The standard “strangers meeting in a bar and hooking up AU”

Captain Swan, of course, some smut for a Saturday night.


He shoved a leg in between hers, feeling her thighs grip and squeeze and fuck, all he could think about was having those long legs wrapped around his hips, with the red heels still on and the matching red lipstick and nothing else.

But since they were currently pressed against the brick wall behind the bar, thankfully upwind of the dumpster, he would have to make do.

A man walked into a bar. 

Keep reading

haleigh91 asked:

CS + 5

Disclaimer: I have never been pregnant nor have I known anyone who has been pregnant so I’m going off of what I’ve seen in movies and tv and the internet

Emma Swan cannot believe a simple one night stand with fellow Boston police officer Killian Jones ended up in a pregnancy (AO3, ff.net)

Definitely Not a One Time Thing

“Shit” Emma said quietly to herself as she sat on her bathroom floor, the positive pregnancy test still clutched in her hands. She should have known, she had been nauseous and vomiting for days and she had definitely missed her last period. She had tried to chalk it up to the stress of being a cop but there definitely was no denying it now. She was pregnant and it was her stupid coworker, Killian Jones’s baby. It was only meant to be a one time thing, a night of drinks and celebration over cracking a particularly hard case had led to them falling into his bed together and her sneaking out of his apartment before dawn. There had been no hard feelings from either side, they had both known it was just sex and was just a one night stand nothing more. But this? This definitely changed that.

Emma scrolled through her phone until she got to his number and debated whether this was news you call or text someone about. She held her breath as she pressed the call button and listened to the other line ring.

“Why Swan to what do I owe the pleasure?” he had answered jovially. Emma let out a shaky breath trying to figure out what she wanted to say.

“I need to talk to you about something, can um you come to my place so I can tell you?” she asked.

“Emma is everything all right?” Killian asked his voice suddenly full of concern.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out and long pause came from his end.

“Would you like me to bring some food for when we talk?” he asked breaking the silence.

“Ice cream would be nice,” she said wiping away a tear that was starting to fall.

“As you wish, I’ll be over there in 20 minutes,” he said before he hung up.

Keep reading

If a quick fuck was what Steve needed as a distraction, who was Tony to deny him that? He had dreamt of this moment—of Steve kissing him and touching him and wanting him—for months.  Tony decided he was going to make the most of this night, and if Steve came back around a few more times afterwards, he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.  Tony said that he could live with whatever Steve was willing to give him, and if all that meant was a rebound…

Well, Tony lied to himself all the time.  

How would this be any different?

anonymous asked:

Ok... so I've never given a prompt before, but here goes... Oliver wakes up to an alternate world where he isn't the Arrow and Diggle and Felicity don't know him... but he knows them and he's wondering what the hell's happening to him. I hope that's not too long, looking forward to what you do with it. Btw love your other stories :D

A/N: Believe it or not, this was supposed to be super quick but somehow morphed into a 3,500 word monster. And also thank you so much Anon! Your words mean a lot and this prompt was absolutely amazing! Come drop by my ask box to tell me what you thought! 

Tagging my babes! (you are all getting tagged whether you like it or not sorry!): emmajadex1989  cellardoors-and-petrichor  olicity-beautiful-dreamer dontaskmetosay-idontloveyou nothinglikeolicity prettysmoak hopeful-warrior 

**Want to read on AO3? Click here!**

→ → ← ←

This was wrong; something was wrong. Oliver couldn’t quite figure out why or how. It was a gut feeling, one of those heavy, relentless sensations that resided in the pit of his stomach. He turned aimlessly around Central City Bank’s rooftop, bow clutched tightly in his gloved hands.

A scream to his right rocked him to his very core. He knew that scream. He heard it briefly in his ear during the Undertaking. He heard it when the Count held Oliver’s very soul in his grip, two needles to her neck. He heard it when Mathis pulled her into the alley, a hand trying to smother the piercing sound. He heard it when he tended to her gun wound in the car on the way back to the foundry; her teeth sinking into his leather jacket.

Felicity. His Felicity.

Oliver didn’t have the time to chastise himself for claiming her as such. She wasn’t his. Sure, they were something; connected to each other in ways he couldn’t explain. But he didn’t want to risk her safety. He would be lying if he said he didn’t expect the stubborn blonde to fight back, to push him to think straight.

But to him, he couldn’t possibly think more clearly. How could she not know that if he lost her, there would be no more Arrow and no more Oliver Queen? How could she not know that her simply being alive gives him so much strength he feels invincible? How could she not know that if she dies, so does he? How could she not know that he couldn’t lose his partner, his love, his soul, his light, his best friend and survive?

Keep reading

New Routines

Sorry again to disrupt the usual sterek, but here is another Leverage fic that wouldn’t leave my head until it was written!

Basics: Takes place after S5, OT3 canon-compliant (meaning its not explicitly there yet, but it also is 100% there), 4k, Elliot-centric

Summary: Things are a little different now that it’s just them. Elliot finds he doesn’t mind the changes.

New Routines

It doesn’t come up right away. Probably because despite their acquisition of the proverbial Black-book, they have an unspoken agreement to ease into it. At least, it’s unspoken to Elliot. Maybe Parker and Hardison have actually talked about it. He doesn’t know how much they talk about the job during their private life. And he doesn’t need to know – really, the less time he spends thinking about them together, the better.

Regardless, he is content to follow their lead, even when it means there are four jobs before he even has a proper fight.

It feels good in all the ways he knows aren’t exactly healthy. But there is just something different and totally satisfying about his fists sinking into flesh instead of a cloth punching bag.

And that’s to say nothing of the flash of relief when someone manages to land a hit on him.

So it’s been a while, but he hasn’t let himself slip, not when he promised to keep them safe. So it’s all over in an instant. At one point, one of them had brandished a knife but honestly, the shallow cut along his right lower rib only ensures he ends the fight faster.

He wins and more importantly, they win and-

“Are you okay?” Parker asks, cutting smoothly through Hardison’s dramatic play-by-play of life in the van (Elliot refuses to call it Lucille. He doesn’t care if the vote is 2-1).

“What are you-?” he asks, frowning.

“The fight,” She says it like it’s obvious. Like he should have known what she was talking about.

Keep reading

Sorry, everyone

It may not have fully come through, but I’ve been pretty distracted the last few weeks.  My mom has been in town and work has been crazy for me, so I’m super-behind on replying to comments and asks as well as leaving feedback on fic and just being present. 

After tomorrow, though, things will be better, I know. 

And to celebrate, I’m going to post two different fics this week!

On Tuesday, I’m posting an amnesty fic.  On Thursday, I’ll put up the prologue for my Arrow/Iron Man fic, just in time for Avengers: Age of Ultron to spark a whole bunch of interest.  :-)

Hope this makes up for being so out of it for the last few weeks!

The man walked into the middle of the room but then turned away, allowing Sansa a good view of his broad back and exposed neck under a loosely tied knot of wet dark hair, water droplets still falling down his bare skin. His neck was paler than the rest of his body and it made that part of him appear oddly vulnerable – as ridiculous the thought was against the strength he otherwise emanated. Sansa tried to still her breathing so she would stay undetected for a moment longer, but he must have heard something as he stopped and cocked his head. 

Excerpt from my prompt fill to LJ sxs ‘Sansan Russian Roulette’ prompt by thedropletsparkled (KL. Sansa has run away and hidden herself from yet another beating. She has ended up in a room she doesn’t know, has eaten food and drunk wine that’s not hers and has - inebriated - fallen asleep in a bed in that room. Until the owner of the room - guess who ;-) - comes back from a training session.Bonus if the first thing he does is to take off his tunic, even before he notices he’s got a visitor.Basically a sexy Goldilock version. With a hungry Hound instead of bears.)

The rest can be found in LJ and below the cut here… As this is only about 530 words - ouch! - I couldn’t help myself and wrote also a longer version, available in AO3, from which this excerpt is.

Keep reading

authorjazmyne asked:

For the ridiculous sentence prompt thingy: “I’m like 75% this won’t explode on us.”, Doctor Mechanic (Please!)

“Is it supposed to sound like that?” Abby frowns at the machine that Raven just turned on.

“Don’t worry, it’s just being moody.”

“But should there really be sparks coming from the cog wheel?”

Raven’s face falls.

“Oh. Umm that’s not excellent but let’s give it some more time.”

They watch the makeshift generator in silence. Slowly, the high-pitched sound starts to get louder, the sparks coming more frequently.

“Raven..?”

“I’m like 75% this won’t explode on us.” She turns to Abby, “but just in case…”

She takes her hand, pulling her away from the machine and shielding her body with her own.

“That’s very noble of you Raven but I don’t think that will -”

She’s interrupted by a loud ‘boom’ and a puff of foul-smelling smoke that blinds them to their surroundings.

Raven coughs as they stumble away from the smoke, holding each other.

“Well”, she says, when they reach a safe distance and can see again. “It didn’t explode, per se.

“No?” Abby says breathlessly. “Then what do you call that?”

Ravens grins at her. 

“It just went boom.”

Happy For You

Title: Happy For You
Rating: PG
Pairing: Iwaizumi/Oikawa
Word Count: 1,000
A/N: I have arrived Haikyuu fandom.

Oikawa heads toward the bar, pace slow. Iwaizumi trails after him, hands in his pockets as he looks up at the dark sky.

“It’s nice to be back home,” Iwaizumi says. “You can’t see the stars in Tokyo.”

Keep reading

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hockey RPF
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Brent Seabrook & Jonathan Toews
Characters: Brent Seabrook, Jonathan Toews
Additional Tags: Transformation
Summary:

“I had more responsibillities with Tazer.” - Brent Seabrook, on being asked how married life differs from living with Jonathan Toews

Or, how Brent’s new roommate was kind of high maintenance.

***

Written for the Jonny n Seabs Birthday Bash Fest, which I believe runs until Tazer’s birthday on the 29th!

Honestly, my favorite part of this is the GIF at the end, which is basically:

safelycapricious asked:

Jemma and Lance Brotp: “Okay, on a scale from one to I just summoned Lord Voldemort, how badly did I fuck up?”

Follow-up to I was not expecting that which you should definitely read first to understand this.

Jemma’s in the middle of explaining just how dangerous HYDRA’s new research project is. (It’s actually worse than they thought, which was pretty darn dangerous, given that everyone fled the building the second Bobbi and Ward started shooting up the place.) More precisely, Jemma’s mouth is explaining, her brain is wondering if she can manage to gracefully resume her seat mid-report without appearing awkward about it. The Playground’s AC is still malfunctioning and the ancient fans Coulson had brought up from storage are not so much helping as allowing more hot air to hit them all.

She settles for tugging on the collar of her shirt rather than sitting. She is definitely going to change when this meeting’s over. Darn her deeply embedded professionalism; she’s literally the only person in the room dressed appropriately for a meeting. Even Coulson’s down to his shirtsleeves. 

The end of her torment in sight, she begins quickly wrapping things up, but is interrupted by a guttural yell and a crash. Hunter, it seems, has leapt across the table and begun beating on Ward.

“Get them apart!” Coulson yells, sounding more frustrated than surprised. It was really only a matter of time before someone snapped and attacked Ward, as evidenced by Fitz. He’s holding out a hand to Skye while she grudgingly fishes a few bills out of her pocket. May follows suit before moving to help Bobbi separate the men.

“I’ll just go prep the medical supplies, shall I?” Jemma asks. And if she makes a quick stop by her quarters on the way, leaving the boys in pain for longer than is necessary, it will serve them right.

Keep reading

Play Pretend

Chapter 13: Epilogue

Word Count: 3,055/59,344 words
Summary: Kurt has spent the better part of the last five years half in love with his best friend Blaine. What will happen when Blaine has to get married in order to inherit his grandparents money?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
FF, AO3

On the day of their first wedding anniversary, Kurt woke up to sunlight creeping around the edges of their shades, and the sound of Blaine singing in the kitchen.

Kurt stretched, yawning, before he picked up his phone.

Kurt: Come back to bed

Keep reading

Reincarnation/Soulmate Fic Idea

At 22, highborn Harry Hart had a lover that he wouldn’t have traded anything in the world for: a man with blond hair and blue eyes that brought himself up from humble means to make a name for himself in the Royal Marines. That is until he became one of the casualties of the Falklands Conflict, leaving a mourning Harry behind to rebuild his life.

Years later, after being recruited by Kingsman and spending a majority of his existence quietly working to prevent the kinds of socio-political conflicts that killed his partner, Harry is contacted by the son of his fallen Kingsman recruit, Eggsy Unwin. 

Upon answering the call, Harry finds a young man who bears a startling resemblance to his long-dead lover, both in appearance and personality. 

It’s almost too much for Harry to bear.

anonymous asked:

hey man, im a huge fan of your single daddies au, and i dont know how to say this without coming off as kinda rude but.... have you ever thought of writing all of their reactions to mikasa's first period? i reckon it would be quite the experience for them all tbh

Not rude at all! I like getting requests.

Here’s how I imagine it going down…

Keep reading

  Sigrid was anxious, and she took it out on the laundry.
   She shook out each garment with a loud snap before folding and throwing it down on the growing pile of clean clothing. Her little sister Tilda glanced at over from her place on the window seat, pursing her lips and turning quickly to look out the window again, afraid she might have missed some sign of their father coming home. Their brother Bain stood at the table, mercilessly pounding potatoes into a pulp. Then,
   "I see him!“
   Instantly, all three were at the door, opening it just as their father reached for the handle.
   "Da!”
   "There you are!“
   "I was worried!”
   They spoke at once, clinging to Bard as he closed the door. He embraced them back before releasing them quickly. “Girls, stay up here,” he said. “Bain, come with me.”
   His son followed him downstairs to the privy while the girls hovered near the railing at the top of the steps.
   "Da, what’s going on?“ called Tilda. Bard gave her a quick smile and touched a finger to his lips.
   "Just a minute, darlin’.”
   He lifted up the lid of the toilet and motioned Bain over. “Give them a hand, son.”
   One by one, Bard and Bain pulled a halfling and thirteen shivering dwarves out of the toilet.
   Fíli was so cold, he could barely lift his hand to grasp Bard’s. Kíli released his hold on him as he was lifted up, and when he was settled onto the floor, his legs buckled. Bard caught him, telling Bain to help the rest of the dwarves. He lifted Fíli and carried him up the steps.
  “Sigrid, stoke the fire, please. Tilda, love, will you get some blankets for our guests?”
  The girls hurried to do as their father asked, and after seeing to the fire, Sigrid poured some fresh water in a kettle and hung it over the flames. Something hot to drink would certainly be welcome. Bard settled Fíli nearest to the fire, and the other dwarves gratefully accepted the blankets that his youngest daughter offered.

Excerpt and illustration from Chapter 24: The Smuggler of ‘Fate Be Changed’!
Enjoy!