swagger back

Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Originally posted by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

A/N: Ya’ll. I’m so fuckin’ swamped in responsibility. I feel a lil guilty about coming back with something non-Rami but fuck it. Some other things I wanna say: Send me anything. Send me asks. I wanna answer you guys’ questions. Be nosy as hell. Also, I have something you might be interested in coming up after my birthday which is in like 2 weeks. Please feel free to request more Negan stuff, I’m branching out bitches.


Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448  

“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

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Writing is Hard, part 7: The Shower

Summary: Dean doesn’t appreciate the story you write about your first time.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warning: Smut, awkward sex gone wrong (but it gets fixed!)

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO

It’s a little sweaty when you wake up. Dean’s on his stomach with his face turned away from you, snoring a tiny bit, his body sprawling over the king-sized bed and leaving you curled up in one tiny little corner.

He does look good, though. The sunlight can’t get through the curtains, but you left a lamp on, and the muscles of his back are all exposed in the dim light. You lean up to get a better view and appreciate him fully, and instantly groan. Your muscles hurt. Apparently, you’ve been curled up in knots all night, and you desperately need to stretch out.

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Danny gets Phantom on the weekends makes sense that the text on my birthday is my trash ship

Punishment (Yoongi x Reader)

Pairing: Yoongi/Suga x Reader
Rating: M
Gerne: Wouldn’t you know it? It’s smut.

Words: 2,614

Warnings: bondage, orgasm denial, etc.

Summary: You want to have sex. Yoongi wants to nap. You’re having none of it.

A/N: I literally wrote this in one afternoon. smh I don’t think it’s my best work but it’s something. Anyway, Reblogs/Comments/Favs always appreciated!

When you’d started dating Yoongi you’d known of the fact that he is lazy. On his time off he likes to lay in bed and do nothing—maybe he’ll read a book and make some ramen or take a shower, but that’s it. He cherishes his off days like an old man, and sometimes that upsets you honestly.

Your relationship has lasted this long because 1.) You understand how Yoongi’s mind works and how busy he is and 2.) You’re pretty easygoing yourself. However…you have needs. And you know he has needs too, so sometimes you just don’t get it.

“I’m not really feeling it right now,” he tells you, yawning as he turns on his heel and swaggers back towards your room. He flops face first onto the mattress and you stare in appalment.

“Come ‘n nap with me,” he grumbles into the sheets at seeing your unhappy look, and you scoff.

“Enjoy your nap Yoongi,” you say, tone clipped as you turn away and trudge into the living room. You hear him mumble something in your wake but, of course, he doesn’t get up to come after you. Yoongi hates confrontation, after all—and you’ll get over at some point, just like you always do.

But…not this time, you decide. Not this time—not when Min Yoongi had just showed up to your apartment without warning and passed out on your bed. If he had brought food or had even kissed you and suggested a movie, then maybe you would’ve been in a better mood, but without speaking more than a “hello” he had dragged himself into your room and promptly passed out.

Think again, bitch.

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The List

When Killian comes across a list that Emma made when she was a teenager things get awkward but then soon take a sexy turn!

Read more of my work on ao3 and FF!

Sorry that it took me so long to write this! I’ve had the craziest past two weeks. I struggle with chronic pain and it’s been on bitch of a week so focusing enough to write has been a struggle. I hope to have another story or update done this week! Let me know if you want me to continue with this story. I think it could be kind of fun to write another chapter! There sure is a lot of possibilities! This idea just kind of came to me. And I mean we all have a list… No? Just me? Okay… heheheh I hope you enjoy!

Rated M

“I think this is the last of it. Is this really all you own?” Killian questioned with a rather large box in hand, kicking the door shut with his foot before swaggering back to Emma. He set it down on the dining room table amongst the other boxes while she smiled endearingly up at him from the floor where she was sorting some old childhood photos and knick knacks.

“Yup, this is it. Seven boxes is the rest of my life. It’s mostly clothes anyways,” The blonde explained, ripping the tape off another package. Emma had just gotten the rest of her belongings out of storage from when she lived in New York from the missing year. She had meant to do it a lot sooner, but between her family, being sheriff again, and the newest threat the Snow Queen, getting her old sweaters and silverware were the least of her worries. She thought she would have to drive back into the city to get her possessions but she was able to get her old neighbor to mail them to her instead, making her life a lot easier. Killian had generously offered to help her unpack and sort her things allowing them to spend some much needed quality time together.

They had been officially dating for just a few weeks and things were surprisingly going very well. He had broke down her walls and proved to her and her family that he was worthy of their trust. Even her father had taken a shine to her new boyfriend. Emma was pulled from her train of thought when her phone rang. She quickly reached for it on the kitchen table before picking it up.

“Sheriff Swan,” She answered officially. “Oh, that was fast. Thanks I’ll be there in two minutes,” Emma responded with a delighted smile upon her face.

“Who was that, love?” Killian asked as he tore open another box with his hook. He really did look for any excuse to use that thing.

“It was Granny. Our food is ready to be picked up. I’ll be right back,” She told slinging her purse around her shoulder before heading for the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want be to come with you?” He replied walking towards her.

“No it’s okay. I’ll just be gone a second,” Emma smiled with a sarcastic twinkle in her eye. Leaning in she placed a chaste kiss to his lips before making her way back to the door.

“I’ll miss you,” Killian voiced, calling to his Swan. She flashed him a saucy grin, rolling her eyes at him.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Emma laughed, closing the loft door with a soft thud. Once his girlfriend had left he went back to his task of opening boxes and sorting their contents. He lifted a particularly heavy one onto the table, tearing the flaps open. The package was filled with a variety of books and what appeared to be journals.

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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The super soldier returns from a difficult mission, and you witness a side of Captain America that not many can or will see.

“Close to You” (Rihanna)

A/N: I wrote this a few months ago as a self-reminder that it’s okay to be sad and angry. Posting this is my way of letting that moment go. - j. x

“Well done, everyone. Today…” Tony lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his tired eyes. “Today was rough. But we did what we had to do,” he continues, his voice straining with effort. “Let’s get some rest, team.”

Steve waits until everyone shuffles into their respective suites to raise his arm and clap a hand on Tony’s shoulder, wincing at the pain the movement creates. “Hey, I’m going to head out for a bit… Clear my head,” he mutters.

Tony gives him an exhausted but bright smile. “Going to see (Y/N)?”

“Yeah… Yeah.”

“Take the autopilot car. You can’t take the bike in your current state. And it’s late.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” He looks past Tony’s shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. “Will you -”

The brunette super soldier shakes his head at him with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be okay. Go see her, man.”

Sending grateful nods at the two men, Steve backs up and heads to the garage, the light fading from his eyes until they’re dark and empty. He revs up the engine and rips through the dark of night. Tonight’s evening ride is different from previous rides because the bright lights of the city fail to cheer him up as he whizzes through the cars on the streets. The cathartic feeling of the wind whipping through his body doesn’t bring the comfort and thrill it normally does.

It’s only when he comes to a stop in front of the familiar apartment that the light slightly returns to his blue eyes. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Steve chains his motorcycle and clicks it locked. He pushes through the pain of the stairs, letting out a sigh once he finally stares at the dried rose wreath hanging on your door.

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile cracks through Steve’s stony facade, and he poises his fist over the door.

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anonymous asked:

oh god, tony who used to be so cocky and confident around steve and now is fidgety and keeps playing with his fingers! rhodey would see it and be at his side in a second, he knows damn well how tony looks like when he's nervous and how he looks like when he's scared and now he sees the signs of both and he won't have it! tony is precious and he won't be treated like trash by steve.

Oh god, Rhodey would be in Obsessive, Violent, Protective Momma Bear Mode immediately. Can you imagine the carnage???

Because you see, Rhodey is already beyond pissed off by the time Team Cap comes swaggering back into the compound. He’s had to live through seven hours of no contact from Tony, not knowing whether he was alive or dead, had to watch Tony coming back only half alive, with wounds that have been caused by Captain fucking America. He’s watched Tony struggling to recover, unable to get the peace he needed, constantly stressed because of the public pressure and the amount of work it took to get these assholes back into the country.

So when Rogers has the nerve to contradict Tony within their first reconciliation meeting, all stubbornness and indignation–and he can’t believe that he used to find this inspiring–and Tony’s hands begin to twitch, rolling around the pen between his fingers again and again, until the skin is coloured an angry red, Rhodey snaps.

The Wrath of War Machine, christened by the newest, young members of the Avengers, will forever be remembered with both fear and reverence.

Why Him? Pt. 3 (Thomas Jefferson x Reader)

Time Period: Modern (College AU, Soulmate AU)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8

Word Count: 1,072

Warnings: Language

A/N: Here it is, kiddos! Part three! I am so excited to post this one and I think you guys will enjoy it :) Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated and requests are open.

Tags: @bjwrites @robotic-space @pietro-no


Thomas Jefferson stood outside your dorm building with your backpack dangling from his hand. His eyes met yours, his expression blank. “Can we talk?” You opened your mouth, but nothing would came out. Unable to find your voice, you simply nodded and pulled your gaze from his and settled it on your backpack. “Oh.” He reached out and handed it to you. You slung it over your shoulder and opened your mouth. “I ended up going back and having a discussion with your friend Eliza. She asked me to bring you your stuff,” he explained, anticipating your question before you could ask it.

Of course Eliza would give him an excuse to come find you. Being the rational person she was, she would definitely want the two of you to talk through this. “What else did she say?” You inquired, meekly.

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Ok but Maggie being a little shit and betting Alex 50$ she can get Lena and Kara to kiss. So Alex watches Maggie walk over to Lena and Kara who are out of ear shot. Maggie chats with them a moment then Kara and Lena lean in and kiss each other briefly. Maggie swaggers back to Alex, smiles, and is like ‘where’s my money bitch?’ Alex hands Maggie her winnings and is like ‘how the hell did you just do that?’ and Maggie just smiles and walks back over to Kara and Lena and gives them both 10$.

There is rarely a more controversial topic than Little Women, and two fans disagree on who Laurie married/should have married. 

I’m Laurie/Amy, btw, no way could he have handled Josephine, intellectually or otherwise. It took Amy to straighten him out coz she knew what she deserved and wanted. Jo didn’t even know what she wanted, just that she didn’t love Laurie the way he wanted her to love him, and that’s not wrong for her to say so. That’s what cheeses me off so much, that literally THOUSANDS of girls are telling another girl she’s wrong for trusting her gut. You shut up and listen to her. Josephine found someone who was her match, who challenged her to do better, to write better. She also found happiness in herself, which is more important. Laurie wasn’t doing a blessed thing right, just mooning around Europe, then he swaggers back, proposes to Jo, throw s a FIT because she says no, acting like she’s the bad guy (classic dick move, Laurie). So he goes BACK to Europe, doing all sorts of wicked things, starts to try and flirt with Amy, who’s grown into a beautiful young woman (and grown out of most of her spoiled ways). But wait, oh snap, Amy has standards, she doesn’t want a fop playboy who doesn’t do a day’s work and embarrasses his grandfather who was so good to Beth and the rest of her family! Snap! Laurie better get to it! AND HE DOES. He wouldn’t do that for Jo, because he figured they would both do whatever they wanted, no judgment, and that’s not what marriage is about. Maybe Jo didn’t realize that whens he was younger, she just knew she loved him as a brother, and they’d quarrel incessantly, because they already quarreled all the time! It’d be a thousand times worse if they got together. Laurie didn’t ‘settle’ for Amy, he just got up on her level. Jo fell in love and married with a man who treated her right, and challenged her where she ought to be, and not in a rude way, and that’s no bad thing.

Dance, dance

Alfred tapped his wooden spoon against the counter a couple times along with the rhythm. He bobbed his head, the music blaring in his blue tooth earbuds and drowning out the sound of anything else in the house.

He was housing all of the nations at this international affairs meeting, since he always made sure they all were comfortable, even the nations he wasn’t in a particularly good standing with.

He went back to muttering the lyrics under his breath, slowly getting louder as the beat picked up. Soon, he was frying bacon, flipping crepes, and singing out lyrics to some of his favorite songs on his ‘Pick Me Up In The Morning’ playlist.

“They say all teenager scare  the livin’ shit outa me,” he sang, oblivious to the people gathering in the doorway. “They could care less, as long as someone’ll bleed…”

“What should we do?” Ukraine whispered to whoever would listen. “Should we interrupt him?”

“If you guys have a death wish, then be my guest,” Canada whispered back. “I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.” With that, he stepped back, watching for whatever half-assed plan they came up with to unfold.

“Well, someone’s got to do it!” China pressed, “I mean, we can’t just keep standing here watching him sing.”

“Although I have to admit, his voice is much nicer to listen to than I had originally thought~” Russia said, leaning back against the door frame.

“But the lyrics are so scary!” Italy commented, trembling a little. “I mean just listen to it! Is this really what teenagers in his country are like?”

“Of course n-” Germany started, only to be cut off by the Russian yet again.

“Yes, they are. And that’s why no one lasts long in America unless you were born here.”

“If you know so much about him then why don’t you go interrupt him!”

Russia’s eyes widened, “Oh no, I know lots about him; that does not mean I want to get stabbed with the handle of a pan this early in the morning. Maybe after I’ve had some tea or something, but not now.”

Just then, a red kitchen knife buried itself in the wall behind them. They all collectively screamed (with the exceptions of Russia and Canada, since they’re used to this kind of thing). Alfred followed soon after.

“Hey you guys! Ready for breakfast? I made lots so you better get your asses in here and appreciate it!”

“You could have killed someone!” England screeched, still pressed against the wall and holding a hand over his heart.

“Naw, I have great aim! If I wanted to kill someone I would have~” Alfred turned on his heel and swaggered back into the kitchen, his brother and most notable adversary following closely behind.

After losing the dazed look, the rest of the nations followed suit.

Unrequited Love

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Word count: 1617

Paring: Dean x reader

(Y/N) sighed falling back in her seat looking up at the bar and watching Dean as he flirted with the bartender, her heart clenching in her chest as she watched. Her hand gripped her own beer bottle tightly in both frustration and anger, looking away from Dean she looked at Sam who was giving her a pitying smile which was the last thing she wanted to see.

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