sorry for the not so good quality of the gifs on the left

Had a lot of fun with this one. I was initially going to add another scene but it ultimately became superfluous to the story. I’ve left it kind of open at the end, a bittersweet sort of meeting, but if someone would consider suggesting where it goes afterwards, I’d be okay with doing another part. In the meantime, thank you to @legrandfoyer for the request. Enjoy!

Prompt[s]: can I request? :D a tony x reader where the reader applies for a spot at banner’s lab, but by mistake ends up getting an interview with tony for the job of (tony’s) personal assistant?

‘An Interview with Tony Stark’

Despite having your hands on your thigh, somehow your foot was still finding a way to tap on the floor. The court shoes that you were wearing didn’t help to conceal the sound either. You fiddled with the end of your blouse’s sleeve and looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. Who knew that the clock hand would shift by one minute after 60 seconds had passed? It felt like much more time had passed.

Given the job you were applying for, part of you had expected to be interviewed in some sort of lab. Yet here you sat – dressed in a pantsuit and heels – in a surprisingly mundane office room. Sure it was modern, but there was only one monitor on the computer. How could they possibly be productive with only one monitor?

You looked at the clock once more. Your interviewer was late. How long did they expect you to sit there waiting? Perhaps it was a test. Just as you were beginning to ponder where the hidden cameras were, the lock on the door clicked and a brunette was using his back to push it open, stepping slowly so as not to spill the two cups of coffee he was holding.

Keep reading

Imagine hitting it off with Chris.

A/N: This is a request by @bywonater, enjoy 😊 

You sat at a corner booth in a dingy little dive bar, texting your best friend while the rest of your band got wasted. As the lead vocalist and bassist of the world renowned band: ‘Back to Basics’, you looked out of place in the environment you were currently in. You didn’t particularly enjoy dive bars, but it was a place you were used to. After touring the world with Ed Sheeran as his opening act, you and your band inhibited his habit of partying it up at a dive bar after a good gig. You had a particularly good gig tonight, performing at the after party hosted by Marvel Studios to celebrate their world premiere of the highly anticipated movie: ‘Avengers: Infinity War’. You were a huge Marvel fan and you saw a lot of familiar faces, but unfortunately had little time to interact. You managed to exchange a few words with Robert Downey Jr. who was kind enough to bring you and your band a round during an interval. You also ran into Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie on your way to the bathroom, screaming on the inside when you found out they were as crazy about you as you were about them. Sadly the one person you wanted to see was the one person you didn’t, and that was Captain America himself.

Chris was pretty disappointed when he realized he’d lost his opportunity to meet you too. He was a big fan of your music, and he couldn’t help but notice how easy on the eyes you were. When he heard you were the entertainment for the after party, he was so excited. He tried to catch your attention a few times by standing front and center, but you were too focused on your performance to spot him. He then tried to catch you during the interval, when you were getting drinks and circling the room. He literally missed you each time by a few seconds. The amount of times he heard his cast mates say “you actually just missed her;“ he kicked himself for his terrible timing. At midnight, the party came to a close. Your band packed up and left for the dive bar, leaving both you and Chris to wonder how on earth the two of you didn’t get to meet at such a small event.

You thought that was it, and honestly Chris did too until he found out an invitation had been given to the whole cast- specifically to him, Jeremy, and Anthony- to come continue partying at the dive bar your band was going to be at. You found out later that it was Max, your drummer who had issued the invite. He said he wanted to see if the Marvel cast- specifically Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, and Anthony Mackie- lived up to the hype of being hardcore partiers. You and Chris were both incredibly grateful towards Max when you heard because that meant the two of you could finally meet in person.

A small group of the Marvel cast flooded into the dive bar, not that you noticed them with your head buried in your text conversation. Chris scanned the bar the second he entered, spotting you in the corner booth alone rather than with your band. Anthony, Sebastian, Jeremy, and Chris (Hemsworth) joined the rest of your band at the bar, while he slipped off to get that alone time with you before the rest crashed the table.

“Hey!” Chris called over the music and you looked up from your phone. You smiled upon meeting his piercing blue gaze, earning a warm smile in return. “Do you mind if I join you?” He asked and you shook your head, allowing him to slide into the seat across the table from you. “Tell me the truth, have you been playing hard to get?”

“You got me,” you nodded, laughing. He smiled, thoroughly enjoying how lovely your laughter was. “I had to see if Captain America is as capable as the movies make him out to be.” You teased and he laughed, placing a hand on his left breast; a signature Chris Evans move. “As always, you could use some work on your timing.”

“Be fair, at least I didn’t make you wait seventy years.”

“True,” you laughed, “you didn’t make me wait seventy years, so I guess we can consider it a win.”

“Oh, I’m definitely considering it a win,” he grinned, making you laugh again. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you,” he admitted, chuckling. “I am such a huge fan that I have to channel Captain America to prevent Chris Evans from hyperventilating.”

“And how do you recommend I stop from hyperventilating?” You joked. “I’m a fan of both Captain America and Chris Evans, and I’ve only got one persona to channel.” His laughter was so contagious that you couldn’t help but laugh along even though you were trying to play it cool.

The guy was the whole package, you didn’t understand how he was still single. He was good looking, almost intimidatingly so. But he was also kind, gentle, and sweet which made him easy to talk to. And if that wasn’t enough, Chris Evans was charismatic and charming; he could’ve warmed even the coldest of hearts. Out of all the celebrities you’ve met since becoming a celebrity yourself, the encounter you were currently having with Chris was easily in the top five. Ellen DeGeneres, Robert Downey Jr., Ed Sheeran, and Taylor Swift being the other four.

“It is really good to meet you. Like- really, really good.” Chris held out his hand and you eyed it, trying not to smile at how untimely the handshake was. Normal handshakes occurred at the beginning of the conversation, not halfway through. He knew that, and was hoping you couldn’t tell it was just an excuse to hold your hand. But you could and you didn’t mind. You lowered your phone on the table and firmly grasped his hand; a slow, tension high handshake began. “You’re judging the quality of my handshake, aren’t you?”


“And how am I doing?”

“You’ve got a nice firm grip,” you nodded.

“And you’ve got really soft hands,” he seemed slightly amazed by that fact. He broke the handshake then took both your hands in his to further examine the softness of your hands. You shifted in your seat, ignoring the tingles in your stomach that came with his touch. “Wow, that is- they’re like baby hands.” You laughed and Chris blushed when he realized how weird he was being. “Okay,” he drew back, lightly drumming the tabletop with his fists. “That was weird.”

“That was also cute,” you disagreed. “You’re very cute.”

“I disagree,” he shook his head and you furrowed your brows with a curious smile. “My dog, Dodger. Now he’s cute. I’m not sure if you’re aware of him,” he began as he reached for his phone. Before he could show you a photo of Dodger on his, you showed him a photo of Dodger on yours. “It’d be much more flattering if you didn’t crop me out, but okay.” He chuckled and you bit back your smile; he didn’t need to know you had photos of just him on your phone too.

“I’m sorry Dodger is much more appealing to me.”

“Who would’ve thought I’d ever be jealous of Dodger.”

“You’re an idiot,” you leaned back against the seat, laughing.

“I’ve been told that before. But I’ve also been told I’m very hot,” he resumed his flirtatious attitude with a smirk. You tried not to smile as you rolled your eyes; he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and his chin on his knuckles. “Would you care to chime in on that? Y’know, just to repair the ego you so cruelly destroyed with the ‘Dodger is much more appealing to me’ comment?”

“You’re hot as hell, Chris Evans.”

“Why, thank you. That is so unexpected,” he commented with a great deal of sarcasm and you laughed. “It’s also such a huge compliment coming from a girl as beautiful as yourself.” His genuineness turned your cheeks a deep red and you lowered your gaze. “Seeing as I’m hot as hell,” he smirked and you looked up, chuckling; somehow you knew what was coming. “Would I get a ‘yes’ if I asked you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Hm…” You pretended to contemplate, bringing Chris to the edge of his seat. You smiled, answering his question before you actually spoke. Another belly aching laugh came from him when you said, “only if you promise to let me meet Dodger after.”

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @imaginesofdreams  @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @heartblackerthancoffee @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @rileyloves5 @buckys-shield @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @castellandiangelo @edward-lover18 @yourenotrogers @im-a-fandom-slut @royalexperiment256 @palaiasaurus64 @tacohead13 @badassbaker @pegasusdragontiger @sfreeborn @dorisagent101 @aekr @imagine-cats96 @adeptkillsyasse @shliic @justanotherfangurlz @winchesterandpie @creativeheartgemini @camerica96 @thestarlighthotel @lilya-petrichor @pinkleopardss @lizzysugar @bywonater @avengingalec @nerdingoutismylife @rayleyanns @captainxamerica @lapetitsyrene @01asianista @alwayshave-faith @southernbellestatues @thegirlwiththeimpala @callie-swagg1 @what-if-wenevermet @hillrichhill @patzammit @gerrardisgod @stevcsass @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

The Transfer

Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy X Reader

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Word Count: 1535

Prompt:“I was angry,and half in love with her, and so damn sorry, I ran away"

Summary: You and Bones used to date, but he left without explanation and you haven’t spoken in seven years. Now you’re the transfer nurse to the USS Enterprise which will reunite you and your lost lover

Tags: @southernbellestatues @star-spangled-banner13

You stood in the teleport room as the guards put your small amount of luggage on the transporter pads. 

“The USS Farragut to the USS Enterprise. This is Lieutenant Greene, come in Enterprise.” You heard Greene say through the intercom. 

“The USS Enterprise to the USS Farragut. This is Mr Scott, we are ready to transport your transfer on your signal.” The comm went silent and you turned to you Captain. 

“You will be missed Y/Sn.” She nodded her head slightly. 

“It had been an honour to serve in the ship Ma'am and I will regretfully leave to a different start. I appreciate all of my years on this vessel.” You smiled and she smirked. 

“We’ll all miss you Y/n. You’re a key member of our Med Team but I understand that this is a more promising opportunity for you.” She took your hand. “All the luck in the world I give to you.” She whispered. 

“Thank you Ma'am. For I fear I may need it.” You squeezed her hand before stepping on the transporter. The rings of light soon circling you until you couldn’t see your smiling Captain anymore. You saw a new crew and Jim Kirk in front of you. Stepping off the pad you stood up straight in front of Jim. 

“Captain.” You nodded your head slightly. 

“Lieutenant Y/n. We’re happy to have you on board. Please follow me to your quarters. Your luggage will be transported soon.” Jim turned and you followed him closely. 

Your heart still beating too fast to be healthy. So nervous that you’d see Bones around the corner. 

Keep reading

So I’m uploading this part a little earlier than I participated because I figured that there was nothing integral to the plot in it; I can afford to upload it without fear of needing to go back and change things. Thanks to @agentpiku and @thefallenbibliophilequote for the comments last time, and to @imagine-that-marvel and @marveliskindacool for beta-reading. Enjoy my darlings!

‘The Tower’ (Part 2)

Part 1

On the outskirts of the city, a great distance away from the main city and its glittering palace, lay a small greening village of no more than 600 peoples. The town’s inhabitants were hardened and hearty on account of the toil and labour that had allowed their home to prosper. Such success was granted in part by the vast forest that lay adjacent…

Thanks to the resources provided by the neighbouring woods, a thriving economy had been cultivated within the town. The first mile of forest alone held plenteous income for the town. A particularly large river that passed the edge provided ample fishing opportunities. Bushes bristling with berries and root vegetables were easily found. Even veins of metal ores and precious stones were locatable within a day of dedicated searching.

The only way out of the city was via a main road that also navigated the thick trees. Carriages moved through it on a daily basis, bringing goods to and from the village. Despite the traffic on this path, nobody ever dared to venture away from it, for fear of what terrors the shadowy thicket held.

Everyone in the village had a role. If you were strong, you felled wood. If you were fast, you hunted. If you were patient, you herded cattle.

It was probably why you felt so isolated.

Keep reading

Imagine food fights with Chris.

With the sun relentlessly beaming down on your face, you were quickly aroused from your sleep. You were expecting a bad hangover after the night you had, but you woke with only a minor headache and slight fatigue; it was thanks to Chris, he had forced an Advil down your throat before putting you to bed.

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, turning to reach for Chris only to find his side of the bed empty. You propped yourself on your elbows, attempting to peer into the ensuite from where you were. The door was wide open and you couldn’t hear any sounds, which could only mean that Chris was downstairs having breakfast or watching TV, or he and Dodger had gone for their morning run.

God, how he could go for a run or do anything physical after last night was beyond you.

It wasn’t until you reached for his pillow that you noticed the note sitting on top of it. You pinched it off the pillow and laid on your back, holding it in front of your face. Your vision was fuzzy because you had only just woken up, and because you weren’t wearing your glasses, but you could make out what he’d scrawled across the paper.

Good morning, my sweet,

Dodger and I went out to get some fresh fruit for breakfast, we’ll be back soon. The coffee’s on the pot so if you’d like to get out of bed to have some while you wait for us to return, you’re more than welcome to. I doubt you’ll even be awake before we get back but- better safe than sorry.

Your ever-loving husband,

You smiled and stretched before getting out of bed, taking your glasses with you as you headed to the bathroom to clean up. You caught yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, noticing that you were still wearing Chris’ white dress shirt from the night before; both of you had spent it at the Oscars and its after party, which was where you and possibly Chris- you couldn’t remember- got ridiculously drunk. You pressed your nose into your shoulder and smiled because the shirt still smelt like he did; of bergamot, vanilla, and sandalwood.

You made your way downstairs and headed for the kitchen. You could smell the coffee even before you turned the corner. On the table was your favorite mug; Chris had gotten it for you for Christmas, it was white with blue snowflakes. You spotted another note with his handwriting, you picked it up and giggled when you read it.

Here I was thinking you were just going to stay fast asleep until Dodger and I got home. :P The cream and sugar are where they always are. I know it’s not Starbucks quality but I hope you enjoy your coffee anyway. If you need another Advil, take it.

You heard noises coming from the front door, then Chris’ voice and Dodger’s scuttling feet across the hardwood floor. You smiled and leaned against the marble counter, sipping your coffee as you waited for them to come through the archway.

“Well well well,” Chris smiled at you. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He kissed you on the cheek then moved to unpack the groceries. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be awake, I sent Dodger upstairs to go get you.”

“I could tell from the notes you left me,” you chuckled and drew one from him as well. “I’m surprised you’re awake, to be honest. You drank a lot more than I did.” You reminded him, putting your cup down with a thunk.

“You forget I’m a Bostonian,” he chuckled. “We don’t get drunk and we don’t have hangovers. It’s in our genes,” he shrugged nonchalantly and you laughed. “You’re lucky I made you take that Advil last night, otherwise you wouldn’t be laughing right now.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You hugged him from behind and kissed his shoulder blade. “What did you get?” You poked your head around him to peer at the bags that were filled with fresh fruit. “What are you going to make?”

“Pancakes,” he told you and you felt your smile widen. “These are just toppings. I even got…” He dragged out in a sing song voice, searching the bag for whatever he got. “Marshmallows!” He exclaimed excitedly, holding the bag of mini marshmallows in front of you.

“You’re such a kid,” you giggled.

“Gotta match my wife’s personality,” he teased then kissed the tip of your nose. “Shall we start?” He asked and you nodded. “Grab the mixing bowl and whisk, will you?” You nodded, doing as he asked. “Oh- and the milk and eggs from the fridge.” He instructed then padded over to the pantry to get the dry ingredients.

“Here you go,” you placed the needed items in front of him.

“Okay,” he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get pancaking. Hey-” he pointed at you and you raised an eyebrow. “No food fights,” he warned in a playful tone that meant the complete opposite of what he just said.

“Of course,” you nodded, biting back your smile.

Dodger joined the two of you in the kitchen just as you started mixing the batter. You had the job of pouring the ingredients in the bowl while Chris did the whisking of the mixture. You chatted about little things, laughing at events that had occurred the night before. You didn’t remember playing beer pong with Sebastian and Margarita until Chris reminded you; you and Chris were an unbeatable duo and Seb and Margo were absolutely smashed by the end of the game. You laughed, imagining how they must be feeling this morning.

“Hold it,” Chris stopped you and you narrowed your eyes in confusion. “You have something on your-” he dipped his pinky finger into the batter and poked it on the tip of your nose. “Nose,” he finished, biting back his smile.

“Wow,” you scoffed and chuckled at the same time. “Thank you, I didn’t notice it until just then. You know what though,” you dipped your hand into the bag of flour and grabbed a fistful of the white powder. “You have something-” you tossed it at him and he closed his eyes. “Oh, all over you face.” You said and pressed your lips together, laughing softly through your nose.

“Seriously?” His smile grew wider. “You wanna go big?” His hand dipped into the bag of flour and he tossed a handful in your face before you could dodge out of the way. “You have something all over your face as well.”

Dodger barked and drew both your and Chris’ attention onto him; the poor puppy was covered in flour too. You looked back at Chris and shook your head at him, “see what you did. Now he’s going to run all over the house and leave a trail of flour behind him.”

“Me?” He laughed. “You started the flour tossing, thank you very much. Look over there, look at all the flour behind you.” He pointed behind you and you turned. “Honestly, Y/N. It’s Sunday, I don’t want to spend the day cleaning the house.”

“There’s nothing-” You were met with another fistful of flour when you turned back to him. “Oh my God!” You laughed and he did the same, grabbing his left boob. “You’re such an asshole!” You slapped his arm.

“You look like a ghost,” he laughed louder.

“Well then you better match your wife,” you grabbed a fistful and tossed it at him. He dodged it with ease and snatched the bag away before you could grab another fistful. “Running scared, are we?” You challenged with a smug smile.

“Hey,” he held up the bag with one hand, “I’ve got the ammunition.”

“You’ve got no balls,” you placed your hands on your hips. “That’s why you’re cheating.”

He scoffed and shook his head. You watched as he slowly put the bag of flour down, the smirk on his face only meant trouble for you. You tried to make a run for it before he pounced, but you were too slow for the Super Soldier. He grabbed your waist and pulled you into his front, nuzzling his flour covered face into your neck. You shrieked with laughing, hunching in his grip.

“Stop!” You laughed.

“Let’s call a truce so we can have breakfast.”

“Okay okay!” You cried out, choking on your laughter. “Truce!”

The two of you focused on cooking the pancakes without anymore flour tosses, and it took about ten minutes but you finally had a plateful of deliciously fluffy pancakes. You sat on the cold marble bench top, swinging your legs back and forth as Chris cut up a pancake doused in maple syrup.

“You are absolutely filthy,” he chuckled as he fed you. “How is it?” He asked, before taking a bite himself.

“Fantastic,” you smiled then dipped your finger in the bowl of maple syrup. “Cut me another piece please.” You asked and he did; when he looked up from the plate, you touched the tip of his nose with the sticky syrup. “Who’s filthy now?” You asked with a smug smile.

“I don’t know…” He dipped his hand into the maple syrup and wiped it onto your cheek. “You?”

“Chris!” You laughed. “You’re going to pay for this.” You jumped off the bench and took a handful of icing sugar and threw it at his face. Your jaw dropped when you saw him dipped his hand into the Nutella jar, smirking. “Don’t you dare,” you told him and slowly backed away.

You tried to make a run for it but he caught your waist with one arm and smeared the Nutella on your face and into your hair. You screamed and laughed and squirmed in his arms. He laughed and held onto you tightly as he dragged you back to the table to add a touch of icing sugar on you.

“You’re looking absolutely delicious,” he chuckled and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m going to have a lot of trouble trying to get all this mucky stuff out of my hair,” you pouted.

“I will be more than happy to help,” he whispered into your ear with a cheeky, flirtatious tone.

You turned around in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling. You walked him back until he was half sat on the bench, you could tell from the smirk on his face that he was expecting something other than what you had planned. You leaned in inches away from his lips, it was a distraction so you could reach for the open jar of peanut butter and dip your hand into it. Just as he was about to kiss you, you scooped out a big dollop of peanut butter and smeared it into his hair. He made a face and groaned, pretending to be annoyed with you.

“I think you’re going to be way to busy with your own hair,” you giggled, biting your lower lip.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled. “Let’s call it a truce and eat ‘cause as fun as this is, I’m starving.”

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling.

You and Chris continued eating breakfast with maple syrup, peanut butter, Nutella, flour, and icing sugar, on your clothes, in your hair and all over your faces. As a materialistic actress, you would usually mind being covered in anything other than Chanel but it was different with Chris, you could be covered in mud and be comfortably okay.

“I’m going to go have a shower,” you said and hopped off the island bench top. He nodded and followed behind you as you headed for the stairs. You chuckled and turned around, stopping him with my hand. “Alone, Captain.”

“Aw…” he pouted.

“But you can go have a shower with the kitchen,” you chuckled. “It is dirtier than I am and I’m sure it’ll appreciate the help in cleaning it up. So…Chop chop,” you clapped your hands in his face and he chuckled.

“Are you really going to make me clean up alone?”

“Well…You did start the food fight,” I winced. “It’s only fair that the one who started it, ends it.”

“I don’t want to clean up by myself…” He whined and you pouted, giving him your best puppy dog eyes; his weakness. “Fine, I’ll clean up.” He grumbled and you smiled. “You go have your shower. Time limit of half an hour, please. I too would like to get all this muck off me.”

“Thank you, baby,” you smiled and pecked him on the lips before skipping out of the kitchen.

AN: Sorry if this is a little later than I had hoped for, today was just plain awful :( but, I still am happy that I was able to get it up. Writing these imagines just makes my day brighter! Anyway, this is part two to “The Dance”. Like I always say, I don’t normally do sequels, but I needed a break from some of the new requests (I love you guys so much for sending them) and when someone requested it I couldn’t say no. Thanks anon! *The gif is not mine, found on google. Please ignore all spelling errors! Xoxoxoo :3

Recap: Natasha knows that Pietro is attracted to you (reader) but you don’t believe her, so she dares you to give him a lap dance in front of everyone. You, being drunk like the rest of them, do it and Pietro decides that he’s had enough of the dance and wants something else…

Warning: Smut. I am awful at writing it, so don’t be expecting good quality smut (is that even a thing?).


“The Dance” (Part Two)

One second you were in the living room giving Pietro (and the rest of the Avengers really) a show that you would only ever give if you were drunk, and the next you were slammed up against a bedroom door. He still held your legs at his side, your feet dangled at his hips.

Pietro’s lips were on your neck in a second; sucking on your skin, softly biting, and completely driving your crazy.

“Pietro…” You groaned as you dug your fingers in his bleach white hair, pulling at it and making him moan.

He reached around you, still keeping his lips on your neck, and fumbled to find the door handle. When he did he kicked it open and practically threw you onto his bed. He left you there for a small moment, quickly shutting the door then coming back to you. He hovered above your, staring down at you with his big blue eyes.

“Before we get too far, I was hoping that you would finish that dance…” Pietro said huskily. You grinned drunkenly at him and nodded slowly.

Pietro moved so quickly that you had barley been able to see him get up. He grabbed a chair that was sitting in the corner and placed it across from where you were sitting on the bed, the back pressed up against the wall.

You cocked up and eyebrow at him as he sat back in the chair, watching you with hungry eyes.

“You coming, baby?”

You smiled at the double meaning. “Not yet, but you will be.”

He grinned as you made your way over to him and sat on him like you had before. He began to move your hips, but this time you were much more comfortable because you were alone.

Pietro swore in his native tongue and began to roll his hips up to yours with matching speed. You groaned loudly and arched your back.

He laughed huskily and began to assault your skin with his mouth once more.

Within a split second, the rolls reversed and you were in the chair and Pietro was on to of you, grinding on you. His pace was a lot quicker and rougher than your had been.

“Pietro!” You all but shouted.

He grabbed you and quickly slammed you back on the bed.

Gasping, you both worked to rip off each other’s clothing. You wondered if you would have ever done this if you were sober.

“Nat thought that you liked me…” You said between heavy breaths. “That’s why she dared me to give you a lap dance…”

He kissed your lips roughly and mumbled. “Baby, I’ve like you for a long time.”

He placed kisses all down your neck and over your chest whilst mumbling onto your skin, something along the lines of  ’Remind me to thank Romanoff later’.

You were both naked soon enough, and the next hour or so of your life was full of pleasure and some mild foreign swears.

Pietro rolled off of you and stroked the hair that was sticking to your face from the sweat, bot of you were breathing heavily. “Y/N, maybe we should, you know, actually go out on a date sometime.”

((*Covers my face up to hide my insane blush* I am sorry if this smut sucked, I’m not really good at writing them. I know it was short, so sorry about that too. I hope you guys liked it still though! Tell me what you thought! Xoxoxo :3))


The Accidental Email, pt III

date: Wed, Nov 09, 2016 at 9:23 AM
subject: Courthouse shooting?        

Are you here today? Are you okay??

Sent from my iPhone



date: Wed, Nov 09, 2016 at 9:28 AM
subject: RE: Courthouse shooting?

Was just emailing you…spotted you on the steps.

A little shaken, but okay. I joked that we should all stay home the day after the election. Not so funny anymore. Will be in questioning once they clear the courthouse.

Sent from my iPhone




date: Wed, Nov 09, 2016 at 9:32 AM
subject: RE: Courthouse shooting?

We heard the shots from our courtroom. Saw Bartle’s name on the docket and wondered…

Sent from my iPhone




date: Wed, Nov 09, 2016 at 9:35 AM
subject: RE: Courthouse shooting?

Judge Branson was a vocal advocate for the POTUS-to-be. They believe he was the target.

Fortunately, no one was seriously injured. Have to run. Being pulled for questioning now.

Sent from my iPhone



date: Fri, Nov 11, 2016 at 4:05 PM
subject: Apologies      


I’ve gone too long without checking in given the sort of week we’ve had around here. Granted, it’s been madness for both of us, but there’s no excuse.

I hope you are coping with Bartle’s dismissal and the related circumstances as well as you can, particularly after the trauma of Wednesday’s events.

You have my ear if you need it.





date: Fri, Nov 11, 2016 at 4:48 PM
subject: RE: Apologies          


So nice to see you in my inbox. I was beginning to think that you were distancing yourself like EVERYONE else has been.

Bartle’s downfall was of his own making. I had no idea about his proclivities, and yet it seems that my proximity at the time of his demise may very well mean my own.

More than that…he was not only a colleague, but very nearly a friend. And I missed it. Whatever flags there were, I missed every last one and…

What does that say about me?

That I sat at this perv’s side for months and never once noticed anything?

I’m not entirely sure I want an answer to that question.

Sorry. Our emails have been entirely too serious lately. Perhaps I should take an email sabbatical until things are normal again.




date: Fri, Nov 11, 2016 at 6:03 PM
subject: RE: Apologies          


Nothing about what went down with Bartle is on you. AT ALL.

You know the DAs office is a lot of politics, so give it time. Keep your head down, keep being the amazingly capable person you are, and when the dust settles, any affiliation with Bartle will be forgotten.

I heard you’ll be working under O’Dwyer for a bit? That’s a step in the right direction.

If I can do anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.





date: Fri, Nov 11, 2016 at 7:59 PM
subject: RE: Apologies

You can help me edit the Ivy Leaguers Guide to Drinking, because I clearly left out TEQUILEA.


Sent from my iPhone



date: Fri, Nov 11, 2016 at 8:10 PM
subject: Where are you? <eom>



date: Fri, Nov 11, 2016 at 8:23 PM
subject: RE: Where are you? <eom>





date: Sat, Nov 12, 2016 at 2:44 PM
subject: Embarrassed            


I write this email, not even sure what I should say.

I only have a record of the last thing I said in writing, and while I’d like to say it was an exaggeration of the evening’s events, it was not.

I know I made it home safely, but the getting here is still fuzzy. The only clue I have is a handwritten note, left on my bedside table stating the following:

 Drink lots of water and take a couple aspirin when you wake up. Trust me. Tequila is nobody’s friend.

It was signed by someone named Sonny, who simply appended “a friend of Barba’s” to his signature.

Normally, I’d make a joke here about your clandestine mafia connections, as that’s the only explanation I can come up with for someone with a name like that to be one of your associates, particularly one doing you favors.

But I’m a little too exhausted from heaving my insides out in the wee hours of the morning, and a little too humiliated that you had to see me, even virtually, in such a state.

I hope this doesn’t color whatever image you’ve pieced together of who I am.

Regretfully yours,


PS – Now I remember why Tequila wasn’t part of the Ivy Leaguers Guide to Drinking. Tequila is from the devil and should not be touched. Ever.



date: Sat, Nov 12, 2016 at 9:32 PM
subject: RE: Embarrassed    


The only regret to be had here is that I had to send someone in my stead to help.

Go easy on yourself. The week you’ve had would be more than most could bear, and from the sound of it, you’ve done it without the support system you deserve.

For my part, I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that sooner.

If anyone should be embarrassed here, it’s me.

Incidentally, Sonny is not mafia. He’s NYPD, and a trusted detective. I hope you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t send just anyone to rescue you.





date: Sun, Nov 13, 2016 at 10:11 AM
subject: RE: Embarrassed


I think it’s funny that you should say that you hope I know you well enough…

The reality is, I don’t. And yet, it feels like I should?

I’m feeling considerably better today, both physically and emotionally, so thank you for the concern. At this moment, I’m sitting in one of my favorite brunch spots in Manhattan, and the promise of buttery croissants, bacon, and the freshest coffee is enough to nearly make me transcend the events of the past week.

Are you a brunch person?

I don’t know that I could truly understand anyone who doesn’t enjoy an indulgent brunch from time to time.

Perhaps we should start there. If I were to know you well enough, I would know your thoughts on breakfast foods.

And coffee. I don’t need you to tell me about your affinity for the stuff, as I’ve seen you around with a coffee cup in hand on more than one occasion, but I am curious – how does the illustrious ADA Barba take his?

Inquiring minds and all that.

Must go. Food’s arriving…



date: Sat, Nov 12, 2016 at 9:32 PM
subject: RE: Embarrassed    


I enjoy breakfast food, but I don’t know that I would consider myself a fan of brunch. Then again, what I do with a leisurely morning off is probably more dependent on the company I’m keeping.

Coffee – varies. In the morning, I prefer café con leche, but generally settle for a latte with sugar. In the afternoon, espresso. Sweet. If it’s an especially high quality blend, I’ll take it black.

How is it you’ve seen me around enough to know of my coffee “affinity”, yet I don’t recall ever meeting face to face?





date: Sun, Nov 13, 2016 at 9:47 PM
subject: RE: Embarrassed


I’ll keep this brief, as I have an early morning meeting with O’Dwyer that I’m still prepping for…

To answer your question, very simply put, I’m not the sort of person you’d take notice of.

Good night.





date: Mon, Nov 14, 2016 at 8:01 AM
subject: Thank You    


Imagine my surprise when I arrived this morning to find a gift box on my desk, tied in dark blue ribbon, with a shiny Yale tumbler full of coffee beside it.

The tie is lovely, and I was even more surprised to find it was a tasteful design made of shades of green rather than blue.

I’m curious as to the change of heart on color, but also grateful.

Hope your morning meeting went well. I’m sure O’Dwyer was impressed with whatever you prepared. Something tells me when you speak, people listen.


@elijiadoesntwritehere @justjaclin @sarahgracej  @caffeine-nights @vintagemichelle91 @faslaidir @midsomersurvivor-blog  @abrasivepersonalitytendersoul @hs0507  @xemopeachx

 Part I

Part II

(A note for those unfamiliar with <eom> - it means “end of message” used in correspondence to let the reader know that the subject is the full msg)

Netflix’s Daredevil

On a roll today with previewing to you my latest workingzzz.  I’ve been hidden away for good reason!

So I’ve designed the first set of characters from Daredevil.  Not all of them though yet….  Lots of fun characters left to do :)
These ones are still in need of a joining background and places to print them (I’m thinking mugs and banner posters…?).  I told a few people that I was doing them but no one has actually seen them, so here’s a low quality gif, for fun and for now, until they’re ready in all their full-resolutiony glory.  Foggy has the most awkward face to caricature kindly.

I enjoyed the series!  Glad I didn’t rush through it.  Though I love comic books and superheroes, I’m really really really not a fan of the Marvel films (sorry, don’t shoot me!  I love Captain America!) so I was pleasantly surprised at how much I got out of this show!  I loved how dark it was, and how much you were teased into empathising with the villain.  I also really felt the themes of morality and what it is to take a life which I think lack sometimes in superhero/action films (Man of Steel was great for it!  I think that’s a pretty underrated film).
Let me know what you think - of all of this!


A lot longer than I anticipated, but what can I say? I had a hell of a time writing it. And don’t tell my boss but I took my bluetooth keyboard into work and spent my free time editing this on my phone. Shh… So anyway, this fic was requested by @curiositykilledthecompanion. Enjoy, my darlings!

It’s kind of a basic plot, but can you write a Tony x Reader one where he and the reader are flirting during a mission, and she gets hit, and he thinks somethings wrong, but she doesn’t say anything about it until they get back to the tower? Like, she hides it from him and he gets mad because she could’ve died?


Battles were not renowned for the feelings they invoked. Yet this could not really be considered a battle. The fight was too easy. How could anyone expect to stand up against The Avengers?

“Call it in,” said Steve, who was leading the team. All the team members sounded off – Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor, even the Hulk gave a resounding cry (not that anyone had thought he was in any way missing or injured).

Keep reading

よし!It’s been pretty much exactly a year since I really got into anime and actually started being the blogger I am today!!! Thanks for putting up with me, now here’s less of a follow forever, more of a (semi)detailed guide on who to follow!!! (sorry I dont have too much to say there’s a lot of people and i want to get this done lmao)

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