write smut for it

Baby’s Big 50 Masterlist

Wow. Just wow. Thank you so much to each and every writer that participated. I am blown away by the interest in this writing challenge and by all the creative work that everyone contributed.

I hope you are able to set aside some time to go through and read these amazing pieces of work.


Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector


No Pairing:

Dean:

Sam:

Cas:

Wincest:

Lucifer:

Multiple Pairs/Ships:

  • All You Need is Love @impalasutra John x Mary, Dean x Lisa, Sam x OFC, then Choose your Winchester x Reader, smut through and through, with some humor and sweetness 

Watch for fics to be added from:

@sunriserose1023 @little-red-83 @wideawakeandwriting @kayteonline @helvonasche @hanginwithmanerds @quick-act-supernatural @maximumkillshot

Cheater Cheater

This is my piece for the “Do It Like Team Free Will” Challenge. @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean I hope you like it lovers!

Warnings: lots and lots of foul language (because I’m a potty-mouth…sorry not sorry) and smutty, sexy sex. Dean x Reader. 


“You’re really not gonna call first? What if he’s not home?”

“The point is that I want to surprise him, Dean!” I respond. Butterflies are turning my stomach into an aviary. I haven’t seen my boyfriend, Craig, in almost two months. I’ve been hunting with the Winchesters for years off and on, but this is the first time I’ve ever had a real relationship waiting for me in the wings. It’s been surprisingly difficult to be away. I’ve never really had the opportunity to miss someone, but I’ve been missing the hell out of Craig. Phone sex and Skype just don’t compare to the real deal.

As Dean turns the Impala down my boyfriend’s street, I let out a little squeal. I spot Craig’s blue pickup truck in the driveway next to a little red coupe that I’ve never seen before. I’m out the door before Dean even fully stops and he yells at me out the window, “Hey, don’t you wanna grab your bag?”

“Oh yeah!” I turn around and wait impatiently for him to get out and unlock the trunk for me. I’m practically bouncing back and forth between my feet, I’m so excited. Dean laughs at me and pulls me into a hug, giving me directions to the motel he and Sam will be at and telling me to call if I need them for anything.

I pick out Craig’s key from my fob and slide it into the lock, but when the door opens, it isn’t his deep voice I hear welcoming me home. It’s a female shriek. 

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Just a movie, babe (S.M. smut)

A/N: Okay i actually got myself aroused while writing oh my gawd! its a little long but its smutty as fuck. Its worth it. ENJOY!


Shawn’s P.O.V.

I unlock the door and open it, and before I can even get a foot in the door I hear Y/n’s voice yelling.

“Shawn! oh thank god” not a second later i see her running towards the door…towards me terror on her face. I drop my jacket and keys so she can run into my arms. “WHAT! Whats the matter babe!?” I ask, panic in my voice. She wraps her arms around my neck and hold her tighter than i’ve ever held anything in my life. 

“I just watched that movie with that psycho hockey player!” she cried out….her face is still hidden my neck but I let go of her waist. My facial expression instantly changes from anxious to blank. 

“Friday the 13th” I correct her. 

“yeaaah. oh my god i’m so glad you’re home Shawnie i was so scared here alone” she whimpers. “get off of me” I chuckle, backing away from her and picking up the items I dropped a second ago. 

“what? nooo you’re suppose to protect me!” she gasped. “From…Netflix? its just a movie babe” I shake my head and make my way the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “for a second there i thought you were a good boyfriend” she pouts while locking the door and walking into the kitchen after me. I look down at her and she rolls her eyes, taking the water bottle from my hands and drinking a sip. “For a second there i thought you were actually in danger. And would a bad boyfriend let you steal their water?” I smirk before taking the bottle back. I take a sip but almost spill some on myself when pokes me in the side.

“jerk! id like to see you sit through a scary movie without feeling the least bit paranoid” she challenged.

“Let’s watch one tonight then”

“Hell no! i’m already freake-”

“I’m here now so I wont let a hockey player or anyone else get my girl” I know she loves it when I call her that. I see her fighting back the smile it always causes. “okay fine but i swear to god if you try to scare me later on i’m going to strangle you” she squints her eyes to try and intimidate me but all it does is make it even harder for me to take her serious. She so short and doe eyed, its really hard for me to be scared of her. 

45 minutes later

“Shawn you’re supposed to be watching this” she giggled pushing my hand away from her thigh. “Id rather be doing this though” I smirk, moving my hand back to her leg and leaving a wet kiss on her collarbone. She sighs with a smile and crosses her arms. “i shouldn’t let you even sit on the same couch as me considering you told me to get off of you earlier” she teased

“haha y/n” I started “but remember what happened before that?”

“You were holding me?” she guessed, looking over at me.

"Yeah. I thought something was wrong and that-….I don’t know” I ran a hand through my hair, reliving that moment when my heart felt like it was going to explode from how fast it was beating.

What would you have done if there was a real killer in here?” she questioned. 

“I usually say violence isn’t the answer but I guess i’d have to kill him” I laugh. I see her eyes turn a bit darker and she took a deep breath. “….did that turn you on or something?” I joke. She doesn’t verbally answer but she guides my hand back to her thigh, and then further up to one of my favorite places on her body. I start rubbing her thought her pajama shorts and judging by how soft she feels right now, i’m one hundred percent positive she isn’t wearing panties. 

She bites her lip and whimpers while pressing my hand harder into her. With her other hand she pulls her shorts to the side and waits for me to do the rest. I rub for a few more seconds to make sure she’s absolutely dripping for me.

I finally have her where I want her and by now she’s almost at her peak. I take two of my fingers and wet them in my mouth before sliding them inside her. Her mouth is hanging open, a look of disbelief on her face. “sh- shawaann” she gasped. I shake my head “I know I know, that was really dirty” I chuckle, still pumping in and out of her.

 “mmm baby you..you’ve never done that…that was h-hot” she struggled through her moans. “fuck” I grunt before pulling away from her and undoing my belt and zipper quicker than I ever have before. Without me having to tell her, she swung a leg over me and pulled her shorts to the side once again. She pulls my hard-on out of my boxers and runs her thumb over the head of it. 

“aahh baby..fuck ride me” I groan

She sinks down on me, the material of her shorts are out of the way but still add some friction every time she comes back down. Her hands find my hair and I can feel my climax building with every stroke. My hands grip her ass and i help move her up and down. “nnh shawnie right there..” she whimpers. I guide her face to my neck and she begins nibbling at my jaw line. She picks up the pace for a second before pulling me out almost all the way. She’s teasing me

“ don’t you fucking stop y/n” I growl in her ear. She starts to grind again but this time, she starts to lose her rhythm. She’s close, so am I.

“i’m almost there baby oooh fuck…yes” she nods at me and i’m assuming she feels the same. Just when I feel her clench around me, I lose it. I throw my head back and squeeze her ass just enough to make her really feel it.

  I’m moaning out her name along with a list of profanities, she’s riding out her high and when I glance down I can see her biting on her finger. I could cum again just watching her. My breathing evens out and even though we’ve both finished, she’s still slowly grinding on me. She leans forward and kisses me with so much passion, it makes me smile. 

I just love her so much.

I grab her waist to stop her movements because my dick is way too sensitive right now. “another go?” she chirps. “give me like 20 minutes babe”

We laugh and she pulls herself off of me, shifting her attention to the tv to catch the last scene of that damn movie.

A Terrible Idea

I was supposed to work on CSBB today.  I did this instead.  Blame the show writers and Captain Swan when I miss this weekend’s CSBB check-in, but I had to get this out of my system.  Sorry if it’s a little slap-dash, LOL.

A quick and dirty missing scene from 6.18.  (Canon Compliant.  Plain Smut.  Rated M.)

Find it on AO3.

Tagging @the-lady-of-misthaven, @noorasaetlre, @villains-happy-ending, and @kmomof4 because you all are enablers.  And @bleebug because she asked for stuff like this.




Emma shuttles her mother out the door, promising to meet up with the troops at the sheriffs’ station shortly. Snow totes her ominously-large wedding planner – as great a harbinger of future suffering as any magical artifact Emma’s ever encountered – down the porch steps, and Emma waits until she’s halfway to the sidewalk before shutting the door and turning the bolt (for all the good that does).  

Breakfast long forgotten, she flies up the stairs to the bedroom to suit up for another day of dealing with the Black Fairy’s machinations.  Pulling clean underthings from her dresser drawer, she catches her reflection in the bedroom mirror.  She pauses at the sight of her mussed hair, biting her lip at both the memory of how it got that way and the realization that she definitely needs to see the inside of a shower before they get going – to the wash away the evidence, as it were.  Her eyes dart to the closed bathroom door.  The sound of running water coming from within reminds her that their shower is currently occupied and she has to wait until Killian vacates it or use the bathroom down the hall. And then Option C hits her.  

It’s a great idea.  

It’s a terrible idea.

Pancakes.

She’s all in.  

Gods, they’re going to be so late.  

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BambiBaby_666

Summary: You’re a cam girl who ‘somehow’ managed to convince your neighbour Simon and his friend Negan to make a surprise appearance on your cam show, after a night of long drinking of course. A week after the wonderful experience, you decide to watch the show on your own to let off some built-up steam. (Pre-Apocalypse)

Pairing: Negan x Reader x Simon

Word Count: 4,098 (Got carried away, sorry!)

Type: One shot, smut

Warnings: Pre-Apocalypse, unprotected sex, swearing, excessive drinking, explicit smut, voyeurism, masturbation.

Rating: NSFW

Fic Notes: Long passages of italics are flashbacks/memories, block quotes & italics together are what’s happening on screen.

Italics

Block Quotes & italics 

Author’s Notes: Heya, here is my submission for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Negan Writing Challenge Round 2! My Prompt was Negan x OC x Simon. I decided to write some awesome smutty three way – are my voyeurism and masturbation kinks showing? For some reason, I was super nervous about this because it was my first time writing with flashbacks ect… Please feel free to give me feedback!

 Masterlist

You lay in bed, laptop resting on a pile of pillows as you scroll through your Tumblr dashboard. The occasional porn gif or image sprouting its head, buried between pictures of cats and the odd aesthetic nature photograph. Your mind wondered to the two people you had been thinking about most the week, Simon and Negan. It had been 1 week since your sensual encounter with them. You hadn’t uttered a word to them since, although there were some sneaky winks and side eyes from Simon’s window that looked onto your balcony – there was never a follow up fuck.

Whether it had been the alcohol that made you instigate the three-way or your dire need to be well and truly fucked, you hadn’t built up the same amount of courage to re-do the wonderful experience. Both Simon and Negan were intimidating in every way possible, and although you always try to come across as confident and in control, those two seemed to steal those traits away from you without even trying.


“Y’know they say drinking alone is an early sign of being a fucking alcoholic.”

Perking up from the hard-wooden chair on your balcony and looking up over the rim of your glass you see Simon’s friend, Negan. He seems to have opened the window of Simon’s apartment that overlooks your small balcony.

“Well, shit. I don’t want that – Guess I need some drinking buddies to downplay this depressing situation?” You yell back, swallowing the rising burp that was in your throat.

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Not So ‘Quick and Bracing’

Description: Killian sees his fiance making breakfast, and soon they hunger for more, which eventually leads to the shower… (Canon/scene divergence from the pancake scene of 6.18). 

Rating: E (because, reasons…)

Word Count: ~2600 

Author’s Note: I know, know…Everyone and their mom is doing this, but @killythecowardlypirate ask me to “do the thing,” and so…here’s my version. It’s a “what if Snow didn’t interrupt” version. And yes, Chantal, syrup is included… I mean, what’s pancakes without syrup, amirte? lol This is unbetad, because I just needed to get it out, and it’s twice as long as I intended it to be. Smut, humor and feels: just what you come to expect from yours truly! Enjoy!!


Killian quietly wrapped his arms around his fiancé as she flipped another pancake onto an already towering stack. He nuzzled her ear, his trimmed facial hair tickling her exposed appendage. “Something smells delicious,”  he whispered.

Emma smiled from ear to ear, the heat from Killian’s body radiating from behind her. “It’s just from a box…”

He practically growled as he responded, “I wasn’t talking about the pancakes..”

Emma turned swiftly in his arms, taking no time to lock his lips with her own. He must have recently brush his teeth, because she could still taste spearmint along his tongue. Her hand travelled from his scruffy chin, to his slightly exposed chest (he was in the middle of dressing himself and didn’t finish before walking down to the kitchen). After exploring each other’s mouth for what seemed like an eternity, she broke the contact, looking into his cobalt blue eyes.

She must have been staring far too long, because Killian broke her concentration, asking, “What?”

“I’m just…happy. Still surprises me sometimes.”

He just smiled. “Aye, love. Me, too.” Killian then leaned down for another kiss, this one more gentle than the previous one. As he lifted his lips from hers, he ask, “So, should I look forward to this every morning? My loving wife, dressed in naught but her black silk robe, making me breakfast?”

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Dream Lover

Request: “Morning can I please request a reader and newt smut. Where they are best friends and somehow they have to cuddle to keep warm (spells aren’t working for some reason or another). And throughout the night newt must be having a really good dream cause he keeps grinding up against her. Possibly morning wood comes into play? Work your magic oh great one! Love your work!”

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Word Count: 1288

Warning: Smut

Originally posted by lovershub

Another day documenting creatures was over, meaning another night spent in a stingy wizard hostel ensued. You pulled your collar up to your chin, the chill settling into your bones as you trudged your belongings towards the only available room left. You turned back to Newt, shooting him a sceptical look as you reached the designated door. You opened it up to see a tiny room, with only one single bed. You let out an agitated sigh; another night fighting for the blanket. You had no problem with sleeping next to the wizard, but the problem was that in his sleep he was very restless, always pulling the blanket off you. And since the owners had said there was a frost troll staying in their basement which they wanted to accommodate well (since they were afraid it would eat them if they didn’t meet its requests), you knew the permanent freezing temperature would only get worse if you had no blanket.

Newt looked at you sympathetically, sitting beside you on the bed. He reached out to push your sleeve up, checking the nasty scratch you had gotten from the newly hatched Swedish Short-Snout Dragon you had rescued today.

“I told you Scandinavian beasts aren’t a lot of fun to deal with.” He reminded quietly. You shot him a look, pulling down your sleeve.

“Stop babying me. I can handle it.” You grumbled, pulling your shoes off and throwing them onto the little floor space that was available.

“I know, I’m just…” His eyes held yours for a couple seconds, his gaze flicking from them to your lips. “I get worried about you.” He completed with a shrug.

You smiled sweetly, pinching his cheeks as he let out a soft giggle. “Such a sweetheart, always looking after me.” You teased. You couldn’t help but marvel at the way his pale face grew so adorably pink in the cold, his freckles poking out on his nose and cheeks, and the top of his lip-. You shook your head a bit, trying to rid your mind of this type of thoughts, the type that people shouldn’t have about their best friends.

You huddled under the covers, and Newt soon followed, trying to be as far apart from you as possible. But on a bed as small as this, and with the blanket so thin, you wordlessly snuggled your back against him. He let out a surprised gasp, but as you looked back at him with an expectant glare he smiled, pushing closer to you.

“For warmth.” You uttered quickly.

“Yes, for warmth.” He repeated, his hand awkwardly resting on your hip.

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Boy Meets Girl

Summary: Your aura and everything about you captures the heart of the young artist, Park Jimin. He becomes infatuated with you and when you agree to become his model, he’s become nervous because in order for him to sketch or paint, Jimin must touch his subjects or else his image won’t be similar to the real deal.

Pairing: Jimin x reader Ft. Taehyung

Genre: Artist AU/Angst/Fluff/Smut (towards the ending)

Word Count: 5,455


He could feel the warmth of the summer winds they had given off. Each hour they were getting cooler as the night began to creep up. He liked the way the sky had looked, the sun halfway down with the pink and orange pigments surrounding it. He smoothed out his canvas as he began to focus on the sunset as he then used light quick strokes with his paintbrush as he painted the scenery in front of him.

He stopped midway through the painting and blankly stared at the details, his fingers stroked the picture in an up and down motion while the paint stained them. Looking up to the sunset that was once his muse, he threw the canvas and his papers towards the trashcan. He sighed in frustration, this was probably his thirtieth time today trying to find inspiration, something he couldn’t find that would spark the genius artist inside of him.

The thought of not being able to etch his creativity made him panic a bit. There was going to be a grand opening at this museum and he was one of the first artists to be featured. He quickly got up out of his seat, carrying his stuff in his arms, but as he turned around he bumped into you. The both of you fell onto the ground, papers flew in the air while his art tools were placed sporadically on the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted, trying to apologize to you by bowing at a ninety degree angle.

“It’s fine, I should be the one to say sorry,” you admitted, getting down on your knees as you began to pick up his things while he just stood there, mesmerized by your presence, your aura. He was struck by your complexion, your movements. You were the epitome of purity, grace and beauty. The way your skin would glow with no effort, the warm winds blowing through your shiny, silky hair. You were ethereal and he needed to paint you; you had sparked the genius artist inside of him.

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My Savior

Pairing: Bellamy Blake X Reader
Requested: Yes
Warnings: lightly sexually explicit
A/N: Exams are coming up so I haven’t been writing as much as I like to but please keep sending in requests!!
Word Count: 1464

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N! Look out!” You heard Bellamy yell, but it was too late, an arrow had lodged itself into your thigh. You tripped over a root face planting into the ground.

In the short seconds before a grounder would come up and kill you, you took this time to contemplate your decisions. Earlier that morning Finn had invited you to go out with a hunting party. Everyone knows your knife throwing skills are up to par with Bellamy’s, so it’s no surprise they wanted you with them. Usually you were cooped up in one of the tents helping sort food, since you weren’t good with a gun and didn’t know anything about medicine. You had thought the change of pace would be good, so you accepted his offer and off you went.

Now you wish you had stayed at camp. Everything was going perfectly normal. It only took about ten minutes for Finn pick up a boar’s tracks. Then the group had been following them for a good fifteen more minutes. It was you, who had realized something was off. The woods were almost silent, there were no birds in the trees, and these tracks were the only ones Finn had been able to find.

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered to Bellamy as he came to walk by your side.

“What makes you say that?” His voice was strong and serious. His leader facade was in place.

“These have been the only tracks I’ve seen for the past five minutes. Plus they’re leading us farther away from camp,” your eyes were scanning the trees, your knife drawn and in hand. Finn noticed you and Bellamy lagging behind the group, so he joined the conversation.

“Don’t be so ten-” Finn started to say but was cut off by a scream. The three of you whipped your head toward the noise, just in time to see one of the girls get impaled by a spear. You throw your knife with deadly accuracy hitting the grounder in the stomach. Unluckily he wasn’t the only one, six more dropped from the trees. They easily outnumbered your remaining four members.

“Run!” Bellamy screamed and everyone turned taking off back the way you came.

So that’s how you ended up here, on the ground with a knife in your leg. Suddenly there’s arms picking you up and helping you run. You turn your head and see the person is Bellamy. Up ahead you see a knife, like the one lodged in your leg, fly into a boy’s back. Together you and Bellamy run for awhile– but it’s no use the grounders will catch up soon and you’re still a long way from camp. An idea pops into your head.

“This way!” You tell him veering off to the right. Your eyes trail to where the others are running up ahead, “Everyone scatter! Find shelter!” You scream at them. They all give you a quick glance before running in different directions.

“Where are we going?” Bellamy questions you.

“Finn and I found an abandoned car out here,” you say only having to run a few more steps before dropping to the ground and prying open the hatch. Bellamy drops in first and grabs your waist helping you down gently before slamming the door shut. You put your fingers to your lips in a ‘sh’ motion. It doesn’t take long for you to hear boots clattering on the ceiling, and a voice yelling words you didn’t understand in a language you didn’t know. Placing your back against the wall behind you, you slide down so your legs are splayed in front of you.

“We have to get that knife out,” you hear from above you. Your eye glance up and roam over Bellamy’s tall frame. His hair was disheveled, skin glistening with sweat, and the jacket he had been wearing was now on the ground next to him.

“Yeah,” a sigh escapes your lips, “I know it’s just gonna hurt like a bitch.” A breathy chuckle leaves his lips at your elegant description. Then without any hesitation Bellamy is lifting his shirt over his muscular frame. Too stunned at the sight of his toned stomach you can’t say anything, your mouth is probably hanging open as you stare at his shirtless form.

“Close your mouth, you don’t wanna catch flies,” the smirk is evident in his tone and as your eyes trail up to his face you see it planted on his lips. “But sweetheart I didn’t take my shirt off so you could ogle at me,” he says as he sits on his knees in front of you.

“Well if I knew all it took to get you shirtless was a knife in the thigh I would’ve helped Murphy with target practice a lot more,” the comment stills his methodical movements of tearing his shirt into one longstrip. Then he’s back to work and shaking his head at you.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your pants,” his voice is low as he looks you in the eyes.

“I- uh, what?” Your voice betrays the cool and collected vibe you were trying to portray.

“Your wound, it can’t have fabric fibers in it, you’ll get an infection.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” you go to unbutton your jeans and as you try to pull them down you wince in pain. It’s then you realize you’re going to need help to get out of them. “Um, Bellamy, I can’t get them off myself,” your voice is tiny, timid, something that doesn’t happen often.

“I, uh, sure, of course I’ll help you,” he swallows and clears his throat before continuing, “I’m going to have to pull the knife out first, okay?” You take a deep breath in and nod. He quickly pulls the weapon out in one fluid motion you only let a grunt of pain pass your lips. He quickly gets to work shimmying your pants down your thighs, carefully over the wound, then tugs them completely off of you. Leaving you in only your pair of black underwear. His hands then start to wrap your laceration in his shirt and finishes by tying a tight knit on top of it.

“Thanks,” you breathe out as he finishes. “You’re my savior, you know that, right?” You tell him quietly. He looks up from his position in front of you on his knees. You draw your legs to your chest giving him enough room to sit down in front of you. He’s so close you can feel his legs pressed against yours through the fabric of his pants.

“Don’t say that-” you cut him off in the middle of his sentence.

“If you hadn’t come back for me– I don’t even want to think about what would have happened. You saved my life,” with each word you had leaned your head closer to his. Now your lips were only a few inches apart. His eyes glance down at your lips and back up to your eyes. Tilting his head he closes the gap between you two melding your lips together. One of his hands finds its way to your hair and tangles itself at the back of your neck. While the other finds your waist and tugs you so you’re straddling his lap. Your hands are on his broad shoulders. They move down feeling his toned chest, and when they come to his hips they slip under his shirt to feel his smooth skin against your palms.

A moan leaves your lips as he disconnects from your heated kiss to lick a stripe down your throat. Then he peppers kisses back up along your now wet skin. He nibbles on the spot right below your ear.

“Does this mean you’re mine now?” He whispers in your ear. His hands have both moved to your waist where he brings you back to look into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Bellamy Blake, I have always been yours, you’ve just been too blind to see it,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, I’m glad you’ve opened my eyes then,” a smile graces his swollen lips.

He moves you off of his lap and lays you down next to him. Grabbing his discarded jacket he folds it into a pile and places it under his head as a pillow. He then positions your head so it’s against his chest and his arms are circled around your waist. That’s how you two sleep that night, entwined in each other. Actually that’s how you sleep every night from now on, because after that you moved into his tent, officially becoming the queen to his king. Which, if you’re being honest, is what you’ve wanted since the first day on the ground.

You Serve Me

Request: “Reader teases Graves the whole day at MACUSA after the fight they had, (just everywhere, in his office, elevators, even at meetings omg), and when they come home after work the whole thing ends up with angry, sort of punishing sex for the poor reader. {I love your writing, honey, you’re an inspiration because I write myself sometimes}” + “could I request a percival smut that he and the reader work together and they have a love/hate relationship? love your fics btw ♡”

Pairing: Percival Graves x Reader

Word Count: 2031

Warnings: Smut

Originally posted by givemeloveeff

“This isn’t right.” You said to yourself mostly, but Percival still came over, looming his head over to look at the paperwork. His cologne wafted into your senses, mixed with the smell of peppermint toothpaste and coffee. It was just hitting 9am, and you were already eager to head home, not wanting to deal with the pile of irrelevant data that had stacked up on your desk.

“Then fix it.” He shrugged, sipping on the double espresso coffee you had brought for him before work started. “That’s what you’re for, right?”

You had to hold yourself back with great difficulty from slapping his smirking mug. This had been going on since the start of the week, and you were completely fed up. It was enough to belittle you by using his superiority to make you take his coffee orders, but now he was crossing a line by getting you to do his work.

“How long do you plan to torment me?” Your voice raised, face locked in a permanent scowl as you watched the smile fall from his face.

“Are you forgetting your role, (Y/n)?” He grumbled, trying to look indifferent as his cold laced words escaped him. “I am the director of magical security, you serve me.”

You threw your hands in the air, flabbergasted. “Yes but I’m not your personal assistant Percy-“

“That’s Mr. Graves, while you’re here.”

He threw a knowing smirk. He was playing a dangerous game here, but he didn’t seem to realise. You could’ve let every Auror know just how Mr. Graves likes getting his cock sucked, or how he worships your body on the weekends. But instead you found yourself putting on a pleasant smile, obeying him for the sake of plotting your revenge in a much more torturous way.

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Dean Winchester’s Lyrics Master List

Summary: Dean Winchester isn’t exactly competent when it comes to relationships. He’s had nearly a life time to tell Y/N how he feels. Instead, he’s found himself in bed with her more times than he can count and left her with almost nothing after. Dean tries to reach her in his own way, but it’s not enough.When Dean finally figures out how he feels and what to say, Y/N quits the life and he lets her go. A spell of epic and violent proportions brings them back together. This is Y/N’s side of the story.

Warnings: This has adult language and explicit sexual context. Also, canonical violence is to follow.

A/N: This was written for @creatively-charlie‘s awesome challenge! There is a prompt, but I’m going to wait until the end to reveal it. This story is complete and has 5 parts. I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

The Stand-In Part 6

A/N: Oh boy I have two finals and a test this week, and the rest of my finals shortly thereafter. I probably won’t be posting much.

Word count: 2327

Pairing: Firefighter!DeanXReader

Warnings: I don’t think there are any in this one actually. It’s a miracle.

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

~

“Mom, no I’m not ignoring you–No. No, I just…” she trails off and throws her hands up in the air as she sighed into her phone. “Mom. Mom, just listen to me.”

She groans when her mother keeps on complaining, talking about how something serious could’ve happened when she tried to call last night.

And no one would’ve ever known.

At least, that’s what her mom keeps saying.

“Mom, I was on a date,” she finally says, and her mother goes silent on the other end of the phone. “Yes, a date.”

She covers her face as her mother starts questioning her rapid fire about her supposed date.

“Mom! I’m a grown woman, I can take care of myself,” she finally groans, resting her head on the cool countertop of the bar as she lets her mother ramble. “Mom, just give me thirty seconds to talk and then you can nag me, please.”

After a few more quick comments, her mother goes quiet, and she seizes her opportunity.

“Okay, so I was on a blind date but the guy stood me up so Dean stepped in and we hit it off and then we went on a date,” she explains in the shortest terms she can manage. “I was at the bar when you called, I didn’t hear my phone ring.”

Instantly she regrets her words, and she looks up to Dean tiredly.

He just gives her a little smirk as he listened to one side of the conversation, getting the gist of it all from her responses.

“Mom, no he didn’t take me to a bar for a date,” she moans, banging her head on the counter. “No! Mom, no! We went to the park and then got some food and afterward we went to the bar. I’m the one who suggested the bar, Mom.”

She closes her eyes and holds back a whimper as her mother erupted into her speech about being safe at the bar, and how she should only drink her own drink, and how she shouldn’t trust strangers.

She looks up when she feels warm hands on her neck, rubbing out the tension from a single conversation.

Dean smiles and presses a quick kiss to her shoulder as he continued rubbing for her.

“Mom, how about I talk to him and see if he’d like to come with me for a visit?” she finally offers. “I can’t guarantee anything, but if you meet him it’ll stop you from worrying my ear off.”

Her mother goes on for a few more moments before finally agreeing on meeting Dean, if he’d visit.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him and let you know,” she says, trying to wrap up the conversation before anything else came up. “Okay, I’ll call you back after I talk to him. I love you, Mom.”

She bites her lip as she goes on, leaning back into Dean for support.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll let him know. Okay,” he exhales. “Okay, I love you. Now, bye.”

Finally, her mother bids her goodbye and hangs up, and as soon as the phone line is dead, she releases a long drawn moan of frustration.

“Sounds like you had a good talk,” Dean says, and she looks up at him with a halfhearted glare.

“She means well, but she just… She doesn’t realize I’m a grown adult who can take care of myself,” she explains tiredly. “She can go on for days if you let her.”

Dean smiles solemnly, and she turns in her chair to face him.

“So…” she breathes, trying to figure out how to break the news. “She wants to meet you.”

“She does know that we’ve only been seeing each other for a week, right?” he asks, and she laughs.

“I could’ve sent you one text message and she’d want to know your life story. A week is an eternity for my mother,” she explains. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just… I had to get her to shut up before she gave me the safe sex lecture. Again.”

“I’d love to meet your family,” he says honestly. “If you’re gonna marry me, it seems the smartest move.”

She has to roll her eyes as he gives her a little smirk with his comment, making her stomach quiver with something she’s never felt before.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “My mom is pretty overbearing sometimes. She’s gonna want to know everything.”

“Everything?” he prompts, raising an eyebrow.

“How old are you, what’s your job, how many girls have you slept with, what do you want with my daughter, are you going to keep her safe… You get the point,” she lists. “She does this with every guy I’ve been with.”

“And how many is that?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye. “If I’m gonna have to spill all my secrets, I think it’s only fair that I know some of yours.”

“I’ve taken two home to mom. Dated three,” she answers. “Number three didn’t even make it a full week before I called it off. He was not what I was looking for in a guy.”

“And why is that?” Dean asks, cocking his head to the side some.

“He just… He never made any decisions. He wasn’t decisive on anything,” she shrugs. “He asked me where to go for our date, and what to eat, and everything else. It felt completely one-sided. Everything was about me, and I guess some girls like that but I felt like he just really didn’t know what to do and was letting me do what I wanted because of that.”

“Note taken,” Dean murmurs. “Don’t let you wear the pants in this relationship.”

She laughs for a moment, then bites her lip, looking to him.

“Seriously, though,” she pauses, and he catches her gaze. “I’m gonna be totally cliche here. What… What are we?”

“We,” he grins, “are a couple of people who go on dates and meet each other’s families. I think that’s called a boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Even if it’s only been a week?” she asks hopefully.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling things in places I’ve never felt before,” he says honestly. “And I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but god damn it if I’m gonna let it go.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling some things too,” she mumbles, her cheeks tinting pink. “You’re the first guy I’ve let stay over at my house two days in a row.”

“The bar is set low, then?” he teases, and she makes a face.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, pursing her lips. “Just… Never wanted a guy to stay over before you.”

“It’s because of how I wake you up, Sweetheart,” he winks. “Admit it.”

Her cheeks flush dark pink as she remembers yesterday morning.

“That was pretty nice, but I’m not going to feed your ego any more,” she finally admits, watching his smirk grow.

He leans in and seals his lips to hers, making her pause and realize that this is the first time he’s kissed her on the lips.

He pulls away after just a second, his eyes holding a questioning expression.

“You couldn’t have been more romantic than that?” she asks, and he lets out a loud laugh.

“I thought you didn’t like cheesy and romantic?” he returns, taking a tiny piece of her hair to pull on it gently. “Make up your mind.”

“I don’t know what I like and don’t like when it comes from you,” she pouts, and he laughs again. “You’re just making everything… Hard.”

“Woah there,” he says, and she makes a face at him. “That’s kinky.”

“Shut up!” she pushes at his chest, making him take a step back. “You know what I meant. You make things difficult.”

“Really? Because I thought I’ve been exceptionally easy to deal with,” he says smugly, and she exhales heavily, trying to keep the smile off of her face.

“The way you can just brush everything off both pisses me off and makes me envious at the same time,” she tells him. “You’re like… Nothing can bother you.”

“Trust me Sweetheart, you just haven’t found it yet,” he grins, biting his bottom lip. “So are you gonna call your mom back and tell her I’ll come meet her?”

“I need at least an hour reprieve before I talk to her again,” she says, and he smirks.

“If you just do it now and get it over with, you don’t have to do it later,” he states, and she just shrugs. “Call your mom back. Just get it done with.”

“I don’t want to, she’s just going to ask a bunch of questions,” she sighs. “And she’ll want to know how I asked you so quickly, and then she’ll put it together and realize that you’re here with me now, and then she’ll really lose her shit.”

“Just call her, and I’ll make some breakfast, and after that we can find something to do,” he says, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m off Wednesday and this weekend, whichever is easier for her.”

“I thought you worked during the week?” she asks questioningly.

“I covered Adam’s shift the other day, so I got his day off because he got mine,” Dean explains. “So I’m free on a weekday for the first time in a century.”

“Awesome, I’ll see if I can get Jamie to cover my shift then, and I’ll tell Mom to make dinner on Wednesday,” she nods to herself.

She looks at her phone and groans for a second before she picks it up, redialing her mother’s number.

“Hey, Mom, how does Wednesday sound?” she starts the conversation quick, because she knows that otherwise it’ll drag on for another twenty minutes. “No, he works this weekend and-”

“I don’t work this…” he trails off when she shoots him a fierce glare.

“Yeah, Wednesday is the best day. If it’s too soon, maybe when could get together another time or something,” she offers, crossing her fingers though she knows that nothing will help. “Okay then. Wednesday at seven. We’ll be there.”

She offers Dean a hopeful smile as the conversation seems to have gone rather quickly.

“Okay. Love you and see you soon. Bye,” she says, and she hangs up.

Her eyes lift to Dean’s, and she shakes her head slowly.

“That’s the shortest conversation I’ve ever had with my mom, ever,” she says emphatically.

“Why did you tell her that I work on the weekend?” he asks, and she grins sheepishly.

“If it’s on a weekday, we can escape after a few hours. On the weekends, she’ll want to do lunch, then talk and talk and talk until dinner, and then talk some more,” she explains, and he laughs.

“You’re devious when you make plans,” he states.

“No, I’m smart,” she retorts. “I thought you were making me breakfast?”

“I didn’t know what you wanted, Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You’re in a mood this morning.”

“Sorry, I just… I’m not looking forward to work tomorrow, and I haven’t done anything that I usually do on the weekends, so I’m kinda stressing,” she admits. “It’s been really nice having you over, but I feel like I haven’t gotten anything done.”

“You can do whatever while I’m here, you know,” he says, leaning on the counter. “I’m not picky, and I won’t get weirded out or anything by you doing laundry or something.”

“I’d feel like a bad host,” she protests. “I need to sweep and mop and do laundry and the dishes, and I really should clean up my room some. It’s messy.”

“You sound like a teenager who put off all her chores until an hour before her parents come home,” he admits. “And your room isn’t that messy. You could make it another week.”

“Dean, don’t encourage my bad habits,” she scolds, huffing.

“Look, Sweetheart, if you want I could head home so you can get some stuff done,” he says, and she frowns.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m kicking you out,” she states.

“It’s okay, I have stuff to get done too,” he says with a grin. “Besides, we need some time apart. We’ve been together all weekend.”

“Am I being overbearing?” she asks suddenly, gnawing on her bottom lip. “This is all going too fast, isn’t it?”

“Hey there, calm down,” he rests his hands on her shoulders. “We’re both adults here, and we both have responsibilities of our own. It’s okay to get sometime apart. You’re not overbearing, but we do need some time apart. We don’t want to get too dependent on each other, you know?”

“You’re right. It’s only been a week,” she says to convince herself. “Okay. Yeah.”

“You okay?” he asks with a smile. “You’re making a big deal of this, and it’s just me going home.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she nods. “I’m just wondering if this is the right thing to do, because I’ve never felt anything like this before and I don’t want to make a mistake and-”

He kisses her, quick and hard.

When he pulls away, she’s shocked into silence.

“Calm down. It’s okay,” he says, and she nods. “I’ll see you Wednesday. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

“Okay,” she whispers as he gives her a lingering hug.

“I’ll call you tonight?” he suggests, and she nods quickly. “Good.”

He smiles and gives her a peck on the cheek before gathering his things and leaving out her front door.

She watches as he departs, trying to fight the growing unease in her belly.

Something feels wrong, like she forgot to do or say something, or maybe she shouldn’t have let him leave.

After a few moments, she decides to let it go, trusting that she made the right decision, and makes her way back to the kitchen.

And then it hits her.

That fucker left without making her breakfast.

~

Tags for those who have requested:

@purely-myself-03 @morganpierce @perpetualabsurdity @stormblastfanfiction @vampire7595 @ronnie248-blog @superisatomboyuniverse @vaisabu

If you’d like to be tagged in this series, shoot me a message or a comment and I’ll add you to my list!

anonymous asked:

Can you maybe write something about what Alex was actually doing during that knife throwing practice (aka with maggie because we all know that's what was actually happening)?

Maggie tends to have odd hours.

Part of her odd hours?

Thursday mornings off.

J’onn knows, when Alex mutters something about Thursday morning knife training.

Winn knows, when Alex walks away with that gleam in her eye.

Kara doesn’t know, and if she did, she’d wish she didn’t.

Because Alex is grabbing her helmet and ignoring Vasquez’s knowing smirk and she’s speeding her Ducati to Maggie’s apartment, and she’s letting herself in and she’s grinning because her girlfriend is still in one of Alex’s tank tops and boxers, and, gloriously, nothing else.

“Danvers!” she greets, her dimples shining along with her eyes.

“Know what happens when crime is slow in National City?” Alex asks by way of greeting as she strolls across the studio to take Maggie into her arms.

“Mmmm, you get bored and decided your girlfriend could be adequate entertainment?“

She arches up on her tip toes and kisses Alex softly, but with promise, with a question, and Alex answers with parted lips and an exploring tongue. Maggie swoons and Alex holds her and nearly swoons herself.

“Something like that.”

“That’s a tall order, Danvers. Keeping you entertained.”

“Well I didn’t say the burden would be all on you. I could uh… keep you entertained too, you know.”

“Oh, could you?”

“Mmhmm.”

They’re talking between kisses, between breaths, between eager hands running over each other’s bodies like they hadn’t only parted a few hours before, and Maggie giggles when Alex’s fingers skim over that pesky part of her side that is always, eternally, ticklish.

“I want you,” Maggie breathes into Alex’s lips, her own turned up into a smile, and Alex moans into her mouth.

“Do you now?”

“Danvers.”

“Sawyer.”

“If I said I want you, it means I want you.”

Alex grins at Maggie’s need, at Maggie’s openness, at her grinning vulnerability, at her trust.

“You have me, Maggie. You have me.”

So she lifts her up, right under the thighs, and Maggie wraps her legs around Alex’s waist eagerly, their bodies pressing together as Alex kisses her, as Maggie whimpers and pants in anticipation, as Alex lays them both down on Maggie’s bed.

“You sure, babe? You don’t have to, just because I came home – ”

“Alex Danvers, I want you to cum all over my thigh, and then I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name. Think you can do that for me? I mean, if you want – ”

Alex pffts. “If I want,” she growls, grinning as she leans down to kiss Maggie slow, soft, sensual.

“Is it okay if I take my time? Before I cum all over your thigh and fuck you senseless?”

“Alex,” Maggie just breathes, her hips arching up of their own accord, and Alex grins deeper.

She kisses her mouth and she kisses her cheek. She kisses her eyelids and she kisses her temples. Her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose, and her jawline and her earlobes – which has Maggie whimpering and panting and writhing – and her throat and her collarbone. She takes her time undressing Maggie, takes her time undressing herself.

“You don’t have to go back into work, babe?”

Alex chuckles. “Thursday morning knife training.”

“Oh, is that what I am?”

“Oh, Maggie. You are so much better than that.”

“Coming from you, that’s high praise, Danvers.”

“Want high praise? Spread your legs for me, Sawyer.”

“Alex,” Maggie gasps.

“Only if you want. I’m sorry, was that okay – ”

“Yes, Alex, god, yes,” Maggie says, complying with her request, and Alex moans as she trails kisses down Maggie’s chest, paying special attention to her nipples, to that sensitive spot right under her navel.

She pauses when her lips are just above Maggie’s curls.

“I know going down on you wasn’t on your agenda, but um… do you want me to? Because if you do, I’d like that. A lot.”

“As part of your training?” Maggie husks, her voice thick with humor, thick with raw desire, raw need.

“Well, it’s a certain kind of training, isn’t it?”

“You want to? You sure?”

“Oh god, yes.”

“Then please, Alex. Please?”

Alex obliges, and moans into Maggie’s clit when she lowers her tongue to taste her, when she parts her curls with her fingers and traces her tongue through her wetness, paying close, close attention to Maggie’s rhythms, her sounds, the ways her fingers tighten in Alex’s hair, the ways her hips arch up, the way she whimpers “god, Alex, just like that, fuck, yes, please please please,” and Alex grinds her own hips into the sheets because god does Maggie taste incredible and fuck, fuck, fuck she never imagined going down on someone could be this hot.

But then Maggie is tapping her open palm, their safe gesture for stopping, and Alex stops immediately, her eyes wide with concern, but Maggie’s shaking her head and grinning.

“I love cumming in your mouth, Danvers, but that’s not what I want right now. Flip over for me? If you want?”

And god, does she.

So she rolls over, wiping her mouth on her bare shoulder as she does, and spreads her legs obediently, excitedly, and Maggie eagerly kisses Alex’s mouth, moaning at the taste of herself on her girlfriend’s lips, moaning at how wet Alex is when she asks if she can slip her thigh between Alex’s legs and Alex is yes, yes, yes, Maggie, please, fuck, please.

“You wanna be a good girl for me and cum all over my thigh, Agent Danvers?” Maggie asks, and the words alone could make Alex cum as she slams her hips up, up, down, down, desperate for friction, desperate for pressure, and Maggie gives it to her hard, and Maggie provides it for her perfect, one of her hands bracing herself up on the mattress, the other resting as a pillow underneath Alex’s head, and it’s that, even more than the dirty talk – that protectiveness, that care, that thoughtfulness – that send Alex over the edge, that send her nails running down Maggie’s back, that send her screaming Maggie’s name as she sees stars, stars, supernovae, stars.

Maggie smiles and starts to cuddle Alex close, but Alex shakes her head, and Alex asks with her eyes if she can push Maggie onto her back, and Maggie nods wordlessly.

“You said something earlier about wanting to make me cum all over you, and then you wanted me to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name. Can I do that for you, Maggie? Do you still want that? Because we don’t have to – ”

“Why are you still talking, Danvers?”

So Alex grins and Alex leans down for a crushing, gentle, passionate, tender kiss, slipping her hand between Maggie’s legs, asking her once, twice, three more times if this is what she wants before slipping one, two, three fingers deep, deep inside her. Maggie moans and writhes and grabs at Alex’s hips and tries to keep from screaming Alex’s name.

Tries, and fails.

“Deeper Alex, please,” she whines, and Alex moans, and Alex obliges, making sure her palm stays right on Maggie’s clit, giving her all the pressure she needs as she arches her fingers inside Maggie’s body, working her up as much as she can handle, as much as either of them can handle, because god she loves feeling her fingers stretch Maggie out, loves feeling Maggie come completely undone beneath her, loves watching Maggie whimper and whine and gasp and scream and writhe, because it’s all from pleasure, all from ecstasy, all from Alex, Alex, Alex.

Maggie cums hard and she cums loud, just as Alex’s phone starts buzzing, just as Alex is being called back into work.

“Decent timing then, huh Danvers?” Maggie rasps, and Alex kisses her face, kisses her lips, kisses her forehead, kisses her hair.

“Never decent timing to leave you, babe,” Alex romances, and Maggie would swoon if she were standing up, if she had any coordination at all.

“What are you doing?” Maggie asks, bewildered as Alex pulls her into a close snuggle.

“It’s not an emergency. They can wait for a few extra minutes – I’m not gonna leave you all naked and sweaty with no cuddles to be had.”

“Aw, Danvers, are you getting soft on me?”

“Pfft, no.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I won’t tell your secret. I promise.”

In Your Blood

Summary: Something is plaguing you and it’s as unexplainable as the absence of a certain archangel and his behavior when he returns.  Part 3 of The Best Laid Plans Series (Part 1, Part 2)

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader, Reader x Sam (unrequited)

Tags: smut, unprotected sex,

Word Count: 5443

Author’s Note: This was written for April’s @gabriel-monthly-challenge dialogue prompt:

“You know, some people think that prayer is just as essential to life as water, air, and sex.”

Special thanks to: @sumara62 for her amazing beta skills.  Complete credit for the title goes to her.  

Tags list at the end

***

Still awake at an ungodly hour?  Check.

No closer to solving this case than you’d been three days ago?  Check.

Fever hitting full force?  Check, check, and check.  

Which was why you were spending most of your nights outside of the motel rather than in it.  The cold night air was calming, considering the heat pulsing through your system.  It came in waves, rolling over you seemingly without rhyme or reason.  The more this happened, the more you were convinced it wasn’t a coincidence that all of this started when you picked up the trail of a witches’ coven.

Then again, it could simply be natural wear and tear; come to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten a decent night’s sleep or finished a meal.  

You waited until the sun came up before rising from your night’s vigil.  Your muscles ached in protest, stiff from sitting against hard pavement and unforgiving brick.  It was a welcome sensation; distracting and grounding you as you started your morning routine of fetching coffee and breakfast so everyone could hit the ground running.  

As with the last few days, you were completely unaware of the presence that shadowed your every move.

Keep reading

Question about Cathar

I love this bit from the Disavowed chapter. Faced with possibly getting mowed down by Skytroopers, the player asks if he has any last words. If you’ve romanced him, it goes like this:

Jorgan: Can that garbage.
Jorgan: And… I love you.

It took so long for me to warm to him but I’m glad I finally did. He’s such an asshole but he’s Lib’s asshole.

So SWTOR hivemind that knows more about this than I do… anyone how much fur Cathar have? Namely Jorgan but in general would be nice too. Like, are they fuzzy to the touch? Can’t write a scene without figuring it out. It might get to smut, I don’t know. Help?