them little question here and there, getting a feel for them. Occasionally Bucky would join in but most of the time he sat beside (Y/N), holding their hand and smiling at them as they talked with Tony. Bucky didn’t know how it had started but suddenly one day he looked down to find (Y/N)’s fingers intertwined with his own, how long they’d been there he didn’t know that either but somehow throughout their little appointment with Tony the two would end up holding each others hand (most adorably as well). 

   “So, how’d you lose the leg?” Tony asks casually as he measures their knee and calf of their good leg, looking for proportions for the robotic leg. 

   “It was crushed by a metal beam,” 

   “Metal beam you say?”

   “I was in D.C. the day those planes came down, or whatever the hell you want to call them, well they hit the ground and unfortunately I was pinned beneath one, cut my leg clean off-” (Y/N) goes on to tell their story more but Bucky wasn’t listening, his ears had stopped working after the word D.C. 

   Bucky now knew why (Y/N) had looked so scared the day he first met them, he was the one to take away their leg, he was the reason they were sitting here now, having a robotic leg fitted for them. 

   “Bucky?” Tony asks softly, placing a gloved hand on the soldier’s knee. “Are you good?” Tony’s eyes held concern for his friend given he knew all about D.C, everyone did in fact, the records were out there for anyone to see and you can bet your bottom dollar Tony was the first one to get his hands on all of shields secrets. 

   “In- In D.C?” Bucky’s voice quivers a bit, his raw emotion starting to take over.

   “Yeah…” (Y/N) eyes him strangely, their hold on his hand tightening just a bit. “Remember those terrorist attacks three years ago?” They weren’t terrorists, it had been Bucky, Bucky was the terrorist. 

   “The plane crushed you?”

   “Just some shrapnel from one of the ships…” 

   “Oh my god,” Bucky sighs shakily as tears blur at his vision. 

   He had always tried to avoid D.C, he didn’t want to think about it or what he had done but now there was a piece of what he did sitting right beside him, holding his hand tightly. 

   “Bucky, what’s wrong?” (Y/N) shifts in their seat, turning to face the quivering man. “What did I say?” 

  “Oh my god (Y/N), I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-” But a sudden sob cut him off, closing his throat as the tears began to roll. “I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god,” 

   “Bucky, what’s wrong? What are you sorry for?” But he couldn’t respond unless it was to curse himself and apologize profusely. 

   “I’m so sorry, It wasn’t my fault, I promise it wasn’t-” (Y/N) suddenly lurches forward, holding Bucky tightly. God- he didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to hold this human being, he didn’t deserve their kindness and concern. He deserved to burn in hell for what he did, he deserved to suffer pain because he took away their ability to walk, he was the one who caused them pain and misery for three years-” 

   “Bucky, it’s okay, it’s okay,” (Y/N)’s soothing voice whispered to him, washing over him like a wave of comfort. “Whatever you did it’s okay,” Bucky sobs a bit as he holds (Y/N) close, nearly pulling them onto his lap with how close they suddenly were. “Can you tell me what you did? Can you tell me why you’re sorry?” 

   “It’s my fault,” Bucky sniffles as he attempts to reign himself in, trying to hold back all of his hatred and shame. “It’s my fault you don’t have a leg,” 

   “Bucky, you’re not making any sense, what are you-” 

   “The ships, I helped take the ships down, if it hadn’t been for me you’d still have both your legs and- and-” Bucky stops once again, biting his lip so hard that he nearly took a chunk of skin out. 

   “Bucky, hey, look at me-” (Y/N) nudged Bucky’s face up with their hands, forcing him to look directly into their eyes. “Whatever you did, it’s not your fault, okay? I’m not mad at you or anything, don’t feel bad, okay?” Bucky sniffles again, too ashamed to look (Y/N) in the eyes for any longer. 

   “You don’t have a leg because of me-” 

   “I don’t care that I don’t have a leg,” (Y/N) mutters, “I don’t care that you think that you’re the reason I’m missing a leg too, and neither should you,” 

   “But (Y/N)-” 

   “No buts Bucky,” 

   “(Y/N), you could be out running and jumping, you could be swimming for fuck’s sake but because I’m a goddamn disgrace-” Bucky stops again, only this time it wasn’t of his own accord. There were no lumps in his throat or tears pooling down his cheeks to stop his words but rather was a pair of lips pressed against his own, silencing him softly yet firmly. 

   (Y/N)’s lips were soft, soft and sweet and nothing Bucky could have ever imagined and holy fuck did he love it. He could kiss their lips all day if they’d let him, he’d savor them, allow their taste to linger on his tongue for days but he didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve to indulge in someone so kind and great as (Y/N). 

   (Y/N) slowly pulls away, letting their lips slowly but surely part from Bucky’s. 

   “But instead I’m here with you, and that’s worth more than any of those things anyways,” (Y/N)’s lips brush against his own with each syllable, sending little shots of pleasure down his spine. “Plus, if you hadn’t taken my leg then who would buy me 3 cups of coffee, hm?” Bucky smiles, chuckling a bit. The sound was watery at best but it was sweet nonetheless. 

   “No one in their right state of mind,” 

   “You got that right,” (Y/N) smiles as they gently nuzzle Bucky’s nose. “Now no more tears, okay?” Bucky nods a bit, wiping away the last of his tears. “And no more of this shaming Bucky stuff, okay?” 

   “Okay,” Bucky whispers, scrunching up his nose as (Y/N) kisses it sweetly. 

   “And after this you’re gonna buy me my coffee, no negotiating there,” Bucky chuckles, his shame and guilt finally starting to ebb away. It was going to take a long time for Bucky to finally feel okay, to actually accept the fact that he had done this to (Y/N) and that (Y/N) was okay with it but he knew he’d get there eventually…perhaps he just needed a bit of coffee and some time to talk. 

~Extended Ending~

   “Bucky,” (Y/N) whispers as they press a series of kisses along his shoulders, slowly but surely waking him up. “Come on Buck, it’s 5:30,” Bucky groaned as he rolled over, throwing an arm over his eyes rather dramatically. 

   “I’m too tired,” 

   “What did I wear you out last night?” There’s a smug tone to (Y/N)’s voice and they no doubt have that stupid smirk on their face like they usually do. “Were we up past your bed time old man?”

   “I swear I’m gonna throw something at you if you don’t stop,” Bucky joked as he peeked at (Y/N) from under his arm, smiling at them softly. 

   “Hm, You’ll have to catch me first to do that,”

   “Is that a challenge?” 

   “I do believe so Mr. Barnes,” 

   “I’m giving you a ten minute head start and I’m still gonna outrun your ass,” Bucky chuckles as he flips back over, snuggling into his bed. “So I suggest you quickly get dressed and get moving,” 

   “Loser buys coffee?” 

   “You bet,” Bucky smirks as (Y/N) jolts out of bed, quickly putting their running clothes on and lacing up their shoes as they stumbled out of the door. Even through the fabric of their leggings Bucky could see the little blue lights of their new prosthetic, the one Tony had given to them only a year prior. That day in the lab felt like years ago, (Y/N) was like that, they made time fly by so fast. A day with them could feel like a lifetime and nothing all at once and Bucky loved it. 

   “Be prepared to lose,” (Y/N) whispers as they lean down, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead before booking it out the door, slamming the apartment door shut behind them. Bucky snuggles into his bed, sighing softly as the sounds of New York buzzed around him and if he listened just close enough he could nearly hear (Y/N) smacking into a wall on their way down. With a satisfied little smirk Bucky buries his face in his pillow, breathing in deeply as his body relaxed. 

   “I’m still gonna outrun their tiny ass,” 

Finn Balor Sex Headcannons

Can we just say a few words about this man. I feel like I need to thank the Gods for this beautiful creation of a human because he is a fucking gift. Like he could fuck me up anytime. And he’s so adorable at the same time like what the fuck?!

@megsjessd99 and @nickysmum1909 are the wonderful ones who requested this!!!

Originally posted by baleesi

- He is another example of the phrase ‘gentleman in the streets, freak in the sheets’. I can’t stress this enough! In public, his hand would always be on your waist or intertwined with you hand but private, the most popular place his hand ends up is down your pants. 

- He would never tell you but he loves waking up in the morning and seeing his abs littered in lovebites. His excuse is always “babe, they’d kill me at work if they saw any marks” but he knows your only reply is “then wear more paint”

- There have been many times where he will walk backstage fresh from his fight and covered in paint, take your hand and drag you off to his dressing room to fuck you. 

- If he is in the mood (he’s almost always in the mood), he will spank you. No joke. He will bend you over his knee or a counter and just spank you. But even when you aren’t having sex, he will walk up to you and slap your ass then walk away as you’re trying to work.

- Usually, he is quite a patient man but when it comes to you, he’s desperate for your touch anywhere. 

- Most definitely has a daddy kink. But he likes it just as much when you call him ‘your prince’.

- He will prefer to go down on you. Not that he doesn’t like you to get him off, it’s that he gets off on you getting off. He will eat you out anywhere in private. 

- You can’t walk into any room in your house without having flashbacks of him fucking you in there, I talking about the garden too. 

- He will always top, or so he’ll say. He lets you top sometimes but that’s only because you’ve actually tied him down so he can’t refuse. 

- When he injured his shoulder, it killed him because he couldn’t get you off as easily. That’s when you stepped up and showed him how good you are at pleasing him and yourself. 

- He will make you beg. He gets off on you practically crying because he’s teasing you so hard. But lemme tell you right now, the begging is worth it. 

- The guy also has a lot of stamina so he can go a hell of a lot of rounds with you. 

- Orgasm ratio with him is 3:1 to you.

anonymous asked:

sorry for being a bother, but do you have any tips for people who lack motivation / inspiration? i have so many ideas in my head, i'm just not sure how to get them down onto paper.

No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong and you’re not a bother! My best advice is to

                                            just do it.
                                                   

☆ There aren’t any rituals or exercises or mental preparations you need to complete beforehand. You just put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard—or whatever—and start recording whatever ideas you have down. Don’t be so concerned with getting it perfect the first time around. Come back to it later, edit later! Make finishing a priority, you’ll feel more accomplished and confident after completing a project (large or small). 

☾ I feel like a lot of young writers are so preoccupied with writing “the right way” that they never get around to actually writing. Or they quit the second they produce something they don’t like. I have news for you: no one produces perfect work all the time. First drafts are often horrendous. See Shitty First Drafts by Anne Lamott (link here). And also: you can often excavate some gems from your older writings, even if you hated them at the time you wrote them. So along with actually writing, I recommend saving all your work!

☆ Turning writing into a habit may help. It works wonders for me. Lately I’ve been averaging 500 words a day—writing 20 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes at night. I make time to write, and believe me when I say it’s possible with a busy schedule! I’m a full time law student and I work, and that takes up much of my day (7am-9pm [14hrs!] which includes the drive/commute). But I figure: 20 minutes in the morning and before bed won’t kill me. Try it if you think you are able! I didn’t think I could at first, but you can accomplish great things when you challenge yourself.

☾ Read widely. Get knowledgeable about lots of different topics. Sometimes you’ll encounter something in your readings that you’ll want to write about, maybe to reflect on your personal relationship with that topic or maybe to try to understand it through writing a fictionalized scene exploring it. Don’t constrain yourself to just poetry and novels. Consider travel guides, encyclopedias, philosophy books, biographies, science websites, etc. I learned so much and got so inspired reading through the 1977 World Books my grandfather got back when my mother was young.

♡ I’ve given writing advice previously various times… the following might also help:

• on not feeling knowledgable enough to write
another post on motivation (from my personal writing blog)
picking up writing after a hiatus
you don’t need writing advice, even if it comes from me
writing advice (2014-Aug. ‘16—also includes tips from other writers on Tumblr)
• writing process tag on my personal writing blog (2017)

Off The Bench     By: Y. Black

It was barely after Christmas and they already had a shit ton of Valentine’s Day decorations and candy strewn about every damn store. I had grown to hate that fabricated holiday. Crazy, because I used to be that guy who would go all out for the day. I was fast approaching the second solemn, lonely February 14th, and the third, technically since I had been ruined. Ruined was quite possibly an understatement but it is what it is. I was madly in love at the time. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done to prove just that, and that day was supposed to be perfect.

I had a decadent outing planned, and I had been waiting on the day for months to be completely honest. I pump faked like I was going to work that day, but in reality, I was putting all the final touches on my master plan. Nothing was going to go awry on this day. We had been together for almost two years and she who shall remain nameless, was my everything. That day was going to solidify my stance as to where she stood in my life and what I wanted with her. I made my rounds that day with the biggest smile in my heart. The rose petals had been laid out all over the suite. I had dropped the chef the key to the suite so there would be no delay. I went and picked up her dress and my suit for the night. Shit was just too perfect. I had headed back to the house to surprise bae about fifteen after the hour of 11. Her first 2 dozen roses should have been delivered about 45 minutes prior to my arrival. I was so wrapped up in my grand scheme that I didn’t even stop to think how she hadn’t hit me up all day. As I pulled up to our apartment, the excitement was bubbling over. I was ready to whisk her away for her massage, facial and all out pampering session.

As I made it upstairs to 603B, butterflies filled me. I was convinced she was going to meet me at the door with the biggest smile and hug. I opened the door and was welcomed with an eerie silence. Maybe she was in the tub soaking, I thought. The only hint I had given her as to the festivities that I had planned was to be prepared to be swept off her feet. The candles were lit, the house smelling like vanilla and a hint of lavender. I checked the mail that was on the counter as I passed the kitchen. I heard her voice from the backroom. I smiled and made my way to her sweet melody. I slowly opened the door leading to our room and did a quick scan of the surroundings. She wasn’t in the bed, so I went to the bathroom. I could tell the water had not too long ago been turned off. The mirror still brandished a thick steam coating along the top. I walked to my side of the bed and saw a set of clothes unfamiliar to me. I looked over to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony and I saw her white robe on the floor. I precariously walked over and pulled the blinds back. What my eyes focused upon ripped my heart out of my chest. She was knelt between his legs on her knees, with a mouthful of him. My body kept me frozen in place. I couldn’t bear to watch her service this random like she had serviced me only hours before. I was in complete shock. A million things ran thru my mind all at once. I wanted to cry, laugh, scream out. Hell, I even thought about my nine in the closet. After what seemed to be an eternity I peeled myself from the glass unbeknownst to either of them. Threw a bag of shit together quick and bounced. I left a note:

Hey Tracey,

I just wanted to let you know that I never had a gift like this. This will be with me for a lifetime, I hope you know. I never would have thought I would be kicked in the dick so hard, let alone by you. You were my queen, the reason the sun rose in the east and set in the west; let me tell it. So quickly everything became nothing. But it was all your choice. At any rate fuck you very much, for everything and clearly nothing.

 

I locked the sliding door just as she began to mount this nigga, and I taped the note to the window. I pushed the blinds back far enough so she could see me. The look on her face was utter disbelief. She tried to hop off but I was out. Fast forward now two, just about three years, here I am approaching damn Valentine’s Day again. The last two have been lackluster and that’s an over statement. I can count on one hand how many dates I had been on since that day. That shit made me hardcore. I had no intention on trying at another relationship. We could kick it here or there, and not on no consistent shit either.

That was until she moved in across the street 4 months or so ago. See, I had moved into the city, and was in apartment C of the brownstone, and I happened to catch her on moving day. She was brown skinned, short cut like Nia on Friday almost, and her smile was brighter than Time Square at midnight. I hadn’t been smitten like this in what felt like ages. I kept my distance and had done so for months. But the what if game in my head had gotten real old. We all know curiosity killed the cat, and I was sure to be the next victim. I was hesitant in my approach. Outside of the moments when we happened to be on our street at the same time, I only caught glimpses of her silhouette on the nights I’d sit on my window seat. After seeing her again one evening, it was then and there that I decided I would take a stab at her the next day. It was a blistering morning but I went thru with my plan anyway. I left the brownstone for work a hair earlier than normal so I could make my first move. I stuck a sticky note on her wind shield.

Hello,

I wish I knew your name. But I find you very attractive and I would really like to get to know you. I know this is different but I’m a bit shy but I had to try something to get your attention.

 

P.S. If you’re interested leave a note back here tomorrow.

 

I wasn’t the least bit confident that I would get a response. But that didn’t stop me from pondering what her possible response would be if she even gave one. I wrestled with myself on if I had even taken the right approach. I kind of felt lame, but I had been out of the game so long, I wasn’t sure if I could just go up and talk to her like that. I wrecked my brain all day about this. I ended up grabbing a drink at the bar up the block on the way home. I threw a few back and made my way in. The liquor in my system took the edge off, which was great. I noticed her car was back in place and the note was no longer on the windshield. I hustled into the house as though if she would have saw me, she would have known I was the mystery man behind the note. I was really trippin’ out. I ordered Chinese and peered out the window a few times, but only to see the very silhouette that had me going thru all this madness. Somewhere in the disarray of my thoughts I managed to slip into a deep slumber. I woke up the next morning unsure whether I should be excited or just await the inevitable. I did my normal routine and headed for the door.  I walked over to the car and saw a return note.

Hello,

I am Machelle, this is certainly odd but I consider myself a deferrer, so why not play along? I too don’t have a name for you. And I will do you one better, I love sports how about you?

 

I looked around 3 minutes too late like I couldn’t already have been made. I darted back across the street and up to my apartment. I had to pen the next note to her, knowing I was probably going to be late to work. But how in the Sam hell could I not respond to her promptly? I scrambled around looking for my note pad and in my haste, I found it on the kitchen counter.

Hello Machelle,

First off, I’m glad and honestly shocked you responded. My name is DePaul. Sports are, were instrumental in my life coming up. I love them. Are you a Knicks or Nets fan? What other things do you fancy?

 

I put the letter in a different spot on the windshield than where she had her note. Hopefully she would notice when she came out this morning. I was eager to get off that afternoon, but I had no clue that I’d have another note waiting for me. She had placed it under the left wiper blade and I had used the right one that morning. I guess that would be our indicator. I surveyed my surroundings before swiping my note and crossing the street. The allure of the entire of the situation had me hyped.

 

Good day,

DePaul huh? I like that. What sport did you play? And I fancy many things but mainly I’m a foodie, I love the beach, and history intrigues me as well. How about you? BTW this whole note thing is just too cute.

 

Hey there,

Aww shucks you like my name. I played baseball and basketball, I dabbled in soccer but that was too much running for too little points. History, what’s your favorite era in time? I like history as well but I am more of a science guy. What kind of music are you into miss lady?

 

We exchanged notes for two weeks, and I was rather content. I mean I wanted her but I wasn’t completely ready to put myself out on the chopping block either. I couldn’t lie to myself by the same token and say I didn’t want to have face to face conversation. See what her scent was like, touch her hand, just be in her presence. I think the all the note passing added to the allure of the whole thing. I just couldn’t bring myself to jump off the cliff yet. I was still window watching and sneaking notes. Then she went silent I didn’t get a note for 3 whole days. I was a bit concerned, I hadn’t seen her from my perch either. I left a note only to find it there when I returned home that day and the same the next morning when I left out. I guess the flame and cute little note game had gotten played out. Shit had me in the dumps on a Friday morning. I spent the entire workday pondering what went wrong. I walked from the subway with the least bit of pep in my step. I merely peered over at the Jag to still see the note I’d left the day before in the same spot. I walked up the stoop, stopping in the corridor to check the mail. Bills on a Friday are the worst. I was thumbing through the mail as I walked to my door when my keys slipped out of my hands and fell to the floor. As I knelt to pick them up I looked at the door realized that an envelope had been taped over the peephole. I quickly snatched it down and rushed inside. As I walked past the kitchen I tossed the other mail on the counter. Breaking the seal, a sweet aroma filled my nostrils. Instantly I knew it was her. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I really didn’t know what to expect.

DePaul,

I have enjoyed our back and forth over the past several weeks. And to be frank, I am beyond intrigued and more than impatient to really get to know you. For that I had to step up the game, let you know I know who you are and I am yours for the taking. I am free on the 14th so we should get together grab a bite of sorts. I’m sure you are going to go to your window… You’re not the only one that has been watching. In fact, I’ve been watching you since I came and looked at my place two months ago. But shhhh… don’t tell anybody. That can be our little secret. But let me know about dinner, call me 646-555-5525. Besides I am ready to hear your voice.

Damn, like for real damn. She put her foot all the way down on me. She put the note on my door, so I knew there was no mistaking the tone. And she slick let me know she knew who I was. That was a turn on. She was going for what she wanted and didn’t have a lick of shame in it. I was too hype to call. My mind was racing on what I could do with her on the 14th of…. Aww damn that’s Valentine’s Day. That fact hit me like a ton of bricks, but by now I am too invested and too intrigued not to push forward. I made my mind up right then and there, I was no longer going to let what happened those years ago, mold my future any longer. I sat on the couch pondering for a few moments. I wanted to peer out of my window but I didn’t want her to see me. It would be just my luck.

I headed to the shower with my mind set ablaze. What would she sound like? Would it be as sweet as she looked? Would our conversation flow like our notes had? Would my pen pal be everything I had spent the last few weeks dreaming about? I wonder if her lips would feel as good as this water felt after a long day of work. I was curious before, but now this was torture. Sitting on the edge of the bed clutching her last note, I was on a cliff, and I wasn’t sure what awaited me. But… I was too far gone to not jump. I dialed the number from the note. I could feel my heart in my throat, as it rang in my ear. At the end of the second chime she answered. It was the sweetest hello I had ever heard. I was stuck, in complete infatuation. The second hello brought me to. Clearing my throat, I reciprocated the pleasantries. We talked for an entire two hours that first night. Everything flowed so well. Two episodes of the Vikings marathon had come and went and yet I was still yearning for more of her. I know I went to sleep with a smile on my face that night.

The 14th was Tuesday, and we had discussed getting together as she suggested. The weekend gave me time to fester in my thoughts. I had already decided we would head to Manhattan to have dinner and a movie at the new dine in cinema. I was dead locked on that one. After that though, I would be at her mercy as she wanted to take me to what she described as a cool dessert spot. I was game for it though. I was just ready to be in her presence. I didn’t bug her over the weekend, though she did call to check up me. Apart of me wanted to kick it with her but I played it cool. Besides, if all went well I would afford myself a plethora of chill time.

Tuesday rolled around and 5 o’clock couldn’t take any longer to arrive. Butterflies had gripped me all day. I rushed out of the door and made my way to the subway station. The date was set for 7. That gave me just the right amount of time to get home, wash the day off, and get spiffy. Had this nice little number I put together, nothing too heavy. This was a light date of sorts, like a getting to know each other kind of thing. Some fresh denim, a black polo, accompanied by a military green bomber that accented my olive Timbs well. By 730 the kid was ready and dressed to impress. I called over and she told me she was ready as well. I told her I would be down waiting on her. I decided Uber would be the best bet. I figured we’d have a couple drinks and what not, so better safe than sorry. Just as she was coming down, the car was pulling up. She came down with jeans and a coat that hid her top, looking like a real around the way girl in her wheats. That look to me was so sexy, thought she probably thought nothing of it.

50 Shades was ok, I feel it could have been better, but it was definitely a good date movie. I had a million questions brewing in my head but I kept it cool. I was trying to remain a gentleman I swear, but in my head I was pondering what turned her on. Was she into any of this? Like the thoughts of her were getting me hot. We hadn’t even mentioned sex in our conversations but it was all that was on my mind at present. I was glad when the movie concluded. Then maybe my rampant mind would take a break. On the way out, our hands found one another.

“So, what did you think?” I probed. I was low key trying to see what piqued her interest as well as gauge how the night may end. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want her the very second she sat next to me in the uber. She smelled of heaven, and I was convinced that it was a place I wanted to go.

“Oh I liked it, but I thought it would be more intense. The way people rave about it, I was expecting more… Maybe I’m just hella freaky.” She didn’t even look up from rummaging in her purse. The uber pulled up as the blank stare and awkward silence gripped my soul.

I let her in on the back-driver side and I walked around to the other side of the car. As I got in the uber driver greeted us and asked us how our night had gone. Turns out she had seen the movie over the weekend. Her eyes lit up as she said she enjoyed it. Machelle couldn’t see her face though. They went back and forth about the movie. My eyes were glued to my date’s lips. The words flowed eloquently from her luscious chops. I felt myself leaning in unable to stop myself. Her eyes found mine, and she halted conversation abruptly. My body had superseded my mind. My mind was on the fence about the reception I would receive, but my body was itching to know what the outcome would be.  Our lips met with a fire hell couldn’t match. Her lips were as soft as my mind had dreamt and they fit upon mine just perfect. We wanted, no needed to know more.

I felt neurons shooting from every part of my frame in every direction. Her hands traveled up the back of my shirt, all but confirming we were in the same book, on the identical page, equivalent paragraph, and sentence.  She bit my bottom lip as my tongue delved into her opening. We traded places as I sucked and nibbled on her lips. We were just heating up, yet the windows were already beginning to glisten with fog from our steamy, passionate kisses. The more we embraced the deeper I fell into her. My hands descended inside the top of her pants and my hands found the top of her plump pussy, and I was shocked to discover we were both free ballin’. It was a nervous thing I did on a first date, don’t judge me. But anticipation gripped me the closer I got to her love center. As I landed home, she clamped down on my lip and we cooed in unison. I was in need of a life jacket. Swimming wasn’t on our original date itinerary, but adjustments would surely be made.

Her moans encouraged my every effort. She sounded of pure passion and love. I knew this was the gateway drug to an addiction of her. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the second note. Mmmm I’ve needed you to touch me.” She cooed to me. This Uber had turned into a really hot episode of taxi cab confessions. My lips found her neck as my fingers dove deeper in her swimming pool and didn’t even realize we had made it back home. Our diver didn’t bother to announce our arrival either. She was playing in her own pool in the front seat. The car was oozing of us, it was euphoric to say the least.  I was ready to get all the way wet. My phalanges found my lips as I was reluctant to pull away.

“Thank you” I uttered to our driver.

“No thank you” she rebutted, cleaning her own fingers. We all chuckled before we exited.

Machelle and I shared a steamy glare as we stood on the sidewalk on her side of the street, then we kissed hard as the car pulled off. I held her tight to me. With a bright flash the skies opened up and the rain began to pour. Machelle turned and bolted up the steps clutching my hand pulling me in tow. I watched what once was a rain drop now a bead of water, run down her caramel glazed skin tone. Before she could unlock and open the door, our tongues met again like fire and water. There was a slight jolt followed by a low moan. She turned the nob and pushed the door open, granting us access.  While I was scanning the room Machelle was fixated on shedding clothes. I was oblivious to it.

“MM..MM” she commanded my attention. My eyes most certainly feasted on her gorgeous frame, still glistening. Her c-cup breast still restrained in her gray lace bra. Her hips were being gripped with the matching thong. I could feel my heart beating fast. I wanted every part of this woman. I slowly made my way over scanning her loveliness. I followed her eyes and I could tell she was undressing me with them. Shirt first, up and over; then I unbuttoned my jeans. My chest met her breast as we embraced. She felt of satin to me. It was completely mesmerizing. My hands traced her outline. She felt perfect.

“I wanna taste you” She said, pushing me on to the sofa. I offered no objections. She kneeled before me taking my dick between her lips. Her tongue toyed with my head, before she descended my shaft. She was so gorgeous with my meat in her mouth. Her light brown eyes peered into my dark ones. Slurping she found an up and down rhythm, making me head fall back onto the sofa.

“Shit!” I murmured. She was giving me that work. Taking my dick out she slapped her cheek. She was revealing her monstrous ways the more she delved into me. I don’t know if she was trying to come out the gate and one up me, or was this just her normal lip service. But she was about to have me on the ropes in a second. I guided her head up and my shit left her mouth with a loud pop. She was ravenous on the rod. I gave her a look like, you mother fucker you. She blushed and quickly put on a devilish grin. I opted to not release my own beastly way upon her. I figured I would spring up on her at a less suspecting time. I reached down to my jeans that were around my ankles. I lifted a condom from the back pocket. I slid it down my still soaking member. Machelle straddled me, split her entrance on my pole. Condom on and all, I could feel the tsunami her lips were staving off. She nestled atop me, and proceeded to find a rhythm. My hands continued to roam her curves. Her gorgeous breast dangled just out of reach. Gripping her ass, I leaned up and sucked one of her protruding nipples into my mouth. She moaned deep and threw her head back, never breaking pace. Her pussy was gripping me with every up stroke.

She rode me like a champion, But I was ready to put my mark on her. The way her hips rolled on my dick was tantalizing. Her pretty breast dangled and bounced in front of me. Teasing my lips each time they swooshed passed my mouth. I was ready to put in work of my own. Machelle probably thought my bashfulness would translate to the bedroom but I was anything but in that arena. I wrapped my arms around her and stood up. Naturally her legs locked around me. I flexed my strength as I gave her that up stroke. She was game, sinking her teeth into my neck. Little did she know she was feeding the beast. Any more she would be unlatching the cage that contained it. Her nails dug in to the curve of my back. The passion was unreal. It was as if the more I pushed the more she grabbed and vice versa. You ever get intimate with someone, and know you made the right choice and know this is the start of something amazing. This was that, to the 10th power. I never felt so connected, so passionate, so beastly… all at one time. I wanted to passionately give her me but in the same sentence I wanted to bend her over, grip her by the throat and an ass cheek and punish her good ass pussy. I kept my composure though, at least for the moment. I couldn’t blow the top off of her imagination on the first go round. Not sure she could handle that. But she was fucking me like she wanted to take it there. She was fucking back with raw passion in her eyes.

I let her dismount me, and she posted up on the couch and pointed that gorgeous ass at me. It was swaying from side to side in slow motion. In reality, it was swishing back and forth rather quick. I was so gone I was watching each ripple as her ass moved about. She rocked back into my stiffness, she was so wet I slid in like a butter knife in warm butter. I didn’t move initially, I let her bounce that pretty ass on me. I could feel the cage become more unhinged. The better me knew I should have walked away. But she kept me entranced with her silky smoothness. I grabbed her hips, halting her movements. She looked back at me over her shoulder.

“Damn baby, I want more. Please can I have more daddy?” Her tone shot straight through me. It snatched the lock right off the cage.

“Fuck” I muttered to myself. I knew the tides would change rapidly in the next few moments. It was like the harder I pulled the harder she pushed. I halted my movement, as a last ditch effort to hold back. She probably was of the impression she had me on the ropes. But, she was wrong. Machelle flashed a sexy grin at me over her shoulder, then she started to twerk on my dick like it was her finishing move. Shit was driving me wild, and in essence she was only inching closer to my on-switch. She threw her head back and magically my hand grabbed a fist full of her curly locks. She let out a loud gasp as I matched her buck with my thrust. She wasn’t ready, and I had no cares. She brought this upon herself. Her ass was no longer coming back with the same determination as it once had. I pulled her up closer to my frame, gripping her titty and squeezing her nipple at the same time. Her muffled moans were getting harder to contain. In the madness my hand left her hair and moved towards her throat. As I gave her neck a gentle squeeze, I felt her pussy clench upon me as she found her release; with it came a screeching moan that I’m sure could have been heard from my place. I was poised to fill this rubber up. I get off on reactions and lawd she touched my soul in that moment. I pounded that pussy out until I came hard and fast. With a loud growl I spilled my cum all inside her soaking wet, hot kitty, and we collapsed in euphoria. We lay there sprawled out and panting.

“Machelle???” I managed between breaths. She just looked at me, unable to form words as of yet. “Machelle, you wanna be my girlfriend?”

queen | m

Originally posted by mvssmedia


Originally posted by bbcblackjack

◇ A queen must always prepared to do anything she needed to do in order to keep her kingdom thriving and growing. Anything.

◇ Himchan x reader x Yongguk

◇ plussized!reader

◇ mafia!au / crime!au ◇ requested by @smutfictionaddicted / @writings-by-cl; Hey Ali, so glad your requests are open! Can I please request some Himcham and/or Yongguk (BAP) smut (can have other story genres and any plot you want)? If possible (optional) could the OC be plus size (don’t need to, tho)? I’ll understand if you won’t accept this request, it’s kind of specific… Thanks so much, have a lovely day/night! Love, CL 💋 (from @smutfictionaddicted) PS: love your blog so much!

◇ aaaaaaaaaaa omg thank you for requesting bc im such a big fan and youre so cute im???? This was an honour tbh i hope i did this request justice… also, so no one’s confused; basically people think the mayor rules the whole city but the mayor and his people are corrupt and basically the whole city belongs to reader, himchan and yongguk — he only controls a tiny area — but no one knows.

•••

You woke up early, surrounded by lavish Egyptian cotton sheets and the scent of fresh lavender. The sun was high in the sky, the sound of birds chirping managing to reach you through your French balcony doors on the 98th floor of the most prestigious apartment block in the whole city.

The First Sector was only beginning to wake at the time, but already the streets were beginning to fill with people and taxis. Not as much as the central city, you were sure, because work never full started around here until 9.

A fluffy bathrobe was slipped over your full figure, the marble floors cold against your perfectly manicured toes as you patter to the bathroom and begin to fill a bath of crystal water and pearlescent bubbles. You were glad to have woken earlier than you usually did; maybe you’d have time for a walk or a coffee shop breakfast before you were rushed to work. It would be nice to relax today — especially because of the events that were to take place tonight.

The only sound heard throughout your apartment is the slump of your bathrobe into a fluffy heap on the floor, looking not unlike the cotton ball clouds outside your window. Carefully, you place one leg into the bath to test the water, and seeing as the temperature was just right, you fully submerge yourself in the warm water, letting your eyes flutter shut in relaxation.

Only a minute later does the silence get stiffling, and you reach a hand over to the wall to search for a song in the built in speaker system. Your breath comes out in a satisfied sigh as one of your favorites begins to play, the hum of violins and tinkering of piano letting your worries trickle from your brain.

•••

Autumn had always been your favourite season. Whether it was fashion-wise, or simply the atmosphere (there was always an air of excitement, and paired with the sunset shades of leaves falling from the trees and the permanent smell of bonfires in the air, it always calmed the most negative of moods), you didn’t know.

You inhale deeply, burrowing your hands deeper into the pockets of your coat. Your breath forms a swirling cloud of heat in front of you, and the child in you continues to exhale heavily to create more. The First Sector is almost fully functioning by now; there are cars everywhere and people bustling on the streets, all dressed fashionably as they pass between designer store to designer store.

You enter a Starbucks on the main street, the comforting smell of coffee and sugar invading your nose and almost instantly making you happier. It had been a while since you had had enough time to yourself to actually sit in a cafè and have a cappuccino or a slice of cake. It was all worth it though, you guess, watching as a small child and his mother walk in, the child smiling brightly and looking over the delicious cases of dessert displayed in front of him. The people deserved it.

You sigh, turning your head and peering out the window beside your table. Passed the main road sat the park, and from your seat you could see the playground; a shock of blues, reds and greens in an orangey-brown pool of colour. A child runs from the end of the slide to the start again, and even from where you were positioned you could see the joyful grin on her face.

She laughs as she slides down the slide once again, but instead of running once again to the beginning, she runs into the arms of a man who you can only guess is her father. She’s swung around, and then hugged tightly before she’s placed on the ground again.

What would it be like, you wonder in amusement, wistfulness creeping up on the tone of the voice in your head, to be so blissfully ignorant? To spend your days living in the best part of the city with the only responsibilities being paying rent and putting food on the table?

With a tired sigh, you turn your gaze from the window and back to the coffee in front of you. Thinking like that is dangerous in your line of work — thinking like that has gotten people killed.

But, you add quietly, as if someone could hear your thoughts, if only they knew about the dirty work that was put towards keeping their home squeaky clean.

•••

The walk to your workplace is shorter than you’d like, but you figure it’s because you’re well aware that the freedom you’d experienced this morning was never going to reappear any time soon.

Your building is on the main street of the First Sector; situated between a bank and the main road, made of glass and metal that formed a modern yet elegant frame. You operated under the cover of a shell company called Boulevard, and to anyone who wasn’t well informed, they would think that the building belonged to a company that specialised in insurance.

Couldn’t be further from the truth, really.

When you enter the building you’re eternally grateful to have woken up early and to have been able to go and get a breath of fresh air; as soon as you enter you hole yourself up in your study and immerse yourself in the numerous papers and documents that needed looking over.

Your workload was increasing with every day, and only because of one decision. You ruled the First Sector, one of the four sectors of the city. The Mayor that had been elected by the people — being the more politically powerful of all 4 rulers — had decided to decrease your territory — for what, you had no idea, but it seemed to give people the idea that you must be too weak to control the large area you controlled. This just happened to be the sole reason for the event taking place tonight.

It was a pity that most people were unaware of your power. Maybe then, they wouldn’t be so stupid and get themselves killed.

It was exactly 3PM when one of your workers entered, dressed in suit and tie, as per usual. He stands in front of your desk, hands behind his back and eyes trained above you. He, like almost every person you employed, had learned how to respect you — you made every person you encountered aware of the power you held and the limits you would go to.

“Permission to take out Secretary Zhang, mistress.”

You inhale slowly, running his words over in your head. In a matter of seconds, you went over every consequence and award the killing of the Mayor’s secretary would present. This was your job — very few people could make the decisions you make and live to tell the tale.

On one hand, the Mayor’s secretary was the most conniving, devilish, twisting woman you’d come across this far into your life. She was slowly yet surely worming her way into the Mayor’s head, and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was really her calling the shots.

On the other hand, the Mayor was infatuated with her. Despite the fact that he was married, it was obvious that his relationship with his secretary wasn’t strictly platonic, and with the recent turn of events, her death would immediately be linked to you. But you take into account that the Mayor is more frightened of you than not, and that his personality is weak and easily persuaded.

“Accepted, and with pleasure,” you finally say, a smile tugging at your features. “And do be quick, would you?”

He bows his head. “Yes, mistress.”

And just like that, the decision is made and he’s gone. At least you’ve gotten Secretary Zhang out of your hair. You feel slightly more at ease as you go back to looking through documents and accepting or denying the requests of every worker that comes to see you.

Drug exchange, 3:37 today at Avensbrooke Burrow.

Intercept and arrest every soul at the scene. Deliver the produce to Yongguk — tell him to consider it a… gift. A gift towards upholding the peace.

Multiple stocks of arms and ammunition have been found, mistress.

Keep half. The other half goes to Himchan. Tell him that he doesn’t owe me this time, would you?

You only pull yourself away from your work when the sky begins to dim, fading from its bright, cerulean blue to an inky indigo, illuminated by the white windows and street lamps of light. The clock above your door reads 7:30, and you realise with a start that you have to get ready for the gala tonight.

It was a gala auction, technically. The richest people in the country would be coming from near and far to gamble their money for antiques and precious items — but of course, that was only the cover up. The gala auction was taking place, of course, but the most important and suspenseful event of the night happened behind closed doors, away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths.

So you pack up from the night, assigning some paperwork to a passing employee and making your way to your home again.

When you return home you’re immediately greeted by your maid-of-sorts; her name is Chaeyoung, and she’s the same age as you, and the only reason you hired her was because you’d seen her fashion sketches and she needed to get into college. She never really cleaned or cooked — even though, technically, that was her job — but she had become more than a maid to you, and you would happily call her your sister if need be.

“Go, go!” She shooed you into your room, pulling earrings and chokers out to accompany the dress laid out on your bed, “Did you have a bath today? Oh, of course you did, I can smell those fancy bath oils on you—”

You barely have time to breath properly before she’s shoving the dress into your arms, gesturing for you to slip it on while she finds you some shoes.

A flurry of outfit changes and an hour later, you’re in your completed attire; a sleek, red, sweetheart-neckline dress that reveals just a sliver of your skin through the slit on its side, gliding over the soft curves of your stomach and sides; a pair of black pumps with high, chunky heels; a golden choker embellished with diamonds and earrings to match. Your hair is pulled up out of your face, and the makeup is kept minimal. You didn’t need much to blow people away.

“You’re not gonna take anything?” Chaeyoung frowns as you slip your phone into the black clutch in your hand. “What, no knife? No gun? Not even pepper spray?”

“I don’t need weapons,” you answer with a sigh as you stand, texting your chauffeur to bring your car around the front. “I always have people watching, Chae. You should know that by now — saves me from getting my hands dirty.”

“But still—”

“I’ll be fine,” you smile gently, patting her head comfortingly. She walks with you to the door, a pout on her face. “You can stay the night, if you want — I’ll be back pretty late.”

She only nods, and you shoot her one last smile before you’re out the door, taking the elevator down to the sumptuous foyer and strutting out like you owned the place — which, coincidentally, you did. You didn’t offer the bell boy and the receptionist more than a delicate smirk; you were getting into character.

Your chauffeur greets you with a small nod, opening the door to the black Jaguar XJ and waiting for you to slip in before he shuts the door gracefully, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car up.

The journey to the National Museum was smooth and quiet. Luckily, the meeting would take place in the First Sector, which calmed your nerves the tiniest bit — you would be familiar with your surroundings, and that made you even more compelling than usual.

You stared out the window as you were driven, taking in the empire that you built from the ground up. You remembered when this was the most run-down area of the whole city; but now, the buildings were tall and modern, lit by sparkling lights. The streets were clean and still very much busy, even at this time. And to think, you chuckle, the Mayor is trying to take that away from me. Over your dead body.

By the time you pull up outside the museum, you’re fully in character and prepared to do what you have to do. The chauffeur opens your door and waits patiently as you step outside, rolling your shoulders back and taking in the tall building before you. Numerous people, all dressed as highly as you are, are entering the building, some loitering outside to be caught by the paparazzi. You don’t bother with them.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” You exhale, before you begin to walk up the front steps of the museum.

•••

The soft sound of classical music plays from the orchestra positioned beside the auction stage. It’s a lavish affair; waiters floating between the crowds with golden trays of white wine and champagne, the richest, most important people conversing between themselves, fake laughs and careful words, and, when they think nobody’s looking, a disdainful and narcissistic silent scoff at the person in front of them.

It isn’t hard to figure out where you’re supposed to be. You slip through the crowds, earning side glances and amazed stares and even appreciative looks at your body from the more… let’s say scandalous people present.

You take a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, not stopping your pace as you disappear from the throngs of people and into a less populated hallway to the left of the main venue. There are still a few stragglers, mainly drunk or seeking privacy — but as you delve deeper into the deserted museum, a few floors up from the ground, and there is no sign of anybody but yourself, you come across a room that’s guarded by two bulky men dressed in black. Himchan’s men, no doubt.

They say nothing as you take a small sip of your champagne, but as you come to a stop in front of them, the one on the left greets you with a deep bow and a murmur of, “Miss.”

The heavy ornate oak door is opened, revealing a room decorated with expensive antique furniture. The door is on the left side of the room, and opposite is a floor-to-ceiling window that gave a mind blowing view of your Sector — and standing in front of the window, taking in the view, were the men you were there to see.

“Boys,” you greet, a smirk painted on your lips as you bring your flute to them again. They turn slightly, drinking up your image. “Enjoying the view, I take it?”

“Of course,” Yongguk answers first, voice deep and smooth like usual. He takes a hold of one of your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of it, his dark hair flopping over his even darker hair.

“Beautiful as usual, ____,” Himchan comments, only placing a firm hand on your waist in greeting. His own glass of champagne is almost empty, and you suggest that they sit around the glass coffee table with you to fill up their glasses and discuss business.

“So,” Yongguk exhales, leaning backwards comfortably. His eyes focus on you, head tilted to the side as he takes his first drink of the alcohol in his glass, “You wanna tell me why I received multiple kilos of drugs at my HQ earlier?”

Himchan allows his lip to quirk up at the side, eyes lazily drifting over to you too. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to buy our cooperation, ____.”

You offer him a cheeky grin. “Never.”

“The multiple stocks of arms and ammunition delivered to my doorstep say otherwise, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You inhale, swirling the champagne in your glass before you stand, strolling back to the window. You hear the sound of their footsteps as they follow you; Himchan on your right, Yongguk on your left.

“Do you remember when I inherited the First Sector from my father?” You ask, the tone of your voice a mixture of nostalgic and serious. It was time for business.

“How could we forget?” Yongguk murmurs.

“You’ve come a long way,” Himchan adds quietly. You allow the ghost of a smile to spill over your lips.

“I built this place from the dirt up,” you agree, downing the last of your drink. “I made this place thrive. And now, the Mayor’s trying to take that away from me.”

Yongguk and Himchan show no reaction of surprise or immediate indignation, and you guess it’s because they’ve already been informed of your situation. Their eyes stay trained on the skyline.

“What do you need us to do?” Yongguk says a minute later, turning his body to face you. Himchan doesn’t object to his inclusion in the matter, and turns towards you too.

“I need support,” you answer, finally meeting their eyes. “The Mayor can’t deny anything I want when he’s against all three of us.”

Yongguk sighs, before he nods. “You have my full support, ____.”

Himchan remains silent, only giving his own nod in response as Yongguk finishes his drink and returns to the coffee table to refill, leaving you and Himchan alone.

“Now that business is over,” Himchan begins, a devilish smile tugging at his lips, “You don’t mind me complimenting you again, do you, sweetheart?”

“Not at all.”

“Because this dress—” he inhales, a hand looping around your waist and tugging you closer— “Is driving me crazy.” He bites his lip, his other hand travelling across the shape of your hips and the swell of your behind, drawing a shock of laughter from you.

“You know, Himchan,” you tease, drawing your lips closer to his neck, feeling his grip tighten on your waist, “I don’t think Yongguk or the National Museum would appreciate us fucking in this room.”

“I have a feeling that Yongguk wouldn’t particularly mind,” Himchan whispers as you draw back, lips inches apart — his words make you instinctively glance over to where the leader of the Second Sector is lounging; the dark eyes watching the pair of you makes you visibly shiver, and Himchan chuckles.

“Why don’t you go and keep him company?” Himchan suggests, voice a mere whisper in your ear. The assertive seductress in you is tugging the leash on your neck and telling you to not even move, but the breathy submissive that you had hidden deep inside of you was choosing the worst time to emerge.

You still manage to keep the sexiness in your stride as you saunter towards Yongguk, the smile growing on your face with every click of your heels against the floor.

“Ggukie,” you coo teasingly, watching as his jaw clenches and his brows knit together. The patronisation was purely to irritate him, because despite his job, it was well known that Bang Yongguk was a gentle soul. You didn’t need gentle tonight.

He sits back, drinking in your figure as you hike your dress up to your hips in order to straddle him easily. You can feel the heaviness of Himchan’s stare on you, on how Yongguk’s hands grasp your hips naturally — but Yongguk’s eyes are only on yours.

Slowly, just to wind him up, you draw your lips closer to his, feeling his breaths against your face before you finally close the gap between you two.

You’re uncertain, at first. You don’t know if you’ve made the right choice in doing this because the air has completely stilled and it feels as if years have passed before Yongguk moves his lips against yours, taking the lead straight away. A soft moan is drawn from your throat as Yongguk presses a hand to the back of your head, holding you against him so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

You restrain a jump when you feel cold hands on your shoulders, goosebumps following every touch placed on your skin. Himchan’s hands brush appreciatively over the soft curves of your shoulders, down the expanse of your back until his fingers caught the zipper of your dress.

In the mean time, Yongguk must sense that you’re getting distracted by Himchan’s hands, and decides to avert your attention back to him by dropping a hand to squeeze at your thick thighs, veering towards the lacy fabric of your panties. Chaeyoung’s choice — you had scoffed at her for making you wear lingerie (even if it was only underwear), but you didn’t regret it now.

The cold air makes your skin tingle, and with every inch of skin revealed with the unzipping of your dress, you become more and more excited, impatient to get friction where you need it most. You tear your lips from Yongguk with difficulty, standing to slip the rest of your dress off — you hear a low whistle come from Yongguk, and the sharp inhalation of breath from behind you is an equally as good sign.

“Fuck,” Himchan mutters softly, pressing his chest against your back, snaking his arms to your front and drifting his hands from the soft bulge of your stomach to the roundness of your breasts. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

“I know,” you answer cheekily, “But I can’t help but feel a little left out, you know. You’re both looking awfully overdressed.”

You drag yourself from his embrace and sit yourself opposite Yongguk, on an expensive piece of furniture that you’d surely be replacing for the museum tomorrow. “I’d appreciate if you’d both shed some?”

Yongguk shakes his head at your attitude but he contradicts his actions with the smile on his face, standing from the couch and throwing his suit jacket behind him. He barely unbuttons his shirt — only till his toned chest can clearly be seen — and busies himself with kneeling in front of you, dragging his thumbs over your knees and pressing kisses to your calves.

“Who would want to do that when you’re sitting here like this?” He raises an eyebrow, words muffled against your skin. In a matter of seconds, he’s grabbing your knees and pulling them apart, revealing your covered pussy. He doesn’t waste any time; your breath is wrenched from your lungs as he suddenly presses a hard thumb to your clit, pushing the lacy fabric into the bundle of nerves and using the underwear to his advantage.

He doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips against his touch, breathy pants filling the room and the pulsating burning in your lower stomach growing with every passing second. You almost can’t believe that Yongguk’s about to make you cum — and only from a finger on your clit through your underwear.

As if sensing your thoughts, he pushes your underwear aside so quickly you can barely register it; a swipe of his thumb at your entrance lubricates the digit enough for him to roll it against your clit, and as you sense your orgasm nearing you can’t help but bring a hand up to pinch and roll your nipple between your fingers. The collective sensations have you throwing your head back, your hips bucking and toes curling—

“Fuck, Ggukie—” Your gasp is cut short with the onslaught of pure white that your orgasm brings, pussy spasming and pulsating, hips rolling and riding you through the powerful sensation. Your breath is short and your eyebrows are furrowed and you’re sure that Yongguk’s ministrations have caused you to positively soak yourself with arousal — but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Your eyes only flutter open a minute later when the last shocks of your orgasm wear away, instinctively catching Yongguk’s eyes. He has the nerve to smirk before he stands, his thumb slipping into his mouth to taste your arousal.

“She taste good?” In the flurry of movement you had almost forgotten about Himchan. While you were busy with Yongguk he had shed his suit jacket, too, but had unbuttoned his shirt fully and now stood in front of you beside Yongguk, champagne lifted to his lips and hand in his pocket. With any two other people, you would’ve felt cornered, trapped — but you’ve grown strangely comfortable with the boys that their close proximity doesn’t bother you.

“Delicious,” Yongguk answers, eyes still on you. They don’t make any move to rejoin you on the couch, watching as your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. Impatience courses through you as another minute passes and they continue to admire your body.

“I’m getting tired of waiting,” you groan, throwing your head back. You loop your fingers through your underwear and begin to drag the offending lace down your smooth legs. “Somebody come and do something…”

Himchan exhales a small laugh, setting the glass he was finished with back on the coffee table, and sits himself beside you. A few pats on his lap is all it take for you to turn and straddle his hips, shivering at the feeling of his bulge pressing against your sensitive pussy.

In seconds, Himchan has undone his dress pants enough to remove his cock from his briefs; and, mouth almost watering, you’re quick to grasp him in your hands, your touch cold against the warmth of his cock and extracting a groan from the man’s mouth.

“I thought you were tired of waiting?” Himchan muses, though his eyes are focused on the movement of your hands up and down his length.

You allow a sound of agreement to fall passed your lips, shoulders shrugging before you decide to get to the main event — you raise your hips up, running the tip of his cock along your slit with a sigh of pleasure before you begin to sink down on him, your walls burning slightly with the stretch. It had been a while.

You’re clenching around Himchan uncontrollably when you bottom out. He’s more thick than he is long, and your breath has become heavy with the effort of not moaning out at the fullness.

“Come on,” he grunts softly, rocking his hips against yours to start your pace. He places a hand on your hip, the other squeezing your breasts, “Get going.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you whine internally as you begin to move, alternating between slow, powerful grinds and short bounces but managing to keep a steady pace. The feeling of him sliding against your quivering walls, every inch of him sending your heart palpitating and mind fuzzy, was almost overpowering.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Himchan groans, removing the hand from your breasts and making you cry out when it begins to rub erratically against your clit. “There we go…”

You don’t bother holding any sound back, then: every gasp, every pant and cry, every moan and groan and grunt and whine fills the room, fueling Himchan’s desire and making his mouth fill with similar grunts. Your fingers dig into the back of the armchair you’re sitting on, your eyes clenched shut.

But the sound of movement not coming from you or Himchan compels you to open your eyes, and you come face to face — or, well face to crotch — with Bang Yongguk.

You manage a tired yet devious smile. “F-feeling — a-ah! — left o-out?”

“I see the attitude never leaves,” Yongguk murmurs, unzipping his pants and removing his cock from his briefs. He begins to pump his length, only centimetres away from your mouth, running his thumb over the slit and smoothing his precum over the head — and then, when he decides you’re ready, he grabs your chin, steadying you enough to sink your mouth onto his cock.

You begin to grind your hips faster and faster, while simultaneously focusing on running your tongue on the underside of Yongguk’s cock, bringing a shaky hand up from the back of the armchair to pump the remainder of his length that you couldn’t swallow.

Every sound you make vibrates onto his cock, and by the deep groans that are falling from his lips, you’d say he enjoyed the sensation — you point your tongue, rubbing it into his slit and pumping him faster and faster — the burning, electrifying pleasure that’s tingling through your entire body becomes stronger and stronger with every push of Himchan’s cock into your pussy and every grind of his thumb against your clit—

“Y-yes — Oh - Oh, my God—!” You let out a final shaky gasp when your orgasm hits you. Your limbs feel weak with pleasure and your lungs aren’t filling with air and everywhere is tingling and your pussy is clenching and pulsating around Himchan. The man in question has his eyes trained on your face, jaw clenched at the combined sight of your pleasure-filled face and the feeling of your walls massaging his length—

His hips thrust into you even when he cums, spilling himself into you and pressing his fingers into your waist. You’d surely be bruised tomorrow, but for the moment your attention is purely focused on making Yongguk spurt his cum onto your tongue.

“Come on,” you mumble against him, looking at him through your lashes. Your hand speeds up, twisting and tightening around him until he cums, a long, drawn-out groan filling the room and his cum filling your mouth.

You continue to pump him until you’re sure you’ve completely drained him, and swallow the white liquid that was deposited in your mouth with a happy hum.

Heavy breathing follows in the minutes after you’ve all finished. Tiredness is ebbing at your mind but you manage to pull yourself off of Himchan, wincing at the feeling of his cum beginning to trickle from your pussy and onto your thighs.

Luckily their had been napkins delivered with the champagne on the table, and you’re quick to clean yourself up while Yongguk and Himchan collapse on the armchairs, eyes closed and chests rising and falling heavily with exhaustion.

And when they open their eyes not more than 10 minutes later, they’re confronted by an empty room — you’re gone, and the only thing that assures them of their previous escapades is the napkin on the table with a red kiss planted on the corner.

You’re halfway across the First Sector when they wake up, tired yet victorious. You had secured the expansion of your kingdom, no matter the cost.

After all, a queen must always prepared to do anything she needed to do in order to keep her kingdom thriving and growing. Anything.

Walter Strickler: AKA A Number on Jim’s Speed Dial

AKA: Strickler’s hatred for human technology is quickly rectified by the amazing advances that the cell phone has brought him.

AKA: Family group chat.


So sue me. I want to see Walter Strickler called when Jim is stuck. When he’s in the world of the trolls with no help or aid. When he’s bleeding, trapped, sick. And he knows calling his mother would be no help.

So sue me. I want to know how that call would go.

So sue me. I want to see Jim collapsing at home, because he was cut by a creature with poisonous barbs and never thought to tell his mother. Because Strickler actually knows how to help him. Because even after he’s doing better, Strickler insists they all stay up together, and they sit on the cold bathroom floor playing monopoly to pass the time, waiting to see if the poison has set or if Jim will be better by the morning (he will be. but god the lectures might kill him again).

So sue me, I want to see Walt calling Jim with technilogical questions because how does this thing work, your friends make it look so easy!

So sue me. I want to see Jim giving Strickler his number because he trusts him, even if he might not say it out loud.

So sue me. I want to see Jim edit Strickler’s phone number and retype “dad” into the vacant box.

So sue me. I want to see Strickler texting one Jim throughout the day. Good luck on the test. I packed your favorite for lunch. Don’t tell your mother, but I replaced the fridge. What does LOL mean?

So sue me. I want Strickler to learn what emoticons are. And I want him to use ones that are completely inappropriate for the situation at hand.

So sue me if I want them to have a family group chat where they actively nag each other with odd nicknames and funny jokes. Where these nerds are broken and dysfunctional, but god, they’re so happy.

So sue me. I want Strickler, the Changeling, to have a happy family. One that he invaded. But one that is all his.


Jim: Hey, just checking in!

Strickler: ?

Jim: The big exhibit was today! Mom and I are coming to the opening tonight.

Strickler: You remembered that, and yet you can’t remember the simple facts I gave you in my class.

Jim: Of course.

Jim: Those were boring.

Strickler: >:(

Barbara: Can’t wait for tonight!

Strickler: Wear that new dress. You look edible in it.

Barbara: Darling!

Jim: Ew. Stop. You guys are gross.

Strickler: And you’re weak willed.

Jim: Teachers looking. Gotta run.

Barbara: Bye sweetie. See you tonight.

Jim: Bye mom.

Jim:

Jim: bye dad.

Strickler: [has signed off]

(he had to sit in his office and breathe into a paper bag for about ten minutes to regain his sense of self. it didn’t work. he’s still flustered and pleased as hell.)

(he loves his weird family.)

Night Falls: Chapter 18

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: After witnessing a murder, Y/N becomes a protected witness to FBI Agent Dean Winchester, who needs her help to do more than just solve one man’s murder.

Word Count: 5,284

Gif:

A/N: Gird your lions, friends. I have a feeling you don’t know what’s coming. 

Wanna be tagged? Shot  @attractiverandomness a note and a “thank you” for being my tag master savior!

Night Falls Master List


You had decided to call it an early night that night, not wanting to face Dean any more than you had to. 

You got it. It was his job to protect you, and he wasn’t doing that when he was busy doing you. But if he was mad at himself, then that was his own problem, not yours. 

When he didn’t want you, sure, it made your chest tighten but you weren’t going to push him, risking what you thought would be further embarrassment. No one made him rush up those stairs after you and pin you against your door. He made that choice–whether good or bad–and he had to live with it.

And for Christ’s sake, it was sex. It wasn’t like you two had killed anyone. And no one had showed up to kill you, so all was fine.

Or so you thought.

Dean was gone by the time you woke up the next morning, and when Cas arrived for his night shift, he showed up with a new partner–Benjamin–a man older than Cas with ashy skin and graying hair. He spoke quietly but with surety, and when you asked Cas where Dean was, you were informed that he was working overtime at the bureau getting ready for the trial on Monday, making sure all necessary precautions were in place.

Sure.

Not that you doubted that, but Cas had no idea that Dean was clearly trying to avoid you. 

It made your jaw clench and head shake. For the first time since it happened, you actually regretted sleeping with him. What had been such a great moment was squashed and destroyed by the fact that Dean didn’t want to even see you anymore. 

You should never have made a move. You should have let things be. Sure, he finished it, but you had started it, and clearly that was a mistake. Because whatever it was that seemed to be growing between you two was now dead. 

The saving grace to it all was that the trial was quickly approaching and this would all be over soon, and you would never have to see him again. 

But as the weekend rolled on, there was a constant a sense of dread in your stomach. Reality had finally set in about what would happen Monday morning as Cas explained protocols–from the moment you left this house, until you were on the stand, you would be in a bulletproof vest with the bold FBI letters stitched across it. Before you even arrived to the courthouse, you would change cars, and do so again once you left, making sure that you weren’t being followed. While waiting to give your testimony, there would be several FBI agents escorting you around the courthouse. There would even be several female agents around so that you were never alone, not even in the bathroom. 

By Sunday night, you were mere hours away from seeing Zazel again and being put on the stand. You forced yourself to replay the night in the parking garage, and the day at the flee market, remembering exactly what got you into this mess so that you could end it once and for all. You tried to once again find that fire that had burned inside you, the rage towards Zazel for ruining your life that helped you hold your head high and your will steel, but as the hours ticked by, your determination was waning.

You briefly wondered if Crowley would be there, but you doubted it. Though you had no idea what he looked like, you assumed the FBI did–but what if they didn’t? What if he sat in court as an unassuming spectator? What if he finally saw the woman who was threatening his empire–helping the man that had been trying to take him down since the moment his mother was murdered? Would he try anything? Or just stare you down while you were none the wiser?

You really didn’t know much about Crowley, though you knew enough by now that you were going to be challenging a man who had been spending the last three decades building a criminal empire that hadn’t been challenged until now. 

Way to put a fucking target on your back.

There was still no guarantee that once the trial was over, and Zazel was-assuming–found guilty, that you would be able to return to your normal life. There was no promise that just because you finally held up your end of the deal, that you would get the happy-ever-after you so naively believed was waiting for you at the end of this ordeal when you signed your witness statement. 

Because at the end of the day, you weren’t playing by the FBI’s rules. You were playing by Crowley’s. 

Tomorrow morning you would take the stand, revealing yourself to the world. There was a fair chance that Crowley would come after you, and if that happened, there would be no returning to your normal life. You would be thrown into witness protection, given a new name, a new job, a whole new life where Y/F/N Y/L/N never existed. 

You would never see your parents again, or be by your sister’s side once she finally got married, or sit on the sidelines and cheer her on as she walked across the stage as Doctor Lydia Y/L/N. You would miss Mike’s child–who was due only two months from now–or any nieces or nephews that would come after. Your life would be snatched away, with no chance of ever going back. 

And as you in bed that night, you can’t stop the tears from prickling your eyes. With no one around to be strong for, you let yourself be weak. Because once you leave this room, you had to show the world that Zazel didn’t scare you, that Crowley was nothing but a name, and you, without a single doubt in your mind, would be there to take them down. You Y/F/N Y/L/N.

But no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself that tomorrow would go exactly as Dean had been promising since the day he knocked on your door, that tomorrow would finally bring an end to this living nightmare, you couldn’t stop the gnawing fear in your stomach that this was far from over.

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Jesse McCree was the sun, and Hanzo Shimada was the moon.

Jesse was warm, and bright, and felt like home.

Hanzo was cool, and sometimes he shone as a bright beacon. Sometimes he was a distant, invisible ghost.

Their meetings were brief. Secret, shared moments. The moon and the sun in the same sky. Passionate embraces, whispered promises they knew neither could fulfill.

They worked together in tandem, needing no words, a fiery gunslinger and an icy archer. The dragons sought his warmth, curling around him with joyous purrs.

The sun was as much a wanted man as the moon. The noose tightens.

The sun must set, at the end of the day.

The moon cried, the dragons roared their rage, when the rope pulled the sun too far.

The moon unleashed his pain and cast darkness on the hangman from the bright agony of his arrows, raining with divine fury until the streets ran red with vengeance, red as the dying rays swallowed by the horizon.

The moon carried the sun through the night, wishing, praying for those promises.

The sky was dark. Not even a star lit its inky expanse.

The moon forgot, though, that morning came. It came in the form of an angel, an angel who saved the star that the moon had once killed.

And the sun rose.

The sun refused to let the moon leave his side, and through day and night they worked in harmony, gunslinger and archer, until their lights faded, soft and gray, beating impossible odds through years and years. And when the sun set for the last time, the moon was beside him, ready to follow him into the heavens.

some newlywed rubiam sound p good don't u think

•"holy shit we’re married"
“holy shit you’re right"

•liam and ruby were always the ones to roll their eyes at the posts online like “so glad to spend the rest of my life with my best friend” like how corny can u get but what did they do as soon as they were engaged? post the same damn things smh

•"i want a divorce so i can marry you again"

•one night ruby wakes up to find liam staring at her and she’s like ??? and he whispers back “i woke up and remembered you’re my wife and got too excited and now i can’t sleep” what a NERD

•at their wedding he trips on something and goes down hard and immediately looks at ruby and goes “even after we’re married i’m still falling for you darlin ;)’” she threatens divorce

•ruby is such a covers hoarder it’s ridiculous so when they get married she’s like “now you’re stuck with me so i can steal the covers all i want” so liam starts playing the game of how many blankets can i add in the night before she gets too hot and stops stealing them. her record is 12.

•once you have pneumonia you’re more susceptible to getting it again so liam who catches pneumonia again on the 3rd day of their honeymoon and ruby who goes out of her mind with worry because she’ll be damned if she’s a widow at 23

•alternately ruby and liam enjoying their honeymoon so much they stay an extra few days because who’s gonna stop em?? you want me to come into work sorry i’m across the country can’t do it. they led a revolution let them have this.

•the do not disturb card stays on their door the whole time they’re on their honeymoon

•vida gets mad at them because “really??? you’re going on a tropical vacation just to have sex in your hotel room the whole time? what the hell you can have sex here. at least go have sex on the beach or something”

•chubs tells them “if you come home pregnant i’m going to make fun of you for being a stereotype the rest of your life” and ruby’s just like “that’s fair”

•eventually it’s ruby who makes them go back home because she misses their dog

•they’re OBNOXIOUS about the whole “this is my WIFE ruby because we’re married and i love her and she’s my WIFE” thing

•once he calls her Mrs Stewart he’s like…ugh no that makes me think of my mom so it has to be ruby stewart when they’re tryna be cute

•like don’t get me wrong he still loves mrs stewart it’s lit just not when they’re being romantic it’s hard to go down on someone right after thinking about your mom it’s kind of a mood killer

•"ooh babe you had a crush on me that’s so embarrassing"
“we’re married”
“still”

•okay so i headcanon that after the camps are liberated liam works for a company that finds homes for kids whose parents didn’t want them back/were killed/ can’t be found/ etc and when he brings up kids with ruby she’s like “you work with kids all day aren’t u tired of children wtf”

•one time liam has to go to some government meeting that was supposed to end at a certain time and he’s asked to stay later and his response is “no, our agreement was 6 o'clock, my wife has dinner ready and i hate it here. Goodbye.”

•their texts are a compilation of funny dog videos and 3 word questions only they can decipher

•one time on ruby’s day off she hears liam leave in the morning, raises an eyebrow, looks at the clock on the wall and counts the seconds before the door opens again and he runs back in because he forgot to kiss her goodbye

3 Billion Dollars [Part 3] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Originally posted by yuijiyong

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t go exactly the way he hoped.

Genre: dis one be angst

Warnings: this does mention violence and contains swearing just so you know

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8}

A/N: Okay so this one gets a little intence. I hope you guys like it. Sorry for the slow updates, school work takes up most of my time. Like always requests are open, and I love hearing feedback. 

P.S. this gif kills me

not my gif 

~Admin Brooklyn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight Years Later

College took way longer than expected. Coming back home from college was hard. Everything seemed different. It didn’t mean that you didn’t visit while you were in college, but everything seemed to change from the last time you visited. Everything had this scary calm tone to it. Mornings were good, comforting and warm, but calm. Usually (Y/B/N) would have some exciting news, but not now. Now he just sat quietly, staring at your dad. Your dad was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but he seemed sad and depressed, which was different. Your mother also seemed down, although she hid it. It was the calm before the storm.

You were in your room when everything started. Night had already fallen and you were working on your job resume. Music was playing out of our small speaker, just like it normally would. Everything else in your house was quiet, though. Your parents were downstairs, and they didn’t seem to make any noise, neither did your brother who was in his room. You didn’t mind how quiet it was. You were too busy working anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your parents froze as a knock sounded against the front door. Your father walked towards the door. He carefully eyed the staircase for any sign of you or your brother. A sigh left his lips as he swung open the door. Mr. Kwon stood on the other side, with his spitting image right behind him. Ji Yong had a hard gaze on his face. No emotion was shown, unlike his father who clearly showed his amusement at your father’s anxiety. Men in black clothing surrounded them once again, just like the first time they met.

Mr. Kwon stepped into the house, inviting himself and the rest of his crew in. Ji Yong followed his footsteps, then the rest of the men. Someone had quietly shut the door. Your mother was hiding in the kitchen, sending more than her fair share of fearful dirty looks. Mr. Kwon smirked at your mother, then turned to your father. “We both know why we’re here.”

Your mother glared at Ji Yong, but he was looking straight at your father. His face was void of emotions. He was struggling to keep his mind in check, though. His father chuckled as nobody moved. Your father was struggling to keep eye contact with Mr. Kwon, but he tried his best. Mr. Kwon’s smirk never left his face, even as he spoke. “Don’t be so sad. I’m just here to take what’s mine. Well, my what’s gonna be my son’s. Oh, and I’m here to let you know that you fucked up your end of the deal. Now I gotta fix that.”

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Morning Swim

So I’ve been bored at work and @bkwrm523 inspired an idea in me to kill time and yay, look it’s Bones! Also @kaitymccoy123 @outside-the-government look! I’ve started practice for your prompts…

Please be kind this is my first reader insert!

MORNING SWIM

You’ve always done swimming, albeit leisurely.

Back home it started out as sport and then when you got older, had less time, it turned into a once-ever-blue-moon sort of thing.

But now that you’re at the Academy you decide to give it a shot again. Especially now that it’s summer, you miss the pool. Not the warm water and the slides, no you sort of miss the cold water lapping at your body, the diving and the swimming itself. Up-and-down, under and above water and the exhilarating feeling of pushing yourself to go faster.

It’s quiet in the pool, most people choosing not to go swimming at seven in the morning and you’re happy for it. You feel terribly out of shape and it’s good to get back in touch with all the strokes again without too many people watching.

By the time you’ve done a few laps and your movements are getting smoother someone else walks in.

Curious, you decide it’s time for a little break anyways and you lean onto the edge of the pool, watching the man as he puts his bag down on one of the benches. He’s dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie and he turns, probably feeling your eyes on him.

He’s handsome, you find yourself thinking in surprise. His brown hair slightly tousled and he looks very much awake for the early hour.

“Hi,” you give a small wave and consider doing another few laps. You’d love to watch him get out of his clothes but just hanging there on the edge of the pool as he undresses… well, you’re not that creepy.

“Mornin’.” he greets – and oh darn it that voice – and then says: “haven’t seen you here before.”

You chuckle and, unable to help yourself, quip: “so then I assume you come here often enough to recognize all the swimmers?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, an amused smile on his lips. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say that’s a pick-up line, Darlin’.”

And well, it wasn’t a pickup line – just your awkward skills at making conversation – but when he starts to unzip his hoodie you don’t think you’d mind if it had been a pickup line.

It’s blatantly obvious he’s undressing slowly, easing the zipper down rather than just pulling it like one normally would.

You take it as the invitation he hopefully means it as and decide the laps can wait.

Instead you watch him remove the hoodie, revealing a tanned chest and oh yes, you immediately recognize the muscular body of someone who swims regularly.

“Well it’s got you undressing so I must’ve done something wrong.” It’s not often you flirt this openly but he makes it so easy, engages so easily.

He laughs and it’s rich, deep and there’s the beginning of arousal twirling through your body because hot damn.

He slips out of his pants and he’s all muscular legs and acres of tanned skin and his trunks are tight, small and they hardly leave anything to the imagination.

Your throat is dry all of a sudden and when he saunters over to the pool and squats down right in front of you you’re certain your blush is all the way down your chest.

He smirks and offers: “So how about a race?”

You take a deep, unsteady breath. “What does the winner get?”

“Oh darlin’, I’m certain we will both be happy with the prize I’ve got in mind.” He smirks and it’s the slowest lap you’ve swum the entire day, knees weak and body too hot.

But it doesn’t matter.

Not when afterwards he takes you to the showers and makes you feel like you won first prize instead.

Originally posted by sheldony

anonymous asked:

For the ship thing, TsukkiYama, KageHina and IwaOi? Please~~~~~~~

TsukkiYama:

  • Who said “I love you” first: Probably Yams. Tsukki is surprisingly shy about relationship things.
  • Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background: Tsukki. He doesn’t let anyone see his phone ever, though, so no one knows.
  • Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror: Yams.
  • Who buys the other cheesy gifts: Yams.
  • Who initiated the first kiss: Maybe Tsukki?
  • Who kisses the other awake in the morning: Yamaguchi. Tsukki pretends to be annoyed, but Yamaguchi knows better.
  • Who starts tickle fights: Yamaguchi. He is the only one who can tickle Tsukki and escape with his life.
  • Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower: Hmm, I’m gonna say Yamaguchi.
  • Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch: I can see this one going both ways?
  • Who was nervous and shy on the first date: TSUKKI.
  • Who kills/takes out the spiders: Neither of them are really bothered by spiders. Tsukki probably argues that they should leave them be so they’ll eat bugs.
  • Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk: I was gonna say Yamaguchi but honestly the idea of Tsukki doing this is pure gold and I want to see it.

KageHina:

  • Who said “I love you” first: Probably Hinata. Kageyama is not so good at expressing himself.
  • Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background: Both.
  • Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror: Hinata.
  • Who buys the other cheesy gifts: Probably both. Hinata is just a cheeseball but Kageyama would definitely see things that remind him of Hinata and buy them on impulse.
  • Who initiated the first kiss: This was probably a team effort because they were both v flustered about it.
  • Who kisses the other awake in the morning: HINATA.
  • Who starts tickle fights: Both. The tickle fights are real with this ship.
  • Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower: Probably Hinata.
  • Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch: Kageyama. He’s kind of shy about it but Hinata’s grin is worth it.
  • Who was nervous and shy on the first date: Both. Especially Kags though.
  • Who kills/takes out the spiders: Hinata maybe? Kageyama probably just can’t be bothered.
  • Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk: Hinata doesn’t even have to be drunk let’s be real.

IwaOi:

  • Who said “I love you” first: Iwaizumi.
  • Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background: IWA. I mean Oikawa has a selfie of both of them but Iwaizumi definitely has a photo of Oikawa that he took on the sly.
  • Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror: Oikawa.
  • Who buys the other cheesy gifts: Both of them. Iwaizumi is a sap, and Oikawa is… Oikawa.
  • Who initiated the first kiss: Oikawa.
  • Who kisses the other awake in the morning: Both of them probably, just depends who wakes up first.
  • Who starts tickle fights: Oikawa does, and quickly comes to regret it because they’ve been best friends since they were kids and Iwaizumi knows all of his weak spots.
  • Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower: Oikawa.
  • Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch: Iwaizumi.
  • Who was nervous and shy on the first date: Oikawa. He tried to play it off but he was very blushy the whole time.
  • Who kills/takes out the spiders: Both. Small ones they tend to leave be, larger ones get taken outside.
  • Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk: Oikawa, definitely. Iwaizumi just gets a little extra handsy.

anonymous asked:

For both Steroline and Bamon - Who would: Ask the other to live together, make the other a striptease dance, ask the other to dance without music, choose costumes on halloween, the one who always wins the argumemts, who wakes up crancky in the middle of the night, makes the other one exercise, who would sing for the other, who texts the other one first when they miss them

LMAO these are going to be so hard for me, you have no idea. Okay:

Ask the other to live together?

  • Bamon - Damon. Bonnie would probably be bitching about having to renew her lease and her rent going up and Damon would be like ‘then don’t renew it’. All her stuff’s there anyway since he lives closer to the hospital, and she’s obsessed with his ridiculously expensive bed (that she used to make tons of fun of until it became her new favorite thing). Plus, his modern, fancy bachelor pad feels warmer with all her books and sweaters and fluffy slippers lying around, and as much as he complains, it’s never felt more like home than it does now that there are flares of her all over it. And most importantly, he has the Keurig machine.

  • Steroline - Caroline. Stefan’s been feeling the situation out, not wanting to push because he knows she works at her own pace and there’s nothing that can slow her down or speed her up, she just is. So when she’s looking for a new apartment that’s closer to her job, he notices she’s asking for his opinion a suspicious amount, and it isn’t until she says, ‘Will your desk fit in here, though?’ that he realizes what’s happening. And he can’t help the smile. Because that’s Caroline. She doesn’t say ‘Want to move in together?’, she says ‘Will your desk fit in here?’, and he tells her that he’ll make it fit, and she nods nonchalantly and hides a smile in her coffee mug.

Make the other a striptease dance?

  • Bamon - Damon. Because 1. it’s Damon, 2. he knows it’ll cheer her up, and 3. it’s Damon.

  • Steroline - Caroline, because Stefan can get super lost in his cases and it’s a fun challenge to snap him out of it.

Ask the other to dance without music?

  • Bamon - Bonnie. And she still stands on the top his bare feet like a little kid, and she still hums ‘The Notebook Song’ offkey, and she still calls him a mush ball, and he tips her in outrageous dips and falls a little more in love with her every time. 

  • Steroline - Stefan. The apartment they end up getting has the tiniest bedroom known to humankind, but the kitchen’s big and has high ceilings and a bay window overlooking the Charles, and sometimes when they’re cleaning up after dinner, he’ll grab her hand and spin her around and pull her into him for a quiet, swaying moment. He still doesn’t ‘do dancing’, but he does it for her, and it makes her glow.

Choose costumes on Halloween?

  • Bamon - Both. It’s a fight to the death. The topic literally comes up in July and is a lightning rod of heated debate for months. Sabotage, blackmail, and seduction attempts are all fair game. It usually goes down to the wire.

  • Steroline - Caroline. And they’re always stylish and clever because she makes them herself. But sometimes she makes Stefan wear tights because hey, if they cape fits…

The one who always wins the arguments?

  • Bamon - Damon, usually. Not necessarily because he’s right, but because he’s a bottomless pit of frothy counterarguments and can literally debate forever and Bonnie stops caring because Naked and Afraid is on and a lot more interesting. But if it’s something that actually matters, Bonnie. Except she doesn’t argue, she declares and that’s that.

  • Steroline - Half-and-half. Caroline tends to get more carried away and heated in arguments and Stefan stays really patient and level-headed, so on any given day, it’s just a matter of whose stamina wins out.

Who wakes up cranky in the middle of the night?

  • Bamon - Damon. Shivering. To no blankets. And no pillows. Because somehow, a girl who’s almost an entire foot shorter than him takes up twice the bedding.

  • Steroline - Caroline, because Stefan always slips out of bed at 2 AM to work when he’s got a big case coming up, and she worries he’s not getting enough sleep.

Who makes the other one exercise?

  • Bamon - Both in different ways. Bonnie makes Damon go to open dance classes with her and he always ends up being the life of the party (he loves Zumba and yells ‘arriba!’ throughout the entire thing), and Damon drags Bonnie to the gym for weights (she complains the whole time and almost kills him when she gets distracted - ‘jesus, bon, you’re supposed to be spotting’ ‘I meaaaan, I spotted the froyo stand’). 

  • Steroline - Same deal. Stefan coaxes her into morning runs through the public garden and even though she never wants to go at first, she loves when they stop at the top of the footbridge to watch the sun spill over the pond. Plus, she gets her revenge when she drags Stefan to her spin class (which he still calls ‘biking’ and still finds really stupid because you’re doing all this work and not getting anywhere). 

Who would sing for the other?

  • Bamon - Bonnie sings freely and horribly. Full-volume Disney anthems are an evening shower staple, regardless of if Damon is in there with her, but he does occasionally manage to veer the sounds she’s making into something way less G-rated. Sometimes he just joins in, though. Their neighbors aren’t happy about either one.

  • Steroline - Caroline. Stefan knows a few songs on the guitar, but mostly he plays meandering, improvised melodies, and every now and then, Caroline will add lyrics. Sometimes it’s her poetry, sometimes she makes it up on the spot, but she has a pretty voice that she’s shy about and the rareness of it makes him love it even more.

Who texts the other one first when they miss them?

  • Bamon - Damon has exactly two modes of missing Bonnie - he gets grumpy as hell and starts complaining about literally everything (’this airport blows’/’”please secure your mask before assisting others” is such a fucked up metaphor for america’/’why is seattle so goddamn cold’/’why is everyone so happy in LA’) or he sends a long, whimsical, Shakespearean sonnet about how the world is ending. 

  • Steroline - Caroline. And Stefan always knows it’s coming because it starts off as a checklist. (’Did you remember to bring your external hard-drive?’ ‘yep.’ ‘Did you drop the dry cleaning off before you left this morning?’ ‘yep.’ ‘Are you sure you packed the tie I picked out?’ ‘actually I swapped it for the one Damon gave me for christmas’ ‘The blue one?’ ‘the one covered in penises’ ‘I miss you.’) 

This legit took me like 45 minutes to answer what are priorities.

red umbrella

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

in which it’s raining again.

genre: angst (with a very, very slight mention of sex)

― yoongi x reader

a/n: inspired by soyou and baekhyun’s rain and kikwang of beast/lee da in’s drama twenty


    HE STILL REMEMBERS. Everything―like it all happened yesterday. He remembers seeing you shiver in the cold rain with your red umbrella. He remembers how especially vibrant the red was compared to the gloomy monotonous bus station. He remembers how much he thought that umbrella was an eyesore. He remembers how you offered to share that ugly umbrella with him after seeing that nothing was protecting him except his flimsy black, black hoodie. He remembers how, even though he could only see you through the raindrops in his eyelashes, you were stunning. You leaned against him subconsciously to warm yourself, taking no notice of how his heart skipped a beat and how he closed his eyes, drinking in the moment as if it were his lifeline.

He was in love.

He is in love.

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