then it goes down in one motion

What has been your worst "nice guy" experience?

So, possibly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. I mean you know how you hear the “women want him, men want to *be* him” stuff in old movies? Well I’m a man and by *god* I wanted to be this guy. Anyway!

I’m having dinner with my girlfriend at the time, and behind us are a couple on a date. It is.. not going well. Guy was being rather creepy and making some pretty inappropriate comments, the girl doesn’t look at all comfortable.

The girl finishes her appetiser really quickly, my guess is she wanted to get it over with. Guy proceeds to comment on it and says “well, least I know you can swallow right?”. Loudly.

Girl goes red and tells him that isn’t appropriate, he literally waves his hand in a “shoo” type motion and says “oh calm down I was going to find out in a few hours anyway”.

I missed her exact reply as she moved to a hushed tone, but it was fairly obvious what was being said - fuck no, fuck off, fuck this. He responded with “sweetheart I picked you up, I know where you live”. She lost the colour in her face and said nothing.

No. No. Fuck no. I’m one of those “get involved” type of people and there is no way I’m sitting here watching this go down. I get up. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m 23, fighting fit and happy to put that motherfucker through a wall. I may have had a slight temper in my youth. But anyway.

I was halfway out of my chair when a hand came down on my shoulder and I look up to this mid-50s but super fit guy who says “Easy.. I’ve got this one son”. Absolute, total confidence in his voice.. so seeing as my current plan amounted to “stab him in the neck” and I’m already thinking maybe that’s not the best idea, I sit down.

He walks over, grabs a nearby chair, flips it around and sits down with the couple. Then.. he pulls out his police ID and puts it on the table. Now the guy doesn’t have any colour in his face.

Cop: “So, I’m quietly celebrating my daughters birthday with my family when I distinctly hear you threaten this young lady, would you care to explain yourself?”

Guy: “I, ah, well, um, you see..”

Cop: “That’s what I thought. Now see, we take a *very* dim view of that kind of thing, so right now I’m deciding if I want to have some of my buddies come pick you up.”

Guy: “oh no well that…”

Cop: “But that would disrupt everyone’s dinner, so how about you hand me your ID, because I wouldn’t want you running off on me, then you go see one of the staff here and settle your bill.. the full bill now, this young lady shouldn’t go hungry on account of your poor behaviour. Or we can go with the first option, I’ll leave it up to you.”

Guy: “No no! That’s perfectly fine!” \*hands over ID, gets up and walks very quickly in the direction of the counter\*

Cop: \*while writing down the guys details\* “Sorry about that miss, I hope I’m not intruding it just seemed like you could use some help. Oh and don’t worry, if you want to pursue this further I’ll have some of the boys pick him up on his way home, we can definitely take this further.”

Girl: “No, thank you so much, I wanted to run out 30 minutes ago but he drove me here”.

Cop: \*shifts from hardarse cop to comforting father figure in about half a second\* “Well I’m here with my daughter, she’s about your age, perhaps you’d like to finish your meal with us? We can run you home afterwards if you’d like, unless you’d prefer to call someone else?”

Girl: “Oh.. that would be really nice.. thankyou so much!”

\*guy returns, so does the hardarse cop\*

Guy: “Uh so, I’ve paid the bill, if I could have my ID back..”.

Cop: “There you go.. now I have your details right here so I *highly* recommend you don’t go near or contact this young lady ever again.”

Guy: “Yes yes of course, I’m so sorry!”

The guy pretty much fled the restaurant, the girl went and sat with the cop and his family and by the time we left they were still sitting around talking and laughing about random crap.

It was hands down the best way I have ever seen anybody handle any situation, ever. That cop is my hero.

RETROGRADE PLANETS [IN THE BIRTH CHART]: A retrograde action is a planet slowing down. In contrast to the velocity of the Earth, it appears to be going backward. No planet ever goes backward or leaves its orbit. It is always moving forward. The apparent backward motion of a retrograde is simply the loss of velocity. The Sun and Moon never go into retrograde motion.
Retrograde planets represent work that must be achieved in this lifetime because it was not accomplished or reconciled in a past life.

MERCURY RETROGRADE: A Mercury retrograde usually occurs every three months, so that there are three or four Mercury retrograde periods per year, each lasting exactly twenty-one days. When Mercury goes retrograde, if you were born during a Mercury retrograde, it is a time to really make contact with yourself. You will be inspired and moved to recognize your ideas and thought processes with clarity.
When a person is born with a Mercury retrograde, he has a communication problem. He can tell you what he thinks, but he can’t tell you what he feels. He doesn’t make contact with his emotions because Mercury blocks it. There is also difficulty communicating with the self.

VENUS RETROGRADE: If you were born during a time of a Venus retrograde, your inability to appreciate the self is obvious. You are unable to express self-love. You don’t know how to get what it is you want or how to satisfy the self. You must learn not to expect such things from others but, instead, develop them within yourself.

MARS RETROGRADE: The inability to act is created in a Mars retrograde. It is as though you have been victimized by others because you are not using your aggressive qualities correctly – you either don’t know how to be aggressive or you fear aggression. You water down your energies. This does not make for a happy person; it creates a person who internalizes his aggressions and anger. This is dangerous because a retrograde Mars can lead to brooding or nursing old wounds and, eventually, to health problems ranging from ulcers to anxiety. Angers that cannot be externalized wind up being internalized, which impacts one’s health. Retrograde Mars in a chart indicates the inability to displace its natural energy in a positive or productive manner.

JUPITER RETROGRADE: A retrograde Jupiter usually leads to an overbearing individual, especially if placed in the fourth house – it is a tyrant in that house. It creates an inability to empathize with others, which results in an insensitive and isolated individual.

SATURN RETROGRADE: Saturn retrograde relates to self-worth. The inability to judge oneself accurately shows up in a retrograde Saturn. Saturn, as a maturation planet, puts your self-worth into proper perspective. People who tend to place more importance on themselves than others will certainly learn the lesson – Saturn will restrict them until they balance their own worth with the worth of others.

URANUS RETROGRADE: For those born with a retrograde Uranus, the action of Uranus, which is slow, becomes even slower. The unique and unconventional quality of Uranus ceases to be because something is underdeveloped or undeveloped that must be caught up with. This creates the late bloomer, one who doesn’t readily discover his rare individuality.

NEPTUNE RETROGRADE: Neptune in retrograde is a humdinger. Neptune is a difficult planet, so in retrograde action the negativity of Neptune becomes prominent. Neptune has a depth that can be lifesaving; but when it turns retrograde, it goes underground and doesn’t resurface. All of the wonderful concepts, ideas, and creative forces that are generally in Neptune when it is well-aspected will produce irrational fears and anxieties when in retrograde position. These fears are considered irrational because they are usually not created within the context of this lifetime, but from past-life issues and unfinished business.
If born with a Neptune retrograde, it is necessary to maintain faith and courage in the face of all challenges.

PLUTO RETROGRADE: Pluto is generational. During its long revolution, many people will be born within each of its aspects. If Pluto is in retrograde motion, which it is for about six months of the year, half of the population will be born with a Pluto retrograde. This group of people is not necessarily going to act according to the rest of the group. These individuals will, sooner or later, stand out within that generation. They will either be famous or infamous.

—  Ada Aubin and June Rifkin, The Complete Book of Astrology
*kicks down the door* ok i’m tired of not seeing any Coran appreciation posts so here we go

-is a big enthusiastic goofball which is honestly really nice because having someone so humorous and cheerful and upbeat on the team helps the others relax while under the incredible pressure of fighting an intergalactic war

-like honestly, if Coran wasn’t around i feel like everyone would be 15x times more stressed out

-puts everyone’s needs before his own, is honestly the true team mom

*lets the paladins take breaks during their training, makes the paladins food (and while his cooking isn’t the best in the paladins’ opinion, it’s the thought that counts)

*fusses over Allura after her healing the Balmera

*comforts Lance when the homesickness strikes

*tends to the castle by cleaning, repairing, rebooting systems, etc. have you guys seen how big that castle is?? jfc Coran. please help him

*is very mindful of how to properly extract Balmeran crystals. he and Hunk were in a rush to get the crystal back to the castle and help Lance (who was /dying/) and he still performed the ceremony anyways!

-he’s had like no time at all to grieve for everything that he’s lost, he’s hardly lost his composure over the course of season one. he’s doing his best to be strong for everyone, especially Allura. please give him a hug :(

-he’s so smart and full of so many neat facts? please tell me more about Altaen culture Coran

-is often times left alone on the ship to pilot it when Allura goes down to join the paladins on missions. poor guy must be so lonely all by himself?? do you think he worries about something happening to the rest of the team? i know i would.

-on top of all this he’s a total badass????

-i mean???

get fucking dunked on. Coran effectively deflects Keith’s food goo attack and returns fire, hitting all of them at once in one swift motion. imagine if that wasn’t food goo, what if it was something actually deadly?? good fucking bye enemies don’t mess with the space butler

“what’s that? you want me to land so you can board my ship?”

“NAH”

#goodfuckingbye

he’s so cool?????

some

BODY ONCE TOLD ME

“CORAN ATTACK! I’VE WAITED 10,000 YEARS FOR THIS!”

“yeah don’t mind me just gonna face an entire galra fleet while the paladins get Allura no biggie :)”


in conclusion: Coran deserves way more appreciation & recognition in the fandom! he’s so awesome!! don’t just write him off as a side character when he’s done so much for the team. he’s like the backbone to Team Voltron!

this is for @ilgaksu because she had a bad day and we’ve been chatting spy au and she gave me an idea and i want to cheer her up. all those reasons

Running the surveillance van is generally considered the boring job, but Matt doesn’t mind it. He can people watch to some extent, and he has Neil here to keep him company in watching the screens. It’s quiet and requires no acting, which makes it preferable to being in Andrew’s position right now.

On Matt’s screen, Andrew is leaning back in his seat, cards held in one hand and a low glass next to the other. He’s pretending to be a Russian magnate with a taste for the dirtier side of capitalism and also for killing people he doesn’t like. He looks relaxed, swimming with sharks. Probably because he’s the deadliest predator swimming in these waters.

They’re well into the game in there when Neil says something low in a language that definitely isn’t English, and then, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What?” Matt asks. He’s instantly alarmed, because it takes a lot to make Neil lose his cool – the last time he said something similar, he was bleeding out from a hole in his gut.  

Neil is already on his feet. “I’ve got to go in there.”

Neil is definitely not supposed to go in there. He’s only here in the van because of a concession on Wymack’s part, mostly because they’d all believed he’d find a way to get involved in the worst way possible if he weren’t included in an official role. Things have gotten a lot more complicated since he and Andrew started working together, including the frequency with which Neil gets bullet wounds.

“You can’t,” Matt says. “You’ve got your orders.”

“Do you really think I care?” Neil replies. “Andrew’s about to get his cover blown, and I can’t warn him from here.”

They couldn’t send Andrew in wearing an earpiece because everyone inside was searched for tech, so the only support they could provide was watching like this. “How do you know you won’t get him killed storming in there right now?”

“What would you do if it were Dan? Sit in your ass here in the van, or go?” Neil asks. Matt looks away from the screen to his face, taking in the brutal determination with which he looks back.

Matt and Dan are married, but he suspects mentioning that might not be worth the air he’d waste in the process. Whatever bond it is that Andrew and Neil have, it’s probably just as significant, as close and as unbreakable. He says instead, “Who did you see?”

Keep reading

In one smooth motion, as if a wave passed over them, every candle in the ballroom goes out.

The light chat rises to panicked whispers in the darkness. I begin to choke on the smell of ash.

A sharp gasp rakes through the crowd as the tall candelabras at the top of the stairs erupt into columns of flame, illuminating the tall figure standing there.

They’re wrapped in flowing silk and sumptuous furs that shimmer like champagne in the firelight. Concealing their face is a goat mask. Its crimson eyes seem to glimmer.

The figure glides down the staircase, their very form seeming to flicker like a candle as they survey the crowd. A small laugh rises from them as their golden, clawed hand reaches to pull away their mask.  

In the smoke-choked silence, Nadia’s wine glass shatters against the floor. She brings a trembling hand to her lips. Julian squeezes my hand, urging me to step back.

On the staircase, Count Lucio’s eyes blaze with amusement. His grin splits like a wound.

“Surprise, bitches.” he laughs, throwing out his arms. “i bET YOU THOUGHT YOU’‘D S EE N THE L AS T OF ME”

***

S O I havE SOM  E HOPES ABOUT THE MASQUERADE CHAP T ER

EXO Reaction ~ Accidentally Moaning While They’re Giving You A Back Massage

Request: Ok, so this is pretty much the opposite of my previous request. XD May I please have EXO react to massaging your back to get all the knots out after hard day when you unexpectedly moan REALLY erotically? XD Thanks!

A/N: Ok we gunna post a few things, I’m gunna update the masterlist and clear out any requests we aint gunna do then requests MIGHT or MIGHT NOT reopen (depends)


Xiumin:

“Well, well… I wasn’t expecting that but I’m certainly not complaining…” *feels overly achieved for turning you on with just his hands on your bare back*

Sehun:

“That… What the hell was that…” *Litro takes a few moments to realize that you moaned out of sexual pleasure* “…Can I have a turn?”

Luhan:

“Well I don’t have that good good for nothing, now how about I show you how to blow it like a flute?” *Very badly suggests sex through his songs*

Kai:

“How about we fix those knots later, I got some other ideas in mind” *Internal scream for adorable and innocent Kim Jongin*

Suho:

“Just when I thought we were going to have a relaxing evening, you woke the SuDaddy in me” *Goes down on you heavier than his money on bank scales*

Chanyeol:

“Oh my goodness why, Jagi…” *Both of you young horny fuckers get turned up like a furnace*

Tao:

“I’m going down in the history books for what I’m about to do to you, just you watch y/n…” *almost tears his gucci off his body in one quick motion*

Kris:

“After that little stunt you’ll be seeing the stars of the galaxy tonight… My style” wink wonk

Baekhyun:

“Oh damn, you legit thinking what I’m thinking… Because I’m thinking of Netflix and Chill” *Smirk smirk*

Lay:

*You don’t get anything but constant eyebrow wiggle from this kid and a sudden background music of ‘What U Want’ and ‘Lose Control’ playing from his phone*

Chen:

“I knew I was good with my hands Jagi but I didn’t know I could make you shake the whole building with one moan by giving you a back massage” *Will tease you all the fucking time for this*

D.O:

“Honestly, I just wanted to treat her to a normal and relaxing night in but no. What does she do? Moan as sexually frustrated as the beagle line is, I can’t fucking deal with this shit. One relaxing night, just one and she gave me the most noticing boner ever.” *Is ashamed, pissed and just generally doesn’t know what the fuck and how the fuck to feel*

Yours

I met you online a few months ago and as we grew closer, i shared all my fantasies with you. Over time i told you everything. From my need to be dominated to my impregnation fantasies. The day finally came where we agreed to meet. We scheduled a time and place to meet and today was the day. I knock quietly on the door, it opens and i see you in person for the first time. “Hello” you break the tension first. “Hi”, I respond shyly. You move to let me in and i tentatively take a few steps forward, before the door even shuts you’ve taken my face in your hands….my mouth the first of many things youll claim that night.

You relase me and i instinctively lower to my knees and release your massive cock from its confines…i drool at the sight and i slowly wrap my soft pink lips around its head…sucking gently as i push to suppress my gag reflex and take as much of you as possible. But you’ve had enough of my slow pace and grab my head and shove your cock down my throat. I gag hard as your cock invades my throat and tears spring to my eyes. You proceed to thrust into my mouth like it’s just a hole for your pleasure. Finally, your cock spasms and i feel jet after jet of warm salty liquid pour over my tounge and down my throat. I swallow as much as i can, but a few rebellious drops escape my mouth and roll down my chin. I look up at you through my glasses, eye makeup smudged from my tears and hair a mess from the force of your hand. You help me to my feet and undress me, slowly, painfully slowly…button by button my shirt comes undone. You groan when you see im not wearing a bra. The zipper of my skirt goes down inch by inch and you find me without panties as well. You push me backwards onto the bed and take off your own clothes. You get on top of me and start fondling my breasts. “Are you ready babygirl?”, you whisper, your breath moist in my ear. “Are you ready to lose your virginity….to a man old enough to be your father?” I nod my head, dumbstruck and speechless with nerves. I had been waiting for this day but now that its here….im nervous.

You aren’t gentle. You thrust into me in one hard motion. I cry out in both pain and pleasure. My attempts at masturbation were nothing compared to this. I wrap my legs around you as you enter me deeper and deeper…“Faster”, I cry, “Deeper, Harder, Rougher”. Its my mantra and I keep repeating it as you thrust into me… “Please daddy”, I moan, “please, fill me with your seed, Make me a mommy!” You start to thrust harder, something i didnt think was possible. “Are you ready little girl?”, you growl. A soft whimper is my only response. “Then take it, take all of my seed into your willing womb, take it as i claim you as mine”. With this you thrust deep into me and are still as your cock spasms in me. I moan and cry out as i cum in time with you and you fill me with your cum.

Afterwards we cuddle and as i gently fall asleep i smile. “Im yours”, I whisper, “Yours forever”.

Hi, this is my first submission so please dont be too critical. You can call me LovelyChaos, if this story becomes popular ill post more. :) Thanks for reading!

~From Sour to Sweet~

When you find a new friend in the strangest way.

cat hybrid!yoongi/reader

Word Count: 5,704

What were you thinking?

You don’t know what possessed you to go to a hybrid adoption facility and want to pick out a hybrid of your own. You felt bad that you could only choose one of the many hybrids presented before you. All were of various species accentuated with different colors, shapes, and sizes.

“You can go in if you want.” The employee next to you responds, having spotted you looking at the hybrids through the glass window.

The room was pretty spacious but you were afraid that if you went inside you would try and take them all home with you. It looked like a cross between a playground and recreational room. There were beds for them to sleep, a TV off to the side, and lots of blankets and pillows.

“If there’s one you want to interact with personally, we have rooms available for you, if you’re not comfortable going inside with all of them. It can get overwhelming sometimes.”

You watched all the hybrids for a bit. There were a couple of rabbits running around in a game of chase, bounding through the other hybrids as well as hopping over stray toys and scattered furniture pieces. The foxes were playing with a soccer ball, rolling it back and forth and a few of them even went to mess with the other hybrids nearby. Literally all of the dog hybrids were play wrestling each other and you could see tufts of fur flying through the air. Most of the cats were either asleep or lazily tossing balls of yarn here and there.

You notice a small white cat hybrid tucked away from everyone else, including the other cats, curled up in a ball high on top of one of the shelves. He wasn’t sleeping, rather he was lying there and observing all the other hybrids with a smidge of boredom adorning his features, white tail flicking lazily back and forth like a pendulum. His white ears contrasted the black locks of his hair as they twitched to each of the sounds. You noticed that he looked…lonely, yet there was a hint of sadness somewhat hidden in his eyes, and your heart ached at the sight.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

There's one little girl whose gone trick-or-treating to the hat manor dressed like Black Hat for something like five years now. She's worked out that if she says dressed up as "The second evilest bad guy ever after the real Black Hat" and puts a paper bag on her baby brother's head and yells at him, she'll get her entire sack filled with the GOOD candy every single time.

((So. Not officially back yet, but you guys deserve your Halloween candy. Which I now present to you a day late because I am the worst. Anyways Early Action Apps are done just have Regular Decision to go))

  • The first time she went, she had been dressed up as a princess or whatever. Black Hat answers the door expecting a customer and gets a little girl asking for candy. The fuck is this human bullshit. “Come back when you look evil,” he says, slamming the door on her face.
  • She’s dragged off by her worried mother the next instant, but boy oh boy did BH pick the wrong fucking kid to do that to. little sally or whatever the hell is very, very persistent.
  • she shows up the next year. dressed as a pirate. BH scoffs. “Bad initial concept, worse execution. 2/10.” “Then what’s more evil??”
  • Black Hat g r i n s. “This” *cue the normal demon face mode bullshit.* Sally manages to stand her ground. Alright, not bad for a twerp. “This, you see, is classy. That” he gestures at her costume, “is just tacky.” The door slams again.
  • Next year. next year is the key. She steals a tuxedo from her older brother, buys a hat at party city, and makes a mean-looking mask out of construction paper and crayons.
  • She goes to the manor, rings the doorbell, and waits. Black Hat opens the door. (By now, Dr. Flug has told him that yes, this day is Halloween and yes, that’s why this shit keeps happening.) He stares down at her, impassive, face giving nothing away. She stares back at him, unblinking behind angry paper eyes.
  • “One moment,” Black Hat retreats back into the house, emerging moments later with a genuine fucking cauldron full of shit. He motions for her to hold out her pillowcase, and casually upends:
    • One (1) completely unopened Nestle Fun Size Halloween Candy Variety Pack (110 Piece Value Bag)
    • One (1) gallon of assorted candy pieces from alternate dimensions (None of the writing is in english, but it still looks tasty)
    • Three (3) yards worth of black licorice (BH’s favorite)
    • Several knives
    • Two (2) grenades
    • One (1) pink taser
    • A couple paperclips
    • $5000 in cash
  • It’s a pretty good Halloween haul. Black Hat denies being flattered. Nope. No way. It was just a good costume, alright?!?
2

Southside High 

Or read it on Ao3 

Pairing: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones 

Summary: Due to the start of Riverdale High’s complex renovations, the school is shut down for one year and all Riverdale High students are forced to attend Southside High.

In an effort to integrate at her new school, Betty goes to a meeting for the Red and Black and meets one of the top Southside Serpents, Jughead Jones.

AU: Jughead Jones is a Southside High student and, therefore, doesn’t know any of the regular Riverdale High students.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A smug, balding security guard smirked at her terse tone and motioned for her to turn back around, “’fraid not, sweetheart. Take off the earrings and come through again.”

Betty clenched her jaw tightly before practically ripping her earrings out in frustration and throwing them in the bin. This was the fourth time she had gone through this absolutely ridiculous probably-not-even-TSA-approved metal detector at the entrance of Southside High and she was now thoroughly convinced this mall cop was fucking with her.

A few Southside High students sighed irritably behind her as she set herself up to walk through again.

But before the guard could motion for her to step forward, an older student sauntered over to him, effectively erasing the cocky grin from the officer’s face as he folded his arms.  

“Enough. Let her through.”

His voice came out as a low growl, a demand not a suggestion, and Betty’s eyebrows raised in surprise. She had never heard a student speak to a person of authority that way and was mildly horrified.

But also impressed, definitely impressed.

The guard bit the inside of his cheek for a split second before quickly motioning her through, stepping back to allow her appropriate space to throw on her ballet flats and jewelry. The student remained unmoved, his eyes dark as he watched her shove her earrings in, ensuring the guard would leave her alone until she was done.

“You good?”

Betty turned quickly to thank him and assure him she was fine, but found herself self-consciously pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

Wow, she thought, her eyes trailing from his gray crown beanie to his striking blue eyes down to his full lips.

He offered a small smile, raising an eyebrow at her stare before turning to head down the hallway filled with students, backs pressed against their lockers to clear his way.

Her mouth fell open when the light hit the back of his leather jacket just right, revealing his bold, stitched Southside Serpent emblem.

Keep reading

change in pressure

Warnings: smut, as per usual. and remember use condoms in real life please.
A/N: y’all can thank @sippingchai for this. it works as a prequel to ‘beneath the haze’. and it’s unedited for now!!


She’s still asleep when he steps out of the bathroom, towel around his waist and toothbrush dangling from his mouth. He drops the towel to the floor as he keeps scrubbing at his teeth, padding over to his bag to grab a fresh pair of sweats. He manages well enough with one hand to tug the gray cotton pants up the stalks he calls his legs, before snapping the waistband against his hips.

He makes his way back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth before going back into the hotel room that still smells of sex. The A/C is blasting on low, which is a necessity for multiple rounds of desperate fucking. But now, out of bed and away from her, he’s cold. So he pulls on a hoodie, completing his “I plan to stay in all day” look, and decides to order room service.

She’s always hungry when she wakes up, especially after a night like the last. He grabs the room service menu from the desk in the corner of the room, then slides back into bed beside her and sits up with his back against the headboard. Shawn looks down at her as she sleeps, still, and he can’t stop the way his gut clenches. She’s naked, with the sheets bunched around her waist and tangled in her legs, her back exposed to the cool air of the room as she hugs a pillow to her chest. He feels like the luckiest bastard alive, having her here with him, taking up space in his bed and pulling the air from his lungs.

If only he could figure out how to tell her that.

He forces his attention back to the room service menu, thumbing through pages until he reaches breakfast. He’s busy debating pancakes vs. waffles vs. both when he feels the bed shift to him. He looks over to her and sees she’s stretching, her eyes still closed as her tired bones crack.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he closes the menu and drops it on the nightstand. “Sleep well?”

She takes a moment to blink up at him, then lets herself yawn before she answers, “I had a dream we found a cat, so I’m kind of pissed that’s not real.”

Shawn barks out a laugh, his head falling back against the headboard. “I’m sorry, babe. I bet it was a great cat,” he looks down at her, the corner of his lips tugged up into a smile. She rolls her eyes a bit, then smiles back as she pushes herself to sit upright.

“S’okay. I’ll just have to keep my eyes peeled for any feline friends we might come across.”

She’s on her knees now, shuffling her way over to him so she can drape herself across him. She stretches one leg across his lap so she can straddle him, then brings her arms around his neck and presses her bare torso against his way-too-fully-clothed one.

“Hi,” she murmurs, her voice caught low in her throat. Shawn thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe.

“Hi,” he replies, and then his hands are on her, sliding up her thighs to cup her ass, giving her a squeeze before moving to her hips, his obscenely long fingers circling her waist. She looking at him, just looking, while her fingers tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck.

Then she’s kissing him, slow and lazy, while her hips start moving, rolling in leisurely circles down against his lap. He kisses her back easily, and he knows she’s wet already, can feel it. She shifts, grinds herself down against his upper thigh, and gasps a little against his lips. There’s a wet spot on his sweatpants from her that’s already sticking to his skin.

He drags his lips from hers, moving along her jaw to the shell of her ear. He kisses, licks her there before pressing his own hips up, letting her feel what she’s doing to him. Letting her know how fuckin’ hard he gets for her.

“Eager this morning, baby?” he murmurs, his fingers curling into the soft flesh on her hips as she tugs at his hair, moaning a bit.

“M’always eager for you,” she manages to purr against his cheek. She scrapes her nails over his scalp while biting down on his jaw, just to make her point. He grunts, grips her hips tighter and shifts his own to press his clothed cock firmly against her cunt.

God, how he wishes what she says were really true.

Her jaw drops, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ when she finally feels his hard length, snug up against her folds. Her eyes are closed, nose brushing his cheek as clenches her thighs, squeezing her legs against his and pressing herself more firmly to his lap.

“You feel that? Feel how hard I am for you, sweetheart?” He growls, sucking at her earlobe as he wraps his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her closer to him as his knees bend, feet flat against the bed as his thighs slide up behind her ass.

“Always get my cock so hard, baby, always– fuck, always get me so desperate for you,” he’s trying to keep calm, but he’s already so fucked for her he’s not sure how long he’ll last like this. He’s really hoping he doesn’t come in his sweats. He hasn’t done that in like… two years. And never in front of her.

He can’t believe the sex they have is nothing but casual, but that’s how they carry on. When he’s on tour and she can join, they’re best friends by day, casual lovers by night. So that’s how they’ll act until she has to go back to work and he has to hop on a jumbo jet to Europe. He wants to tell her it’s not casual for him anymore, that he’s not looking for anything anywhere else other than what he can find with her, wherever she happens to be.

But he doesn’t say that now.

Instead he brings one of his hands to her hair and gathers it in a makeshift ponytail, pulling the thick locks away from her neck so he can get to work on marking her skin. At least now, when he goes, she can press her fingers to her bruised skin and remember all the ways his lips loved her.

She’s gasping as he sucks at her skin, soft mewls falling from her hips as she keeps up the motion of her hips. She grinds down against him, her cunt dragging deliciously along his cock until she stills, her hips tilted forward. With a slight shift, she finds the right angle to work her clit against his the of head his dick, rocking back and forth just enough to give her aching pussy some relief.

Still, he knows the muscles of her cunt are clenching around nothing and that she’ll need him - his fingers or his cock - to really get the job done. So his hands find her hips again, trying to still her needy movements as he presses quick kisses from her neck to her lips. He pushes their foreheads together, muttering her name in a deep, rough voice to get her attention.

Her eyes snap open, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater as her chest heaves with labored breaths. Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in anticipation as she tries her hardest to keep her hips still.

“Shawn,” she rasps, almost desperately. She wants him to do it, to make the first move. To take control, even as she’s perched on top of him. So he growls and pulls her up, away from his lap but still straddling his legs, her cunt now pressing against his taut abs beneath his sweatshirt.

He pushes his legs forward as he lifts his ass off the bed and gets his hands on the waistband of his pants. She’s already naked, so his sweats are really the only thing in the way. He pushes them down hastily, his breathing heavy as he keeps his gaze on her’s, their noses knocking gently as he shifts around.

He doesn’t bother getting them down any further than his calves, because she’s already dropped herself back into his lap. He groans, head falling back as her slick folds slide against his naked cock, finally. He gets his arms around her waist again, his hands cupping her ribcage so he can drag the pads of his thumbs along the full swell of her breasts.

He pulls her tightly against him, fucking his hips up at just the right angle to drag the head of his cock against her clit. She moans and lets him pull her firmly against him, her tits and tummy meeting his sweatshirt. Her head falls forward into the crook of his neck as their hips grind together, her cunt growing wetter by the moment, soaking both her inner thighs and his cock.

He can’t quite believe it, that he can spend all night fucking her and she still wants him in the morning, still aches for his cock buried deep inside of her. He always tells himself his desperation for her is one-sided. But suddenly she shifts on top of him, the head of his cock now snug against her tight hole, and it feels anything but one-sided.

“Shawn– baby, please,” she all but whines against his ear before dropping her head to press wet kisses to the sneak beneath his jaw. Her hips work in tight circles, and the movement causes her cunt to grind against the swollen head of his dick. He groans, his hips jerking up, almost of their own accord. He’s never been able to resist her for long.

His lips are gentle on her cheek as he coos, “Sh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. M’gonna take such good care of you,” he kisses her jaw, then fucks his hips up again, his cock sinking shallowly into her clenching pussy.

That gets her, and she keens for him. Back arching, she presses herself tighter against him and pulls her hands from her shoulders to cup his neck. The muscles in her thighs jump and she sucks in a breath of anticipation, eyes on his, pleading.

He kisses her, swallowing her moans, then slides his cock deeper into her wet heat until he’s bottomed out. They’re pressed so fucking tightly together, her thighs clenching around his hips as her slick pussy grips his cock like a vice. The only thing between them is the stupid sweatshirt he was too impatient to pull off.

His tongue runs along her lower lip as he pushes the sleeves of his sweater above his elbows, readying himself to give her what she needs. He adjust his hold on her, his arms tightening around her waist as he starts an almost unforgiving rhythm with her. He rolls his hips up in a tight, quick rhythm that buries his cock deeper and deeper in her pussy with each thrust.

She not kissing him back anymore, just panting against his lips and focusing on meeting his hips with her own thrusts as she clenches her cunt, the sweet change in pressure on his cock nearly making him lose his control.

Their thighs slap together as her hips rock hurriedly back and forth, and she revels in the way her clit drags against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. She’s getting him soaked like this, her pussy dripping on both his cock and his sweater as she rides him.

“God, baby,” he groans into her hair, not able to stay quiet anymore. “You– you’re so fucking tight on my cock, angel,” he mutters, shifting the angle of his thrusts so he can stroke her sensitive spot with each pass of his dick. He can’t help but growl, “So wet all over me, fuckin’ hell.”

He can feel her nod into his neck, agreeing with him but unable to catch her breath to vocalize it. She’s busy gasping at the feeling of the thick heft of his cock stretching her pussy, his head grazing her g-spot so deliciously each time he fucks up into her. She’s so close to coming, so close to falling apart on top of him.

“Baby– babe,” she pants as best she can, turning her head to press her slick lips against his neck. “Gonna– m’gonna come for you, almost– shit, almost there.”

Her voice is a wrecked whisper and his cock twitches at the sound, his own orgasm drawing close. He keeps one arm tightly around her waist as his pace picks up speed, his cock thrusting into her shallowly, still finding her g-spot over and over.

“Then fucking come, baby,” he commands, pushing a hand between their bodies to press the pad of his middle finger against her aching little clit. He slips his finger up against the tight bundle of nerves beneath her swollen hood and works it in quick, tight circles. He knows the direct stimulation is a lot for her, but he also knows it’s making her pussy clench so lovely around his cock.

Suddenly she stills on top of him and throws her head back, her mouth opening in a silent scream. And then he feels it, feels her pussy spasming tightly around his dick, her muscles fluttering against him. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, despite how overwhelming the feeling is, and watches her instead, watches her fall apart all over his cock.

He’s panting heavily, his hands all over her skin, stroking her in time with the movement of his hips as she comes down. Her hands are in her own hair as she’s still perched on his cock, totally still as she tries to regain control of herself. All Shawn can do is watch, totally fucking mesmerized. And then she’s going again, her hips fucking down against him, working in tight little circles that make her pussy hug every inch of his cock. Fuck, he’s gonna come.

He tells her so much and she smirks down at him before giving his cock a delicious squeeze with the muscles of her cunt. With that, he’s fucking done for. His hips snap up quickly, over and over as he strokes himself through his orgasm, coming with his cock buried deep inside of her.

He doesn’t even realized he’s thrown his head back until he’s coming down, cock twitching inside of her, and he feels her lips all over his neck, his jaw, then finally his own lips. They kiss and kiss and kiss as his cock softens inside of her, but she still makes no move get off of him. He doesn’t care.

It could be hours later, when she finally pulls herself from him with a final kiss and runs into the bathroom. He huffs out a breath after watching the door swing shut behind her and reaches for a tissue from the bedside table to clean himself up.

He’s busy pulling his sweatshirt off, then his sweatpants back up, when she re-emerges.

“I’m thinking,” she starts, as she makes her way back to the bed, her body swaddled in a fluffy white hotel robe, “that we should probably order pancakes and waffles, right? I mean. That was a workout. And you always eat a lot after a workout.” She’s smiling fondly at him as she sits down on her knees next to him, her small hands on his thighs.

She knows him so fucking well, it could make him sick. He wants her to know even more.

He doesn’t say that, though. Never does. Instead, he grins back at her and reaches out to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, babe.”

Just A Little Bit More: A Feysand Mini Fic

A light weight on his shoulder and a short motion out of the corner of his eye is what silences the table.

The wine glass Mor holds pauses en route to her lips. Cassian’s booming laugh cuts off. And Azriel sets his utensils down from where he’d been picking apart the meat with a faint clinking on his plate. Amren alone remains quiet, smirking over her glass of Rhys doesn’t want to know what, the only one who seemed to anticipate this moment.

Rhys looks to his left and finds Feyre with her head on his shoulder and she’s…

Asleep.

His entire body goes still in that moment, his heart the only thing bursting with life inside of him. Feyre’s only been in the Night Court for maybe a month and sleep has been hard to come by. But she’s sleeping now. Next to him. On him. And she seems oddly peaceful about it in a way he’s never seen her before.

He remembers the nightmares. He remembers all of them. But none of the terrors that flashed through him in a flurry of panic and sweat for three months after he came home from that mountain compared to the one he had to wake her up from himself. How Feyre had thrashed on the bed, talons ripping the sheets, the anxiety on her face when she’d finally gotten a hold of herself and had to fly to the bathroom before it all came screaming up her throat.

The blood. The tears. The pain. Miles and miles of pain choking the life out of her and all Rhys could do was sit and watch it unfold, hoping she wouldn’t stop him from rubbing circles on her back until it was over. He’d tucked her in that night, stayed a while. Didn’t leave her side until he was sure she was okay again.

He wonders if this will be one of those times, except…

Keeping his entire body rigidly still, Rhys moves only his eyes and catches Morrigan staring at Feyre. She glances at Rhys and a soft reassuring smile blooms on her face. “You were saying? About Cassian’s last trip to Adriata?”

And that’s that. That’s all she says. And Rhys goes on telling the story that only moments ago had Cassian in stitches about his own antics and Azriel quietly shaking his head.

And the entire time, Rhys sees Morrigan, the cousin who knows every secret he has carried for weeks now, staring at him. Staring at Feyre. Staring and smiling. Because they both know that Feyre can barely fall asleep in her own bed, much less in front of their inner circle. Because they know this means something. Because they know this is the beginning.

Because they know that maybe Feyre had been about to smile too before she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on her mate without knowing it.

And Rhys feels this little seed of hope inside him crack, a tiny sprout peaking out to see some sunlight.

The rest of dinner is pleasant. Feyre doesn’t move once. When Rhys scoops her up to lay her on the sofa so he can go over updated plans for the mortal realms with Azriel on the balcony, she remains ever tranquil. Cassian begins piecing out dessert on the table and Mor digs in before she has even finished plating it in front of her. Amren shakes her head but doesn’t say anything.

Dessert is nearly finished when Cassian cuts off telling his version of visiting Adriata, the table going eerily quiet again. Rhys freezes because he just knows. He felt Feyre even before Morrigan put her hand on him and whispered, “Rhys.”

Feyre twitches on the sofa uncomfortably. Rhys can see her eyes rolling back and forth rapidly beneath her closed lids. Her hands curl into fists and constrict around her chest. Sweat begins to pull across her brow.

He’s up in a heartbeat.

“Feyre,” he says kneeling next to her and his voice is more a sob than a plea. “Feyre, wake up.”

Rhys shakes her. Shakes her until she groans and wakes up, sitting bolt upright, the hands just on the verge of letting those razor sharp talons inch out of her digging into his shoulders as she grabs him. He doesn’t even feel the pain.

“A dream,” he tells her. “It was just a dream.”

She’s breathing deeply. Her eyes flit to the table where Rhys’s friends - her friends now - are watching and quickly flit back to find Rhys’s eyes. They’ve never seen her in such a state of panic. And it terrifies Rhys how she’ll feel about that.

Suddenly, Feyre sucks her lips in and he knows she’s holding it all in. He starts breathing with her, deeply and loud enough for Feyre to hear. She mimics him.

“In,” Rhys says. “Out. In. Out.”

She shakes her head, more at herself than him, and he hears the words past her broken mental barriers.

I’m not going to throw up. I’m not going to throw up. I’m fine. I’m okay. This is okay. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. This is real.

When she murmurs ‘this,’ her talons release on Rhys’s shoulder, but her fingers left in their place give a little tug on his tunic and Rhys instinctively leans forward. He doesn’t move nor stop his labored breathing for her until she slows down, until her lips release, and her grip slackens.

But she’s tired. He can see how utterly exhausted she is despite sleeping all through dinner. A thousand years of sleep might not be enough to erase the kind of fatigue he and Feyre both suffer from.

Feyre looks at him, the blue-grey of her eyes more grey tonight than blue.

She had been so peaceful, he thinks.

Can you take me back? She asks him through the bond. She doesn’t even have to ask him to lower his shields for her to come through. Pl-

Rhys has her in his arms before the word is even finished in their heads. He will never make her beg him for anything. And then without another word or so much as a look at anyone else, they’re soaring off the balcony into a smooth flight through the night wind.

Rhys tells Feyre to look up at the stars, but it makes no difference. She’s asleep again long before they reach the townhouse.

xx

The Lost Legacy of Doom’s Hitscan Enemies

I’m dancing. My feet follow no pattern and make no sound as I glide effortlessly over the terrain, but the rhythm of the Super Shotgun guides my every move. I weave to and fro among the soaring fireballs and scything claws, spotting opportunities, darting near and far, catching hellspawn in efficient point-blank bursts of scattershot. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Somewhere in the back of my head, I’m dimly aware of the familiar noise of a pneumatic door sliding open, barely audible above a tinny MIDI rendition of ‘Fear Of The Dark’. It’s catchier than you’d think.

Somebody roars. I’ve heard the sound enough times to recognise it as a ‘somebody’. Startled, I pivot to catch sight of the new assailants: two heavyset bald men, cradling imposingly large guns, furious piggy eyes as red as their bulky chestplates. Chaingunners. Before I can close the distance, they open fire, tearing an abundance of new holes in my circle-strafing, road-running backside. I put them out of action, but the damage is done. Was that a fair exchange? It’s not as if I could’ve outpaced their shots. Are they a fun enemy design in this, the most famous of all famously fast-paced first-person shooter? My kneejerk response is ‘no’, but Doom—because of course, it’s Doom—is a lot smarter than it seems.

Few games can claim to have lived as long and as healthily as Doom. Of course, it’s had the unwavering support of a community on its side, constantly tweaking and touching-up and doing everything in their power to stop the wrinkles under its eyes from showing, but its simple formula and flexible combat were always going to hold up well against the test of time. Doom has influenced the design of the modern first-person shooter in more ways than I could possibly articulate, with a little bit of DNA in everything from ARMA to Ziggurat, and yet… I feel there are one or two lessons from it that never quite caught on.

See, the concept of the ‘old-school’ first-person shooter, while not especially formally defined, is very much a thing. We’ve seen bits of it in the likes of Painkiller, Strafe, Tower of Guns, Dusk, Desync, Devil Daggers, and yes, even Doom 2016: games that buck dominant design patterns to focus on swift, streamlined, evasive movement, and a host of enemies that force you to make the most of that movement. Out of style, but by no means out of their depth, these games take after Doom more than most, but no matter how much they borrow from it, there’s one particular feature that many seem to skirt around. Something regarded almost with a kind of hushed, ‘we don’t talk about that’ shame, like the uncle at the family get-together who isn’t allowed to leave the country for reasons that nobody’s quite sure of. Hitscan enemies, a regular staple of Doom’s encounters, have near-vanished from the contemporary games that bear closest resemblance to it. What happened?

Well, at a glance, they do seem to clash with the desired experience. Doomguy can outrun a lot of things—many of which need at least fifty supervised hours logged before you can operate them independently—but he cannot outrun bullets, nor buckshot. You can’t dodge a hitscan enemy’s attacks by just going fast; the nature of Doom means that they take no time to pivot and have impeccable aim, other than the inherent spread patterns of their weapons. Your only recourse, it would seem, is to get out of range—a bit of a tall order, in most scenarios—or to take cover, which sounds like it would go directly against the fast, exciting experience of running around with the wind in your hair and a rocket launcher under your arm. ‘Cover’ is a dirty word; one that brings to mind hunkering behind a chest-high wall, plinking away at a succession of targets and crawling out only when a grenade gets tossed into your lap. To be in cover implies one is at rest, without any of the spatial analysis, fast-paced action or thrilling escapes that characterise the rest of the combat. You can see this stigma manifest frequently in retro first-person shooters, which often come hand-in-hand with the attitude that cover is for babies, and charging blindly into battle with your enormous, impenetrable testicles hanging out on display is the only acceptable combat strategy for ‘real men’. You could probably write a hefty tome about how unhealthy pulp action-hero masculinity has seeped through various layers of media and eventually pooled, like a discarded half-finished McDonalds’ thickshake, in nooks and crannies of gaming obscurity, but that’s a discussion for another time.

The thing is, Doom itself doesn’t actually work that way. In fact, it does a number of things to ensure that hitscan enemies don’t stifle the player’s movement, but instead add an extra set of considerations and trade-offs, forcing them to look at the play space—and when and where they position themselves in it—in a more nuanced manner. Like most of the ingredients that go into a first-person shooter, the way Doom’s hitscan enemies work is subject to its encounter design—a surprisingly diverse field, as custom WADs frequently demonstrate—but there are a few qualities to them you can count on in every sensible encounter.

Let’s break this down, piece by piece. Of the five enemy types in the first two Doom games with hitscan attacks, the three most common ones by a large margin are the ‘former humans’: undead soldiers who utilise conventional firearms—provided your definition of ‘conventional’ extends to a portable belt-fed chain gun, I suppose—and have all the durability of a cardboard cutout of Master Chief that somebody left out in the rain overnight. Upon noticing the player, they give a suitably enraged bellow and enter their attack routine: move, pause, shoot (if possible), repeat.

This pattern gives us time. Like a fireball whistling through the air, it gives us a chance to handle our predicament by reacting and moving quickly. It only takes an undead sergeant a few tenths of a second to level his shotgun barrel at yougive or take a bit of bumbling around, as they are wont to do—but in the world of Doom, it’s enough to at least start on a decisive manoeuvre. Doomguy runs quickly enough that you can very likely put something between yourself and your foe before they fire—it doesn’t even have to be a wall; other monsters serve perfectly well—and since the poor daft AI has no concept of suppressing fire, you need only be behind it for the split-second it takes them to return to their ‘move’ state. Consequentially, cover is less about clinging to the warm, comforting bosom of a solid wall and more about rapidly, momentarily repositioning yourself when the situation demands it; diving around corners, circling pillars, making use of the nearest solid thing in a pinch and immediately darting back out again. Taking cover is every bit as much about clever, well-timed movement as circle-strafing a pack of imps, and to be honest, probably demands far more split-second decision-making.

Another quality that’s critical to the success of the former humans is their relative squishiness: you can usually count on a single shotgun blast to put one out of action, and even glancing shots are likely to interrupt their routines long enough to buy some extra breathing room. A crowd can be swiftly dealt with by just raking a chain gun across their ranks—conveniently, the exact weapon dropped by the strongest former human, the Chaingunner—and pointing anything bigger at them is usually outright wasteful. This is key because it means that they’re only a very short-term threat—or, in larger battles where they’re mixed up with other enemies, only a threat for as long as you ignore them. Ducking behind a pillar once to evade a sergeant’s buckshot is a rush, but having to go through the same motion two or three times is stagnation. By letting you remove the former humans from the fight almost as quickly as they appear, Doom lets you quickly lift the restrictions they impose and expand the space where you can freely move, ensuring you’re never tied to one piece of cover or trapped in some godforsaken alcove.

But not every hitscan enemy in Doom goes down so easily, does it, hmm? I’m going to gently refuse to acknowledge the Spider Mastermind—a rare, highly-situational boss that squats unpleasantly at the end of the first game like a cane toad under the wheels of your dad’s Hilux—and instead concentrate on the notorious Arch-vile, whose pale, emaciated, lanky form is enough to set off half a dozen panic alarms in any Martian marine’s head. It’s everything the former humans aren’t: fast, durable, and capable of suddenly blasting half your health clean off from the far side of a munitions bay—to say nothing of its ability to revive fallen monsters, unravelling your work more and more the longer you leave it standing. Crucially, however, while the Arch-vile makes for a more persistent and punishing threat than the former humans, it also gives us much more time to work with. It takes about three full seconds of dramatic posing for an Arch-vile to wind up its hitscan attack—a pillar of infernal fire that explodes around its target—and once again, you are only required to actually duck behind something for the split-second when the attack connects to avoid taking damage. 

Consequentially, while our vitamin D-deficient friend does rather firmly, briefly force players into hiding, it also affords us the opportunity to stretch our legs and take nontrivial actions in between its attacks, giving it a distinctly different effect to Doom’s other hitscan enemies. Between every Arch-vile’s attack, there’s time enough to dart around the immediate area, change cover, take care of some lesser enemies, or—most likely—run up to it and empty both barrels into its repulsive mug. At an abstract level, the Arch-vile clamps down on the player by forcing them to be out of certain zones at certain times, but doesn’t make those zones inherently damaging to cross, like a crowd of former humans does.

Putting everything back together, Doom’s hitscan enemies are designed not to eliminate movement, but to carefully squeeze it; to force the player to take action, moving along vectors towards positions of safety. Restrictions on where in the combat space you can safely be are what make Doom’s fights engaging, and the restrictions that hitscan enemies provide are every bit as important to your positioning as a Revenant’s homing rocket or an Imp’s tossed fireball—they just take a different approach. Yet they’re also designed to ensure you’re never required to linger at your destination a moment longer than necessary, either by being easy to remove from the battlefield, or by only periodically applying their particular brand of pressure. Like every enemy in the game’s toolbox, they can be abused and used outside of their ideal roles—take a peek at The Plutonia Experiment, half of Final Doom, for some truly breathtakingly rude Chaingunner placement—but their basic principles are every bit as valuable as their peers.

Doom will force you to move, but it will never force you to stay. And that’s the philosophy that every first-person shooter should be built on, really.

Hey Bartender (Bucky Barnes x Plus size Reader)

Hey Bartender                                      

Summary: You thought you’d seen it all, heard it all till he walked in one warm summer night and turned your little world on its head.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus size Reader

Characters: Reader, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers,

Setting: future events

Rating: PG13

Warnings: name calling, body shaming, insecurities, language  

Word count: 1,947

Notes: Hello my sweet doves so this little one-shot is for “#Blade’s fix fest” held by the adorable @bookybuns, my prompt is “You own a bar and s/he is one of your regular patrons. Feedback is always welcome and much appreciated.

Tags: If you wish to be taken off or put on any list let me know via an ask or message.

Forever: @winters-buck @angryschnauzer @marvel-lucy @feelmyroarrrr @aquabrie @fandommaniacx @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel @supernaturallymarvellous @supernaturaldean67

Marvel: @sebbytrash @ek823  @melconnor2007 @kanupps06 @badassbaker @geekyweed @creideamhgradochas

Bucky Barnes: @nerdyandproud9 @reniescarlett

Hey Bartender tags: @ggrubi @secondsandstars  @of-iron-and-ink @jasmineladjevardi @peter-pan-hoe @vintage-switch @modestlyconfused @i-should-probably-be-asleep-rn @ashleydivine @flerghfood

Another warm stormy night, the bar mostly empty front door opens and the most unexpected person walks through that door which seen more action than most hookers on a good Friday night after paid day. Chestnut brown hair pulled back into a small man bun, black leather jacket covering broad shoulders, fitted jeans, boots and what looks to be a dark blue Henley under the jacket round out his look but it’s his eyes that trap and hold you. Eyes that have seen more than they should have for one who appears to be so young, yet looks can always deceive.

Watching while he took a spot at the bar just looking around like he’s been here before and trying to make sure it hasn’t changed much. Your dad always kept things as they were hollerin’ about changes being for the birds or something like that. You keep wiping down the old dark stained oak bar, eyes taking in everything and nothing all at once. Always keeping watch for any trouble that thankfully rarely broke out, yet one could never be too careful.

Keep reading

Kiss on the Street: Part 1

Prompt: Jason or dick cheated on the reader bc they are scared of being held down. Then the reader dies but is reincarnated by Talia and the reader has no memories of anything and is just a no-emotions, reckless killer? And it’s up to them to help the reader love again to bring back their humanity?

Words: 1651

AN: I loved writing this, it turned out so differently than I thought it would. I’m really thinking about turning this into a two shot. What do you guys think?


          Your body is moving on its own. The blades in your hands move gracefully through the air, cutting down the people rushing you. Then your body is twisting in the air, and your hand just suddenly stops. The man in front of you looks familiar, and when you meet his eyes, you can’t help but stop.

          You’re confused, he’s making no move to defend himself. You try to move forward, you try to cut him down, but you can’t. Almost, as though in slow motion, he grabs your hands, and suddenly the knives drop from your hands. Then he starts talking and his voice is one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever head. He just keeps saying that it’s all right now, and that he’s going to take you home now.

          You start moving forward, ready to go with him, when you hear the order. Suddenly his voice fades away, and you’re moving forward, your fist striking out and landing soundly on his cheek, and then he goes flying backwards.

          Then he’s fighting back, sort of, he refuses to hurt you, and eventually he’s able to get you into a hold. You’re trying to get out of it when he just yells, “Y/N, stop. It’s me, it’s Dick.”

          Then it all come flooding back; meeting at the precinct, being partners, the one-night stand that led to your relationship, three years of dating, finding out about Nightwing, stumbling across him kissing that woman on the street, being kidnapped, dying, Talia bringing you back, and your training.

          You stop struggling, only to start struggling again. You’re seething with anger. “Would you get off me you stupid, no good, cheating, son of a bitch.”

          Not even a second later, Dick lets go of the hold. “Y/N, is that really you?”

          Getting to your feet, your hands go to your hips. “Of course it’s me. How many other women have you cheated on?”

          He’s silent for a second before saying, “I can explain.”

          You raise an eyebrow at that. “You have a reason for kissing another woman, after we’d been dating for three years?”

          You can see the outline of a blush on his cheeks. “Yes. I can, but now might not be the best time.”

          “And why’s that?”

          “Because there’s an army of assassins behind you, and it’s going to take the both of us to get out of this alive.”

          You let out a small huff, before turning to face the enemy. Between the two of you it’s a rather short fight when everything is said and done. The two of you drop to the ground, but you refuse to go anywhere near the bike parked several blocks away. “I want my explanation.”

          “Right now?” He looks astonished.

          “Are we doing anything else right now?”

          His hands go up in the air. “You mean other than getting you back to the base, to make sure you’re completely okay, and free of any brainwashing?”

          “I’m fine Dick.”

          He looks at you with this astonished look. “You were just taking out guys like there was no tomorrow.”

          That makes you freeze. “Did I kill them?” His expression tells you everything. You don’t realize you’re shaking until you just kind of collapse on the ground. One of Dick’s arms go around your shoulders while the other goes under your legs. Then he’s carrying you, and you kind of just cling to him.

          He smells just like you remember, and you take comfort in that. At some point you just pass out. You wake up several days later, in a hospital bay, in the mountain. Dick’s sleeping in a chair beside your bed, snoring lightly.

          Reaching over, you move one strand of hair out of his face before you flick his forehead. He startles awake and just stares at you, before he lets out this long sigh. “You’re awake.” You just nod. “You feeling okay?” you nod again. “Good, M’gann went through your mind she cleared out all traces of the brain washing. The doctors say you’re in good health, but some of your bones are a little weak from being broken, as well as a calcium deficiency, and …”

          You grab his hand, stopping him mid-sentence “How many people did I … ?”

          He threads his fingers through yours “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t your fault. If anything it was mine.”

          “Yours?”

          “I wasn’t there when they took you. I should have been there.”

          You swallow thickly. It would be so easy to blame him, put everything on his shoulders. But you could never do that, no matter what he’d done, Richard Grayson was a good man. “It’s not on you Dick. I went to a part of town that you warned me about. I was just so mad, I didn’t even give you a chance to explain.”

          He just shrugs “There is no explanation, the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how selfish I was being.”

          “Did you want to kiss her?”

          He doesn’t even hesitate “Yes.” The answer shocks you a bit, but before you can say anything he sets a small little box on your lap, and he nods for you to open it. Nestled inside is a beautiful diamond engagement ring. You’re not entirely sure what to say, and Dick seems okay with that, “I bought that two years into our relationship. I nearly proposed that night, but a Nightwing emergency stopped it.”

          You nod. “I remember that one, that’s when the aliens invaded for the third time I believe.”

          Dick just smiles at that. “That would be the one. After that I just kind of chickened out. It got especially bad when my brothers found out.” You had to resist the urge to growl at that. You’d never been particularly fond of his family. They liked to take advantage of Dick, rib him, and make him feel bad. There was also the fact that they didn’t care for you. You were an outsider, you weren’t part of the bat-fam, as you had dubbed them. You had come from a perfectly regular dysfunctional family, with two loving and very alive parents. That apparently disqualified you from knowing anything.

          It was the same with most of his friends. They didn’t seem to know how to act around you. Despite that fact the two of you still had friends together. The two of you had a normal life outside of crime fighting. Your family loved him, he and your brothers watched sports on the weekends. He helped your dad with projects around the house. He changed the oil in your mom’s car, and she was always baking him pies.

His voice drew you out of the happy memories.“Then, I finally plan the perfect evening, and my brothers find out, and they start in on monogamy, and spending the rest of my life with one woman. And then they started in on how this lifestyle wasn’t fair to you. That you could never be happy with a husband that fought crime, and how you’d want me to give it up. I was still determined to propose.”

He takes a moment allowing you to soak everything in. “Then how’d you end up kissing Barbara Gordon on the street? I mean it was our first date in three weeks. The first time I had seen you in three weeks.”

“I ran into her on the street, and nothing stays secret among the team for long. She’d found out, and realized while I was there. She started questioning me like my brothers had. She wanted to make sure that I had thought about what I was doing. Before I knew it, I was kissing her. And as I pulled away I realized one thing …” At those words your heart stops. “That I loved you more than I thought possible. I felt nothing for Barbra in that kiss. I realized that as long as I had you I could deal with anything that came my way, even quitting being a hero.”

You can’t help but smile that. It’s this big goofy smile, and you only have one question. “What about now?”

He just smiles at you, before leaning in to kiss you. “I love you now more than ever. Thinking I lost you, attending your funeral, it nearly killed me. I didn’t talk to my family the entire time you were gone, and I took a break from the team. I was just so mad. The last memory you had of me was me kissing another woman. The last feelings you had towards me were of betrayal. I understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

You take a moment to let that option sink in before, gripping his chin and forcing him to look you in the eye. “Richard Grayson, you want to know one of the things I love about you? You totally suck at lying, I’m always able to tell, and right now you are telling nothing but the truth.”

He smiles this wide smile and asks, “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah, it’s the cop in me.” There’s a moment of silence before you say, “I’m not ready for marriage yet, Dick. I still have to process everything that happened, and I have to figure out how to tell my family that I’m back and …”

Dick just leans in and kisses you. “And I’ll be there every step of the way. You and me, together forever, and when you’re ready, you can propose to me.”

You nod. “That seems like the smart thing to do. I wouldn’t want you chickening out again. It wouldn’t be good for your ego.”

He just slides onto the bed beside you, and pulls you in for another kiss and just says, “I love you.”

You kiss him back and say, “I love you too Dick.”

whitebeltwriter  asked:

Trini trying to teach Kim yoga but having a hard time cuz Kim is used to fast cheerleading moves and has no patience; 'til Trini stands behind her to guide her through the movements.

Idk how I feel about this one, but here you go!

Kimberly knew she had a hopeless crush on Trini, she knew that she was in deep, that she couldn’t help that she always got lost in Trini’s warm brown eyes, her bright smile after Kimberly made a dorky joke or after their little ‘fights’ over food, the way she always smelled like pinewood and cedar, normally Kimberly didn’t like the smell, but on Trini it just fit, the earthy smell was comforting and grounding, like her, her smug smirk, which Kim wanted to kiss off her soft, smug lips, every time she saw it. She accepted that she liked Trini, a lot, well maybe more than a lot. Trini was always on her mind, whether she wanted it or not, she could not stop thinking about the other ranger, how small she was, how she would fit perfectly in Kimberly’s arms, how adorable it’d be how if they kissed, Trini would have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss Kimberly, how her tiny, soft hands would fit perfectly in her Kim’s. Kimberly audibly groaned every time she had the thoughts, which was more often than not. She knew it was very inconvenient, especially since the other girl was one of her closest friends, and insisted on them training together, which always ended up in Kim getting her ass kicked, cafe ‘dates’ together, were Kim never finished her food, always too busy focusing on Trini, studying together, Kim never got any work done. All these occasions ended in Kimberly getting smacked in the face with the gay, realizing how hard she was crushing on her best friend. Kimberly also couldn’t say no to the other girl, not for the life of her, so when Trini suggested that they do yoga together on top of the cliff face, Kimberly didn’t even hesitate before saying yes. She did happen to notice the stunned look on Trini’s face of how quick she said yes, and she tried to correct herself.

“Uh..Yeah I’d be down, that’d be cool.”

Kimberly utterly failed at trying to compose herself, and she could feel the blush creeping up her neck and face. Trini nodded her head and replied, looking at Kimberly suspiciously.

“Oh..Okay, well I’ll see you here tomorrow after school, four-ish work?” Trini asked, studying Kimberly, who once again answered much to fast.

“Yes..I mean, um..yeah four should work, uh, I’ll see you then.”

She corrected herself, stuttering profusely, her blush intensifying, a small bashful smile spreading across her face. Trini had a small smirk on her face, but it wasn’t smug, more like surprised, as she confirmed.

“Alright Princess, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

She says smugly, before leaving the pit, scurrying up the rock wall. Once Kim knew that she was out of earshot, Kim let out a loud sigh, leaning against the rock wall, sighing loudly, muttering.

“Fuck.”  

“Oh yeah, you’re screwed dude, have fun with that.”

Zack pops out from behind the rock face, causing Kimberly to jump slightly, as he chuckles scurrying up the wall, before she could say anything about him spying on her and Trini. Kimberly would normally be very angry and would chase after him, but she just picks up a lone rock and tries to chuck it at him, sighing exasperatedly as the rock lands just in above of his head, just missing him. Zack looks back and smiles smugly, as Kimberly makes a face at him, giving an exaggerated smile, flipping him off. He chuckled before running out of sight before Kim could chuck another projectile at him, but not without shouting good luck at her. Kim groans again, asking herself how the hell she got herself into this situation, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited, in the most terrifying way possible.

Her phone told her it was four o’clock, and she knew that she had to go see Trini, she knew she shouldn’t bail on her, but everything inside of Kim was telling her to run, to get away, knowing that she was gonna make a fool out of herself, embarrass herself, and then replay it in her head the rest of day. Kim took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare herself, but as she saw Trini, she could physically feel herself getting slapped in the face with how tremendously gay she was for the other girl, or bi, or whatever she was, which was not the priority right now, considering that Trini was standing at the cliff face, in nothing but extremely tight black leggings, which were very form fitting, making it impossible for Kim not stare at her ass, and a yellow tank top, which was basically see through. Kimberly couldn’t look away, her eyes widening, taking in a large breath, trying not to make any noise, as Trini was already doing her poses, seemingly very relaxed. She had to have done this on purpose, she had to have noticed Kimberly’s long stares, how she stuttered whenever talking to the girl, a blush permanently on her face, Trini had to know how much agony Kimberly was in, she was basically torturing her, and Kim could do nothing about it.

She took another deep breath, and as she was about to walk forward ,Trini spoke, her eyes still closed.

“So are you gonna keep staring, or am I actually gonna get a chance to teach you?”

Trini asks, the stupid smug smirk on her face, which made Kimberly want to kiss her, badly, the outfit wasn’t helping either. Kim can’t get any words out of her mouth, just mumbles and stutters, so Trini just nods her over, and they begin, Kimberly’s heartbeat intensifying the closer she got to Trini. This was going to be hell.

Kimberly should’ve known she was going to be bad at yoga, she’s a cheerleader, she’s used to fast movements, her body anxiously waiting for the next formation, she always had to keep moving, but that wasn’t what yoga was about. It was about being calm and centred, not worrying about the outside world, it was slow and gradual, each position held for longer than the other. Trini was balanced perfectly, her eyes closed, her breathing deep and steady, while Kimberly was struggling to balance, her eyes focused on the ground, her breathing uneven and shallow, her heart racing anytime she looked up, considering they were on top of a cliff, only a few feet away from the edge. She was trying, very hard, not to make a sound and balance herself, without disturbing the other girl, who looked so peaceful, but she was failing miserably. She shifted her feet again, trying to regain some balance, and Trini finally said something, her eyes still shut.

“I can literally hear you struggling, Princess.”

There was no trace of irritation in her voice, only enjoyment, as she opened her eyes, an amused smile spreading across her face, as she saw how awkward Kimberly looked, her body contorted in the oddest position. Trini lets out a small laugh, causing Kimberly to huff in frustration, returning to a regular standing position. Trini teases her again.

“I didn’t know your body could bend that way, cheerleader.”

Kimberly felt her entire body flush, having to bite her tongue, her breath hitched at the comment. She took a moment to regain her composure before teasing back.

“Well I’m sorry Miss. I-do-yoga-on-top-of-a-mountain that we can’t all be as well balanced and steady as you are.”

She says teasingly. Trini makes an odd, unreadable face, as if she was taking what Kim said into consideration. She nods her head before stating.

“Okay, fine. First position.”

Trini says simply, as Kim’s face contorts into confusion. She asks, her heart beating faster as Trini moves closer to her.

“Uh..Wh..What?”

She stumbles over her words again, as Trini moves closer, the smell of cedar filling Kimberly’s nose, as Trini says, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“First. Position.”

Her voice was low and sultry and Kim’s breath hitches again. Okay now Trini was defiantly torturing her, on purpose. Kim goes into the first position Trini showed her, her balance off, her feet stumbling, and her breath uneven, until she feels Trini’s hands on her arm, Kim’s back against Trini’s front. Kimberly’s eyes go wide, which thankfully Trini can’t see. As Trini guides Kimberly’s motions, each point of contact sending shivers down Kim’s spine, but her skin also heated up at each point of touch. They fell into a rhythm, as Trini guided Kimberly through each movement, her hands never leaving Kimberly’s body, as Kimberly started to melt into her touch, her eyes shutting closed, as they moved as one, Kimberly’s heartbeat so loud, she was pretty sure that Trini could hear it. Kimberly was able to move through the motions much easier, and as Trini led her through the last motion, bringing Kimberly back into a regular standing position, Trini pulled her hands away slowly, but she didn’t move back, her body still impossibly close to Kimberly, but yet, still not close enough. Kimberly turned around to face the other girl, their faces not even inches apart, the tension around them so thick Kimberly was sure she could cut it with a knife. Trini’s eyes visibly drop to Kimberly’s lips, and instinctively she licks them, as Trini’s eyes slowly moving back to meet Kimberly’s eyes. Kimberly swallowed loudly, waiting for something to happen, the anticipation literally killing her, then Trini moved closer. She moved in slow motion, her lips meeting Kimberly’s ever so slowly, much softer than Kimberly had ever imagined, not like she imagined this, not at all, okay she had, more times than she wanted to admit. The kiss was impossibly slow, it was as if time stopped, all Kimberly could focus on was the feeling of Trini’s warm lips against hers, everything seemingly fading away. Their lips moved together, as one, just like when Trini was guiding her moments ago. As Trini pulled away, Kimberly caught herself chasing after the other girls lips, and as she opened her eyes, she was greeted with Trini’s smug smirk, her breathing shallow, her brown eyes sparkling. Trini is the first to speak, breathless.

“Not bad, Princess.”

She says teasingly, a pleased smile spreading across her face as Kimberly couldn’t help but blush, her face tomato red, and she didn’t care, she didn’t care as she kissed the stupid, smug smirk off of Trini’s face, something she had wanted to do since the first day they met, and all she could say, was that it was as pleasing and fulfilling as she had imagined. Trini had to stand on her tiptoes, trying to kiss Kimberly, and as she did, the world faded around them, all they could focus on was each other, and Kimberly knew, that her crush on Trini was much more than a crush, and she couldn’t care less.

anonymous asked:

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm steamy Destiel sex in hotel bathroom, voices and moans kept quiet due to the fact that Sam is asleep in the other room.

Dean’s been subtly teasing Cas all night

Originally posted by wonderfulworldofwinchester

Originally posted by spn-spam

Originally posted by pretty-awesome-dude

Until Sam goes to bed and Cas silently gives Dean “the look” that Dean knows and loves, the one he was hoping to get all evening, that says “enough, you want it, I want you, now” and walks over to the bathroom.

Originally posted by castielthesoldierofgod

He doesn’t have to wait long, Dean is scrambling off the bed in seconds stopping only to rummage in his duffel for a moment then frantically kicking off his shoes and socks as he goes.

And boy is there a reward once he gets in there, Cas practically slams the door shut as he shoves him up against it, smoothly gliding down his body in one motion…

Originally posted by frozen-delight

With a Little Help

Written for @rareshipcreationschallenge: @ilostmyshoe-79 vs. @otrera-kicks-ass

Prompt: pumpkin spice lattes and severed fingers

Pairing: Sam x Eileen

Warning: typical canon violence, smut

Word Count: 2200

A/N: So much fun writing Saileen! Hope you guys enjoy it! XOXO

“It’s the ring! The ring she’s wearing is cursed!” Sam shouts his words across the room, knowing Eileen can’t hear him. His legs are tensed, struggling with whatever this curse is that has him paralyzed on the floor, like his feet are stuck in cement. By the grace of some higher power, or more likely by sheer luck, his hands are free, and he waves them wildly until he catches Eileen’s attention.

“It’s her ring!” he says again, pointing to his own finger and then back at the woman.

Keep reading

i see you (post Season 4)

Raven gets them down with minimal turbulence as promised. 

“Could have been smoother,” Murphy chirps, unclasping his seat belt. 

Raven groans from the pilot seat casting a bright smile over her shoulder.

“Should have floated you while I had the chance.”

“We gotta move,” Bellamy says, gruff, moving to the hatch. “We need to get to O.”

“Relax, Bellamy.” Harper chides. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Monty nods. “Yeah, Bell. No Grounders trying to kill us.”

“No mountain men.” Echo whispers in disgust.

“No crazy AI’s.” Murphy smirks. 

“No death wave.” Raven finishes. 

Bellamy rolls his eyes and opens the door.

It’s been 6 years and 12 days since they’ve seen the sun and their eyes take a while to adjust to the bright light flooding the cockpit. They climb out one after the other. 

Bellamy’s boots hit the ground first. He breathes long and deep and tears spring to his eyes as he remembers the first time he tasted Earth’s sweet air. From behind him he hears the clang of boots on metal and then six thuds as each member of his family lands back on solid Earth… the twisted mistress. 

“Good to be home,” Emori says looking around at the green forest before her. 

“I thought you liked space,” Harper says pushing her shoulder. 

“I did,” Emori says smiling at her friend. “But if I never go back I won’t be sad.” 

They laugh together. Murphy senses Bellamy’s tension and pokes Monty in the rib. 

“Okay guys,” Monty claps. “Let’s get to Polis.” 

Echo snorts. “What’s left of it.”

Murphy rolls his eyes. “Oh cheer up, Grumpy. Wake up and smell the daisies!”

Raven cocks her head. “What?”

“It’s an expression, genius.” Murphy says rolling his eyes. 

Bellamy squints. “That’s not–”

“Shh!” Murphy drags his fingers over Bellamy’s mouth and strides past the older man as he sputters. He turns when he reaches the tree line. “You guys coming or what?”

                          *                             *                             *

They’ve been walking for no more than 5 minutes when suddenly Echo halts at the front of the group. As an Azgeda spy, she’s able to sense danger from miles away, a trait her space vacation failed to take from her. The others know this… they stop too. Instantly dropping into defensive positions. They don’t have weapons but it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

A figure with red streaked blonde hair drops from the trees, back to them, as she crouches eyeing the forest before them. Her movements are full of purpose yet graceful… almost feline. It’s her. The Princess. They gasp in unison. Bellamy’s heart beats so fast and hard in his chest that if you looked hard enough you’d see his thin t-shirt jump with the vibrations. His voice cracks when he tries to speak. 

“Clarke?”

She turns. Blue eyes meet his brown and for a moment, the last six years and twelve days don’t matter… but then her eyes harden and she turns back to the trees. 

“We have to go,” she whispers. “Now.”

They follow her, of course, when she starts moving perpendicular to the path they were on. 

“How did you…?” Raven wonders, in a daze just like everyone else. She doesn’t finish her sentence but Clarke throws a smirk over her shoulder at her friend. 

“Nightblood.” She answers simply. 

“Are we running from anything in particular or…?” Murphy quips. 

Clarke’s shoulders shake with a startled laugh. “I missed you Murphy,” she says as she throws him a quick glance. “But yes.”

She leads them to a wooden hut. It’s big but quaint, shrouded by impossibly tall trees and covered in blooming algae, the door hidden beneath a thick sheet of the vibrant, green flora. She holds it open and motions for them to go inside never taking her eyes off the trees behind them. Her friends pass her one by one and she locks eyes with each of them, smiling as they pass. 

Bellamy Blake is the last one in. He stops in front of her, gazing down into her blue eyes. He sees the tears well and she smiles. He’d almost forgotten what she looked like. She jerks her head toward the others and he spares one more glance before he goes inside. The door closes with a soft thud. 

Clarke turns… seven pairs of eyes on her. She’d forgotten this feeling. To have so many people looking at her all at once. It’s strange… it stings. Leaves her chest feeling tight and her throat feeling swollen. She doesn’t realise she’s been fidgeting until Bellamy crosses the floor with long strides and engulfs her in his arms. 

They cry. 

The others join the hug. The eight of them circled around the girl with the golden hair. The girl who saved their lives. Whispers of “thank you” and “I’m sorry” float through the air between sobs. 

Everyone steps back. 

Except for Bellamy Blake.

His hands cup her cheeks and he leans his forehead against hers. Her grip on his jacket tightens. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts and it’s hard for her to shake her head with the way he’s holding her face but she does it.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” She says snaking her arm around his waist. 

He smiles. The brightest one she’s ever seen on him… but then it fades. A single tear rolls down his cheek from his closed lids.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he says, voice small. 

“I talked to you everyday,” she says pressing her body closer still. 

“Clarke,” he sobs. “I’m so–”

“No,” she says. Moving her head so that he looks her in the eye. “We’re okay.”

He nods. 

“This is cute,” Murphy says smugly from across the room. “But can you tell us what we were running from?”

“Klark? Ste bilaik yu?” A small voice comes from a room above them. 

Clarke’s eyes leave Bellamy’s for a moment to look up the staircase behind her friends. She looks back to Bellamy her eyes filled with a new kind of emotion and she smiles brightly. 

“Madi, em ste alright. Em ste nou em. Em ste ai friends.” 

A dark haired girl emerges from a dark doorway at the top of the stairs. The others watch as she descends and makes a bee-line for Clarke. She looks no more than 13 and stands proudly at the blonde girls side. 

“This is Madi,” Clarke tells her friends and already she can see Bellamy is in love. “I found her after primfaya.”

Madi nods at the group and they all smile and laugh for two beats, then Raven looks over Madi’s head at Clarke. 

“Clarke,” she says, a crease forming at her brow line. “What’s out there?”

Clarke frowns, a face they’re all so used to seeing. A face they never thought they’d see again. 

“They came five days ago,” Clarke begins. 


BOOM OUT. 

anonymous asked:

can you do shiro smut? its okay if not, you're just really good at it and I'd love to see what you write. you're my favorite voltron writer. <3

Ooh, stop it omg, you’re flattering me too much ///A// I’ve got a few requests for smutty Shiro, and I don’t mind writing it at all! I’ll take this one into my own hands, and just write up a quick thing I just thought of~ kekeke~

Written for a female reader. Also food play?? Idk if it can be considered food play, but throwing the warning out there just in case. Unprotected sex. Also kitchen sex.

Edit: thIS IS FINALLY FUCKIGN DONE WOW I’M SORRY THIs is complete shit but it took me so long to write this–

Hope you enjoy~

– Ryan

There’s another crash resounding through the kitchen as Shiro knocks the empty bowl of cake batter to the floor in a moment of heated passion. It’s always the little things that begin something like this. Like how you decided to bake a cake at 2 o’clock in the morning. Though, Shiro would tell you it was because you decided to wear those short sleep shorts, the ones that tantalizingly show just a little bit of your panties.

And combined with that damned apron and all the cake batter you got everywhere, it was a miracle Shiro survived as long as he had. Teasing him as you pranced around the kitchen, you were fully aware of what you were stepping into, and you had no remorse.

Or shame, really. Holding the bowl so close to your chest as you whisk the batter, he wasn’t sure if you were even trying to hide your cleavage. Then reaching as high as you can for that damn bunt cake mold in the cabinet, he thought he was gonna go crazier with every inch of your skin revealed to him under that thin shirt.

That’s why he had so much enjoyment ripping it off of you. 

Keep reading