when they stand next to each other they look like the at&t bars

Meet You Downstairs

Read on AO3

As Jack descends in the elevator to the basement, it strikes him that he never knew his condo building had a rental suite. Between his hockey commitments and hermit tendencies, there’s still a lot about his own home he doesn’t know despite living here for six years. It’s part of the reason he offered to help out around the building: to keep himself social during the summer season. His parents talked a lot about building a community of friends outside of work, and he knows his way around a toolbox so. Why not?

The basement is… really creepy, actually, reserved for the storage lockers and recycling bins. Even the parking garage is a level up and more inviting than this. There’s only one hallway so Jack follows it, certain he’s going the right way when he hears the voice through the wall.

“It’s fine, Mama. I know you wanted to help me pick out a place but this one is great. It’s in a nice neighbourhood, very secure… Yes, I got your pepper spray in the care package, but please, this is Providence, not New York City.”

Jack doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t help but notice how young this guy sounds. In a building where the average condo sells for over two million dollars, most of the neighbours he sees in the halls are retirees or working professionals. There aren’t many parties, which he appreciates.

He knocks on the cheap wooden door which rattles in the hinges. No wonder they’re renting this room out instead of selling, he thinks. There’s shuffling on the other side, and Jack hears the boy… man say “Goodness, I think the custodian is here already… of course I have pie who do you think I am? Call you back, love you.”

The door opens and there’s a lingering moment of silence as they each look at the person across from them. This guy looks to be a few years younger than Jack, a bit shorter, lean but with well-defined muscles he can see quite clearly thanks to him wearing the shortest shorts that could possibly be considered not-underwear. He’s staring. Oh boy, he’s staring and he needs to not be doing that so he drags his eyes up and they stall on the loose neckline of his tank top.  

Keep reading

‘Parks and Recreation’: Leslie Knope Writes Letter to America Following Donald Trump’s Victory

Dear America,

Amidst the confusion, and despair, and disbelief, it was suggested to me by a very close friend of mine (I won’t say her name, to protect her identity) (Ann. It was Ann) that perhaps a few people would enjoy hearing my thoughts on this election. So I sat down at my computer, cleared my head, and opened a document. Then I started crying. So I had some hot chocolate, and my close friend (Ann) rubbed my back for a while, and I got myself together, and sat down. And started crying. Then more Ann comforting me, and more hot chocolate, and back and forth like that for about six hours or so, the chain of hot-chocolate-and-back-rubs only interrupted briefly when I had to run to the store for more hot chocolate packets (“Just give me all of them, all the boxes,” I remember saying, through tears, to a very scared stockroom boy) and now I am ready to go.

When I was in fourth grade, my teacher Mrs. Kolphner taught us a social studies lesson. The seventeen students in our class were introduced to two fictional candidates: a smart if slightly bookish-looking cartoon tortoise named Greenie, and a cool-looking jaguar named Speedy. Rick Dissellio read a speech from Speedy, in which he promised that if elected he would end school early, have extra recess, and provide endless lunches of chocolate pizzandy. (A local Pawnee delicacy at the time — deep fried pizza where the crust was candy bars.) Then I read a speech from Greenie, who promised to go slow and steady, think about the problems of our school, and try her best to solve them in a way that would benefit the most people. Then Mrs. Kolphner had us vote on who should be Class President.

I think you know where this is going.

Except you don’t, because before we voted, Greg Laresque asked if he could nominate a third candidate, and Mrs. Kolphner said “Sure! The essence of democracy is that everyone—” and Greg cut her off and said “I nominate a T. rex named Dr. Farts who wears sunglasses and plays the saxophone, and his plan is to fart as much as possible and eat all the teachers,” and everyone laughed, and before Mrs. Kolphner could blink, Dr. Farts the T. rex had been elected President of Pawnee Elementary School in a 1984 Reagan-esque landslide, with my one vote for Greenie the Tortoise playing the role of “Minnesota.”

After class I was inconsolable. Once all the other kids left, Mrs. Kolphner came over and put her arm around me. She told me I had done a great job advocating for Greenie the Tortoise. Through tears I remember saying, “How good, exactly?” and she said “Very very good,” and I said, “Good enough to—?” and she sighed and went to her desk to get one of the silver stars she gave out to kids who did a good job on something, and as I tearfully added it to my Silver Star Diary she asked me what upset me the most.

“Greenie was the better candidate,” I said. “Greenie should have won.”

She nodded.

“I suppose that was the point of the lesson,” I said.

“Oh no,” she said. “The point of the lesson is: people are unpredictable, and democracy is insane.”

Winston Churchill once said, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except all those other forms that have been tried.” That is perhaps a pithier and better way to get my point across, than that long anecdote about Mrs. Kolphner. Should I just erase all of that and start with this? Whatever. I’m pot-committed now, and is there extra caffeine in that hot chocolate? Because my head feels like a spaceship. The point is: people making their own decisions is, on balance, better than an autocrat making decisions for them. It’s just that sometimes those decisions are bad, or self-defeating, or maddening, and a day where you get dressed up in your best victory pantsuit and spend an ungodly amount of money decorating your house with American flags and custom-made cardboard-cutouts of suffragettes in anticipation of a glass-ceiling-shattering historical milestone ends with you getting (metaphorically) eaten by a giant farting T. rex.

Like most people, I deal with tragedy by processing the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. My denial over the election results was intense. My anger was (in Ron’s words) “significant.” My bargaining was short, but creative — I offered my soul and the souls of all of my friends in exchange for 60,000 more votes in Milwaukee, to any demon who cared to accept. (Tom told me it was a terrible deal, but I didn’t care, in that moment.) My depression I have already mentioned. Which brings us to Acceptance.  And here’s what I stand on that:

No. I do not accept it.

I acknowledge that Donald Trump is the President. I understand, intellectually, that he won the election. But I do not accept that our country has descended into the hatred-swirled slop pile that he lives in. I reject out of hand the notion that we have thrown up our hands and succumbed to racism, xenophobia, misogyny, and crypto-fascism. I do not accept that. I reject that. I fight that. Today, and tomorrow, and every day until the next election, I reject and fight that story. I work hard and I form ideas and I meet and talk to other people who feel like me, and we sit down and drink hot chocolate (I have plenty) and we plan. We plan like mofos. We figure out how to fight back, and do good in this infuriating world that constantly wants to bend toward the bad. And we will be kind to each other, and supportive of each other’s ideas, and we will do literally anything but accept this as our fate.

And let me say something to the young girls who are reading this. Hi, girls. On behalf of the grown-ups of America who care about you and your futures, I am awfully sorry about how miserably we screwed this up. We elected a giant farting T. rex who does not like you, or care about you, or think about you, unless he is scanning your bodies with his creepy T. rex eyes, or trying to physically grab you like a toy his daddy got him (or would have, if his daddy had loved him). (Sorry, that was a low blow.) (Actually, not sorry, I’m pissed, and I’m on a roll, so zip it, super-ego!) Our President-Elect is everything you should abhor, and fear, in a male role model. He has spent his life telling you, and girls and women like you, that your lives are valueless except as sexual objects. He has demeaned you, and belittled you, and put you in a little box to be looked at and not heard. It is your job, and the job of girls and women like you, to bust out.

You are going to run this country, and this world, very soon. So you will not listen to this man, or the 75-year-old, doughy-faced, gray-haired nightmare men like him, when they try to tell you where to stand or how to behave or what you can and cannot do with your own bodies, or what you should or should not think with your own minds. You will not be cowed or discouraged by his stream of retrogressive babble. You won’t have time to be cowed, because you will be too busy working and learning and communing with other girls and women like you, and when the time comes you will effortlessly flick away his miserable, petty misogynistic worldview like a fly on your picnic potato salad.

He is the present, sadly, but he is not the future. You are the future. Your strength is a million times his. Your power is a billion times his. We will acknowledge this result, but we will not accept it. We will overcome it, and we will defeat it.

Now find your team, and get to work.

Love,

Leslie

band-aid solutions

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: smut, angst, humor

warning: slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!jimin, oral

word count: 15k

summary: It’s said that time heals all wounds, but that isn’t exactly true and sometimes band-aids are all you have. You catch your boyfriend cheating on you and Jimin is more than willing to help you forget him.

✩ a/n: inspired by the drama suspicious partner, check it out if you haven’t already!

Keep reading

Let Me Love You

Originally posted by dean-winchester-crush

Let Me Love You by evansrogerskitten

Dean x Reader 

Reader is getting over a bad breakup and ready for a rebound hook up. Thankfully she meets a gorgeous green-eyed stranger who is down for a night of bliss.

Warnings: This is pure Smut. NSFW, Explicit, hook up sex, fingering, oral, anal play, language, alcohol. So basically my usual. | WC: 3183 | On AO3

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats‘s 2K Follower Challenge, and an addition to my album challenge for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s Album Fanfic Challenge. 


I met Sam when he came to the university library one afternoon. He was sweet, funny, and a little nerdy. It seemed like I never met nice guys anymore. And after my disaster of a relationship and subsequent nasty breakup, it was nice to be interested in someone again.

“So you’ve been in Amherst for a few days?” I asked, shuffling through discarded books on the table.

Sam studied the maps in front of us for a moment, before he focused on my question. “Yeah, my brother and I are working here on a job.”

Keep reading

Ride

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You accidentally let it slip to Bucky that he has great thighs, and he offers you a chance at a ride.

Word Count: 1640

Warnings: thigh riding, language, smut references (my little ones might want to skip this one)

A/N: it’s been a long weekend but it’s late and my mind has been wandering tonight sooo this happened

MASTERLIST

Keep reading

Punk (Chap. 5)


Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2942

Warnings: Same as always

A/N:  FYI on Chap. 4 I had to go back and make a minor change bc of a continuity error.  Bucky’s hair is short (think TJ Hammond style) in this fic and i slipped up an put in a man-bun note (it’s my weakness). Sorry!  Now, back to the story….



Abandoning Wanda in your closet to hunt through the mass of new clothes you’d unceremoniously shoved in there earlier, you raced down the floor towards Nat’s room, ready to call the whole night off after that disaster of a dinner.  You rounded the corner and attempted to stop short but your socks had no grip and you crashed into a wall of muscle.  “Sorry, Sam,” you mumbled.  “You okay?” Sam laughed and steadied you back on your feet.

You heard Bucky snort from behind and winced. Great, he’d just seen you stuff your face full of Chow Mein and apple pie and now he caught you hurdling down the hallway like the giant boulder from Indiana Jones.  “He’s fine,” Bucky clapped him on the back.  “Not even you could crack this thick skull.”  

And with that he pulled Sam’s sweatshirt hood over his eyes and gave him a noogie before guffawing like a doofus and racing past you with Sam hot on his heels.

“Ay yo!  What the hell’s that mean?!” he hollered.  “And don’t touch my hair, man!”  Sam’s voice carried down the hallway as he chased your best friend.  A loud thud and muffled ‘ooof’ confirmed that he’d caught up to him and apparently rugby tackled him in the living room.

Keep reading

Enmity

Bucky Barnes Series
-Your attraction to the brooding Winter Soldier is instant, but when you overhear him talking badly about your appearance those feelings of desire quickly turn to hate.

MASTERLIST

Part One, Part Two, Part ThreePart Four, Part Six

Part Five

Groaning, you sat up on the bed. You’d passed out again, Tony had just been entertaining you about last weeks antics. The last thing you could recall was him imitating drunk Clint before you fell into darkness once more. This time, a smudge of red hair told you you had company once more. You couldn’t quite focus your eyes, the drugs made you drowsy so you rubbed them sleepily, hoping to wake yourself up. You didn’t need a set of eyes to hear her though. 

Keep reading

Not That Drunk

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Drunk confessions

When you go out for a friends birthday and get a little too hammered, Buck to the rescue to bring you home, that is till you make an out loud confession in your drunken state.

@redlipstickandplaid @queenofmirkwoodrealm 
@buckyshattergirl  @chrisevansthedoritobastard 
@holahellohialoha  @almightyunnie 
@imamotherfuckingstar-lord  @iwillbeinmynest  
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @goodnightwife 
@irepeldirt  @yourtropegirl
@bellejeunefillesansmerci @buckyb-avengers 
@winterboobaer  @mrhowardstark
@rileyloves5  @ria132love 
@agentsinstorybrooke @seargantbcky

Originally posted by snowfox934

Keep reading

Study Session

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: “Hey doll… my bachelor exams are next week and I’m so damn nervous, I could cry all day. Would you mind doing an imagine with Bucky, I could really use some distraction.. Maybe where he finds you studying at home all the time and one day he decides to make a surprise and cooks for you two, later he drags you to the bathroom where all is lit with candles and roses and you have a bath together and he does everything to help you relax? You can also add a bit smut if you want :) That would be great” - @diving-down-to-wonderland

Word Count: 1413

Warning: hints of smut

Thank you for the request! To you and anyone else who has exams/tests coming up, you are going to crush them and do fantastic on everything you do, and I am so damn proud of you! <3 

Keep reading

Stony post-cw fix-its recs (MCU mainly)

Since I didn’t have the time to actually create anything for the 10th Anni of Stony, this rec list is my pseudo-contribution.

Since I don’t know how to make it a part of the event otherwise (sorry!), I’m just going to tag @cap-ironman

For more recs, check out this post by @civilwarbrokemyheart. I’m not going to repeat the recs that are already there.

This is in no particular order, and the fics are loosely grouped by absolutely arbitrary criteria :)

Mind the ratings, I guess.

Enjoy!

Keep reading

Ride With Me.

PAIRING: ReaderxBucky! AU 

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: sweating, alcohol consumption. 

So here it is, my new Biker!Bucky au inspired by this  Let me tell you guys, this is going to be a ride from start to finish! I’ve planned most of this but with work I’m not sure how regularly this will be updated. But I will do my very best because I am very excited about this!  

GIF NOT MINE

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

Originally posted by imaginedcmarvel

You stood across the road looking at the building before you; you had to admit it was nothing special. But that’s what made it so, the neon sign had seen better days you were sure. You could imagine it in its heyday, all light up for the world to see. Well the underworld most likely, you never did hang with the ‘right crowd’ as your mother called it. Maybe it was her consecutive ways that drove you away and into the darkness. But still, at least you weren’t attending charity events or sitting aimlessly waiting for your husband to come home and fuck a couple of kids into you. That was never your life and it was never going to be.  Taking a quick look up the street you hurried over to the bar, weaving in and out of a few haphazardly parked motorbikes you pushed open the door with confidence.

Keep reading

99 Problems (2/?)

         Summary : You are an agent that worked alongside the Avengers , with an unusually close friendship with Captain Rogers. What happened when he reveals his true feelings for you before you leave on an undercover mission?  By the time you return from the mission, you’ve missed the events of Civil War.  What happens when you come home and most of your friends are gone? And when they return?

Pairings :  No official pairings yet, but Steve Rogers x reader, Johnny Storm x reader, Tony stark x reader, avengers x reader.

Warnings : swearing, angst,tiny bit of fluff

Italics are memories , & bold is the readers thoughts


                                                   Chapter 2

Johnny doesn’t ask any questions, just holds you hand as the elevator descends. As soon as you’re both out in the cool New York air, your demeanor shifts from gloomy to devious. You turn, sending Johnny a smirk.

“Let’s get this party started, Sparky!“ You excitedly say as you approach is motorcycle. He chuckles, following you and hands you a helmet. You slip it over your head and speed off.

  Johnny takes you to the bar you both usually go to when you have a night out, Night Owl. You always laugh at the lame name but the bar is always fun with him. As you head in, you notice it’s more busy than usual. You eye the bodies on the dance floor, watching the way they move together so sexually. Jesus, do they know they are in public? Johnny pulls you towards the bar, starting your night off with five shots of Tequila.

   Drinks keep showing up in front of you, either from guys sending them over or Johnny being a little shit and telling the bartender to keep them coming. Damn it, Storm. Before you know it, you completely bypass the tipsy stage and land right in the drunk zone. The bar keeps filling with people, pushing you closer to Johnny. He slides his arm around your waist keeping you anchored at his side so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. As you both down another shot, the song switches to something familiar. You can’t remember the name but the beat grabs your attention. You turn to Johnny, trailing your hand over his chest. He raises his eyebrow at you but doesn’t stop your antics.

Originally posted by chrisandchips

“What do you say Storm, you up for a dance?” He laughs, grabbing your hand and guiding you through the crowd to the center of the dance floor. He pulls your body against his, leaving no space. You gasp as your chest pushes against his as his hands grip your waist. You both begin moving to the music, your bodies moving in sync with each other. You whirl your body around, pressing your back to his chest. You think you hear a moan from him but you ignore it, starting to grind your ass against him to the music. His grip tightens on your hips and he moves his mouth to your ear, sending chills down your spine when he grazes it.

Originally posted by pleasingpics

“I didn’t know you liked dancing, babe,” he says into your ear. You lean your head back against his shoulder and place your hand over one of his at your waist, pushing you against him harder. You can feel his clearly hard dick pressing into your ass and this time the moan comes from you. You dance against him for a few songs until you’re both over heated.

He leads you back to the bar and orders the both of you waters as you check your phone, not believing how late it is.

“Johnny, it’s 2am already!” you tell him as he hands you your water. He sends you a smirk then downs his water.

“You ready to get out of here, princess?” You roll your eyes at the pet name.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You head out, but when the cold air hits you both you realize how drunk you are. There’s no way Johnny can drive a motorcycle now.

“Alright, let’s find a cab,” you sigh, but he grabs your hand stopping you.

“Orrrrrrrr we can walk back my place and just stay there tonight.” He points his thumb over his shoulder and you can see the Baxter building (Home of the Fantastic 4) within walking distance.

“Fine, but you’re giving me a piggyback ride, human douche.” Your tone is nothing but playful. Johnny crouches down and you jump onto his back. He starts walking towards his building as you rest your head against his.

Originally posted by selena91lorena

“You know, when we get home you can have a different kind of ride.” You giggle then flick his ear.

“Behave yourself, Storm. Or I’m going to stay with Ben, ” you threaten. Johnny scoffs and mumbles to himself. His and Ben’s relationship is a bit rocky. No pun intended. He teases Ben about being ‘The Thing’ and his orange, stoney appearance constantly. Their friendship consists of pranks, arguments, and sometimes loving moments. You get along with the entire team: Ben, Sue Storm-Richards, and Reed Richards. They’re just like a slightly altered version of your Avenger family.

When you guys finally get up to his floor, he sets you down. You both go straight to his room, exhaustion from the night setting in. He goes in his draws, flinging a pair of flannel pants and a black t-shirt at you. He grabs clothes for himself and stays facing away from you to change. You blush when he takes off his shirt, quickly turning to give him the same privacy he gave you. You begin changing, pulling his shirt over your head, and as you go to step into the pants you hear a long whistle come from behind you. You snap your head up, catching Johnny’s eyes trailing over you panty-clad ass.

“So that’s what was pressing against me… can’t say I imagined anything less perfect.” You blush and pull up the pants and flick him off. You both fall into his bed, moaning as your bodies hit the mattress. He shuts his lights off and turns his body away from you. As you’re about to fall asleep, his voice startles you.

“Aren’t you going to be the big spoon?” You laugh but move you body to his. You wrap your arms around his waist, curving your body flush against his.

“Goodnight, princess,” you whisper. He begins to reply but you nuzzle your face into his back and pass out.

Originally posted by shipsmania


  When you both wake up the next morning, you go to the bar to retrieve his bike and he takes you back to the tower. You leave him with a kiss on the cheek before walking towards the doors. You hear footsteps nearing you and familiar voices appear with them. They would be getting back at the same damn time. What did I do to deserve this? Bucky, Steve and Sam join you while you’re waiting for the elevator. You look to all of them, taking in their sweaty, hot as hell appearance. Damn it Y/n, stop it. You’re mad at him, stop ogling his sweaty, beautiful body. You shake out of your mind when the elevator dings and you all file in. You stay towards the front as they stand behind you.

“Walk of Shame, Y/n?” Sam playfully asks as he pokes your side.

“Don’t be jealous Sammy, I still have enough attention for you babe.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush. Bucky smiles, watching the interaction, but Steve just glares at your clothes.

Originally posted by hopeinloveinfinity

“Besides, can’t be a walk of shame if nothing scandalous happened, Wilson.” The elevator dings on your floor and you walk out of the elevator and straight to your room. You flop into your bed, thoughts of Steve swirling around. A knock on your door saves you from your own mind.

“It’s open,” you say, leaning up on your elbows. Wanda enters, still in her pajamas.

"Did you just get home?” she asks as she lays next to you.

“Yeah, I ended up crashing at Johnny’s last night. It was closer the bar we went to.”

“So that man, Johnny Storm, is he your boyfriend?” she questions hesitantly. You snort at her assumption.

“No, he’s just a friend. I was going to introduce you but I just - I needed to get out of here last night…“

"I understand, but aren’t you going to at least talk to Steve. Y/n, he-”

“Kissed another woman after telling me he loves me. I don’t care what he has to say Wanda, he actions say everything.” You both go silent, neither of you know what to say now.

“You up for breakfast?” she breaks the silence.

“Hell yeah! I’m going to change real quick then let’s go make some waffles!” You leap out of your bed and switch Johnny’s pajamas for your own. You tug on your pajama shorts and your usual sleep shirt. It was a navy blue Brooklyn shirt Steve gave to you a while ago. You sigh, grabbing Wanda’s hand and dragging her to the kitchen. You both shuffle around, grabbing all the ingredients for waffles. You have FRIDAY play music and you both start dancing as you cook. You end up with four giant plates stacked with waffles.

Originally posted by bethesong

“FRIDAY, alert the team there is waffle please.” The AI does as you ask and soon the kitchen is buzzing with conversation between the team. You all sit around the table eating and laughing. You hear the elevator door ding.

“Honey, I’m home!” Johnny? You abandon your waffles and meet him halfway.

“What are you doing here?”

“Maybe I missed you.” You fake gag at him. He laughs then pulls your phone from his pocket and hands it to you.

“Figured this wouldn’t be any good to you from my apartment.” How did I forget my phone? You wrap your arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.

“You’re a lifesaver, Johnny. I don’t care what your sister says about you,” you joke. He rolls his eyes, but before he can make a retort you ask if he wants to join you for breakfast.

“No, my sister needs me to try out a theory Reed has about my powers. I just didn’t want you to be phoneless.”

  “Don’t set anyone on fire this time, alright?” you warn, remembering the last time he was testing his flames with Reed. Before you sit down, a hand swats your ass. And not just any hand, a burning hand.

 “Ow! Damn it, Johnny! That the third pair of shorts!” You fan the smoke from his handprint seared into your shorts. Johnny is already running out of the kitchen but you chuck a waffle at his head, successfully (but barely) hitting the back of his head.

“Bye guys!” he yells from the elevator. You roll your eyes and sit back down. When you look up, all eyes are on you. Questioning looks and smirks are all you see.

“You and Hot Head, huh?” Clint asks as he stuffs a waffle In his mouth.

Originally posted by fanfic-shiz

“It’s not like that. Johnny just - he’s a good friend. What was I supposed to do? You all left. I’m way too needy and Tony wasn’t giving me enough attention.” you shrug, receiving laughs from them. Steve looks slightly relieved, making you angry. What right does he have? Shouldn’t he be screwing Sharon by now? Wanda shoots you a glare as she hears your thoughts. You send her a ‘whoops’ face. You volunteer to do dishes, so as everyone leaves you begin gathering the plates.

“Let me help.” Captain Manners always trying to help a damsel. You roll your eyes at the offer.

“I’m a big girl, I think I can handle doing the dishes alone, Steve.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying you don’t have to.” You sigh, dropping the plates angrily into the sink.

“Steve, just stop. Stop doing whatever you’re trying to do.” You lean yourself against the counter across from him.

Originally posted by 23onetreehill12

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just let me explain Y/n, it’s not-”

“You don’t need to. I wasn’t your girlfriend, you can kiss whoever you want Rogers. I’m not your fucking keeper,” you spit out. He moves forward, caging you between his arms and the counter. Your eyes go wide as you look to his.

"How are you so fucking hard headed!?”

“It’s a gift, really.” you sass back. You see a mischievous look flash in his eyes. Oh boy, what is he up to?

  “Fine, you said I could kiss whoever I want?” You raise your eyebrow at him, not understanding what his angle is. His hand moves to cradle your cheek, pulling your face closer to his. For a second, you let the feeling of missing him get the best of you but then you snap out of it. As his lips are about to touch yours, you place both hands on his chest and push him back.

Originally posted by never-let-that-go-hold-on-that

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His mouth opens but you aren’t about to listen to his shit.

 "You really are something else, Steve Rogers. You think after telling me you love me and kissing someone else, you can just waltz back in here, kiss me and everything will be alright?“ you yell. You didn’t notice Bucky and Sam re-enter the kitchen.

"Y/n-”

“No! Fuck you, Steve. You were my best friend. I was content with being just that. You’re the one that told me you love me, you’re the one that kissed me, you’re the one that chose to kiss Sharon Fucking Carter. Not only did you just lose my respect, but you lost our friendship.” You storm past Bucky and Sam.

“I hope she was worth it!” you yell over your shoulder.

  You stay in your room for most of the afternoon, the mornings events on repeat in your head. You called Johnny right after leaving Steve in the kitchen and told him what happened. He offered to set Steve’s motorcycle on fire, but you declined (even though you both knew you wanted to say yes). Now you’re just staring at your ceiling, debating what to do with the rest of the day. FRIDAY’s voice appears, making you squeal from the shock.

“Agent Y/n, your presence is being requested in the communal kitchen in five minutes for a team meeting.” A meeting in the kitchen? What’s the point in having a conference/meeting room, Stark? Whatever.

“FRIDAY, what is the meeting concerning?” “I’m not at liberty to say but Secretary Ross will be attending.” Ross. Oh this is going to be a blast.

  Since the events resulting from the Accords, you’ve been itching to get your hands on Ross. The man chased after an innocent man, imprisoned your friends, and while containing them he mistreated them, mainly Wanda. Anger swims through your body at the thought of Wanda being restrained and, from what you hear, muzzled for awhile. You get up, changing out of your pajamas into your usual ripped jeans and a tee. You grab one of your throwing knives from your drawer and hide it in your back pocket. Never know what can happen.

  You leave your room and head to the kitchen ready to rip Ross apart. You enter the kitchen, keeping your face emotionless, and see the rest of the team is already present. Everyone seems tense which is understandable.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get started!” Tony says, clapping his hands together. Ross steps forward now, a stern look on his features

. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet in the kitchen. I wanted a less… stressful mood and the conference room didn’t seem to give that.” You roll your eyes but continue listening. “I’m here to discuss the return of the team. Since you’re in the states now you have rules to follow.” He pulls out a few papers and places his glasses on.

“Rule number one: Barnes is not to attend missions alone. We cannot risk him compromising a mission if something triggers his…other personality.” He is really going to single Bucky out? This sounds like a different form of Accords. You release a dry laugh, pulling his eyes to yours. As you go to open your mouth, it seems Steve beats you to it.

“Even after everything, after proving Bucky is innocent, you have the nerve to make rules against him?” You can tell by his tone and the way his hands are fisted at his side that he’s barely containing his anger. And the show begins. Get him, Rogers.

Originally posted by stallingdemons

  “He’s a risk, Rogers. Anything could set him off. You’re biased when it comes to this, don’t you think?” Ross argues, pulling another laugh from you.

 "Is something funny, Agent?“ You smile.

"You think Steve is bias then what about me? I don’t even know him.” You look to Bucky, then continue, “You have to nerve to single out Barnes after he was wrongly accused in the first place? His mind was cleared of the trigger words, so what’s the problem? He is a war hero and a victim. We should be helping him, not singling him out and excluding him. That rule is such bull sh-”

“Y/n-” Steves captain voice sends chills through you. Fuck, I love when he uses that voice. Damn it, focus. How is he managing to stay level headed? I don’t even fucking know Barnes and I’m about to explode for him. You send Steve a look silently telling him now isn’t the time to hold back.

Originally posted by msdevindanielle

He appears to get your message, his posture gets even straighter as he confronts Ross. “She’s right, you’re making it sound like the tiniest thing is going to set him off. The doctors worked incredibly hard to make sure that doesn’t happen. The chances of him slipping are barely higher than any of ours. So why don’t you take these rules and rethink them before you step into our home and demand such offensive things, Secretary,” Steve says, holding Ross’s attention. 

  You move, standing next to Steve, arms crossed over your chest. Even though you are still sticking to what you said earlier about the friendship being gone, you have to stick by him to protect Bucky.

  “You heard the Captain. Pack your papers up, the doors that way.” You point in the direction of the elevators. Ross seems to snap.

 "Control your girlfriend, Rogers, before she gets herself into trouble.” He turns to glare at you. “Do I need to remind you that you didn’t sign the Accords either, Y/n? You should have been thrown in jail with the rest of them.“ That’s it, gloves are off. You slam your hands against the table,

 "What are you going to do Ross, put me in restraints and muzzle me like you did to Wanda? Or let your guards throw me around like they did to Sam? These rules are shit. Who are you make these? I don’t see you out there risking your ass to save the world, so why don’t you take your rules and shove them up your ass."  You turn to leave but Ross starts up again.

"They broke the law, they deserved to be there. Being heroes doesn’t exclude you from following laws. Restraining Miss Maximoff was a necessary precaution, she is a danger-” You whip yourself around, throwing your knife and embedding it the wall next to Ross’s head. Everyone’s eyes are wide. Steve is behind you within seconds, his arm around your waist pulling you back. You glance over your team, taking in the tears in Wanda’s eyes and what you think to be a look of gratefulness on Bucky’s face.

 “Calm down, don’t give him the satisfaction, Doll.”  Steve says, is lips close to your ear. You feel his grip tightening like he knows you’re going to lunge. You know the action wasn’t meant to be so intimate, it was suppose to stop you killing Ross; but Steve made it seem a lot more than that. You feel him move closer to your ear again, but you shoulders tense at the action and you push out of his grip. Because that didn’t feel weird. His words calm you, but not enough.

Originally posted by couplenotes

“I’m not going to warn you again. Take your papers and get out,” you growl. Ross leaves the papers on the table but moves to leave.

“This isn’t over,” he threatens as he passes you. You’re damn right this isn’t over.

 

Originally posted by karalynward

@cashewboys @marveldcmistress @half-bloods-only @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @urpaperteen @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @skeletoresinthebasement @ladydarcyofcamelotandasgard @ogoc-pics @omgpandagirl14 @cate-lynne @hollycornish @advorepayne @dryerpet @nikasatrash @ravenclaw-geek24 @hillrich @sammnipple @elaacreditava

@maygenjayne1 @justanobody99 @owhatshername1 

Trent| Lucky |Seven

Title; Lucky

Pairing; Trent Seven/Reader

Words; 3256

Summary; “… Because every romcom and sitcom says so! Things would get awkward and weird and then someone moves out and then we never see each other again.”

Warnings; NSFW. Fluff (i think idk i’m bad at it). Smut. Here be no plots. 

Author’s Note: oh hello. its me. doing things again. stuff is happening in the next couple weeks. prepare for some fast and furious stuff. leave some noise and kisses.

Tag Train:

@alexablss  @laochbaineann  @bettergetusetoit
@fuckyeahbulletclub  @covergirlcollarbones  @thedeboniardevistation@amaranthine-reign  @leelakoiwolff @crookedmoonsaultpunk
@princess3733 @britishscoundrel
@bbmbabe  @alexahood21  @mrsuniverse
@sorleino   @sweet-and-stormy
@imaginingwwesuperstars  @wrasslin-x@iloveenzoamore@crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans@tomsbookitten  @sarahmatthews7
@littledeadrottinghood   @wwelife0014
@alexispoo  @sjwriteswrestling-1
@wwesmutdonedirtcheap @50shadesofadamcolebaybay
@screamersdontdance  @wwe-smutfics
@alexahood21  @tmsixone   @daintymissdevitt
@mistressbalor @nickysmum1909  
@wwewritings   @mgswdw  @finnbaelorxx
@shadow-of-wonder @valeonmars
@neeadinghugs @squirrel666 @jenn0755  @actualamyautopsy @roserae527 @ladylillianrose  @panicattheambrose
@thebutterflygirl16   @catie-kaboom   @aye-its-shaianne  @breezy14fan @lindseyrae20  
@blondekel77  @skrillexslays13  @lisa-likes-wrasslin  @danikajessyfandoms  @charismatickilljoy
@sunflowers-and-swear-words  @atravelerinspirit
@beckyylynchs  @baeckyshorsewomen  @darkgalaxy14@hushothermuses @superrezzy00  @blood-fells  @nerdy-cinnaqueen
@eleonora-dsb  @somewhere-in-ambrose-asylum
@little–alphabet–boy @chloebowiee   @shieldgirl95

Originally posted by samizayn

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I have an idea for a sweet/sad prompt. Reader is a stranger that randomly dials numbers when she's soul achingly lonely and has managed to get the Skelebros on different occasions. She admits somewhere in her call why she's doing it. Maybe they run into each other, as a broherd or individually.

@vivacious-hyena  Sorry this took so long to finish, but I hope you enjoy it! <3  It was a ton of fun to write!


UF!Sans:

The first time you call Sans, he humors you.  His voice is thick and groggy, like you woke him up, and you feel guilty, but he brushes your concern aside.  "yeah, i jus’ woke up, but hey.  wakin’ up to a pretty voice is almost like wakin’ up next to ya, so i’ll let it slide.“

He flirts with you pretty heavily the entire phone call, and the more alert he gets, the more dirty puns he comes up with.  You’re blushing, but emboldened by the anonymity of the encounter.  You flirt back.

"is this somethin’ you do often?  callin’ random numbers to flirt with strangers?”

“It’s just something I’ve always done when I was feeling especially lonely.”

Sans can relate to that feeling.

The second time you call Sans, he’s drunk at a bar.  You can hear a lot of noise in the background, but he sounds like he’s in a good mood.  He flirts immediately, but then you hear someone else’s voice in the background… and you realize he was flirting with them instead.  You shouldn’t feel an irrational surge of jealousy–of rejection–but you do.  

You hang up.

Months pass before you call Sans again.  You’re not even sure why you saved his number in your phone.  You’re just feeling particularly lonely and want someone to joke around with you, to make you feel like you’re wanted.

You don’t expect Sans to remember you, but he does.  He sounds like you woke him up again, and it makes you wonder if he does anything but sleep and drink.  You actually blurt that out, but instead of feeling insulted, he just chuckles.  The deep sound of mirth does something wonderful (and terrible–you shouldn’t feel this way over a disembodied voice!) to your insides.  

“why don’t'cha join me?”

“For which one?”

“both.”

You’re in a low enough place that you accept on the spot.  

The next thing you know, you’re all dressed up and at a bar with a purple fire elemental serving up the drinks.  He told you to wear something red, so you’ve got on a vibrant red dress (or a red tie or red shirt–take you pick).  After a few moments of sitting at the bar (and ordering the most delicious monster alcohol you’ve ever tasted; that flamesman is a miracle worker), you feel a hand graze across your back, and you turn to face…

A skeleton monster.  He’s smirking, his teeth sharp and a golden canine glinting in the flamesman’s light, and his crimson eyelights flick up and down your body appraisingly.  From the way his grin widens, you can tell he likes what he sees.

You’re still staring, flabbergasted.  You didn’t expect him to be the living dead.  

“heh, sweetheart…”  His voice trails as he takes a seat on the barstool beside you. “why don’t you take a pitcher?  it’ll last longer.”  He chuckles, and the pun is enough to shock you out of your trance.  "seriously.  let’s get a pitcher of something and chat.  name’s sans.  sans the skeleton.  probably shoulda mentioned that bit on the phone, huh?“

When you shake his hand, he actually gets you with an electric buzzer and then laughs.  "don’t look so shocked!  it’s jus’ a buzzer, doll.”

He’s right.  You’re going to need more alcohol to get through this.

You end up matching Sans shot for shot.  He drinks you under the table.  You tell him all about yourself, why you feel the way you feel, and regale him with other tales of people you’ve called in the past.  You divulge your secrets, and his grin tightens.  He tells you jokes and dirty pick-up lines, and you flirt and flirt.  You get handsy, curious about the feeling of his bone and how his face can seem so animated.  "Bone shouldn’t be this pliable.  It just shouldn’t.  Shit, I’m hitting on a skeleton,“ you slur, your fingers dangerously close to his eyesockets while you explore his face, and his hands loosely grasping your wrists.  "Can.. can you even..?  Do you even have…?”

“why not find out first-hand?” he prompts with a wicked grin and a shrug.

And you do.  Oh, you do.  

(It turns out he does have the goods.)

And by the time a tall, boisterous skeleton runs you off in the morning, while you’re cringing and trying to shhhh him because your head is killing you, you begin to have regrets.  You’re not a one-night stand; you can’t believe you actually think he’s charming, and now that he’s gotten what he wants, he won’t–

But then he calls.

UF!Papyrus:

The first time you reached Papyrus, he was annoyed.  How did some stranger get his number?!  He didn’t buy the ‘random coincidence’ bit and thought it was a prank–or someone just trying to rattle him.  

“DON’T EVER CALL THIS NUMBER AGAIN!!”

The second time you call him, you’re not entirely sure why.  Maybe you were feeling particularly down and just wanted someone to kick you further into the abyss.  He can hear it in your voice, and even though he’s frustrated (“YOU AGAIN!!”), he doesn’t automatically hang up.  He rattles off a list of people he suspects you to be, and when you deny each one, he starts to believe you.  

“That’s a lot of people that you assume would mess with you,” you remark, and he scoffs.

“IT’S TO BE EXPECTED OF THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!  EVERYONE IS INTIMIDATED!  THEY ALL END UP BEING IN MY SHADOW, SO OF COURSE THEY’D DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS!”

“How can you be great and terrible at the same time?”

He proceeds to tell you about his exploits in the Royal Guard for the next hour.  He barely even takes a breath.

The third time you call him, you’re having a Bad Day.  "I SHOULD’VE KNOWN YOU WOULD CALL AGAIN!“

You don’t return the greeting.

"HUMAN?”

Papyrus listens to you cry for nearly a half hour.  You only know he’s still there because you can occasionally hear the scrape of the phone against the side of his face.  You didn’t even know he could be that quiet.  

“…Sorry,” you end up murmuring, before you hang up.

A week passes, and you’re too embarrassed to call him again.  You beat yourself up over your moment of weakness–of showing him such an ugly side of yourself.

But that night, he calls you.

You’re shocked to see his number pop up on your phone, but you answer anyway.  Immediately, he blurts, “WHERE ARE YOU?”

“E-excuse me?”

“WHERE ARE YOU?  MEET ME SOMEWHERE.”

The request seemingly comes out of nowhere.  You end up complying and giving him a location to meet you, and when you do… you immediately recognize him just from his confident stride.  And holy crap, he’s tall and scary-looking.

“I didn’t expect you to be a skeleton monster.”

“I EXPECTED YOU TO BE A WEAK HUMAN, SO AT LEAST ONE OF US WAS CORRECT.”  He glowers down at you, his expression a constant scowl.  You begin to rethink this meeting, but something in your own expression causes his gaze to soften slightly.  "…COME ON. I MADE RESERVATIONS,“ he claims, gesturing for you to follow.

Papyrus treats you to dinner, and throughout the meal, he prods you into talking about yourself.  He even pays for your half, despite your insistence that it’s not necessary.  Afterward, he takes you on a walk through the town, simply meandering along the sidewalks.  You’re bolder now and end up talking the entire time, while he listens in contemplative silence.  

At the end of the night, he pauses, his face turning a shade to rival the tattered scarf wound around his neck.  ”… THIS DATE HAS BEEN SUCCESFFUL, HUMAN.  I KNOW THAT YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO RESIST WANTING ANOTHER ONE WITH SOMEONE WAS GREAT AS I, SO I’LL SAVE YOU THE AGONY OF BEGGING AND CONCEDE.  YES, WE CAN GO OUT AGAIN THIS WEEKEND.“

You stare at him, flabbergasted for a full thirty seconds before you stammer, "T-this was a date?!”

He calls you every day after that.  

US!Sans:

Sans is beyond excited that you’ve called him.  He instantly wants to know all about you–what’s your favorite food, your favorite color, do you like puzzles, what’s your opinion about glitter?  When you ask him about himself, he informs you that he’s the MAGNIFICENT SANS.  After a while of talking, he declares that he realizes the TRUE INTENT of your call.  

“YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME!  IT’S CLEAR THAT WE’VE MET BEFORE, AND YOU’VE JUST BEEN TOO SHY TO APPROACH ME!  THERE’S NO REASON TO BE INTIMIDATED BY MY MAGNIFICENCE!  OF COURSE I’LL BE YOUR FRIEND!”  

He says it with such genuine sincerity that you grin and agree.

Sans texts you every day after that call, his messages in ALL CAPS followed by several exclamation marks.  His excitement is contagious, and his cheerful messages brighten your day.  If you don’t call him at night, then he calls you.  He always asks about your day, and even the little menial details intrigue him.  You feel as if he really listens to you–that he actually cares about the conversations you had at work or the stupid pictures you laughed at online.  

He sends you pictures of puzzles, followed by selfies of him grinning broadly with a man in an orange hoodie photo-bombing the background of each one.  You’re surprised to discover that he’s a skeleton, but when you send him a selfie back, you find that he thinks humans are fascinating.  You’re given the green light to ask all the questions you want (“Why do your eyes sometimes look like stars?  How do your cheeks puff out?  How do you eat?  What was it like Underground?”) and he asks about your life on the Surface and what you thought when the barrier broke.  

Somewhere along the conversations, you admit to him that you feel less lonely ever since you called him.  He sounds so proud and so excited when he responds with, “THAT’S GREAT, HUMAN!!  I’M A MAGNIFICENT GUY, AFTER ALL, SO OF COURSE I’D BE A MAGNIFICENT FRIEND!  AND YOU KNOW… YOU’RE VERY MAGNIFICENT YOURSELF, SO IT WOULD BE A TRAGEDY FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO FEEL LONELY!  IF YOU EVER FEEL THAT WAY, CALL ME IMMEDIATELY SO I CAN FIX IT, OKAY??”

And you do.  Even in the times when you don’t feel like you should bother him, he always seems to call you first.  You get so close to him, that when he invites you to have lunch in the park, you accept without hesitation.  You end up on a picnic with him and his brother–and you even meet Alphys, a reptilian monster with even more spunk than Sans.  She convinces both of you to run laps around the park while her girlfriend Undyne and Sans’s bro Papyrus lie in the shade and watch.  They’re all really accepting of you, and you… don’t feel so alone anymore.  

That night, when Sans walks you home, you slip your hand into his.  Surprisingly, his face lights up a bright blue that glows in the dark, and you laugh and call him a nightlight.  He gets flustered and pulls his hand away, so you end up walking with your arms around his neck, jokingly trying to console him.  Blueberry grabs your arms and swiftly pulls you onto his back, and then grins as he gives you a piggyback ride home.  

When he drops you off, you kiss his glowing cheek and thank him.  His face glows even brighter, and he remarks confidently, “MWEH HEH HEH, FOR SOMEONE AS STRONG AS THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, CARRYING YOU IS A BREEZE!”  

You score a solo-date with him that weekend and exceed all of his standards with your sheer Dating Power.

US!Papyrus:

Stretch realizes you’re a stranger the moment he picks up the phone.  After all, there are very few people that actually know his number, and those that do know that he’s a texter rather than a caller (with the exception of his brother; he’ll always answer his phone calls).  He was expecting you to be a telemarketer he could mess with, so he starts off with his usual “is your refrigerator running?  ok, i’ll bring the brewskis over.”

“Okay, bring 'em over.  I’ll drink with you,” you reply, and he realizes quickly that you’re not attempting to sell him anything.  He chuckles in his surprise and starts chatting with you about drinks–then honey, then sweets, then about how you sound sweet.  His voice is smooth and relaxed, his chuckle rich and amused.  You like his voice, and closing your eyes, you’re able to imagine him lying next to you on your bed in the bed, murmuring into your ear.

You end up falling asleep talking to him.  

The next day, he texts you.  

Smooth like Honey: “if youre feelin phonely tonight call me”

Was that… a crappy phone pun?  You may have mentioned that you called him because you felt lonely and just wanted to talk to someone.

You call him again, and he’s just as nice.  This time, you hear someone boisterous in the background and discover he has a brother.  His brother insists on talking to you.  "HELLO! DO I KNOW YOU?  I DON’T??  ME?  I’M THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!!  DO YOU LIKE TACOS?“

You end up getting invited over for a taco dinner.  You politely decline because you know that meeting strangers at their house for tacos is a good way to get made into ground beef.  Sans seems heart-broken.  

You and Papyrus keep in touch through texting throughout the week.  The next time you call him, you’ve had a bad week, and you’re drunk and want him to bring over those brewskis.  You vaguely remember texting him your address, but he does show up.  He doesn’t have alcohol, and you remember blurting something like "You’re a fucking skeleton!” which he may have countered with “yeah, you’re right, hun.  i’m a skeleton that fucks.”  He’s got a lazy grin and a lollipop between his teeth, and you end up clutching his hoodie on your couch, all of your inhibitions obliterated as you ask him to just talk to you–right by your ear.

“honey, do you like my voice that much?”

And then you may have ripped that sucker out of his mouth and kissed him.  You can’t remember.  You know you wanted to do it, but everything gets fuzzy after that.  All you know if that you wake up throwing up into a trash can with Stretch rubbing your back and looking tired, and you grasp at the bits and pieces of the night before.  He’s really here; he’s a skeleton, but he’s a rather attractive monster with a grin that gives you butterflies and a voice that makes your toes curl, and you just… ruined everything.  

Surprisingly, he stays and takes care of you, watching Netflix on the couch and making sure you drink enough water.  He teases you for becoming a vomit dragon, and asks if kissing him was really that repulsive.  You turn bright red and stammer out apologies, but he shrugs all of them off.  "we’ve all been there.  do you want me to go home?“

"No, but–”

He slips an arm around your shoulders and drags you against his side.  "then i wanna stay  it’s as queasy as that.“  

So, he stays.  He ends up asleep on the couch halfway through NTT re-runs, and you nap against his chest.  The next thing you know, you’re dating and going over for Taco Thursdays with his brother.

These got kinda long, so I’m skipping the SF!bros, but just pretend Blackberry was a jerk at first and then tsundere, and then kinda thirsty and demands you be his because "IT’S OBVIOUS YOU’RE HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH ME! IT’S NO COINCIDENCE THAT YOU CALLED ME!  ALL OF THIS WAS PLANNED FROM THE VERY BEGINNING!  SO FINE! COME OVER TO MY HOUSE AND SHOW ME YOUR PASSION IN PERSON!!”

And SF!Paps straight-up talks you into phone sex with him, before coaxing you into meeting him to make your conversations a reality–only you didn’t expect a skeleton monster.

….I actually realllllyyy want to write that as a one-shot now.  

Badass

YAY REQUESTS! Could you write a spence x reader where the reader is a badass, and introduces spencer to her friends which makes him really nervous about their relationship since he’s such an adorable lil geek? THANK YOU ILY  -Anon

Pairing: Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1929

Warnings: none really

A/N: I kept most of the requests from the old blog and will be doing them here. I have been working on this one for a while and since school is over, now i have some time to myself to write. I hope you guys like this, and share it with your friends :)

Originally posted by jeichanhaka

Keep reading

Lionhearted - part 3 - nessian fic

Summary: Nesta and Cassian go on their first date and try to figure out how they work when they aren’t expected to bicker all the time. Nesta has a candid conversation with Feyre about their mother. Later, as Nesta and Cassian are beginning to find a rhythm as a couple, an emergency interrupts their progress.

Notes: This is… going to be 5 parts now. Just an FYI. I don’t know how this happened. Thanks this time to @acourtofstarsanddreams for helping me figure out jobs and apartments, and @illyriantremors for helping me make their first date more awkward :D

Part one, Part two : AO3 for comments : this chapter rated T : tw brief mention of Feyre’s abuse

*****

When Nesta made this date, she wasn’t thinking clearly.

She considered canceling, considered calling and just saying that it was a mistake, no hard feelings, that she wasn’t ready to go out with anyone.

Instead, when she called Cassian the next day, she reminded him that she lived outside the city and that he would likely need to leave early to make it to her place on time. She still had that nagging question in the back of her mind and had considered backing out then. But the smooth, confident tone in his voice had done something to her doubts, and by the time Nesta had shoved her phone back into her pocket, they had decided on a restaurant and a time and he knew her address.

Keep reading

Boss!Harry AU - Part 1

So here’s part one of the Boss!Harry thing I’ve been working on recently. I’ve got more parts written for this that I’m working on and I think it’s a pretty great story that I’ve got planned. I hope you like it as much as I’ve liked working on it! Enjoy x

The storm is in full force outside with the rain hammering down against the windows of the loft space you had found weeks ago for the party. It was one of the first assignments Harry had given you, inviting you in to his office on your very first day and telling you that you were going to organise the biggest party the company had ever thrown…or at least this century. After the initial fear and the realisation that nobody was going to help you, you’d gone out of your way to find this place to prove yourself to him; the ceilings are high and the open upstairs looks over the main floor below, with two bars at either end of the room, and plush sofas and cushions around the outside.

The weather man had told you all for days ahead that the storm was coming and your boss had unexpectedly insisted that you brought your clothes in to work today so you could jump in to his car instead of going home beforehand. He was unusually nice to you, in comparison to everybody else, but you put it down to being new, and that maybe after a few months he’d start to treat you with same contempt he does others.

He’s so judgemental and moody all the time at work. Any attempt at a joke from the office gets a sarcastic laugh followed by silence and he never notices when anybody does anything right for him. If they do something wrong, however, they’d be lucky to make it to the end of the week without having one of their big projects taken away and be given to somebody else as punishment for being unable to complete something as simple as a brief for a meeting.

You clean up your face in the bathroom mirrors where your eye make has smudged a little from the downpour between leaving the car and entering the building. He was still a little rude by taking the umbrella for himself but the lift was a shock all on its own; any more and you’d have been asking too much of the world. The bathroom is cold without as many people’s body heat radiating like it is in the main room and you make the trip quick so as to avoid freezing to death, making your way back in to the party, mingling with the other guests.

“Drink?” A smiley Harry hands you an empty glass as he catches up with you heading towards the bar. He’s got an open bottle of champagne in his hand and a ‘you know you want one’ look on his face. You give him a small thanks as he fills the glass before you’ve even say yes, sliding a hand down to the small of your back afterwards, and gently escorting your to the bar. With his fingers lingering on your bare skin, you silently congratulate yourself at wearing the backless number that had been hanging on your bedroom door for a while, unworn until now.

It isn’t a crush - not really. There’s just something about him which makes you long for his attention and want to impress him all the time. Remembering his favourite coffee from the artisan coffee shop next door to the office earns you a smile each morning, making sure you arrange for all his meetings to finish by six each night seems to help in making him less grumpy with you than he is with everyone else, and staying late to help him out when he has too much work on his desk…well, that’s more for your enjoyment than his.

Keep reading

Title: Just the Three of Us (Part 6.)

CHAPTER TITLE: We Are Nothing

Part 1. - Part 2.  - Part 3. - Part 4. - Part 5.

Character(s): Negan x Reader (pre-apocalypse)
Summary:
Negan tells the Reader the truth.
Word Count: 2,745
Warning: Language because, well, it’s Negan. 
Author’s Note: Short chapter! So, no smut in this one, but I’m building up this storyline! I hope you all stay tuned for what’s to come… ;)

Taglist: @oceaninwinter || @thirstygirl–twd || @isayweallgetdrunk || @illysamorgan || @loreleilara || @adayinmymeadow || @cheyanhicks || @theonethatgotaway213 || @jannavaire || @butler-boi || @female-x || @1d-niallerbieberforever || @voidobsession || @choolhooter || @smudged-lineart || @zaddygrimes || @negans-network || @simons-thirst-squad

Originally posted by kendaspntwd

“So, have you talked to Negan?” You asked, turning over onto your side. Simon was lying on his back, his arm wrapped around your shoulders with the other resting behind his head. It had been another night that he decided to take you out on a date, except it was shorter than usual due to his wandering hands.

“I have, yes.” Simon replied, looking over at you.

You nodded. It had been a month since you last saw and spoke to Negan. He didn’t even text in the group chat any longer. Simon had reassured you and said he was busy taking care of Lucille since she was now admitted to the hospital for further treatment.

Still, though, you wanted to know how he was doing. Negan seemed like the type of man who tended to have things bottled in and you didn’t want to be there when he decided to let all of his pent-up emotions out.

“Is he – Is he okay?”

Simon sighed, “You know you don’t have to worry about him.”

“I can’t help it, Simon.”

Keep reading

Leon Draisaitl #4

Anonymous said:hi! I was wondering if you could write a leon draisaitl one about being shorter than him and being teased about it and something cute really, please? thank you!

A/N: sooo honestly i just got this idea of working out with leon for an imagine and since you sent in this request i just decided to throw it in somehow. sorry if it’s like not good enough or whatever haha :)) also sorry for saying chin up and pull up and not just picking one lol

Word Count: 1,406

Originally posted by mcdraii

Never again, like ever, were you letting Leon drag you to Rogers Place this early - to work out. Last night when you two were talking about it, you thought it’d be cute, but now you were on your back and sweating through your t-shirt. Definitely not cute, that’s for sure.

Keep reading