had to tie it up somehow

Suit and Tie

Written for: @gaybybirth 

Summary: Bucky is your date for a dinner party and you two sneak off to have some fun of your own 

A/N: Whew, this was a long one. I wrote this for one of my fav blogs and honestly I’ve had the worst writer’s block but this was so fun!! I’ll be getting out other requests soon :) Also please send me things!

Warnings: Bucky in a suit goddamn, Dom!Bucky, metal hand kink, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (no babies here; wrap it up kids)

Word Count: 3.6k+

Originally posted by fvckmxk

Keep reading

Wild (Sidlink Oneshot)

I’m not gonna do an intro sentence because I think the request summarizes this gloriously.

Request: “Did you see that post about Bear Grylls!Link and Total Aristocratic!Sidon? Like prim and proper Sidon gazing adoringly at his half naked BF wrestling with Wolf!Link as Muzu looks on in horror. I’d personally love to see a story about it.” Requested by @absolmon (sorry the normal linking system wouldn’t work for some reason.)

(Here’s the post mentioned in the request.)

Pairing: Sidlink (Sidon x Link)

Fandom: Legend of Zelda, Breath of the Wild

Rating: T

Word Count: 510 words. (It keeps getting lower, sorry.)

Warnings: Mildly Suggestive Content

Muzu would admit that in the beginning, his hatred for Link was bigoted and unreasonable. Despising him simply for being a hylian was an awful thing to do. As much as hated to admit it, he still held some resentment for Mipha’s death, even though he knew it was out of the hero’s control.

This, however, he was confident was a justifiable cause for his horror. 

Keep reading

High Tensions - Four

Reid x Reader

Spencer watched Y/N walk away from him quickly, a light blush colouring her cheeks. 

Somehow he’d actually managed to get to her. And that made him feel awesome inside. Maybe he could win this?

He wasn’t shy around women anymore, some of his closet friends were female. But when it came to flirting and coming on to someone, especially someone as attractive as Y/N, he was still a bit clueless. Normally he awaited for girls to approach him, which over the past few years had began to happen more often. He guessed the geek chic phase must still be in?

He was definitely starting to feel the pressure of this contest though. The lack of sex normally didn’t bother him. He enjoyed sex but was happy to deal with his own needs when the urge arose. He had been certain he’d win the original contest when it was between the five of them, but now he wasn’t so sure. Although the prize at the end of this, if of course they both went through with it, was much better than just bragging rights and money. He just had to work out how to claim that prize.

Since that day on the plane he’d not been able to stop thinking about Y/N. Watching her mouth work that sucker had plagued his dreams for the past few nights. It didn’t help that she’d taken to wearing tighter shirts, with an additional button than normal undone. Everytime she leant over in front of him, he had to look away or else he was convinced he’d end up drooling. God he wanted to kiss her there so much, maybe suck on one of her nipples. He needed to stop thinking about this so badly, he was getting hard again. 

Another email from Hotch dropped into his inbox, this one addressed only to him. 

“You know that I cannot officially condone this behaviour, but providing it doesn’t impact on your work, I don’t have an issue. So DO NOT let it.
But I have to say Dr Reid, well done. I caught the look on Agent Y/N’s face after your reply to her, and I did not think you had that in you. Perhaps you will win after all.
But if I see either of you near that empty office, there’ll be trouble. Understood?“

All of the team knew about the original bet, Hotch, Rossi and JJ not partaking. And since the rules had been revised, the team had been watching his and Y/N’s interactions more closely. Spencer also knew that they had their own bet going, everyone except Rossi agreeing that Y/N would be the one to break him. 

He needed to up his game. But he wasn’t sure how. It was alright making her feel things when he was hiding behind his computer screen, but he needed to do it face to face. 

He’d have to work on that somehow.  

You’d hidden out in Penelope’s office the rest of the day, helping her go over and file some old video footage and coming up with your next plan of attack in between working. She’d had an awesome idea but you weren’t sure you could go through with it yet. 

The few times you’d ventured out of her office you’d found yourself watching Spencer. The way he absent mindedly fidgeted when he was working was so cute, tapping his pencil constantly on his desk, or adjusting his tie; loosening it and then pulling it taut again. Although the way he licked and bit his lips was started to drive you wild. It was the thing about him that had actually sparked your little crush on him. Oh, and his hair. He’d come in one day when it had been rainy outside and his hair was soaked. The way he’d shoved his hands into it, pushing it back off his face with a slight scowl had made you actually drop the folder you’d been carrying. No one had noticed though so it had been fine.

It was home time and you’d set foot in the elevator, the doors just starting to close when you heard a shout. “Hold the doors!”

Automatically you waved your arm between the doors to prevent them from closing, seeing it was Reid who’d shouted you as he hurried down the corridor, his hair flopping and his messenger bag bouncing against his side. 

“Thanks,” he grinned at you as he slid. “Where were you hiding all day?”

“I wasn’t hiding, I was helping Penelope.”

“Ah okay, I thought maybe you’d gone to scope out for another empty office, seeing as apparently Rossi’s is off limit to us.”

You turned to stare at your friend. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you’d thought. He was definitely getting more confident at this. 

“You’re really hung up on the whole idea of fucking me over a desk aren’t you?” You expected a blush, or some sort of embarrassed reaction but instead he just smirked and moved closer to you. 

He turned, placing one hand either side of you against the elevator wall so that you were trapped in front of him. 

“Maybe not just a desk. Just anywhere in the office would be hot. Say the word and I’ll hit the stop button in here,” he raised his eyebrows, moving his face dangerously close to yours. 

“Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Reid?”

“I’m still Spencer, Y/N. Just…..this competition has bought out another side to me.”

“Gotta say Doctor, kinda like this side of you. It’s definitely the side of you that I’d like rubbing all over me…. You know, when you eventually stop kidding yourself that you can win this and beg me to fuck you.”

“I’m not kidding myself Agent. I CAN win this. You may be able to distract me with those tight little skirts you wear and I may have had indecent thoughts about your mouth after sitting watching you sucking on those sweets but I can win. Words can be just as powerful, did I not prove that earlier when you ran off to hide in Garcia’s office?”

You chuckled to yourself, there was no denying it. Sure you’d found a reason to stay in there with her, but the reason you’d gone in there in the first place was because of him. 

He was so close to you now that you could smell the fresh scent of peppermint on his breath. 

“You’re awfully close Spencer, anyone watching the CCTV might think that you’re about to kiss me or something,” you angled your face upwards to him. 

“Isn’t there a scene in that Fifty Shades book you were reading where he pushes her against the elevator wall and kisses her passionately? And kissing is technically allowed. In fact kissing releases almost as many endorphins as actually having an orgasm does, if you’re kissing the right person.”

“And are you that right person?”

“I’d like to say so.” He stared intently into your eyes, his beautiful hazel ones searching yours as a lock of his hair fell forward. You loved his hair. He shook it back, pushing his hand through it before placing it back on the wall beside you.

Licking his lips he reached out and ran a finger across the line of your chin causing you to shiver involuntarily as he moved his hand to your hair, gently tucking it back behind your ear in a gesture that was almost as sweet as it was attractive.

Spencer Reid had twice in one day gotten a reaction out of you. You were meant to be the cock tease here, causing him to beg to be inside you. But instead, somewhere in the last twenty four hours it appeared that the boy genius had grown a pair of balls. 

Fine. Two can play at this game, Mr words can be just as powerful. Suck on this.

“If you wanna kiss me Spencer, go ahead. Let’s make out for a bit, I can do that without wanting more. And God, I’ve missed the feel of another person’s mouth on mine.”

He moved closer, his lips almost touching yours only stopping when you spoke again.
“But I warn you Reid, I’m good. And when my tongue is caressing yours, just imagine how good it would feel sliding up and down your long hard shaft.“

His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide.

“Once you’ve felt my soft lips on yours, you won’t be able to not think about them wrapped around your dick, bobbing up and down on it, my cheeks hollowing as they suck and my eyes locked on yours, as I watch you watching me.”

His breathing grew heavy and his eyes seemed to fog over. 

“And when we pull apart and I lick my lips, you’ll be imagining that I’m licking the residue of your come off them.” You licked you lips to demonstrate before murmuring, “Mmmmm, tasty.”

He groaned. And you smirked knowing you had him. 

“Still wanna try that kiss. Cos I guarantee once you kiss me, I will win. Because I am that fucking good Spencer.”

The elevator came to a hault and the doors pinged open. You ducked under Spencer’s arm, leaving him standing there.

“You know where I live when you wanna try that kiss out Spence!”

You exited the elevator leaving him still leaning against the wall, the doors closing on him again.

And you were back in the game. 

A/N: remember, if you got this far then press the like button or leave a reply so I know you’ve read it!

Beware the Ides of March

this isn’t the fic i intended to write today (or ever really) but it’s the fic that happened so

read on ao3

Bellamy doesn’t believe in any higher power, not really. He also doesn’t believe in fate, or coincidence, or any of those other things that people like to blame random happenings on.

But he will admit that if he did actually believe in any of those things, he would be fully convinced that they were laughing at his misfortune at this very minute which. Honestly, he would be too if not for the stab wound in his side. Stab wounds apparently make the whole laughing thing kind of difficult. Who’d’ve known.

“Would you just hold still?” Clarke huffs as she tries to clean the wound.


“You’re incorrigible.”

“And your bedside manner sucks, princess.”

She pinches the soft skin on the inside of his bicep and he yelps, glaring at her balefully.

It’s not like he wants to be here, sitting on the uncomfortable examination table in the ER, shirt off, and paper crinkling noisily beneath him each time he so much as breathes. No one ever wants to be in the ER, leaking blood all over the place because they were fucking stabbed in a mugging gone wrong, not even if the opportunity lends itself to a bout of truly morbid humour.

Just this morning he was telling his sophomores about the Ides of March and now here he is, living his own version of it. Again, he would be laughing except- stab wound.

Clarke is bent over his side, wisps of blonde hair escaping her braid and looking platinum in the harsh fluorescent hospital lighting. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she goes over the cut with antiseptic, and he hisses once more.

“That hurts,” he grunts, and then flinches again when she goes back in with another piece of gauze. Most of the bleeding has stopped, but there’s still a lazy trickle that she has to keep wiping up intermittently.

“Stab wounds tend to do that,” she deadpans.

Keep reading

The Sleepy Scholar

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

Words: 2.1k+

Prompt: College AU + Library AU

A/N: This is my AU day imagine for the @hamwriters Write-A-Thon! I’m excited to get this out because I had this finished for like 2 weeks or so now haha. Special thanks to @helplesslylins and @secretschuylersister for proofreading and pushing me to do this! I love you both immensely <3 Enjoy!

P.S. Y/F/I means your first initial!

Originally posted by jamiiton

This all started a week ago. You were doing your typical 11-3AM shift at the campus library. Many people would shy away from the graveyard shift but it was your favorite because it was quiet and no one was typically at the 24/7 library past 2 am so you would binge TV shows or read one of the many books that surrounded you. Plus, your classes were in the afternoon so it was most convenient for you. However this week, there was one lone student that would stay at the same table, nose in his book as he mumbled words until he fell asleep at the desk every night without fail. It was only the 3rd week of school and already some poor soul was in the library until ungodly hours. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the mysterious man with the bun, every time you went to clock out he was face down on the desk, using his arms as a makeshift pillow. By the eighth consecutive night of the stranger’s appearance, you couldn’t keep watching as he wasted his life away. So, that night when you clocked out you brought a water bottle, the PB&J sandwich you never opened, and a blanket you kept in the break room with you on your way out. You delicately placed the blanket over his sleeping form and set the sandwich and water bottle in front of him, along with a short message on a Post-it note.

“Take a break! -Y/F/I”

You took a closer glance at him, mystery man was actually really cute when he was asleep. Before he could catch you staring, you left the library; giving a quick wave to Claudia as she clocked in to take over the information desk. You were leaving Pre-Calculus the next morning when you got a text from Claudia.

Keep reading

Nobody Said It Was Easy

It was far too early on a Friday night for Keith to be in bed and his body was simply not having it. Groaning in frustration, he turned over and shoved his face into the pillow, willing himself to fall asleep, even if by means of suffocation.

Behind him, his phone chirps with what must have been the fiftieth text in the last hour. He bitterly wonders who the latest message was from: Allura? Pidge? Hunk?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, the phone begins to ring and ‘Waiting for Superman’ plays, too loud. It echoes in the otherwise silent room, in the otherwise silent house. Loud. Far too loud. He grits his teeth, waiting for the designated ringtone to end, and sighs in relief when it does. That was, what? Call number four? Maybe five? Either way, he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Shiro or his annoying habit of trying to fix everything for him.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if there was anything left to fix.

Keep reading


Originally posted by mvnghaos

Character(s): You X Seungcheol

Genre: smut, pwp, theRE’S NO PLOT ITS JUST PORN

Warning(s): orgasm denial, manhandling (lol always), breathplay, daddy kink, praise!kink, degradation, bondage, spanking *flings holy water*

Length: 4180 words


The ceiling fan creaks above you noisily, blasting cool air in the room even though it’s a cold winter night but your body heats up in warmth as Seungcheol’s gaze focuses on you.

“What do you mean, you want to take control?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in confusion. It wasn’t that he was angry, far from it, it was just that he was a little hurt, to be perfectly honest, at the proposition. “Do I not satisfy you or whatever enough?”

You shake your head vehemently, eyes widening. The sex was always more than pleasurable and while you loved the way he made you feel, you wanted to see him beg for you for once. It started off as more of a thought, thinking of how you were always the one begging, and pretty soon, it was a full-blown fantasy, the idea of teasing him and bringing him close to his release a lot hotter. And it’s funny because you know exactly what Seungcheol’s buttons are, you know what to do, what to say, where to touch to get him riled up, and you can’t wait to get your hands on him.

Keep reading

MariChat May Day 13: SIN

I took some liberty with this prompt, as well. I’m trying to keep this to a single, continuous story arc, and I wasn’t ready for them to get naughty just yet. So, you’ll just have to make do with LUST rather than SMUT this time.

This is for @siderealsandman. You set the sin bar high, my friend. If anyone wants to read incredibly well written sin, go check out Sandman’s AO3.


Marinette checked her reflection in her mirror for the umpteenth time, because she was too antsy to sit still. Which was silly. She didn’t even know that he would be coming over. She swung away from the mirror with a groan, and began pacing. They hadn’t made any plans, but he had made a habit of dropping by on Friday evenings. He didn’t always come, but he did whenever he could.

And since she’d finished her Chat Noir outfit earlier in the week, she’d decided to go ahead and put it on, to surprise him with the complete look. After his reaction to the choker, she was quite looking forward to seeing his reaction to all of it. But what if he didn’t show tonight? What if he showed, but he thought it was ridiculous? What if he thought it was slutty?

She stopped. Why was she freaking out over what Chat Noir thought of this outfit? Sure, a bit of anticipation and even nerves made sense. She did want him to like them, after all. But this level of anxiety was over the top, even for her. It was just Chat Noir, and regardless of what Alya thought, they weren’t dating. It wasn’t like that for them, it wasn’t anything like she was waiting for Adrien to show up.

“Get a hold of yourself, girl,” she muttered. She resolutely pulled a new library book from her desk, and sat on her chaise to read. Either he would stop by, or he wouldn’t. She opened the book to the first page, and set about getting herself engrossed in the story.

It was late when Adrien was finally released from that stupid black tie affair with his dad. It had been boring and superficial and excruciatingly long, just as those events always were, but this one was worse because it fell on a Friday night. It had somehow become routine to go visit Marinette on Fridays, and now, he couldn’t stand to miss one. So, even though it was probably already too late, he called for his transformation as soon as he was sure that Nathalie wouldn’t be bothering him any more for the night.

The journey across the rooftops was freeing, as it always was, and he’d managed to lose some of the tension from that interminable dinner by the time he reached her balcony. Her lights were still on, which was always a good sign. He peered in through her skylight, and saw that she was curled up under a blanket on the chaise, with a book. He tapped on the glass to get her attention, and waved. Her face lit up when she saw him, and when she waved him in, he wasted no time in joining her.

“I’d given up on you coming over today, Chaton,” she said as he came through the opening in her ceiling.

“Eh, I got tied up as my civilian self.” He pulled the trap door closed behind himself, and began to climb down from her bed. “I almost didn’t come over, as late as it is. And had your light been off, I’d have turned back.”

“Well then, I’m glad I left my light on.” She pushed the blanket back to stand, then turned to set her book down, and Chat realized that she was wearing something other than her customary pink.

She was wearing black.

No, she was wearing black and green.

His colors. She was dressed entirely in his colors, and he quite suddenly forgot how to breathe. It must be the outfit that she’d designed from her sketches of him. She’d elected to stay surprisingly close to the design of his suit, and the sight of Marinette’s trim form clad in something very much like his suit was wreaking havoc with his equilibrium.

She’d made herself a pair of black skinny jeans, but rather than using black thread and a traditional cut for pants, she had cut these to echo the lines of his suit and stitched them with heavy green thread. The result was striking, to say the least. When she’d bent to put down her book, he’d gotten a very good look at the horizontal line across her derriere, as well as the twin lines that traveled down the backs of her legs, making them appear even longer than they were. The waist band sat at her hips, like the belt that circled his own body, and was likewise stitched in the heavy green thread.

By this time she’d turned to face him, and he saw that while her top also echoed the lines of his suit, she’d taken greater creative license with it. It was not made of denim, like the pants, but of matte satin, and was trimmed all the way around in piping of the same green as the thread. In some ways, it resembled a cheongsam, though she’d taken a great deal of liberty with that, as well. She’d clearly modeled the shape of the cap sleeves on the lines on his shoulders, so that they came to gently rounded points. In place of the high neckline, she wore her bell collar necklace above a low “V” neckline that would have shown cleavage on a bustier woman. The green line continued straight down the middle of the shirt to the hem, and was further embellished by two matching green frog closures.

She’d found a way to combine the style elements of his suit with elements from her own heritage, and the over-all effect was stunning, and…provocative. He moistened suddenly dry lips with his tongue, and allowed his gaze to rove over her again.

“Um, Chat? I-is it ok?”

He jerked his eyes to her face, finally aware that he had been staring, and saw that she was watching him anxiously. “Guh, Marinette, you look—er, I mean, this is—this is incredible! And—are you wearing chopsticks in your hair?”

“I am!” She turned to show him her hair, which she’d coiled into a bun and secured with a pair of shiny black chopsticks, which were embellished at the ends with tiny green paw prints. “So, you like it?”

“Like it?” He stepped closer to her, and touched a claw to the paw print on one of the chopsticks with something nearing awe. Not only had she dressed herself in his colors from head to toe, but she had made every last bit of it herself. She’d all but marked herself as his. “I fucking love it,” he breathed.

She whirled to face him, grinning happily, and he found himself staring down into her blue, blue eyes, which were presently very, very close to his face. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips without consulting him first, and in that moment, he found himself faced with a very intense desire to sweep his hand over her curves, pull her against him, and press his lips to hers. He watched in fascination as her grin faded, and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips before tugging the lower one in between her teeth. His breath caught, and he found himself swaying toward her.

“Ch-Chat,” she whispered, and he didn’t know if it was a question or an invitation or a rejection, but it was enough to bring his brain back online.

He straightened abruptly, and took several hasty steps back, aware that his pants were feeling uncomfortably tight. What in the hell? Where had all of that come from? She was watching him, wide-eyed, with something like disappointment on her face. He mentally kicked himself, hoping that she wouldn’t notice his uh, problem. Why did he have to go and make it awkward between them? He cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware that he was probably blushing enough for it to show around his mask. “S-sorry about that. I, um, ahem, I love it. You did a great job.”

She opened her mouth to speak, apparently thought better of whatever she was going to say, and closed it again. She looked down, tugged at the hem of her shirt nervously, and one half of it pulled briefly away from the other, revealing a flash of the skin beneath.

The shirt didn’t close all the way down, he realized. Those frogs weren’t just decorative; they were the only things holding the silly thing closed. He leaned heavily against the ladder behind him, feeling poleaxed all over again.

“Thanks,” she finally said, with a small smile.

He blinked, an idea forming in his mind. “Hey, uh, Princess?”


“Would you mind if I took a couple of pictures?” Crap, was that weird? He really hoped she didn’t think it was weird.

Her smile broadened, and it reached her eyes again. “Not at all.”

He tugged his baton from behind his back, and brought up the screen. After tapping the pad for the camera, he snapped a couple with her facing him, and lowered it again uncertainly. “Could you, uh…”

“Turn around? Sure.”

She smiled again, and turned away from him so that he could photograph the back. She had her head turned to the side, so he was able to capture her face in profile. Had she always been so…sexy? He gulped, and hoped that she couldn’t hear. “Perfect. Thanks, Princess.”

“Of course!” She moved to the desk, then, and picked up her phone. “Would you mind taking a selfie with me? I don’t have any pictures of us together…”

“Only if you promise to give me a copy.”

“You know I will, Chaton.” She brought up the camera on her phone, and moved to stand beside him, but the angle was weird.

“Here.” He took the phone from her hands, and stood behind and just to the side of her, and held his arm out to take the picture. He pretended not to notice that her face was right next to his, or that only a few centimeters separated their bodies. He took a few pictures before straightening and taking another step away from her.

He was discovering that her proximity was inversely proportional to his ability to think. He managed to say goodnight without embarrassing himself, and then made his escape. When he was safely several houses over, he stopped and looked pensively back toward her balcony.

They’d grown close over recent months, and he considered her one of his dearest friends. If he had found himself attracted to her, he’d chalked it up to the fact that she was a pretty girl and he was a normal 17 year old guy. He’d never thought beyond that, because he’d been so focused on pursuing Ladybug. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might develop feelings for someone else, and if anyone had asked him yesterday if there was something between him and Marinette, he’d have scoffed.

Now? He wasn’t so sure any more. She’d somehow left him aching without ever touching him, so whatever else he felt for her, he definitely desired her. He adjusted himself in his pants with a sigh, and continued on his way.


Anyone want to guess what he’s going to be doing when he gets home?

carry on, darling, we were built to last

“You are not wearing that tie,” Victor said as soon as Yuuri stepped out into the living room.

Stopping in his tracks, Yuuri looked down at himself, confused. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What isn’t,” Victor replied with a sigh, his lips curled unhappily.

He quickly stepped out of his shoes and strode over purposefully, eyes locked on the offensive garment. Nimble fingers made a quick work of untying the knot under Yuuri’s chin – he spent a good fifteen minutes trying to get it right, goddamnit – and with a snap slid the offensive piece of material from under his collar.

Victor smiled then, charming and lovely and perfect, and adoringly tapped a finger on Yuuri’s chin while Yuuri could only stare.

“I’ll be right back,” Victor sang and disappeared inside their bedroom.

Yuuri sighed, a tiny affectionate smile on his lips. It was just a stupid tie, why was it so important? No one would even care about it.

No one except Victor.

If Yuuri remembered right, back in Hasetsu when he attended the press conference to present his theme for the season Victor complained about his atrocious tie and then burned the thing when Yuuri wasn’t watching.

Yuuri fondly rolled his eyes at the memory. Victor was always so dramatic… but somehow Yuuri had come to like even that side of him.

A small, incredulous smile crept onto his face and he shook his head. He was doomed right from the start, wasn’t he?

Victor chose that moment to return with a box in his hand, opening it on the way and pulling out a royal blue tie: dark, silky and elegant.

“Did you have this planned?” Yuuri asked, narrowing his eyes at the twinkle in Victor’s eyes.

He obediently lifted his chin up, guided by Victor’s gentle fingers.

“Maybe,” Victor winked at him. He stood up Yuuri’s collar and put the tie around his neck, setting it down to work on the knot. “You really have no taste when it comes to ties, my love. I thought it’d be better to be prepared, just in case.”

Yuuri snorted a little at that. “Says the man with a pink Cadillac.”

Victor didn’t even bat an eye. “Says the man who is your date and future husband.”

Finding no witty response to that and feeling the blood rush to his face starting at the word date, and blooming further at by the end of the sentence, Yuuri looked up at the ceiling, unable to look anywhere even remotely in his future husband’s direction. His heart hammered ridiculously in his chest and he cleared his throat, trying his hardest to control the warmth that was making his body uncomfortable in the restrictive suit, but Victor was close, too close, breathing down his face and smiling softly and Yuuri was working himself up into–

Victor chuckled, done with the knot, and straightened Yuuri’s collar. His fingers brushed against the skin of Yuuri’s neck, gentle and teasing. By the playful quirk of his mouth, Yuuri knew Victor could feel his quickened pulse right on his fingertips as he trailed them down his throat.

Yuuri swallowed when Victor leaned closer. A hand ran down the length of the tie, settling in the middle of his stomach, warm and real and grounding.

And then Victor’s lips were on Yuuri’s, soft and pampered and tasting of vanilla, but the kiss was too short for Yuuri to truly enjoy it. Barely a peck, only enough to touch, but not enough to feel and get lost in.

Victor grinned when he pulled back.

“Now we match,” he said.

And they did.

Victor’s tie was a dark magenta, the colour opposite of Yuuri’s royal blue. Any normal person wouldn’t call that a match, but to them the contrast meant something – something subtle, but beautiful and long-lasting, a plea and a promise of Stammi Vicino.

It felt a little silly, a little over the top, but that was who Victor was, and no matter what Yuuri would always take him wholly: the silly and the drama, the sadness and the pain, the past and the future.

Yuuri couldn’t deny the tender adoration in his gaze as their eyes met.

“What’s next?” he asked, soft amusement in his voice. “Couple shirts?”

Victor’s eyes lit up brighter than the sun and Yuuri laughed, shaking his head.

“Victor, no,” he warned over his laughter. They moved to the shoe cupboard and slowly put theirs on. “I am not wearing any of those, they’re embarrassing.”

“But, Yuuri–”

The door closed behind them, leaving the apartment in complete silence.


A/N: I’m a huge dork who cannot make puns to save her life…oops? (Hence the title) Also, I think prom is kinda stupid, which is kind of why the imagine took the turn it did.

Tag: @ittybittydally (Can I tag you in this?? I know you wanted one)

Prom was one of the stupidest things ever, and your best friend Dallas Winston couldn’t agree with you more. It was basically spending an insatiable amount of money on somewhat decent food, dresses that would only ever be worn once and probably be ruined in the process, and crazy ways to ask someone out, only to watch your entire grade grind on each other, and give the bitchiest girl and her boyfriend bigger egos. 

Though, you did have a respect for it. It was sort of sweet, being able to celebrate surviving four years of hell, along with being able to spend one last night of fun with the people who made life bearable for those hellish years. 

Despite hating school dances, because of the anxiety they provoked, you were actually looking forward to prom, though you would never admit it aloud. You were going to be going with a group of your close girlfriends, dragging along whomever of the gang you could convince to go; basically meaning forcing Steve, Soda and Two-Bit.

Despite not going to school, you had convinced Dally to go with the rest of you, through a bit of bribery, ending up having to resort to blackmail. Though, he wasn’t as upset as you thought he would be. Yes, he grumbled and whined a lot about it, but that was about it. 

He begrudgingly agreed to go dress shopping with you and your friends, surprising the group of you when he picked out which would look best on your friends. He had asked you why you weren’t looking for a dress, to which you smirked slightly, saying that you would wait until they were slightly cheaper, not having enough money quite yet for the silver dress you had your eye on. 

The week before the prom, you had managed to snag the dress you had wanted, and your friends were at your house, deciding which of them would get Soda as their date, them having collectively decided that Dally was your date, much to your chagrin. You had argued till you were blue in the face, saying that he was only your friend, them giving you a knowing look before rolling their eyes at you. You had rolled your eyes at them, laughing slightly as you walked to your kitchen to get a snack, ignoring their antics.

You heard the phone ring as you were in the kitchen, about to go pick it up, only to hear it stop ringing. You shrugged your shoulders, going back to find the secret stash of candy you had, only to find a bread roll instead. Shrugging over your loss, you started to eat it, not really caring that much. 

“(Y/N)!” You heard your name being called, followed by giggling, and you were filled with a sense of uneasiness as you walked back to your room, looking at your friends who were giggling their asses off. “It’s for you.” You took the phone from them, only to have them laugh more.

“Hello?” You questioned, feeling as if you had just walked into a trap.

“(Y/N)?” You heard a gruff voice ask, your anxiety diminishing greatly at hearing the familiar voice.

“Yeah, Dal?” You asked, wanting to know why he was calling. 

“What color should my tie be?” He asked, sounding as if he were looking through a pile of clothes.

“Why do you need a tie?” You asked, feeling completely confused, because you were expecting him to need you to bail him out of the cooler. Again.

“For prom, you dumbass.” He said as if you had some remote idea about what he was talking about. “After all, it was your wonder-fucking-ful idea for me to go.” He said, you ignoring his tone.

“Well, I don’t know. Why the hell are you asking me?” You asked, your confusion from earlier returning back ten times as powerful.

“Man, don’t the guys tie have to match the girls dress and all that shit?” He asked, starting to feel confused himself. If Ponyboy was messing with him about this thing, he would murder the kid.

“We’re going together?” You asked, having no idea what the fuck was happening.

“Aren’t we?” He asked, sounding as confused as you.

“Since when?” You asked. “ I didn’t ask you, and you didn’t ask me.” You said, looking around your room, as if it somehow had the answers to your questions. You waited for a few minutes, hearing no response, wondering if he had hung up on you. “Dally?”

“Shit.” You heard him whisper to himself. “I forgot to ask her.”

When you heard that, you snorted, trying to contain your laughter, though you were unsuccessful.

“Ah, shudap.”

You laughed even harder, before you calmed down slightly. “Okay, I’m sorry.” You lied, with a huge smile on your face.

“No you’re not.” 

“No, I’m not.” You agreed, before breaking into even more laughter, tears starting to fall. “It’s just so funny. Dallas Winston doing something for someone else.” You told him, laughing a bit harder.

“Shadup, before I let you go by yourself.” He said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Silver.” You told him, your laughing subsiding into the occasional giggle, biting your lip slightly, waiting for his response.

“Hah?” He asked, feeling confused.

You smiled, biting you lip a bit more, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Your tie should be silver, but I don’t really care. Also, don’t bother with a corsage.” You told him, knowing that he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was supposed to do.

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, as he said, “Okay doll.” You laughed silently, as you heard him whisper “Yes,” imagining him doing a fist pump.

“See you then, ass.” You said in a playful voice, hanging up, turning back to your friends, them having a knowing look on their faces, getting ready to hear them say they told you so.

“Ah, shadup.”

Hump Day

A/N: okay so I decided to write @lucifer-in-leather this fic since she said she was in her feels for something like this, so I took a shot at it. Also no need to inform me that it’s bad, I know, I wrote it at 3am so ya. Oh, and this is also my first time doing something like this so there’s that too.

Warnings: Dry humping, sexual content, that’s about it. Nothing too extreme

Words: 1,529

Paring: Crowley x reader

Originally posted by dean-winchester-crush

It was the middle of the day and you were sitting at the table in the bunker reading a book on demon lore. Everything had been calm and peaceful inside the place you called home up until the Winchesters had returned back from their hunt, irritated and tired.

Noticing right away of their mood you opted to escape to your room in hopes of peace and isolation. With book in hand, you rushed to your room staying silent and making no movement towards the brothers with the exception of a slight head nod towards the younger Winchester when passing by him.

Your intention to relax in the comfort of your room alone was quickly halted when upon entering your room and laying eyes on your boyfriend, the king of hell himself, sitting at the end of your bed with his hands firmly placed in is lap, as if he was waiting for you.  

Hello love, not chatty today I see. Oh what, did you miss me love” remarked Crowley, with a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at the demon lore book in your hand.

You sighed as you tossed said book on your desk and walked over to straddle his lap, throwing your arms around his neck. “Oh you wish and Sam and Dean weren’t feeling good so I just decided to not speak and go to my room. And speaking of my room, what are you doing in it?

What? Can a king not visit his beloved queen when he has the time to?” Explained the demon king as he ran his fingers through your hair while starring lustily into your eyes, earning a pleased sigh from you. The sounds you made were always driving him insane but he couldn’t get enough.

Caught off guard, he started leaving kisses on the side of your jaw quickly traveling down your neck at a painfully slow pace following with a little nipping on your neck and on your collar bone, gaining a breathy moan from you. You could just feel his smirk on your skin and decided it was his turn for teasing.

You decide to stop his teasing and take control by placing one hand on his cheek and the other tied up in his hair and with that, you slammed your lips into his, kissing him passionately.

Crowley had surprise plastered all over his face but that didn’t last very long and was quickly replaced with lust in his eyes and him reciprocating the move.

Deciding to take the teasing up a notch, you grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer to you as you rolled your hips over his growing bulge in his suit pants, earning a low growl from him.

You smirked as Crowley grabbed your hips and followed your movements, using his hands to control the speed and movement of your thrusts.  

Still kissing him, you stopped your thrusts for a minute and removed one of your hands from his lapels down to cup his erection, causing Crowley to tense up for a moment at your sudden action.

You knew he wouldn’t be able to take the teasing for much longer before he would just take you right then and there. Not caring if the Winchesters heard.

Just as things started to heat up Sam knocked on your door. Making you bring all actions to a stop and facing away from Crowley towards your door.

Y/N, are you okay? You seemed really quiet earlier and I just wanted to make sure you were all right.

You sensed the concern in his voice and you lifted yourself off of Crowley’s lap and walked over to the door but not opening it.

Uh, ya Sam I’m all right just kind of in the middle of something. What about you two. You guys seemed like something was wrong, what was up?

Crowley crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at the conversation between the two of you. As he was waiting for you to finish talking, he decided that this moment would be the perfect time to get back at you for teasing him so viciously the way you did.

Without making a sound he simply walked over to you and bent you slightly down, grabbing your hips to take control and stood closely behind you. Behind you, you could feel his dick print through his pants rubbing up against your ass covered by your jeans.

You tried to follow what Sam was saying but his voice kept fading out as Crowley groaned and switched between thrusting at and rubbing his clothed dick in circular motions over your ass.

While caught up in trying to pay attention to what Sam was saying on the other side of the door and the growing heat in your core caused by Crowley, you didn’t hear him snap his fingers leaving you naked.

You quickly noticed the absence of your clothes as the room fell a few degrees, causing your nipples to tighten up. You used everything in your power to ignore the sensations Crowley was making you feel but you were quickly failing.

Crowley’s hand snaked over to the front of you to cup your breasts. You fought to suppress a moan as he fondled them and played with your nipples. All of a sudden he halted his movements but as soon as you heard his belt buckle clink against the leather of it, you knew exactly what was happening.

As Crowley unbuckled his pants you used the spare moment to lie to Sam and tell him that your stomach started hurting and that you were going just lay down and to make sure no one comes in. Sam understood and bid you farewell as he got up and went to off to go see what dean was doing.

You felt a bit bad for lying and not listening to Sam about what happened and getting rid of him but your thoughts were interrupted by Crowley’s comment.

Moose is a big boy Y/N, he can take care of himself. With that said, don’t we have something to continue, love?

You were going to say a sarcastic comment but as you were about speak, sensations from Crowley dry humping you again filled your head. Only this time, you had one less layer between you.The feelings that he was giving you couldnt be from his movements alone and you figured he was using his demon powers somehow to keep you from feeling too much pleasure.

Crowley had swiftly unbuckled his pants and pushed them down, letting them fall down to his ankles. His suit jacket quickly following but his dress shirt and tie remained intact. Now Crowley was only in his dress shirt and tie with his black boxers briefs.

You on the other hand were completely naked and were holding yourself up against the wall leaving Crowley to do whatever he wanted.

Crowley rolled his sleeves up, revealing his expensive looking silver watch. “Goddamn Y/N, you’re so fucking beautiful love, and you feel even better.” said Crowley as his hand raised and came back down hard on your ass, giving you a stinging pleasure and surely leaving a mark. 

Crowley knew that he was driving you crazy with his teasing and he knew that it would drive you crazy to leave you without letting you come first, but that was exactly his plan.

Crowley grabbed your hips hastily and started in a ‘up n down’ motion mixing it with thrusts.  Increasing his speed and slowing down repeatedly to drive you crazy and to give him the pleasure.

After a minute of repeating his actions they started to become a bit faster and erratic as he felt his release approaching and with that he instantly removed his boxer briefs.

As soon as you felt his bare cock on your ass you let out a loud moan. Your moan was the last thing he needed to push him over the edge and with a quick jerk of his cock and a groan, he shot his load all over your back.

Crowley let a breathy chuckle as he snapped his fingers cleaning up the mess he made on your back and making all of his and your clothes appear again.

Standing up straight and crossing your arms, you turned to face your boyfriend.

What about me!” You pouted. Crowley took a step forward and lifted your chin so that your eyes met his. You swallowed anxiously as you waited for him to speak. Smirk on his face he explained.

You don’t tease a king Y/N. That’s my job. Maybe if your a good girl for your king, I’ll come back later give you your release.” He explained simply with a wink before disappearing in thin air to god knows where.

You let out a sigh and grabbed your demon lore book as you hopped on your bed, thoughts of what might happen later flooding your mind. This book really was making you miss him now.

Now all you had to do was wait for your king’s arrival. If only you knew of the night Crowley had in-store for you.

I was watching episode 200 of DM and there’s this scene where Bakura kidnaps Mokuba and tells Kaiba to duel him and Kaiba is pretty annoyed

Then Bakura hangs up or whatever and Kaiba does this:

He takes off his tie and just tosses it aside. I mean, it’s his tie he can do whatever he wants with it, yeah? Then he goes to the elevator and the next scene

his face aside, he’s suddenly dressed in his regular clothes. And it’s hilarous to me because it implies that:

1) Kaiba keeps a spare set of his Edgy Cool ClothesTM in his fucking office. How- how often does he change at work to even think keeping spare clothes in his office was a necessary thing? Is it a normal sight for Kaiba Corp. workers to see their boss jumping around while he puts on his other trousers? Is there an employee whose job is specifically to tie Kaiba’s arm belts for him how is he even supposed to adjust them without dislocating his arm? I need to know

2) Apparently, changing clothes was a fundamental thing to do before running to save his brother. Like as far as I know if Mokuba was even remotely in danger Kaiba would run across all Domino City in underwear and fluffy Kuriboh slippers to ensure his brother’s safety, but now he completely changed out of his Blue Tie White Suit before going to save Mokuba from the creepy, vaguely murderous kid who somehow managed to get on the roof of a fucking skyscraper. Unless of course he changed clothes at record speed in the elevator. That’s a possibility too.

3) We don’t see what happened after Bakura ran away, but it’s very probable that Kaiba took Mokuba to do a medical check-up, a psychological check-up, and then took him home, tucked him in bed and had someone make warm soup. So I’m saying the next day someone went to work at Kaiba Corp and saw his boss’ clothes all thrown around the place. A tie in a corner of his office. A shirt that’s worth more monery than what they make in a year in the corridor. Trousers in the elevator.

4) Of course, Kaiba could have just wore his Edgy Cool ClothesTM under his suit and just took off the outer layer and put on his coat. Explains why it looked like he was sweating in the first scene

All Too Well

Anon:  can i request a soulmate au scenario with mark lee? thank you ^_^

Song:  Taeyeon- Time Lapse

Genre: Soulmate/Fluff

Pairing: Mark x Reader

Scenario: You and your soulmate have identical tattoos on your wrist about the date when you’ll meet each other.

It was when he stepped into the room that you sat up straight. Another day, another morning, another boring lesson about the Holocaust. But when you saw him, you knew him all too well. Like the little scar on your lower leg. Or the little 11/11:11 tattoo on your wrist. His eyes fell on you. You had never felt so relieved, so relaxed. It was as if someone had injected opium into your veins. Your palpitations were steady and calm. It was as if time had stopped when your eyes locked. They were so dark, deep filled with secrets you yearned to learn but somehow already knew. 

He knew something was up when he saw you, sitting up abruptly. Your scent, he could smell it from where you sat. All his life, he had been missing something. But now that he stood wearing that stiff uniform, with his heart pumping vigorously against his chest, he felt at ease. “Mr. Lee?” Your history teacher asked. “Will you not introduce yourself to the class?” Mark snapped out of his daze and looked at her, bewildered. 

“Uh, yea,” he stuttered, loosening his tie and gulping hard. “I’m Mark Lee and I’m from Canada.” Even his voice was comforting. You rested your arm in your palm and stared at him in awe. 

“You may take a seat,” she smiled at him. He nodded respectfully before dropping his bag next to the table. Before he proceeded to fish through his backpack for his history book, he turned his head. He found you already gawking at him. His eyes widened at the sudden contact and instantly looked away. Did he feel it too? You thought, returning to your book but eyeing him momentarily throughout the class.

When you were born, people thought you were cursed. The series of numbers on your wrist came off as a surprise to your parents. Your childhood consisted of you hiding your wrists and concealing the tattoo, or whatever it was. You would spend many nights looking at it, trying to find some meaning behind it. It didn’t make you feel any special. You were still clumsy and forgetful, often falling asleep in class and getting reprimanded for slacking off in P.E. Your whole life a small piece had been missing. In all your relationships and friendships there was always something missing. But now as you stared at the beautiful boy listening intently to the teacher blabbering on, you felt that void fill up. 

“Did you see the new boy?” Your friend cooed as you took out your books from your locker. She played with her auburn curls and stared out the window, smiling. You didn’t like the way she talked about him. Something made you want to protect him. 

“I do have eyes Y/F/N.” Your voice was stern. She turned around and her smile disappeared.

“Why are you being so touchy?” She asked. You rolled your eyes at her and walked away. In the race of you wanting to get away from your best friend, you bumped into someone. The stack of books in your arms crumbled to the ground. You stared at them in dismay. Anger boiled inside you, largely triggered by the prior frustration. You looked up in annoyance but met the familiar eyes of Mark. He looked at you in admiration. You stepped back, slightly scared of him. He was too close, the energy was bubbling between you two. The feeling came rushing back. He was there, he was looking at you. And you knew him. 

You hurriedly collected your books and rushed past him. He turned to speak but you were far into the hallway. He turned around to meet the ogling eyes of your friend. She winked at him and walked away. He was confused. He felt a rush of electricity when you touched him. A fragrance always lurking in the back of his mind, a gaze that tore him apart. For the first time, he felt aware. He lifted his hands and peeked through the hard material of his cuffs. The tattoo, always staring back at him, was there; the familiar numbers.

You were sat at your desk as you opened your notebook to write in the date. “it is the 11th of November.” You stopped. 11th of November. 11/11. Your eyes darted towards the clock. Mark had arrived exactly half an hour ago. It was noon now. You peeled away your sleeve and revealed the beautiful tattoo. It all made sense now. Did Mark have it too? What was this? Is this what I think it is? 

You ran out of the class and jogged through the hallways, looking for him. It all seemed so clear. You felt crazy, livid and thirsty for the truth. He was nowhere. You stopped jogging and sighed, catching your breath. A melodious buzz of strings originated from the music room. You trudged towards the entrance and peeked in through the window. Mark sat there, holding the guitar in his hands. The black tattoo peeked from his sleeve as he held the instrument close to his chest. You burst into the room. He looked at you in shock. 

“Hi, I think we know each other.” You started. He looked at you with uncertainty. “You’ll think I’m crazy okay but we have a lot to talk about.” Your voice was low but filled with excitement. He smiled at you shyly and nodded, setting aside the guitar. This was the start of something new, something beautiful and something worth keeping. You knew him, you knew him all too well.

Love Train

Originally posted by lostinmonstax

Male reader x Shownu 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the gifs/images used.

Shownu felt his heart leap in his chest as the train pulled to a stop at the station. Smoke swooshed over the platform as the doors slid open. He stepped on and maneuvered his way throughout the train. He didn’t need to look at the numbers on the seats anymore, because he knew his place, sat on the left hand side table at seat forty seven, the seat across from the man he did not know the name of, but spoke to through silence each working day.

He lugged his bag until the familiar smile of his train partner appeared. Shownu felt his heart leap again; the strings in his chest pulling tightly. He slid into his seat, preparing his greatest smile, but the other occupant was already with the facial expressions, his tongue poking out of his lips cheekily. Shownu bit his lip harshly, his tooth piercing his lip until the metalic taste of his blood flooded into his mouth.

It was like a switch, and the man opposite was the only one that could flick it. Shownu felt like a mess; flustered and blushing, all because of something as simple as eye contact and a facial expression.

Countryside flew past the windows, a blur of every shade of green and the blue of the sky complimenting each other. Shownu wanted to concentrate on it, but his eyes always drew back to the male opposite him.

The man opposite was looking down at his phone. He wore a suit, clearly in a good position at his establishment. The clothes looked sharp, but his face was soft and the two mixed in a good combination. Shownu wondered what the covered skin looked like, then he blushed, realising his dirty his mind was getting by the second.

He distracted himself with the nametag looped around his neck on a lanyard. {y/n}. Shownu felt the name engrave in his brain, something he would never forget. He wondered how many times the man had worn his lanyard, and more importantly, how many times he had somehow overlooked it. He shifted his own tie, straightening it as {y/n} looked up. But it wasn’t to look at Shownu.

A girl was stood, then slid next to {y/n}. She looked seductive in her red lipstick and her pointed black liner. She too was wearing formal wear, but the buttons on her shirt were left unclipped to far down her clevage, and her shirt rode dangerously up her thighs. At first, Shownu didn’t think anything of her, then, she was touching {y/n} and Shownu’s head filled with accusations.

As his heart sunk, he realised what this must mean; {y/n} already had someone to love. But then, he felt astonishment and {y/n} looked up, his eyes crying for help.

Shownu had spent days and weeks and months sitting across from this man, and only now was he looking into the depths of panic and worry. Shownu cleared his throat, leaning forward and taking {y/n}’s had bravely. His face was fierce with determination, but his insides were quivering.

“So, you were talking about that date again, huh? I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting much longer. It’s been ages since we’ve been out. Where do you want to go?” Shownu asked. His act was effective, because the girl’s eyes shot up like bullets.

“Too right you shouldn’t keep me waiting, it’s rude.” {y/n} responded, seemingly reassured by Shownu’s touch. He brushed the girl off confidently, the worry in his eyes fading. Shownu found himself wondering if he had been the one to give {y/n} such strength.

Shownu smiled, a playful expression crossing his face. “I guess you’ll need to punish me.”

{y/n} laughed, and the girl rose abruptly.

“You’re together?” She spat, her eyes narrowing to thin slits like daggers.

“Yes.” Shownu responded, “Problem?”

The girl huffed, her heal emitting a sharp clap as it stomped against the ground. She looked like a child, the way her lips pouted and her arms crossed over her chest. She then skulked off down the corridor, her hair flipping over her shoulder as though she had been seriously hard done by.

“Thanks for that. I didn’t know what to say to get her off me.” {y/n} spoke, he looked genuinely thankful. He didn’t move his hands away. Shownu was blushing again.

“It’s fine, anything for a friend.” Shownu said, then he started to wonder if ‘friend’ was the right term. He was worrying again, but {y/n} simply laughed.

“Friend? Really? Wow, I was put in that zone very quickly. And there I thought for a moment you might actually be interested in me too?”

“Sorry?” Shownu blurted like an idiot.

{y/n}’s eyes shone with glee. “I’m trying to say I like you.”

He then stood up as the train’s monotone female voice announced the stop. Shownu watched him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, so effortlessly perfect and Shownu’s heart was fluttering.

“I like you too.” Shownu confirmed.

“Then take me on that date, dammit. I’ve been waiting.” {y/n} winked, then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Shownu’s cheek. Laughing at his own referral back to their scenario before. Shownu grinned.

“7 o’clock, and you better not be late.”

{y/n} nodded, poking his tongue out like he had done time and time before, still sending Shownu’s head into a blur. He winked, then turned and exited the train.

Shownu was up so high, he didn’t think anything could bring him back down.

Barnes’ Books - chapter 6

Not gonna lie, this chapter is disappointing. I’m sorry. No matter what, I couldn’t get it to flow, it’s all disjointed and I hate it :/ 

I have a plan for the next chapter (when Bucky’s fiancee should appear) but I don’t blame you if you give up after this one. I’m sorry I suck.

Barnes’ Books masterlist

I definitely felt different as I walked out of the hospital. I always tried to be a positive person, although the last few months had really got me down, but I liked to see the good in people.  Knowing that Bucky had seen my picture, and cared enough to think James would like it, that made me feel warm inside. Sure, Bucky was a bit of an ass, but he made his granddad smile, and that did endear me to him.

Yeah, I’ll admit there was a bit of vanity in there too. Hearing ‘you have talent’ was nice. And yes, OK, you win. Bucky was pretty good looking, fine, yes. So knowing he’d mentioned me was a bit of a boost. I’d been dumped! It was nice to be on someone’s radar, even if a little voice in my head was whispering ‘he probably said ‘that crazy cat hair woman who hangs around drew this’…’ Whatever it was, I felt more positive than I had done for a while. I’d wallowed for a while, and while knew the positivity wouldn’t last, I had to make hay while the sun shines and all that. Not that it was, shining that is. Rain again. But that was OK. I splashed back from the hospital to my flat, and decided to take stock.  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Angeal/Cloud for 2 or Clack for 12 for the meme thing

12. Family gatherings (Sorry, I’ve already got another #2 request)

Cloud knew there would be consequences for getting married fast. At the time though…it seemed like the best option. He and Zack had been living together for almost five years at that point. They practically felt married. 

There were benefits to being officially married…as Cloud found out when Zack was not allowed to visit him when he was seriously injured during a mission. Family members only. And Zack, officially, wasn’t family. 

A good set of crutches, two pairs of suits, and a quick ceremony in front of a judge and their friends changed that very quickly. The only bad news: they didn’t leave enough time for their families to see it. They taped it sure…but it wasn’t the same. 

Zack insisted they travel for a “reception” as soon as their “honeymoon” leave was granted. Cloud was good with that idea. Cloud’s Ma, however…

“Not here,” she said. Cloud was worried in an instant. 

“I just…” she sighed, “this is supposed to be a special time for you two. I don’t want people here to ruin it for you. It’s not just that it’s you. It’s that it’s you and another SOLDIER. Ever since the reactor got shut down…people here hate ShinRa. They burned down the manor last month Cloud. Found a guy in the basement who survived somehow and…used that to justify it. I don’t want something bad to happen to you.” 

Zack’s parents were quick to issue her an invitation though. 

“We can pick you up,” Cloud started to offer. 

“I’ve got a ride, “she assured him. 

Cloud had been to Gongaga a few times, not always on missions either. Zack’s parents were no strangers to him. But this… 

“It might be a bit much,” Zack’s mother admitted, “but I’ve been waiting so long for you two to tie the knot…I couldn’t help myself.” Cloud straightened the flower crown he was supposed to wear. Zack had one too. Technically the bride was supposed to wear it, but since they were both men they fudged it a little bit. 

Plus Zack looked nice in it. 

Cloud was nervous though. It had been a while since he saw his Ma…and she sounded so tired last time they spoke…

He didn’t expect her to show up in a military truck. 

“They’ve been coming in and out of town to pick up reactor debris and protect the guys working on the windmills,” she said, “and I might have dropped your name…” 

Four more people in ShinRa uniform were invited to the wedding party. The more the merrier down here. Plus the wine was very good. 

Cloud still worried about her though. He knew he got his quiet side from her…that she’d spend the whole night quiet and by herself if he let her. And there were so many people to greet and hug and toast to for this thing. He hardly got to see Zack…except when they were told to kiss. 

When he finally did get a free moment, he had to stop. Zack’s parents were talking her ear off…and she was smiling. Zack’s mom was holding her hands, eyes teary again and Zack’s dad was patting her back in the same gesture he used to welcome Cloud. He caught the tail end of their conversation as he approached. 

“…and the hydroelectric dam has been a godsend after the reactor was taken out,” Mr. Fair finished, “still got the mako-crazed animals around though.”

“Same up in the mountains,” Claudia confirmed, “might be the only reason I get to keep my house is because I’m a good shot.” 

“…We definitely need more of them, specially since military is hard to keep round here. Cloud, my boy! Still standing?” 

“I’m fine,” Cloud said with a tired smile, “just wanted to check in.”

“We wanted to make sure Claudia felt welcome,” Mrs. Fair said, “she is family now after all.” Cloud didn’t miss the way his Ma smiled. 

“It’s a nice thing to be,” Cloud agreed. 

not your bed

Request from anon: Hey! I was thinking if you can write a BellamyxReader, where Bell is really a jerk with the reader and she doesn’t know why. So someday when he is particularly rude to her, she just say everything she was keeping to herself. After it Bell gets drunk and when the reader go ti her tend he is slepping on her bed. (if you do smut please do) Thank you!

jfnbbnsknbfiosavgir not goodnssnbkmnsnr

Word count: 1,778

Warnings: swearing and smut

You had no interaction with Bellamy back on the Ark, and on the ground you tried to have minimal interaction. From the beginning, he seemed to try and make your life harder. Anytime you weren’t working he would bust your ass about it, and if you were working he would say you weren’t trying. Usually you could ignore him, but only up to a certain point. More recently, he’s become unbearable. 

As you emerged from your tent and immediately started to walk towards your workzone, you heard his voice. Surprisingly, he wasn’t speaking to you. He was flirting with some girl, and she was not getting any work done. You rolled your eyes and set to work on tying knots in the excess fabric available. You were making containers for rations and you understood the slight importance of getting this done. You paused for a moment to squat down and tie your shoelace, which had somehow come undone.

“Slacking off again? Seriously, Y/N? Do you ever get anything done?” He said in a low tone towards you. Your eyes flicked up to him.

Keep reading

Pillows are over-rated

A/N: This has been sitting around forever!

Words: 586

“How fast do you think the food would get here if I order room service?”

Glancing up from your phone, you find your nearly dressed husband standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He has his chin lifted slightly as he attempts to perfect the knot of his burgundy tie.

“We’re leaving in fifteen minutes, there is no way it’ll get here in that time. Besides, we just ate dinner two hours ago. How can you possibly be hungry?”

Keep reading

Spring Formal | Drabble

Originally posted by polarbearridinginsweden

Request: Can you do destiel where Dean is all awkward and has a bunch of freckles and glasses and is a cutie in general please? - Anonymous

Author’s Note: Sure can! Hope you all like it! I think this is actually the first Destiel on this blog. -  Haley xx 

This was it. The dance that Dean had dreaded since he stepped foot in this high school; The Spring Formal. Normally, Dean would strut into the darkened gym and act like he owns the place but since Dean’s only been at this high school for a few days, he hasn’t been able to pull any of that off.

Now he stands in the corner of the gym, wearing an old shirt and tie of his dad, praying for this stupid dance to be over. Dean pushed up his glasses and watched Sam on the other side of the gym, talking to some girl and he smiled to himself.

Sam was the only reason he was here because Sam had begged their dad for one night off and somehow, he had agreed. Him and Sam had to be back at the house before eleven, but getting a few hours out of the house and being able to breathe was good enough for him.

“Why aren’t you dancing?”

Dean looked beside him and saw Castiel. Dean’s heart skipped a beat as Cas’ blue eyes shown exceptionally bright from the twinkle lights above them. Dean and Cas have a few classes together and ever since Dean’s eyes landed on Cas’, he’s been head over heels.

Yeah, the kid was a little weird, but there was something about Cas that made Dean feel like this school wouldn’t be as bad as the last ones.

“Dunno,” Dean said, shrugging.

Cas looked around the gym before glancing back at Dean. “Dance with me,” Cas said, grabbing onto Dean’s hand and pulling him to the middle of the gym.

“C-Cas, no. I can’t d-dance,” Dean sputtered out, color rising to his cheeks and ears as Cas held him closer.

“Aw c’mon, Dean,” Cas whispered, “it’s one dance. What’s the harm?”

Dean let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, “fine.”

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, “Ya know,” Cas muttered, pulling Dean even closer, so close their chests were touching, “I never knew you had that many freckles.” The blush that Dean thought had went away came back full force. “And you’re cute when you blush.”