before-we-get-started

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Friday means a new episode of The Happy Meemaw Reads podcast. This week I chat with author Donna Costello, @bullet-prooflove, about her writing process, her prolific fan fiction for more than 50 characters, the sexy doctors from The Pitt, and how she turned her talent into a business, Luna Creative Academy. Thanks for listening!

@jtargaryen18 @nowandajenn @spectre-posts @what-is-your-plan-today @worksby-d @georgiapeach30513 @darkdazekid @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @syms-things-5

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[before-we-get-started]

💪🏻

Get these ai writing assistants out of my face!!!! I don't care if my writing is bad at least it is mine!!!!

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Scarlett Johansson having to pick out between Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth

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@worksby-d I love this so much, and that friend owes me a case of wine for breaking up this amazing moment 😂

Trouble

Pairing: Steve Rogers x grad student!Reader

Summary: The one day you choose to be a morning person gets you caught in a compromising position by your best friend. Read more of these two here and here 🫶

Warnings: Age gap, oral (m receiving), getting caught, 18+

Word count: ~600

You’re not a morning person. You’d die on that hill. 

But when Steve’s around… 

When he’s shirtless in your kitchen… Making himself at home, quietly humming while brewing a cup of coffee to wake you up with…

Maybe he’s starting to make you one. 

This morning, instead of pretending like his absence when he leaves your bed doesn’t wake you, you follow after him a few minutes later. 

He thinks you’re just sleepy and feeling clingy when you step behind him, silently wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek against his shoulder blade. 

He starts to realize how wrong he is when you slip around and slowly sink onto your knees in front of him. 

Now, he has one hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other gently holds the back of your head as you softly gag on his cock. 

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groans low and deep, voice still laced with sleep. 

You smile around him. That sound is enough to make you forget that you didn’t think through how uncomfortable kneeling on the linoleum floor like this would be.

“What happened to Miss ‘I don’t get out of bed before 10 a.m.’?”

That makes you laugh and you have to pull away for a second, letting your hand take over.

“You’ve changed me, Stevie,” you answer innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He barely holds himself together when you take him back in your mouth, keeping your eyes on his. 

His head falls back and he lets out a sigh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You moan in response, taking him deeper, determined to get him to let go for you. 

But neither of you get the satisfaction before hearing a gasp come from across the room. 

“No fucking way–”

Steve damn near jumps, letting go of you and instinctively stepping back. 

Your best friend is standing in the doorway, donning her bag of snacks in one hand and a blanket draped over her other arm – ready for your usual day together catching up on shitty reality tv from the past week. 

“Shit, it’s Saturday,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“My god!” She laughs a little, but only because there’s no other way to react. “You have the instincts of a turtle, by the way.”

She gestures to you still sitting on the floor. Steve at least had the sense to tuck himself back into his sweats and put a distance between the two of you. If he didn’t have a fear of being rude, he would have walked away minutes ago. 

“Also, hi,” she says, awkwardly waving to him. 

He stutters out a few sounds that don’t actually make up words before just settling on waving back, but not without rolling his eyes at himself.

She looks back at you, finally pulling yourself up. 

“I forgot…” 

You start to explain, but she holds her hand up, telling you to stop. 

 “Clearly, or I wouldn’t have just walked in on you going down on the old guy from our art class.” 

She turns to walk toward your living room. Scarred, but not enough to leave. You know she’ll be begging for all the details later. 

“No offense,” she murmurs as she passes Steve. 

“Hey,” he shakes his head, holding his hands up to tell her none taken.

Once she’s out of the room, you step back closer to Steve.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him quietly. “I– I’ll make sure the door’s locked next time–”

He scoffs, but can’t suppress the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Next time?”

You offer the same innocent look that made him fall apart before.

“You, my dear…” He whispers close to your ear, making you giggle. You both hear your friend groan in the distance, but don’t pay her any mind this time. “...Are trouble.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[before-we-get-started]

Yay! Welcome back @spectre-posts and @what-is-your-plan-today! Love this series and can’t wait to see what Lloyd blows up next!

Put Your Pants On First

Lloyd images used in board above from Pinterest by @randomagnes0210. Credit goes to @randomagnes0210.

Disclaimer: This and all works on this blog are a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. This work and all works on this blog are not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content, adult content and themes, language, etc. By reading this work or any works posted, shared or reblogged on this blog, you agree that you are at least 18 years of age.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. 

The author(s) of this work claims not to own any characters outside of the OC(s; original character(s)) here within. 

In addition, works posted on this blog are NOT to be reposted on any other website. This includes WattPad, AO3, fanfiction.net or any other entity of the like. I/We, the author and creator, DO NOT consent to have ANY work hosted on any third party app or site or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but from its original Tumblr source, it’s been reposted WITHOUT permission. REBLOG posts in exception.

By reading beyond this point, you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer, and ALL warnings posted here.

Warnings: Adult situations/themes, smut, sociopathic behavior, violence, NSFW, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! (Warnings apply to all chapters.)

A @spectre-posts & @what-is-your-plan-todayCollaboration

What is Dead Masterlist

W/C: 4k

Chapter 6 – Libya is a Shithole

********************

You stood under the spray of the water, the shower refreshing after a sleepless and uncomfortable night on the yacht.

You'd stayed there with Claire all night. But with the sway of the current, you were anything but lulled to sleep. Your mind played multiple things over and over. Different scenes from your life in the past and possible scenarios of your future. Everything behind you hurt, while everything in front of you blurred, heavily.

You'd made Claire breakfast, a simple pancake dish and left her to eat while you headed to your room in the house. At the top of the stone steps, you glanced in one direction, looking at Lloyd’s closed door and inhaled deeply before turning the opposite way towards your suite and ultimately, your bathroom.

The water was inviting, cooler than you usually took it but it was for the best. You needed to feel something outside of the walls closing in around you.

What you hadn't expected to feel were the two arms wrapping around your frame from behind you and lips peppering your shoulder. The bristle of hair rubbing at your skin. A damaged right hand, void of its full use settled against your taught belly while a full fingered left crept over your right beast and around your neck. His thumb slid up your chin and rubbed against your full bottom lip as he turned your gaze towards his own. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as your chest shuddered with breath. He spoke of nothing, nor did you as you let him take the lead. 

Again, you wanted to feel something other than the bricks falling from the walls you built. 

You knew this would make you feel good now, and later you’d regret it again. But right then and there you didn’t care. 

He was soft where he knew you wanted him to be and hard when asked. His voice was in your ear as he claimed you against the stone wall, lips, and bristles against your skim to smooth over where his teeth nipped at you. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes bore into your own and sent a shiver down your spine unrelated to the quivering your insides felt as his cock filled you.

When it was over, he stayed, cleaned you up with care. He washed your hair, your back, soothing over tired muscles as best he could with his hands as they were. In that time, Lloyd said nothing. You didn't want him to. It would have ruined the moment, the quiet. And that was what you needed then.

Peace.

Because once the team and Six arrived, Jack would be onsite and everything as you knew it was going to change. Final pieces were going to be in play and from there, you didn't know what was next.

You didn’t know what was next for you, or him…or you and him. It was confusing and noisy. 

"I'd expect Six and The Losers back within the hour." You pointed out. "Anything you want to tell me now before I get Ryan back here and this all starts moving?"

You felt him still, and he gave a slow exhale. “Way to ruin a moment.”

"Sue me." You took a quick breath, and don't think I already have an idea of what's coming. We have our plan. Jack has his. And once this goes public, Denny's fucked. But Brewer, she could walk with plea."

Your gut twisted as you debated your next card to show. Were you going to tell Lloyd your secret? Or were you just going to let Jack handle it and leave Lloyd in the dark? Truthfully, he didn't deserve the knowledge you possessed. But a part of you felt uneasy with the truth, for once.

“I’ll shoot her in the fucking head.” Lloyd replied flatly. 

You nodded. "But you're supposed to be dead. So when this meet goes down, you aren't supposed to be there."

“And? Like we said, so what? I come back and I’m proof they tried to kill me…I was following orders, it’s simple. I claim immunity.”

Your eyes shifted to the ground at both of your feet. "Jack has proof."

“Proof of what?”

Slowly, your eyes shifted upward to meet his. The two of you were wrapped in towels in the middle of your bathroom. "Proof Brewer shot you, Two of your drones failed and fell into trees near the fountain where you fell in the garden. Its grainy, but it's proof she pulled the trigger."

“Since when!?”

You shrugged. "He said no one found it until I called him and he went back to the scene."

“Which was when?” he repeated his question.

"A few weeks after you showed up."

Lloyd looked towards the wall over your shoulder, then back to you. “Well, there’s even more proof she’s been in on it from the start and can’t weasel her bitch ass out of it.”

“She could still claim self-defense from what I’ve seen, we can’t hear what’s being said and it’s too blurry for lip reading analysis.” You shrugged, “so your only option if you want to be completely sure she’ll go down, would be to ask Gentry nicely.”

At that, Lloyd stilled. “I’d rather shoot her in the head.”

You sighed, “that’s up to you, you stubborn asshole. Regardless, all this combined with the evidence on the tape, it’s definitely enough to give you grounds to claim culpable deniability. Which means you’ll be free to sail off into the sunset on your beloved yacht either as a dead man, or a free and exonerated man, either way, no looking back over your shoulder.”

You left him standing there in his towel, in the middle of your room. You padded to the closet, looking for something to wear. Anything to garner a little space at the moment. You grabbed panties and a bra from your boudoir and let the towel fall to the floor. Then dressed in those, you emerged from your little fashion oasis as you finished slipping your worn tee over your head with your shorts in hand. "That drive gets into Jack's hand, you can cut your deal with him and be gone. Denny and Brewer get the pinch and it's over."

The smirk that floated his mustache was in humor. "You know it won't happen like that. Neither will go down quietly or without a fight."

You towel dried your hair, having slipped into your shorts while Lloyd spoke. "I'm not going around in circles with you. You have a decision to make and I'm being nice enough to give you the opportunity to do that. Figure it out, or I will make it for you."

There was a loud knock on your door, and you shouted in reply, "Yeah?"

"They're here," came the voice from the other side.

"That was quicker than the hour," Lloyd snorted.

"Get dressed, make your choice. This the beginning of the end," you tossed the towel inside the bathroom and walked past him.

His hand reached out for your arm. “Y/N…”

You stopped and turned to face him, "yeah?"

“You say I have a choice. What is that?” He asked.

You swallowed, hard, "like I said, you always loved your yacht. And your women."

He gave a soft scoff and shook his head. “There’s only one woman I ever loved. The rest…they served a purpose, nothing more.” He popped a shoulder. “Let’s go see what these fuckin’ assholes have to say.”

"Put your pants on first," you spoke softly and walked away.

**********

You padded across the veranda to meet the await team with a half-smile on your face. Jack was already there and while you frowned with the notion that Clay had called him prior to you, you didn't have to wait on him to arrive. Now you only had to wait on Lloyd to get dressed. A task in which you hoped didn't take an eternity because he wanted to be a shit.

"Well, you look a little tired and rung out, but seem intact given the chaos," you smirked as you approached your guys. "Jensen, how's your ass?"

“Perfectly peachy…” he grinned a little, “least it wasn’t my dick.”

"Malinois have a nasty bite," you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him close. "I'd be heartbroken if it was your dick. I'd sponsor the funeral myself."

“Be the smallest coffin ever.” Pooch grinned. 

“Matchbox.” Cougar smirked from beneath his hat.

"Stop it," you giggled and swatted at Cougar as you pulled away from Pooch before hugging their sniper. "Mean, all of you." Then you turned to Clay and Jack, your grin in Clay's direction. "As promised, beer is in the bar. And my office is ready," you eyed Jack.

"Where's your roommate?" Jack flicked his brows from behind his shades.

"He'll be down. I wouldn't be a good host if I didn't greet you personally first."

You looked around and saw someone important was missing. "Where's Six?"

“Headed down to see the kid.” Jack replied. “Wanted to make sure your other lodger hasn’t overstepped the mark.”

"I can promise, not a hair harmed. I had made that deal with him myself. I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"And you didn't," Court came walking up the stone carved steps. "Thank you. I'd like to think I owe you, but..."

"I think we're paid in full," you nodded. "You alright?"

Court nodded, and then smirked, “Claire said you stayed with her last night…and that she feels sick from eating gummy bears:”

"There's some Pepto in the bathroom in her cabin. She and our mutual acquaintance rotted their teeth a bit. And I let her be a kid," you shrugged. "And yes, I stayed with her. Let's get this over with, huh?"

“I’m sure you said something similar before our wedding vows.” Lloyd walked into the room, immaculately dressed, a hideous bright blue and green patterned polo shirt stretched across his chest.

"Jesus," Clay snorted, "what the fuck is that?"

“S’up Clay, fuck anymore girls young enough to be your daughter recently?”

"Fuck you, shit bag," Clay snorted.

“Oh for…” You walked off, mumbling and swearing as the two men set about bitching like children, "it’s always fucking circus, three rings and a fucking clown show."

“Oh please, sunshine, you hate normal!” Lloyd called after you.

"Listen, Trash Stash," Six sighed, "I'm tired, I've killed a lot of people and I'm ready for a break. So go inside and shut up."

“Erm, I have a trash beard now.” Lloyd pointed at his face. 

"Barely," Court snorted and brushed by him with a shoulder check.

Lloyd snorted and watched him pass, chuckling to himself. He knew he’d just been a childish prick, but it had felt good.

Clay and his team seemed to make themselves at home and he wasn't sure he liked that. It was more indication that even more men in addition to the ones he'd already knew of had been here,  and those names made him uncomfortable.

But he took a deep breath, this wasn’t the time or the place. And, he knew deep down he had no right to be angry about any of it. He was the one that had betrayed you and caused your breakup.

That stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Oh fuck off, Hansen, get a grip you soft bastard.” He mumbled. 

**********

The Losers, Jack, yourself, Six and Lloyd sat in your office. It was a little cramped with such the crowd, but you would make do. This wasn't a party. This was the end of a mission. A debrief.

You gave Clay and his team their beers, or rather they helped themselves and found their way to getting comfortable. Jensen sat at your desk, his feet up in the edge. He dropped them quickly when you glared. Then you turned your attention to Court and Jack.

"We all know why we're here. Thank you, I'd like to say I owe you guys, but I don't know if I'll get the chance, so, Ryan can pick up the tab." You tried joking. "Minus a few ass chunks, I'm glad you're all safe. This wasn't an easy op, and it was all off book. Some in this room don't deserve the favor, and I'm beginning to think myself included."

There was a silence, and then Gentry held out the pen drive.

"Is it a copy?" You asked. 

Gentry shook his head. "Much like the one I had before, Jensen said that it's a dead disk."

The four eyed, blonde agent looked over at you with a smirk, "you copy it, you encrypt the encryption. The deeper it goes."

With a sullen face, you extended your hand, and Gentry dropped the drive into your open palm. You chewed your cheek and turned to Jensen. You handed it over to him. "Play it."

Lloyd made a sound of protest, but it didn't sway your decision.

Jensen moved and tapped at a few keys on the ruggedized laptop he’d brought, the video soon popping up.

“There’s a lot of footage on here. And a lot of individual clips.” He spoke,  “all of it…black ops,” he cleared his throat, “some that bargain basement Freddie Mercury himself appears in.” He glanced at Lloyd who flipped him off. With a chuckle, he typed a bit more. “As my good friend Samuel L. Jackson once said, ‘hold on to your butts." Jensen smirked and sat back after clicking on a file read player. 

In real time, on a monitor on the wall, the eyes in the room viewed what he played out on the screen.

It was run of the mill, and nothing anyone in the room hadn’t expected. Assassinations, tortures, bombings. Lots of collateral damage, clearly all unsanctioned. Lloyd’s face among others littered the screen and files. Even Denny’s were among the faces of men filmed meeting in secret and receiving money. Articles flooded the screen as Jensen clicked on them, news clips, security footage, drone footage. All compiled neatly and clearly. Professionally to give no shadow of doubt as to who was behind everything on the drive.

Six stood in the corner, his arms folded over his chest. He’d seen all of it back in Prague when Maggie, a long-time friend, had first uncovered it for him.

"Well, that fills a lot of internal plot-holes," Jack sighed. "It's definitely dirty. You were the paid hit squad under CIA guise." He pinned Lloyd with a look. “Shadow government far beyond Denny’s paygrade." His eyes shifted between the two of you, "who was he answering to?"

“Beats me, I never answered to anyone bar him, and that’s the truth.” Lloyd replied.

"I've only ever known him as The Old Man," you stood and walked around a bit, the air in the room growing thick, even for you. "I just assumed for a long while it was Fitz. Until he was pushed out and the Sierra program was shut down. After that, I was on clean up and babysitting, reduced to desk duty and pushing papers around."

When the playback stopped, you stood still, no expression to your features, your arms crossed over your chest. Then you pushed off from where you leaned against the edge of your desk with a glance to Jensen, passing Jack as you went. 

The footage showed what you expected, yet it hurt to see for some unknown ridiculous reason. Was it because it reminded you of the vile man your ex was? Maybe. Was it solidifying the fact that he wouldn't change? Possibly. Was it the proof Denny feared exposed? Absolutely. 

You sought fresh air, so you walked out, leaving behind the loud voices in your office. The room felt like a tinderbox and yet, in the moment you didn’t care. You just needed to breathe.

You shuffled through the house and stood on the veranda overlooking the sea and the rest of your property. Jack's voice broke through your thoughts. 

"Do you love him?"

Without looking at him you spoke, "Fitz asked me that once. He said, 'Y/N, do you love him? Or do you love the idea of loving him?'" You scoffed, "even then I couldn't answer him. I thought I did, and I think I did at one time. But...." You shrugged, swallowing and not quite meeting Jack’s eyes as you turned to look at him.

"Look, we agreed, Hansen is your problem when all this is over. I could take him in now if I wanted to. But I gave you my word…but give me the nod and…”

“He was following orders, Jack, and let’s not forget some of those missions you knew and were perfectly happy to go ahead.” You shook your head. “I’m not hanging him out to dry, as much of an asshole as he is, that’s…it’s not fair. He’ll decide what he wants to do, and you stick to our bargain. He either comes back from the dead, or he stays dead and assumes a new identity. Either way, you and the CIA leave him alone.” 

“Fair…” Jack repeated, shaking his head, before he sighed. “What are you going to do about him?"

"I don't know. Right now I’m sticking to my plan. Bringing Denny down and then Lloyd can do what he wants.”

Jack nodded. "Give me four or five days to get everything in order like we agreed, before Jensen makes it go viral. Then I'll see you in DC."

"You have three, Jack, before all bets are off and I go to plan B."

Jack merely nodded, “three it is.”

You watched him go and then saw Lloyd hovering in the open patio door. He exchanged a glance with Jack, both men sizing the other in up for a second before Jack merely snorted and headed out. 

Lloyd turned to you, “plan B, huh? What do you have that Denny wants?”

"Nothin’, I’m just gonna get him here and show him the footage myself," you stared right at him, almost through him.

“Right, you meant…okay.” Lloyd ran a hand through his hair.

“What else would I mean?”

“Me.”

That hurt.

He didn't trust you. After everything over the last couple of months, a whirlwind as it were, he didn't trust you.

"That's pretty cold, even for you," you shook your head. "After everything I've risked, after all I've done." You choked in the sudden emotions. Fuck you hated it right now. "Why would I do that?”

Lloyd shook his head, “you misunderstood me…I wasn’t having a go, I was…well, I wouldn’t blame you.” He popped a shoulder. “That’s all.

You nodded, then licked your lips, holding your bottom one between your teeth for a minute. “You have three days to decide what you want.”

Lloyd just nodded.

“Right, I need to  feed these guys and send them on their way."

**********

You did just that,  fed The Losers, a quick pizza, or five, and made sure that Jensen was aware of the deal between you and Jack. When the team left, he knew what he had to do and that Jack would be the one to give the 'go'.

Six and Claire were the last to leave, a private and secure flight awaiting them to a place you hadn't asked and didn't want to know. He had been non-committal about joining you all in DC, however you suspected it was a no-go. More a protective measure for more than just questioning, but Claire's safety.

"Take care of him," you hugged her tight.

She assured you she would and hugged you back, thanking you for keeping her safe.

"I keep my promises," you winked.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I’ll let you know when we’re through, although I suspect you’ll already know one way or another. Either way, you and Claire don’t need to look over your shoulders anymore.”

Both of you then looked at Lloyd who was busy filling a glass.

“A bullet would have gotten rid of him for you.” Court stated.

“I’m sick of going over it.” You sighed, “it’s all we seem to do. You know my reasons, I explained them when we first met in that cafe.”

With a soft smile, one you were quite familiar with, Court shook his head, winked, and joined up with Claire at the awaiting car.

You watched them down the drive and then turned back to head into your house.

The door felt heavy as it closed. The security detail you kept had been sent home before the team and Court left. It was near over. As you sighed with your back to the heavy wood, a voice broke through your thoughts.

"Vino, sole?" 

Your eyes flew open, and you stared at Lloyd who stood with his still very loud shirt on and two wine glasses in his hand. 

"So you do know how to speak fucking Italian."

“A little.”

"Yeah, I'll take the wine."

He held out the one in his left.

“Did you drug this?”

“What benefit would drugging you be to me?”

"The house, the boat, my money...."

With a smooth movement, he swapped hands and held out his right. You reached forward and took the left, anyway, necking a big gulp. Lloyd sipped his and took a deep breath.

You sighed. "I feel like I've aged fifteen years in the last two months."

“Well, if it’s any consolation you look pretty good considering that would make you fifty-two.” Lloyd shrugged. 

You looked up at him, "how the hell have you lived this long?"

“Believe me, sunshine, I ask myself that question on a regular basis.” He sipped his wine.

"I'll call Loretta in the morning and have her clean the boat. Make sure it's restocked with provisions  and your things moved into it. Carlo will still drive it for hire. You just have to tell him where you want to go."

"You know, I didn't say I was taking the yacht back, Y/N." Lloyd replied. "You gave me time to make a choice. And, whilst it would be a lot easier to stay dead, well, you know me. I've always loved dramatics. And rising from the dead sounds very dramatic. Sounds very.....me. Don't spoil it for me, Peach."

You held your glass out and eyed him for a moment before you shrugged.

"And just humor me, but you know I was actually liking what we had going on here. Would it be so fucking horrible to keep it going?"

"Oh my god, are you going soft?" you quirked a brow. 

At that, Lloyd snorted and rolled his eyes.

There was a moments silence, and then he spoke again. ““I’m coming to DC. I wanna see Denny’s face when he realizes I’m alive, and he’s had a way to take down Brewer all this time and hasn’t even realized it.”

You took a deep breath. You knew that wasn’t a good idea, and also it wasn’t part of the plan. You also didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust him not to put a bullet between Brewer’s eyes.

“Kill her and you could be back on the run.”

Lloyd shrugged, “depends on whether Jack upholds his part of the bargain. I mean, I’ll technically have solved a problem for him…or maybe I’ll do it when she’s not expecting it…let her look over her shoulders for a few months…years maybe…she won’t see me coming.”

You necked your wine and stood up. “Three days." You turned your body to face him, "maybe we should make the most of it, huh?"

“I…” Lloyd snapped his mouth shut and strode after you, he didn’t need telling twice.

[before-we-get-started]

Do not think for a moment that this admin is only going after trans folks. They are ultimately going after the whole LGBTQ community. They start small, like getting rid of a hotline option, then go BIG.

[before-we-get-started]

Now is the time to stay engaged. Stand together with your neighbors. Expand your solidarity.

[before-we-get-started]

Love baby Chris ❤️

CHRIS EVANS Unknown (2005)

[before-we-get-started]

Chris Evans as Lloyd Hansen in The Gray man (2022)

+bonus!

[before-we-get-started]

@worksby-d I love this series! So good!!! ❤️

Give Me More Than Just Some Butterflies

Pairing: Steve Rogers x grad student!Reader

Summary: You begin to learn the shy Steve Rogers from your art class isn't so shy with you. Read the setup for these two here 🫶

Warnings: Age gap, unprotected sex I fear, 18+

Word count: ~700

Your chest rises and falls as you take in and let out slow, steady breaths. You’re sprawled out on your bed with Steve beside you, still half on top of you. His flushed, damp skin presses against yours. 

You can’t help but let out a quiet laugh, thinking to yourself thank God you let him take you out first if this was the return. 

But his first thoughts are somewhere else. When he finally speaks up, his voice is low and rough as he lifts his head to look down at you. 

“Was that okay?”

You slowly blink up at him, not immediately following what he’s asking.

“What?”

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and breathes out a small laugh. His hand on your hip squeezes gently. 

“It’s been a while,” he admits. “I feel like I got a little carried away.”

“Oh,” you giggle, but stop yourself not wanting it to seem like you’re laughing at him. He was a little rough, sure, but it was good. “No, I liked it.”

His look of relief is cute. He leans closer to you again, brushing his lips against yours. “Yeah?”

You nod and complete the kiss. “Yeah.”

His response comes in the form of trailing slow kisses along your jaw and down your neck. 

His deliberate movements coax a gasp out of you. “Steve–”

He smiles against your skin. “Hm?”

You feel the bed shift as he moves – His leg that’s resting between your own nudges against your thigh, guiding you to spread your legs and make room for him between them again. 

As you follow his lead, you can feel a faint ache that’s setting in from how thoroughly he fucked you the first time, but it’s not enough to impede your desire for it again. 

You tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck and collarbone. Your hand slips between your bodies to find him hard again. He lets out a deep groan when your fingers wrap around him, stroking gently. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters. 

“Think you can handle one more round, old man?” You tease, referencing the first night you talked.

“See, I knew you were thinking about my age,” he scoffs. 

He rolls his hips, pressing his cock against your wet pussy. He gives you a second before thrusting into you in one deep stroke. A cocky smirk appears on his face hearing your loud moan and he lifts his head to watch a look of pleasure take over you. 

His name falls from your lips again, this time as a whimper. 

He groans, feeling your fingertips dig into his sides as you hold onto him. “God, you feel so good.”

He moves torturously slow at first, making sure you feel every inch of his cock dragging in and out of your tight cunt. He holds a hand against your waist as he sets a steady pace. 

Writhing beneath him, you arch your back, trying to feel him even deeper. “Please,” you beg. 

“Please what?” He asks in a teasing tone. 

“Fuck me, please.”

“What do you think I’m doing, sweetheart?”

Asshole.

“Harder,” you plead. 

He hums, acting like he’s thinking about it, and he ultimately decides to oblige. His lips meet yours again for a deep kiss as he snaps his hips forward, harder this time. 

As his movements become more intense, the room fills with the obscene sounds of his hips meeting yours and heavy breaths from both of you. 

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Just like that. Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to feel like you’re right on the edge of coming for him again. You whine as the overstimulation begins to set it. 

“Steve– I’m–”

“I know,” he pants, fucking you even harder. “Let go for me.”

That’s all you need. Pleasure crashes over you in waves as you cry out his name. 

Your climax spurs his own. His hips stutter and his movements come to an abrupt halt as he spills inside you.

Silence takes over as you both focus on catching your breath again. 

It’s a chuckle from Steve that pulls you out of your blissful daze. 

“I think the question should be whether you can keep up with me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Through heavy breaths, you let out a laugh. “No fucking kidding.”

part three >>

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @pursuedbyamemoryy

[before-we-get-started]

Trouble

Pairing: Steve Rogers x grad student!Reader

Summary: The one day you choose to be a morning person gets you caught in a compromising position by your best friend. Read more of these two here and here 🫶

Warnings: Age gap, oral (m receiving), getting caught, 18+

Word count: ~600

You’re not a morning person. You’d die on that hill. 

But when Steve’s around… 

When he’s shirtless in your kitchen… Making himself at home, quietly humming while brewing a cup of coffee to wake you up with…

Maybe he’s starting to make you one. 

This morning, instead of pretending like his absence when he leaves your bed doesn’t wake you, you follow after him a few minutes later. 

He thinks you’re just sleepy and feeling clingy when you step behind him, silently wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek against his shoulder blade. 

He starts to realize how wrong he is when you slip around and slowly sink onto your knees in front of him. 

Now, he has one hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other gently holds the back of your head as you softly gag on his cock. 

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groans low and deep, voice still laced with sleep. 

You smile around him. That sound is enough to make you forget that you didn’t think through how uncomfortable kneeling on the linoleum floor like this would be.

“What happened to Miss ‘I don’t get out of bed before 10 a.m.’?”

That makes you laugh and you have to pull away for a second, letting your hand take over.

“You’ve changed me, Stevie,” you answer innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He barely holds himself together when you take him back in your mouth, keeping your eyes on his. 

His head falls back and he lets out a sigh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You moan in response, taking him deeper, determined to get him to let go for you. 

But neither of you get the satisfaction before hearing a gasp come from across the room. 

“No fucking way–”

Steve damn near jumps, letting go of you and instinctively stepping back. 

Your best friend is standing in the doorway, donning her bag of snacks in one hand and a blanket draped over her other arm – ready for your usual day together catching up on shitty reality tv from the past week. 

“Shit, it’s Saturday,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“My god!” She laughs a little, but only because there’s no other way to react. “You have the instincts of a turtle, by the way.”

She gestures to you still sitting on the floor. Steve at least had the sense to tuck himself back into his sweats and put a distance between the two of you. If he didn’t have a fear of being rude, he would have walked away minutes ago. 

“Also, hi,” she says, awkwardly waving to him. 

He stutters out a few sounds that don’t actually make up words before just settling on waving back, but not without rolling his eyes at himself.

She looks back at you, finally pulling yourself up. 

“I forgot…” 

You start to explain, but she holds her hand up, telling you to stop. 

 “Clearly, or I wouldn’t have just walked in on you going down on the old guy from our art class.” 

She turns to walk toward your living room. Scarred, but not enough to leave. You know she’ll be begging for all the details later. 

“No offense,” she murmurs as she passes Steve. 

“Hey,” he shakes his head, holding his hands up to tell her none taken.

Once she’s out of the room, you step back closer to Steve.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him quietly. “I– I’ll make sure the door’s locked next time–”

He scoffs, but can’t suppress the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Next time?”

You offer the same innocent look that made him fall apart before.

“You, my dear…” He whispers close to your ear, making you giggle. You both hear your friend groan in the distance, but don’t pay her any mind this time. “...Are trouble.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[before-we-get-started]

CHRIS 🤦🏼‍♀️

[before-we-get-started]

My First Podcast Experience

🎉 I’m so excited to share that I’m a guest on the Happy Meemaw Reads podcast—my first-ever podcast appearance by @before-we-get-started! We dive into all things fanfiction, from my favorite tropes to writing dark romance set in the MCU and Peaky Blinders worlds.

💥 If you're a fan of either (or just love good angst, morally gray heroes, & intense slow burns), come check out my work—it’s completely free to read (here and on AO3) and I’d love to hear what you think!

💀 And if you enjoy my fanfic, you’ll probably love my Hounds of Hell MC romance series published with Changeling Press. Same grit, same heat, all original.

🎧 Listen to the podcast now on Spotify

📖 Read my fanfiction here https://jtargaryen18.tumblr.com/ 🔥 Explore the Hounds of Hell MC series https://jamietargaet.com/ 

[before-we-get-started]

Chris Evans and Dakota Johnson sit down with ScreenRant

[before-we-get-started]

One of my fave series with the delicious Johnny Storm from the great @jtargaryen18 🔥❄️

Johnny Storm & the Blizzard Masterlist

When the Avengers team up with the Fantastic Four, you find yourself paired with Johnny Storm. Considering your powers are ice and snow, it’s ironic. What happens when fire meets ice?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  12 Days of Christmas: Committed

[before-we-get-started]

Thank you Jamie! @jtargaryen18 ❤️❤️❤️

Hey fanfic fans - be sure to check out my conversation with the amazing @jtargaryen18 on my new podcast. Fridays are The Happy Meemaw Reads, and Jamie was my first THMR conversation!

Check it out now