look at his little self satisfied smirk

remember that time? → inspired by this post by @vrepit-sals

“God,” says Lance with a laugh, leaning further back into the sofa, “Do you remember the first time Hunk corrected Iverson in class?”

Hunk smiles a little proudly, and Pidge bounces in her seat, pointing at Lance with a gasp. Keith is silent, but watches them fondly as they chatter, unconsciously finding himself paying more attention to Lance’s toothy smile and slightly tussled hair than the topic in question.

“Yes!” Pidge hisses, “Quiznak, I can’t believe I forgot about that! Hands down the best day of my life.”

Keith smiles from where he’s sitting, crosslegged and barefoot for once on the couch next to Pidge, chin resting on his propped up hand as he listens to the others reminisce about the Garrison. He doesn’t remember much from his days there; mostly because a great deal of it was monotonous, but he does remember the incident in question. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

phil’s been grumpy & having an attitude all day so dan wears really pretty short black lacy rompers that shows his bum perfectly and phil is drooling but dan walks around and is all “nah don’t touch me” and teases but never gives in until phil just looses it and rips it off of him and fucks him on the nearest surface until he couldn’t walk the next morning

I’m so sorry this took so long but it’s done! These are the pair I wrote him in, if you’re interested. Also I threw in some dirty talk for good luck.

Phil’s been in a mood all morning and frankly, Dan’s over it. He could tell it was going to be one of these seasonal Grumpy Phil days from the moment the older boy woke up. Dan was already down in the kitchen making his first of many coffees when Phil came padding down the stairs, looking like a hurricane had taken him during the night; black hair mussed up in a sort-of quiff, glasses askew, and a face like thunder. Dan’s greatest fear was confirmed when he had handed Phil his mug of coffee and hadn’t received his usual kiss of thanks, but instead a vague grunt. He’d then just shuffled into the lounge and collapsed onto the couch, and when Dan asked if he wanted to watch the new Attack on Titan episode he’d just grumbled a ‘sure, whatever’.

It’s not that Phil is particularly nasty when he’s in these moods – not like Dan, who can make you cry with one look when he’s shitty – but he’s just no fun. He just sulks quietly to himself for a day or so before bouncing back to his energetic self as if nothing happened. Admittedly, Dan thought it was horrifically cute the first few times it happened, cooing over Phil’s jutted bottom lip and furrowed eyebrows. But they’ve been together near on eight years now and Dan still hasn’t figured out what puts Phil in this mood or how to get him out of it, and that’s probably the most frustrating part of it all.

Keep reading

Art Lover.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Black!Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral sex (fr), unnprotected sex (that’s a bad idea, bitches), flirting, Bucky being super cute.

Word Count: 2195.

Rating: 18+


Remember sunday? When I told y’ala write a reader insert with a Black!Reader? Well, welcome to the party! I want to thank everyone who read Muñeca. I wasn’t expecting people to like it that much. This is dedicated, again, to everyone who thinks this kind of fic is discriminatory towards white people, specially @papi-chulo-bucky​ anon.

I am the Queen of Salt.

Tagging: @sugardaddytonystark@sexylibrarian1@thecrownedrose @erisjade@bladebarnes@ryverpenrad @acunningstargazer@palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress@sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

Hope you enhoy this. I love you!

Bucky loved the peace and quiet of the Museum. Once he had been cleared to, at least, roam around the public areas of King T'Challas royal compound it had became one of his favorite places to go. No one payed any attention to him there or no one did, until the day she did.

He had heard her heels clicking on the marble floor first, determined and unwavering moving in his direction, until she stopped and cleared her throat, getting him to look at her. A small, pleasant smile etched on her face.

“Sergeant Barnes, is there something I can help you with?” Her voice is soft and clear, with a slightly raspy edge to it and he looks her up, taking in her appearance, her brown skin, dark eyes, her hair.
“Not really. I just like the quiet of here” Bucky smiles “And the art is real pretty too”
“Would you like to know about it?” She’s smiling at him, soft and sweet and Bucky reminds himself that it is part of her job and she probably doesn’t want to really do this. People normally stare at him or avoid him, he’s come to the conclusion that a 6'5" guy with a metal arm is not really an inviting sight.
“I’d love that sweetheart, but I don’t wanna impose on you” He gets up, ready to leave.
“You wouldn’t be imposing, Sergeant Barnes. Is my job and you seem genuinely interested in it” She takes a deep breath and Bucky’s eyes fall to her chest, the neckline of her dress is just low enough to show a tantalizing amount of her cleavage, without being unprofessional “Besides, I like talking about it and people keep telling me I have a nice voice”
“You do have a nice voice, doll” Bucky is surprised when she giggles.
“So is true. You really do the ‘doll’ thing” She laughs softly again and then takes another deep breath “I’m so sorry… Is just…” She trails off and then takes his right arm “You see… The girls? Oh, how they love that. They get all giggly when you call them that, I bet you were a hit back in the day with the ladies” she starts walking and Bucky is completely entranced by her and her voice and her energy.
“Most of them just seem scared of me. Or my arm. Or what people say about me”
“It is a bit intimidating, but that’s part of the attractive, too… I guess” She looks at him through the corner of her eye and see him smirking a little.
Bucky chuckles lowly and she joins him, her laugh is melodious and he finds he wants to hear more of it.

When they stop in front of big painting she launches into it, talking about the artist and her life and from what part of Wakanda she is, and why and how she started painting, and Bucky listens to her. It had been so long since something caught his attention in such a way, he’s sure it is in part because of what she is saying and in part because he is under her spell. No wonder people like hearing her talk about art. He’s already thinking about coming back the next day, so she can keep showing him around, but it is getting late and he needs to head back. He’s got an appointment with the technicians that oversee his arm and Steve has been a real pain in the ass lately.

The next day he’s there and so is she. She’s smiles at seeing Bucky in front of the big painting of the day before and approaches him with that confident stride of her.
“Sergeant Barnes” Just as the day before she takes his right arm “How are you today?”
“Please, doll… Call me James or Bucky, I haven’t been Sergeant Barnes for a long time”
“Ok, James. That is such a beautiful name. You look like a James” Her smile is more open today, not as professional as the day before and Bucky wants to ask her what does she mean when she says he looks like a James.
“C'mon, doll. Is not as beautiful as you” She tilts her down bashfully and her smile turns timid, the compliment came out of his mouth before he even thought about it, like a reflex or a memory from a long time ago. He likes it, it feels good having that part of himself back, even if it is for brief moments.

It becomes their thing, he goes into the Museum almost on daily basis and she meets him there, walking through it and talking about art. But soon enough the conversation starts to shift from the art to their lives, Bucky often says that whatever she wants to know is all over the internet and she insists that’s not true, he always tries to change the subject.

One day instead of taking his right arm, she absentmindedly takes his left, Bucky goes stiff for a moment, then notices how she is distractedly tracing the plates on his boinic forearm, she has gone silent, just looking at the arm and tracing her fingers softly on it. Bucky looks at her and she looks back at him, biting her lip bashfully.
“I’m so sorry, James. Is just… I had never seen your arm this close. Is beautiful”
Bucky smirks and looks at her “I wouldn’t describe it as beautiful, you know? But you don’t have to apologize”
“No” Taking a deep breath she starts talking again “I totally have to”
Bucky chuckles humorlessly and the takes her face in his hands “Doll, is ok. Look, this arm is really out there you know? Is not easy to ignore, yet you’ve only showed curiosity over it after we, pretty much, covered every single art piece in this museum. So it doesn’t really bother me” He smiles softly and this time it does show in his eyes “And I just ran out of excuses to spend more time with you and I really wanna spend more time with you”
“James” She whispers his name and Bucky looks around making sure there’s no one coming up or down the hall, then he dips his head down and kisses her softly on the lips. There’s a couple of seconds where she’s not really doing anything besides standing there, but when she does something is more than what Bucky was expecting.
“Oh, fuck it” She mutters against his lips and kisses him back, her right hand grabbing his left forearm and the other hand going around his waist, is not rushed or frantic, is deep and needy and when they pull back she’s panting softly, with a small smirk on her lips “I was wondering if you were ever going to do that”

The moment his doorbell rings Bucky runs to it, opens it and drags her in. Kissing her hungrily and unapologetically, before kicking the door shut.
“You hungry?” She just nods and kisses him again, her arms around his neck and she kicks her high heels off, standing on her tiptoes she tangles her hands in his hair and tugs, getting a moan out of him and she giggles.
“I knew it” The little, self satisfied smirk she’s wearing after discovering he likes to get his hair pulled, turns into surprise when Bucky pushes her against a wall and places his hands at either side of her head, capturing her lips agains. Then, when Bucky tries to pull back she pulls him back in, pushing on her tip toes again.
“Doll… I’m really trying to be a gentleman here” He smiles against her lips.
“But I don’t want you to be a gentleman right now” Her hands make their way under his shirt and she feels his muscles moving softly under her fingers.
“Are you sure, doll?” He pecks her lips and she chases after him, making Bucky chuckle.
“Yes, I’m positive” She’s not even finished talking when Bucky is already lifting her from the ground by the backs of her thighs, her arms securing themselves around his neck. Lips locked together.

Bucky throws her softly on the bed and she bounces on it, a peel of laughter escaping her at his actions, he takes his shirt off pulling by the back of his neck and watches as she launches into action, taking her jacket and dress off in rapid succession, the contrast between her dark skin and her pastel colored underwear is one of the most beautiful things Bucky has ever seen, he circles her waist with his metal arm and pulls her to him, his right hand grasping the back of her neck and kissing her again, his tongue slipping inside of her mouth when she sighs.
“You’re so beautiful” He’s got her face between his hands now “I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked up to me”
He pushes her back on the bed, until she’s laying on her back and Bucky takes the sides of her underwear, pulling it down her legs and taking them off. Bucky kisses her leg, starting at her ankle and going up, until he reaches the inside of her thigh and bites down on it, making her moan out loud.
“Do you like that, doll?” He does it again and her moan is louder “C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and use your words”
“Ugh… Yes, James. I like it” He bites down again, on her other thigh, and she mewls, now Bucky’s the one sporting a self satisfied smirk on his face.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll” He parts her lower lips and flicks his thumb over her clit and she squirms a little, Bucky throws his metal arm over her hips, keeping her down just before diving into her cunt and starting to suck and lick at her clit. He enters her with one long finger of his right hand, the sweetest sigh leaving her lips at his action. Bucky looks up to find her propped on her elbows, looking down at him with dark, wide eyes, he winks at her and she shakes her head. A broken moan is all she can mutters the moment he pushes a second finger in.
Bucky starts pumping his fingers, curling them up, until he finds her g-spot, watching as she lets herself fall back down on the bed, moaning his name until she comes, panting and trembling in his arms.

When she opens her eyes Bucky is by her side, smiling down at her and caressing her belly “Doll” She tangles her hands on his hair and kisses him again, hard and deep, swinging her leg up and over his hips, straddling him and grinding against his length “Stop teasing” She licks her lips and takes his cock in her hand, guiding it to her entrance and pushing down on him, taking deep breaths while she gets used to the feel of him.
Bucky grabs her hips, desperate to find something to anchor himself and not start fucking her at once. She starts rocking her hips softly, her hands on his chest and bites her plump bottom lip when Bucky’s right hand twitches on her hip, he growls at her, desperate for her to get a move on it. Little by little she starts to move faster and faster, a light sheen of sweat covers her skin, adding a soft shine to her soft body.
She leans down and kisses Bucky, moaning into the kiss and biting his lower lip, making him groan.
Then he grabs the back of her neck and there’s no letting her go back to her previous position, keeping her forehead to forehead with him.
“Fuck… Doll, you feel so good” Bucky turns them over and lays her on her back, pushing her hands over her head and keeping them pinned there with his right hand at the same time that he starts thrusting his hips fast and hard, he tried. God, he tried to take it slow, but he knows he can’t. The need is too strong for that and her face is scrunched up in pleasure. Bucky flicks her clit and she cries out his name, her hips bucking desperately from the bed. He’s so close he can taste it but needs her to come first, he wants to see her once more. So gets to it, really gets to it, giving her clit small pinches and flicking it over and over again until she screams his name, hips bucking and legs trembling, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
Is just in that moment that James lets himself go, coming with his face buried in her neck, teeth biting down on her shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth shaped bruises.
He stays on top of her a few moments, before rolling over and pulling her to his side, kissing her forehead.
“Doll… I had invited you to dinner” His laugh sounds sincere, even to himself.
“We can still eat. But you have bring the food here, because I don’t think I can walk right now”

So Much For The Genius (Pete x Reader)

Character: Peter Parker (Holland)

Fandoms: Spiderman and a bit of Iron Man

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Fluff

Title: So Much For The Genius

Requested by anon:

If ur still taking requests could u do Spider-Man with Holland n he’s very smitten w u n every time he is around u he’s a loss with words. Tony notices n realizes he has a crush on u so he tries to help him out. When u see him Peter can never talk properly or without embarrassing himself or making things awkward. Ur helping Peter learn how to fight n he finally takes initiative and kisses u.

Requested by anon:

Heeey! Couuld iii req a peter parker (tom/andrew u choose) where she is mad at him and ignores him, his texts, everything. And he tries his best to reach her, and just desperately wants her to talk to him again. Thank you!

Peter felt himself blushing when he noticed Y/N was walking the hallway. And his heart sped up when her beautiful eyes fell on him and the most gorgeous smile coming from her mouth lighted up the place.

“Hi, Pete!” Cheerfully, she walked over to him.

He stood next to his locker, keeping his glance locked on the depths of it. Staring at the books and notebooks inside it made it easier not to glance at her. Because just the sight of her warm eyes and her bright smile made his insides stir nervously and excitedly. And that caused him to be speechless and make a fool out of himself. He was just smitten with Y/N.

“Hello, Y/N” The boy replied absently, trying his best not to be clumsy or somehow embarrass himself.

“How are you?” She casually leaned her shoulder on the wall and Peter could feel her stare on him.

Feeling his voice shaky and himself jittery, he just shrugged. Y/N sighed and crossed her arms in annoyance.

“What is with you lately?” She tilted her head to the side in confusion yet a mild annoyance lingered on her attitude.

“Wh-what?” He gulped as he reluctantly took his head out of the locker and closed it with a shaky hand. “What?”

“We’ve been friends for a while now, but…” Their eyes finally met, so she bit her lip in deep thought as she observed him in an attempt to figure him out. “Lately you’ve been acting strangely. And don’t tell me ‘it’s complicated’ again”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello, Aga from Poland. :D I really love your fics. If you have time I have a prompt: It’s Derek birthday after he leaves town and Stiles drunk dialing. Bonus if Sheriff walks in and take his phone and wishes Derek happy birthday.

Oh, thank you!! <3

Since the fandom’s pretty much agreed that Derek’s birthday is on Christmas, I decided to use that here. Hope you enjoy!!

He’s had entirely too much eggnog to be left alone with his phone. His dad should know that. His friends should definitely know that.

But Scott’s busy, caught up in some kind of mating dance with Allison that involves hanging out awkwardly in doorways under the mistletoe and sending her sad eyes, and Lydia’s keeping Allison company at the other side of the room while she sends covert, longing glances back. His dad’s laughing with Melissa with that love-struck sort of look that’s been building up in his eyes for years long now, and probably hadn’t even noticed Stiles swiping the bottle, adding way too much rum after he’d ducked back into the kitchen with it. It’s a holiday, after all, and he’s allowed to have a drink to celebrate.

His dad just didn’t specify how much drink the drink was allowed to have.

So when Stiles ends up in his bedroom, staring at his phone, it’s everyone’s fault, really, and no one’s. Honestly it feels kind of inevitable. Him lying in his room, on the outskirts of the mating dances, scrolling idly through his contact list until he pauses on a familiar number. He has it memorized even though he probably shouldn’t, but this might not be the first time he’s opened up his contact list to stare at it these past few weeks. To look at the name typed out over the digits, to wonder at the way so few letters can leave his chest writhing with so many unresolved feelings.

He lifts his thumb, brushes across the short word fondly, and jumps as the phone registers an attempt to call and starts dialing.

Stiles seriously shouldn’t be surprised that it happened. He’s a clumsy, melancholy drunk, and it’s about time he accepts it.

The phone continues to ring while he stares, transfixed, at the tiny image of a phone blinking on his screen. Connecting… connecting…

It’s the phone’s fault, he decides. That stupid, sensitive touch screen, stirring up trouble by calling people it has no business in calling, just because Stiles had been maybe brushing his thumb across that name, thinking about hearing that stupid grumpy voice. And so maybe he’d been imagining the smooth screen was a rough, stubble-covered jaw, been half lost in imagining what it might feel like under his fingers… but that’s no reason for his phone to go ahead and call him.

And Derek’s surprised too, it seems like, because while Stiles is busy scowling at the stupid device, he answers, and there’s a startled lilt in his voice when he says Stiles’ name.

Stiles should probably just say he’d dialed the wrong number, or shoot out a quick, cheerful “Merry Christmas” and let that be that.

“You’re not here,” is what slips out instead, his hands clenching a little, his lips twisting into a pout that probably carries into his tone.

There’s a short silence from Derek’s end, and then an amused huff of air.

“Are you just noticing that?”

Keep reading

Tales of Miss Fortune(Part 3)

Oh, boi, here comes the smutty crack again. Sorry if there are any mistakes.

First | Next

Adrien felt his eyes dry as he stared at the screen of his laptop, while fastly writing a reply to one of his emails. This day had only brought problems. There was a delay with the delivery of Mulberry silk, the model for the May editorial called in sick and they needed a last minute replacement. There had been problems with the director for the new perfume commercial and the concept that the team he refused to work it. And there was the problem with the executive of the Milano branch who was apparently very incompetent and the board of directors there wanted to change him. Adrien sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. His head was about to burst. It was well in the afternoon and besides that usual croissant in the morning he ate nothing. And he didn’t get too much sleep either because he spent a good part of the night stopping a kidnapping. It was moments like this, when everything was just too much and too overwhelming, when he simply wished to give everything up and just go to the Agreste private island in the Caribbean and spend the whole day drinking cocktails and swimming and then get a full night sleep in his silk sheets while the room smells like jasmine scented candles. And he could use his face masks in peace. He didn’t put a face mask on for about a week now, his skin was dying, damit. Clenching his jaw and remembering he has to be a responsible adult, he was ready to return to the problems at hand when he was gently pulled against the back of his chair. He closed his eyes as his temples were massaged gently, before her hands slipped in his hair, making his ponytail come undone.

“You are going to kill yourself if you keep this up.” Marinette stated while running her fingers through his hair, and making circular motions against his scalp.

“Mhm.” was the only thing he managed to say as he relaxed against her touch.

Marinette’s fingers slid from his hair, along his neck and over his shoulders. And then she began massaging his back. Adrien bit his lip to keep from moaning. It felt so good, the pressure of her hands against his back muscles, making every knot of tension come undone. He wondered if her hands were so warm or it was his body that was warmer than usual. As she moved her hands with practiced ease, Adrien kept trying to keep the purr that was about to ring out. Her fingers pressed against a certain spot on his back and Adrien even brought his thumb to bite into. Anything to keep him from doing something extremely awkward.Godammit, massages weren’t supposed to make you almost orgasm.

“You are a goddess” he groaned, allowing himself to go limp against her hands.

Marinette giggled. “I’ll make sure to put that in my CV.” once she took care of his back, her hands slid up again, rubbing his temples gently. “I’m serious, though. I know you are technically my boss and you can fire me for this, and probably blacklist me from the fashion world forever if you really want, but frankly,” her voice changed from soothing to threatening. “I’m going to kick your ass out of the office at four if you don’t intend to leave it yourself by then.”

By all accounts, he should have been insulted for being spoken to like that. But it felt so good to not have someone kiss his ass for once, that he couldn’t help, but laugh. “Thank you my conscience. I promise we will have a normal schedule today.”

He kept his eyes closed, enjoying Marinette’s little massage, entirely obvious to the self satisfied smirk on her face.

Adrien hated his life. Thanks to Marinette, he actually got home at a decent hour and made himself a nice consistent dinner. But when he was about to draw himself a bath with bubbles and essential oils, he got an alert on his phone. Miss Fortune. Of fucking course. And now, when he stood across from her, he couldn’t help but glare as she smirked cockily at him, a painting held securely under her arm.

“Hello, kitten. You look awfully tense.”

“Thanks to you.” he kept glaring at her. “How about a deal. You put that painting down and we just go home in peace. No fighting this time.”

“Hm.” he hummed tapping her chin. “Depends. Can I bring you to my home instead of the painting?”


She sighed dramatically. “Then it isn’t a deal. This piece will look lovely on my living room wall. Though,” she smiled at him. “You would look even more lovely while I nail you against the wall.”

Chat tried to ignore the blush spreading over his cheeks as he lounged at her. With a fast move, she dodged, the set the painting on the floor carefully. After making sure her catch was out of the way she jumped back at him engaging into hand to hand combat. Honestly, his job would be much easier if she wasn’t such a talker.

“My, my.” she said in an appreciative tone while blocking one of his blows. “I could cut myself on that jaw. And even so, “she sighed dreamily. “I bet it is wonderful to sit on.”

Chat hoped his blush wasn’t to evident. “Trying to distract me with talking won’t work this time.”

She giggled. And the next thing Adrien knew was that he fell on his ass, before being rolled onto his stomach. He tensed as he fet her body slid against his, his hands immobilized. He began to struggle to free himself, but any attempt he might have done, disappeared when she spoke again.

“Oh, I really love this position.” she leaned closer to his ear and whispered. “Say, kitten, do you like pegging?”

Adrien was blushing again. Because she was using dirty tricks on him, not because he may actually really be into pegging. Seriously. His lack of answer seemed to bother Miss Fortune.

“It is not polite to not answer people, you know. But if this is how you want to play, fine.”

She began rolling her hips against his ass at an agonizing speed. Too damn slow. And yet. His body relaxed against her movement, even if his brain screamed at him to fight her, not let her dry hump him. But it felt too good for his body to even want to resist anyhow. And when her hands moved from gripping him to massage his back, Adrien just went putty. Oddly, the massaging seemed somehow familiar, but he couldn’t bring himself to care or try to figure out why. His body needed that. Miss Fortune noticed that as well as she pressed a kiss against the nape of his neck. Adrien bit his lips to the point of bleeding to keep from moaning. He was letting her dry hump him, but he would be damned before he let himself show her that he was enjoying this. The touches became slower and Adrien took a few seconds too much to realize she wasn’t on him anymore. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the painting was gone as well. He groaned.

Fuck Miss Fortune.

“Careful What You Wish For”
Words: 1685
Rating: Explicit, cock warming, creampie, orgasm denial
Also on AO3


“Hey, buddy!  Just checking in to see how everyone’s doing out there,” Jack chirped gleefully into his Echo device.  He happened to be in a fantastic mood and wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to taunt the Vault Hunters.  The bandits suffered a minor loss recently at Hyperion’s Wildlife Exploitation Preserve, but even if it wasn’t much, the fit they had over one stupid animal was enough to make Jack giddy over his victory.

Not to mention, he also happened to be balls deep inside the most perfect ass in all of Helios.  One of the code monkeys caught Jack’s eye after the kid scored an Eridium mine for the company, and instead of spending his bonus on himself, this guy literally gave his right arm for the company.  Since then, he’d been overjoyed to give a hell of a lot more than just his arm.

This kid, Rhys, was one of the few people who had been able to handle anything Jack could dish out.  He’d been given a safe word, but Rhys never used it and always came back for more.

Keep reading

franceschee  asked:

My birthday is April 28th. I don't maintain a blog on Tumblr though. I created an account just to follow the fabulous fellow Everlarkers here. If you can, I will take anything I can get but if possible, some smut please. *bambi eyes*

Happy birthday! Here is a little something special cooked up just for you by @katnissdoesnotfollowback. Have a wonderful day and enjoy the read!

Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

Happiest of birthdays to you! I hope you enjoy what I’ve cooked up for you and it adds to to your celebration. Thanks to @peetabreadgirl for prereading this sucker.  <3 KDNFB


“I’m gonna be late. Please tell me you made some hot water for tea this morning,” Peeta says to his brother as he rushes into the kitchen and tosses his bag on the counter.

“Gotta move faster, old man,” Ryen teases, but lowers his newspaper enough to point to the kettle sitting on a silicone trivet.

“You’re two years older than me,” Peeta grumbles, not bothering to look at what he is sure is a self-satisfied smirk on his brother’s face, choosing instead to focus on pouring the water into his travel mug and dropping in a tea bag to steep.

“Yes, but nothing good happens after twenty-five. They expect you to be an adult after twenty-five. For real,” Ryen complains and Peeta curses as the hot liquid splashes over the edges onto his hand when he moves it a little too forcefully towards the spot where he left the lid.

“Graham would disagree,” he mutters sarcastically as he shakes the tea droplets off his hand and wipes the residue on a towel. His skin stings, but he doesn’t have time to deal with it.

“Graham is an idiot,” Ryen returns, but he doesn’t say the rest of what they’re both thinking.

Keep reading

Nudge Theory

Characters: CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2238 (Act I)

A/N: A five act mini-series. The reader and Castiel must work together to solve the curious case of the missing Winchesters. Fluff, smut, and a plot for kicks. It was originally going to be three acts, then I got invested because Cas is adorable. Now it’s outlined for five acts. I’m not sorry.

(not my GIF)

Nudge [verb] –

·       “Coax or gently encourage someone to do something.”

“Sam? Dean?” Your voice reverberated off the tiled walls of the sprawling bunker, announcing your arrival, tone becoming tinny when they failed to respond, “The door was unlocked. I let myself in.” Feet clanging on the metal staircase, you endeavored to make your presence known - the last thing you wanted to do was catch experienced well-equipped potentially trigger-happy hunters off guard in their own home. You made your way over to the map table, tossing your bag on a chair, eyes roaming the spacious room for any signs of life, “Guys?” Silence greeted your ears. Grumbling a muffled expletive, you dug the phone out of your pocket, scanning for any new messages, scrolling back to confirm that Sam’s text yesterday did indeed ask you to meet them here, in Lebanon, in the bunker, to ride back up on a big case. You owed them more than you generally cared to acknowledge in their presence, and dropped everything to show, no questions asked - and they had the audacity to be somewhere else when you arrived. Breath puffing out your cheeks, you noted with amused annoyance that you’d never been stood up by two men at the same time, let alone brothers. You hastily typed a where-the-hell-are-you-it-better-not-be-buying-beer text to Sam, muttering under your breath, “Freaking Winchesters.” Your finger hesitated over the send button, soft footfalls heralding the approach of someone in the hall. Shoving the phone back into your pocket, trembling adrenaline-fueled fingers instinctively brushed the cool metal of the pistol tucked under your arm. Releasing the safety, you withdrew the weapon, backing up to the stairs, steadying your aim at the doorway, “Who’s there?”

Keep reading

On my mind

Anonymous said: Kuroko, Akashi, Aomine finding their s/o crying alone in the rain

I accidentally misunderstood you… Train = (t)rain? Sorry (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

Akashi: The day started bad. His alarm clock didn’t ring. His driver called sick in the morning. And as if that wasn’t enough the weather was too sunny for his liking. To say that Akashi’s mood was rotten would be an understatement. That was the fact confirmed by the head butler, when Akashi nearly bit his head off as the men suggested he’d call the boy a cab. 

Walking down a crowded street, Akashi decided that maybe using a cab wasn’t such an awful idea after all. Sitting for a half an hour where hundreds, no!, thousands of people did god knows what… No. Taking the train was better. He didn’t have to sit and if the train gets shaky, he had a firm footing. Akashi positively beamed at his magnificent logic and took a pair of sunglasses out of his bag, before pushing them up his nose. The sun was awful. Who even came up with the idea for it to rise so early anyway? Akashi didn’t know, but if he met them, he’d give them a piece of his mind.
Skilfully manoeuvring around people, he got into the carriage, finding a spot further from the crumpled bodies. He was about to start dwelling on matters of undoubtedly great urgency when he heard a quiet sniffling behind him. Akashi’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. No wonder this part of train had been so oddly spacious. There was a snivelling loser… how could it be different?
Akashi turned around to relieve his bubbling anger at the poor human being, when he saw a familiar mop of (h/c) hair, shoulders shaking slightly with cry. 

It was his (Name). 

Akashi knew you took a train to school, yet it seemed oddly coincidental to simply bump into you in such a large city. And the fact that you were openly crying, not minding the disapproving stares from people around you wasn’t good either.
Suddenly Akashi’s anger had been channelled towards those damn individuals who didn’t do as much as asked if you needed a tissue. The boy glared at them. Few people looked embarrassed, the rest simply looked away. 

With a sigh, Akashi crunched before you and pulled your wrists from your face. You looked at him wide-eyed, unable to utter a word and before you knew the boy took of his shades as pushed it up your nose. It sat unevenly on the bridge of your nose, covering half of your face.
You mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ and the boy smiled. Akashi wasn’t planning on interrogating you. At least not in front of all these people. Besides when the time came, he was sure you’d tell him everything.

Kuroko: The day didn’t start out of ordinary. Wake up, get dressed, go to school. Just a drill. And Kuroko knew his drill very well. He didn’t like it, but the rules were called rules for a reason, and Kuroko didn’t feel the urge to stand against them. At least not yet.

The sky had been gradually turning grey, so before going out, Kuroko grabbed an umbrella. It was his the 3rd one this month and he really hoped he wouldn’t lose another just to get yet another one. 

Kuroko’s mind wandered on his way to the train station, thinking of matters mostly school–related. Maybe for one exception. Lately, in Kuroko’s mind an idea had started to form. Just a simple flicker, but now it shaped out pretty well developing into some sort of a plan. And truthfully that plan made his heart kind of gleeful. Not that he actually planned to put it into action, but nevertheless Kuroko was curious if he did, would Kagami run away shrilling like a little girl.
Kuroko pursed his lips in a thin line, sniffling the urge to grin. But all of it wasn’t necessary anymore when he spotted a familiar figure in a uniform, stubbornly wiping their cheeks with awfully stretched sleeves. Kuroko’s heart dropped to his stomach. Seeing his (Name) in distress couldn’t count as pleasant. If anything, it was dreadful.
You didn’t even notice when Kuroko appeared by your side. You give a surprised shriek, when he nudges you in your ribs. Feeling ashamed to be seen in such state, you averted Kuroko’s eyes, focusing on the tips of your shoes.
Like most boys Kuroko was not comfortable with crying people, especial when he held a deep affection for them. The boy had no idea what should he say to you, but one thing was clear. Those prying eyes of passerby needed to go and Kuroko suddenly knew what he should do.
A colourful light, shaded your cheeks and, still snivelling, you looked up to see a wide umbrella hovering above your head, hiding you away from the outside world.
“What are you doing, Tetsu?” You hiccuped, wiping your tears away with your already wet sleeve. “We’re at the train station! And it’s not even raining outside…”
“I know,” Kuroko shrugs, “but it doesn’t mean we can’t open it.”
You looked at him taken aback, as he pushes the handle in your hand, clasping your fingers around it.
“You can keep it, (Name)-chan.” Kuroko said before getting into the carriage of the newly arrived train.
You stared after him, wide-eyed, not comprehending why or how, but Kuroko managed to lift your spirits up. You raised your eyes at the umbrella above you and smile. You definitely felt better.

Aomine: The carriage was awfully crowded, making Aomine’s already bad mood drop even lower. He’d give anything for those extra minutes in his warm bed, but his mother was dead set on making him wake up. At first he did well ignoring her. 

Then she came back with a glass of cold water. 

And it wasn’t meant for him to drink.

Aomine gave out a loud yawn, covering his mouth with a scarf. The carriage was stuffy and warm, and it didn’t help to kick the sleepiness out of his head at all. Aomine was sure he’d fall flat on his face if he didn’t spot a familiar face around. Seeing he ended up riding the same train as his (Name), kind of cheered him up. Slowly he manoeuvred his way through the crowd, earning himself few hateful glares, but as he was close enough to see you well Aomine halted, frown creasing his forehead. You were bawling your eyes out soundlessly and Aomine was in a bid, because he couldn’t remember what he did, if he did anything, to make you cry.
Elbowing his way, Aomine pushed between you and some random passenger, so you were facing him, the boy’s tall figure shielding your from the prying eyes.
Aomine watched you for a moment, before shuffling through his pockets.
“Oi, Rudolph!” he nudged you, handing you a tissue. You took it without looking at him and wiped tears from your cheeks along with your runny nose. The skin around it was pretty sore, but even if Aomine’s not so gentle remark was accurate and your nose was indeed bright red, it didn’t mean you didn’t feel even more miserable.
As your sniffing intensified, Aomine started to freak out a little. Dealing with crying people wasn’t among of his finest social skills. He could handle Momoi, but you were different level. It seemed that the form of attachment did matter when dealing with antics of people he had cared for.
Suddenly, an ingenious thought struck Aomine. With a self-satisfied smirk, the boy unwrapped his scarf from his neck, before bandaging you in the woollen material. Only your eyes were visible from under the thick material, so despite your current state of mind you used them to shot Aomine a dirty look.
“Your nose is an eyesore, (Name),” he informed smugly and suddenly you don’t feel like crying anymore. More like snapping at Aomine for mocking you. And truthfully that was his true intention. Aomine managed to shift your attention elsewhere. It was indeed an ingenious plan.

Follow The Angels

TITLE: Follow The Angels


AUTHOR: MaliceManaged

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine meeting Loki in a forest… When you’re both trying to dispose of a body


NOTES/WARNINGS: Ask and ye shall receive! …Okay, fine; my muse bombarded me with ideas and wouldn’t let it go. Enjoy anyway! Some blood, violence and a few f-bombs.


    “Where do you go?” He asked suddenly as they sat on the rooftop of her building one late evening taking in the cool night breeze and starry sky.

    It was hers, she’d confirmed; she’d bought the whole thing when she moved to the town, though she didn’t tell him how she afforded it and he didn’t really care enough to ask.

Keep reading

Glanni was not the most reputable man in his area, perhaps anywhere. With being despised by the popular majority came those who went beyond basic dislike, and those were called enemies. He had a lot of those.

But he was able to keep them in line and evade their fruitless stabs towards finding him. As far as many were concerned, when Glanni wasn’t raising hell, he ceased to exist until next time.

Nonetheless, he wasn’t surprised when he finally got caught, and even less so when cornered and struck him until he couldn’t see. He didn’t know exactly who they were, but he knew he’d wronged them at some point and could only hope they were too afraid to be thrown in prison for murder.

There was nothing he could do but wait for them to be satisfied by his bloodshed, and wait he did. He couldn’t be sure when they had left, only regaining enough consciousness to comprehend his surroundings hours after.

He panicked when he heard heavy footsteps sweeping across the floor, well aware that he wouldn’t survive another attack. Glanni couldn’t even bring himself to cower or cover himself up, forced to lay still and hold his breath. Playing dead was all but useless, yet, there wasn’t much other choice for him.

When the sound approaching became louder, Glanni mustered up the strength to look up at who would be the decider of his fate.

“Ithro?” He coughed out, pressing the palms of his hands to the floor to try to elevate himself, but ultimately fell flat once more. Pulling the best sour face he could manage, Glanni stared down the hero, despite having to tilt his head upwards to see him.

“Yes, but who were they?” Ithro sunk to his level, taking in how badly he’d been hurt and soon realizing it was worse than he’d originally thought. Frankly, he was surprised that Glanni was even awake and talking.

Glanni unceremoniously spat as he came up with a reply, sighing at the copious amounts of blood that made up his bile. “I don’t really know,” he slurred, turning from his side to lay on his back. When all the blood and saliva went running down his throat, he tried to push himself back to his previous position and was then met with Ithro propping him into a sitting position. Even after he was upright, he didn’t stop supporting his weight.

“I know I’m easy right now,” Glanni drawled, somehow achieving a coy expression through all his bruises, “But keep the handsiness to a minimum, huh?”

Ithro snorted, shaking his head. “You know I would never.” With that, he silently concluded serious help would be needed, but with a little luck, there’d be no lasting damage. He was just stuck on how to go about getting help for someone nobody wanted to care for.

“Of course not.” Glanni maintained his smirk, though it was taking a great deal of energy to act sly. It was hard to tell why he was doing it anymore, if not out of pure habit. “You’re too good for that.”

Choosing to ignore the last comment, Ithro drew back for a moment, eliciting a brief look of upset from Glanni, which quickly dissolved into the same self satisfied grin he liked to wear.

“I’m assuming you don’t have any first aid stuff around here,” Ithro said.

“Actually,” Glanni said pointedly, putting on an imitation of offense best he could, “It’s all in the bathroom. Are you gonna patch me up, is that it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” When he didn’t receive a response, Ithro spoke again to announce his intentions. “I’ll be right back, you stay there.”

“Yessir,” Glanni chirped, but the reply didn’t retain its desired amount of spunk with how thickly blood coated the syllables.

It was a long and lonely wait for Ithro to return, though it was likely that he was only gone for a few minutes or so. Glanni just wasn’t used to help and company, so once he got a taste of it, he wasn’t willing to let it go so fast. During this waiting period though, he had time to mull over everything and figure out the best way to go about this interaction. He didn’t come up with an answer, not even close.

“Alright, just keep still,” came Ithro’s voice, snapping Glanni from drowsy daydreaming to reality. It wasn’t long before his hands were on him again, this time pressing cotton swabs soaked in peroxide against the cuts that littered his skin.

“Fuck!” It stung. Glanni heard the fizzing of the liquid that signaled it was eating away at something that should not be there, confused as to how he would be already getting infected. Or did it mean something else? He wasn’t able to get himself to care.

“Sorry,” Ithro murmured, and he really did sound apologetic. Glanni sort of hated how genuine the man sounded all the time, because he had to be lying about some of the things he said. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be that nice to him.

They sat in silence as Ithro worked, passing quick glances at one another every so often, only to turn away when they found the other person to be looking back at them. Glanni had trouble keeping his gaze fixed anywhere but towards Ithro, hoping to God that Ithro would mistake his staring as being too out of it to focus elsewhere.

After awhile, Ithro finally finished up, patting down bandages and all the like before pulling away.

Much to his own horror, Glanni audibly whined at the loss of contact between them, so loudly that there was no way it went unheard. No matter how soon he stopped himself, it was written all over Ithro’s face that he hadn’t missed it.

“Did that hurt?” And with that, Glanni knew that he was in the clear. He could blow it off as pain, certainly, that would make sense. If nothing else, it was obvious that he had awhile to go before it all healed.

“No,” he muttered, feeling as if he had no control over what he was saying anymore. Why was it he was telling the truth now of all times? “I just- You’re leaving now, right?”

Ithro paused for what felt like an eternity, wording his sentence carefully when he finally spoke. “I assumed that’s what you wanted.”

“Well, don’t.” Glanni left it at that, refusing to further elaborate as well as look Ithro in the eye, but somehow, he had the nagging idea that he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” and Ithro held out his hand for Glanni to heave himself up with. After a minute’s hesitation, Glanni’s cold fingers wrapped around Ithro’s wrist and he was lifted from where he sat, onto his mattress. There was no frame nor support; Ithro was being kind when he described the shoddy mess as a bed.

“You might as well lay down with me,” Glanni pointed out after shifting under his covers. He tried to keep his tone nonchalant, casual, which was hard to do since he was feeling anything but. “I mean, there’s nowhere else for you.”

Ithro didn’t verbally respond, instead nodding to confirm that he agreed, going on to climb in alongside Glanni and make every attempt to not take up too much space.

Glanni noticed this effort and acted accordingly, which was, in his mind, to push up against Ithro, practically pleading to be held without saying anything aloud. To his relief and mild chagrin, Ithro accommodated, and Glanni let out a sharp exhale as Ithro held his head and waist. He wouldn’t cry, that would be unforgivable, but being handled in that ginger way brought a lump in his throat. It was a different type of pain, one that he was not used to, one that burned in his chest so brightly that it could’ve felt good.

“Wake me up to say goodbye if you leave early tomorrow.”

Ithro chose not to make any comments about the unusual request. He just laid his head on Glanni’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

“I’ll do that.” But by then, Glanni was fast asleep, exhausted from everything. No matter, Ithro figured. He’d still keep true to his promise whether Glanni heard him or not.

He felt like he deserved that much, and a lot more.

bajillionkittens  asked:

Actual HC: after his dad left, Keith had a hard time scraping by and turned to shoplifting and picking the occasional pocket just to survive. Shiro has very mixed feeling about Keith's skills in this area. On the one hand, his poor boy had to endure so much! On the other hand, Keith is now a grown adult and should know better. But on the other other hand... Shiro finds it super sexy. Reaching into his pouch, finding it empty, and seeing Keith's self-satisfied smirk is 1000% a turn on.

Sometimes Shiro sticks things in his pockets, like little notes or, when they’re on the castle and the tech is stupid advanced, usb drives for Keith to look at later. They’re always cutesy messages because Shiro is kind of a dork and Keith always finds Shiro and gives him a kiss because he’s a bit overwhelmed. 

But then there are times when Keith’s particular thieving skills have gotten them out of a jam and Shiro is ALL OVER THAT it was ridiculously hot when Keith had shot them all a self-satisfied smirk and held up the keycard and the guards’ weapon. They were on a mission so Shiro obviously only said, “Good work, let’s go” but afterwards. 

Well, sometimes those notes are a bit dirty too ;) 

Send me Sheith HCs! 

Naegiri One-Shot - Umbrella - Danganronpa Fanfic

Based on @superduperandyeah​‘s headcanon that he sent to @capndirossio,:

Can you imagine the first time Naegi and Kirigiri shared an umbrella? He runs up to see her soaking wet (claiming she’s fine) and he’s all “But you’ll catch a cold, Kirigiri-san!” She accepts his offer and they’re right up against each other almost shoulder-to-shoulder with his bright red face turned away after considering the closeness he initiated. She notices and decides to fluster him worse by saying there’s not much space underneath such a tiny umbrella so they better get even closer.

Kyoko Kirigiri picked up her pace a bit as the raindrops seemed to grow in number and volume. It was a real driving rainstorm now, and it was already a cold day even before the downpour began. It was little wonder, then, that every step that battered her with more rain also served to dampen her mood.

Inwardly, she chided herself for failing to adequately prepare. She knew that there’d be rain this afternoon, but she had felt overconfident that she would finish reviewing the files in the Administration Building well before it started to fall. To make matters worse, she’d opted to use a roundabout route from Administration to her father’s office so as to avoid the protests that had enveloped the central plaza. It made logical sense, but in rain this heavy, it was a choice she increasingly regretted.

“Hey, Kiri! Wait up!”

Kyoko paused and turned around to see Makoto Naegi running towards her with a green umbrella held over his head.

As he ran up alongside her on her right, he extended the umbrella over her head with a smile. “You shouldn’t be strolling through this without an umbrella. Earth and sand are really falling out here.”

Kyoko smiled a little, either because of Makoto’s kind gesture or because she was amused by his use of a well-worn idiom. “I’ll be all right,” she insisted as she attempted to wave the umbrella away.

“But you’ll catch a cold, Kirigiri-san!” he countered.

“There’s not much point in wasting the protection on someone who’s already soaked,” she responded. “It’s wiser for you to keep yourself dry at this point.”

“So… you’re sacrificing your health to protect me?” Makoto retorted. He brought a hand to his chest, feigning shock. “That’s so noble of you!”

Kyoko was taken aback by the smile that appeared on his face as he said it. Between that and how his eyes had slightly narrowed, it looked like…

Is he actually teasing me? she thought in disbelief.

“That’ll be the day,” she fired back with a smirk. At last, she grabbed the umbrella from his hand and held it over herself.

Despite being fully exposed to the elements, Makoto looked supremely satisfied with himself. Kyoko rolled her eyes a little. “Don’t get too cocky, Naegi-kun,” she warned him. “I’m entirely aware that you only teased me regarding the value my family places on self-preservation so that I would take shelter under your umbrella.”

His sincere smile broke into a full-on grin, and he shrugged. “Yeah, okay,” he admitted with a chuckle. “You’re right, as usual. Either way, at least it worked!”

“I can’t help but wonder where you learned such an insidious tactic,” Kyoko said with a knowing smile. “It’s very unlike you.”

“I hang out with some pretty clever people,” he said, looking over into her eyes.

When she looked back into his, Kyoko felt herself drawn to the shorter boy. “There’s… plenty of room under here, you know,” she offered. Kyoko held the umbrella to her right. In the process, she exposed her left shoulder to the rain but managed to shield most of Makoto as well.

Scooting to the side slightly, Kyoko’s right shoulder pressed up against Makoto’s left. A light pink glow appeared in his cheeks, and he quickly looked away.

“Wh-where are you headed, anyway?” Makoto inquired, avoiding her gaze.

“The old building,” she responded. She turned her focus straight ahead in order to keep herself from staring at him. “I need to speak with my father. He has me investigating some rather curious things in the school’s files. It seems our illustrious Steering Committee might be up to something.”

Makoto frowned a bit, but said nothing at first. He’d centered his view and appeared to be looking straight ahead when he asked, “And what do you and your dad make of all this?” he asked suddenly.

“Uh, make of what exactly?” Kyoko inquired in return. She suddenly felt acutely aware that Makoto wasn’t the only one feeling a bit flustered as they rubbed shoulders.

“The ‘parade,’” he clarified. Makoto gestured out towards a group of suit-clad students with signs that were visible in the distance to their right. The throng seemed to move like a wave as he headed for the newest building on the campus. “It’s growing bigger every day,” he observed.

Kyoko expression turned dour. “My father believes things are changing around here,” she suggested. “That this is a moment that Hope’s Peak and its faculty will always remember. Frankly, I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“It might not be such a bad thing,” Makoto offered. “Maybe this will push the Steering Committee to give the Reserve Course Students the kind of treatment and attention they deserve.”

Kyoko closed her eyes and suppressed the urge to grin. Whenever she heard Makoto speaking so openly and brazenly about his hopes for equality among all of the Hope’s Peak students, she felt a swell of admiration. It was one thing for Kyoko to speak in support of the Reserve Course students — she could defend herself against any student who aggressively disagreed, and she was further insulated by her father’s position within the school. Makoto, on the other hand, had no such skills or inherent protections, yet he proudly declared his support for unifying the school to anyone who was willing to listen. He did it not because he had anything to gain from doing so, but because he believed it was right.

Even mulling over those facts made her turn and smile at the boy beside her. “You know, we’re both still getting a bit wet,” she noted. “The umbrella’s too small to cover us side-by-side. Mind if squeeze together a bit more?”

Makoto’s face jerked to the left to look at her in surprise, and she instantly felt the heat emanating from her own face. “Y-yeah, of course,” Makoto replied anxiously.

They were only 15 meters away from the old school building by this point. Despite the short distance, however, they still pressed against each other beneath the umbrella. Kyoko moved the umbrella to her left hand so as to wrap her right around his Makoto’s back, and Makoto extended his left arm around her back in turn.

They walked silently like that for a while, which made Kyoko feel as though her heart was pounding loud enough to be heard over the rainstorm that surrounded them. Happily, Makoto showed no sign that he noticed it. The boy simply kept his eyes on the building while breathing raggedly due to his nerves. Kyoko heard his breaths and couldn’t help but wonder: Does he feel this nervous whenever he’s close to any woman? Or is it just me?

“Here’s your stop!” Makoto said, jolting Kyoko out of her ruminations. They walked up to a side entrance door that led into the old school building, and she lightly hopped onto the single step on front of it, taking the umbrella with her.

Turning back, she saw that Makoto had not followed her onto the small porch. “Wait, you’re not coming with me?” she asked.

“Ahh, no,” he said shyly, looking down towards the ground. The force of the rain that was now hitting him made the antenna atop his head jiggle. “I’m heading back to the dorm, in fact.”

Kyoko stepped back off of the porch and handed the umbrella over to him. “That’s… that’s the opposite direction from where we started,” she stated.

“I know,” he acknowledged as he took the umbrella from her hand. He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

Kyoko smiled and shook her head. “You’re too kind for your own good, Naegi-kun.” She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, causing Makoto to grunt “AHP!” in shock.

Turning away from him, she quickly explained, “That was merely my thank you for being such a gentleman.” With that, Kyoko Kirigiri jogged up and went through the main door, leaving Makoto standing stock still in the rain.

“You… you’re welcome… ”

soulffles  asked:

"how about you make me?” + ladynoir ....you know what to do

I saw this prompt and the first thing that came to mind was enemies/rivals au, and I couldn’t resist that kind of dynamic.  This is un-beta’d so if it’s rough…eh, I don’t really care cause it was a lot of fun to write.

Note: I’m not completely caught up on what is canon in that au and I’m hoping that I got it even just a little bit right. 

What’s New  Pussycat

“What’s the matter, Ladybug?” Chat Noir asked the cornered heroine as he tightened his hold on her wrists above her head. “I thought we were having fun playing this game of cat and mouse-er, bug.”

Ladybug met her rival’s smug expression with a glare furious enough to remind him that the small girl he currently had pinned against a wall was NOT an easy bug to squash.

“You’re an idiot if you think that Papillon is playing a game, Chat Noir. ” Ladybug’s blue eyes turned to steel as she practically spit out her next words. “And you’re a monster if you see the people of Paris as nothing but playthings.”

Chat Noir pushed down the small feeling of guilt that arose at her accusation and refocused on the task at hand. He’d been careful enough not to let Papillon see that he’d started to go easy on the civilians he encountered. He couldn’t have Ladybug realize that he had grown a bit of a soft spot for her, not now when so much was at stake.

Leaning down to match the heroine’s height, Chat Noir growled, “Quit toying with me and hand over your miraculous.”

Ladybug yawned, unfazed by his performance. “How about you make me?”

“You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re an asshole, but what’s new?”


He heard Ladybug squeak in surprise as he crashed his lips to hers, and he would’ve immediately back-pedaled –what moron kissed his enemy?– if he hadn’t felt her lean into him and kiss back.

This must-not-be-named tension between them was what’s new. The way their comebacks had become more friendly banter than actual threats as their rivalry went on was what’s new. How the thrill of the chase was no longer about capturing her miraculous, but seeing her outside of the news articles he had pinned to the cork-board behind his computer screen was what’s new.

This red hot feeling pulsating throughout his entire body with every touch of her lips to his was what’s new.

Ignoring the warning bells going off in his head, Chat loosened his hold on her wrists, but didn’t let go of them (he wasn’t that stupid), and stepped closer to Ladybug, planting his left leg between hers. He straightened to his full height, adjusting the angle of their kiss to deepen it, to keep it going–whatever it was– for as long as he could.

He had no guarantee that when their kiss ended Ladybug wouldn’t sock him in the jaw, and that was the kind of bruise he didn’t want to have to explain to his makeup team at the morning shoot.

The kind of bruise Ladybug ended-up nibbling into the hollow of his throat as her mouth left his and dipped down into the open V of his collar however…that was a completely different story.

Chat couldn’t help the purr that rumbled through his body as Ladybug continued kissing along his jaw.

Ladybug stilled, looking up at him with a raised eye-brow. “I didn’t know you purred, chatton.”

“And I didn’t know that you were into bad boys.”

“I’m not,” Ladybug replied stubbornly.

“This,” he said, swooping in for another bone-melting kiss, and reeling back with a self-satisfied smirk as he saw her freckled cheeks redden. “Makes me think otherwise.”

Chat Noir’s grin widened as he felt her fingers intertwine with his.

“Well, maybe you are a little attractive.” Ladybug admitted with a small smile.

“Kind of an understatement, don’t you think?”

“You really want to know what I think, Chat Noir?”

Chat pecked her on the nose, “What do you think, bugaboo?”

I think–”

Chat  barely had time to process the shit-eating grin that formed on Ladybug’s face as she reared her head back and knocked him back to the ground.

He was seeing stars and close to losing consciousness when Ladybug bent over his sprawled out body to finally give him a piece of her mind.

“I think you’re the worst villain I’ve ever seen, Chat Noir, and I wish you’d realize that.”

Well, maybe I’m starting to.

captaingrahamcr  asked:

Ten x rose 35(:

35. “After you.”

Rose had a secret.

She was actually a pretty fast runner. Nowhere near the speed of the Doctor, of course, with his blasted ‘superior biology’, but she could definitely hold her own in speed and stamina.

But she quite enjoyed the view when she lagged behind. Especially now that the Doctor had changed and wore those damned tight suits of him, Rose had caught herself ogling his bum far more often than was probably considered decent.

(Jackie’d caught her once, and was still giving her hell over it.)

As time wore on, Rose became increasingly certain that the Doctor knew her little secret- but she’d rather jump into the Time Vortex than admit it to him. But the knowing looks, the way he swung his hips just so when he knew she was right behind him, that stupid self-satisfied smirk all let her know that he knew very well what she was doing.

So she didn’t fight it when he’d ushered her out the TARDIS door first, with an overly polite “after you”. 

(Little did she know that the Doctor also had a secret….her bum was pretty fantastic as well.)

Send me a prompt + pairing/character, I’ll write you a ficlet!

Day Two: Magnus + fingers

Magnus hated meetings. Even worse, he hated long boring meetings that seemed to drag on forever. Hell, even Winston hadn’t yapped on for this long, and the man had loved hearing the sound of his own voice. What he hated worse than long boring meetings? Long boring meetings with the clave.

Which was why he had no idea why the hell he was sitting in the room being ignored by half of the prissy clave representatives who were pretending he didn’t exist whilst the other half only paid him the barest amount of attention necessary.

Magnus didn’t mind. Whist they droned incessantly about their boring and outdated laws, he was doing something more valuable with his time: slowly driving Alexander Lightwood insane, one stroke at a time.

Alec made a strangled sound when Magnus’ fingers danced dangerously close to his crotch and Imogen prissy Herondale gave him a stern look. “Anything wrong Lightwood?”

Alec tried looking stern as he shook his head. “Everything is fine ma'am.”

The ma'am in question narrowed her eyes at Magnus. Magnus waved the hand he had up on the table at her and he grinned when she looked disapprovingly at the angel wings he’d painted on his nails.

She sniffed and looked away and Magnus rolled his eyes and then winked at Alec who looked like he half wanted to kiss him and half wanted to scold him for trying to distract him at a Clave meeting.

But then his attention was called away by yet another Clave member and he looked away. Not one to waste any moment, Magnus walked the fingers he’d had on Alec’s thighs to his side, pressing in briefly to pull that smile from his face because they both knew just how ticklish Alec was in that spot and then he finished the walk and got to Alec’s smooth back. He balanced his chin on the hand that was on the table, making sure not to hide his disinterest in the entire proceedings, all the while drawing lazy shapes on Alec’s back. He drew them easily. Circles and triangles. The occasional rune followed by the straight line he drew all the way to the base of Alec’s spine and then back up again.

Alec tried to hide the shivers but he couldn’t successfully hide those responses, especially not from Magnus who lived for the way Alec’s eyes went a bit hazy when his fingers brushed against the long line of his spine, or the way his breath hitched when Magnus’ nails dug in just a bit, giving him that sharp bite of pain. When his fingers dipped into the hem of Alec’s pants and slid against the entrance to his hole, Alec shot up so quick, Magnus barely had the time to bring his hand back to resting on thighs.

“Let’s reconvene,” Alec said. He sounded a little hoarse and Magnus felt a thrill of satisfaction. “Something came up.”

Oh something came up all right.

Magnus had to hold back his self-satisfied smirk. It wouldn’t do to have the clave members look at him suspiciously now could he?

When the last of them were gone and the room had emptied out, Alec expelled a loud gush of air and chuckled. “Tease.”

Magnus chuckled and pushed off from the table. He threw a portal open and extended his hand at Alec “punish me?”

Alec’s chuckles as he took his hand was satisfying. As satisfying as the whispered promise Alec placed against his ear just as they tumbled into the loft. “You betcha.”

astrila  asked:

Happy Holidays!! Holy smokes, I've read a few of your posts and they're really good! Would it be alright if in make a request? You can ignore if you've got too much! Hc or scenario of rfa (+unknown) making some holiday treats? Thanks!

Thank you so much. That means a lot! 

I hope this makes sense, It’s 3:30 am here. 

Anyway enjoy.

Yoosung: It was more or less of a train wreck trying to get the two of them into the kitchen and baking together. Yoosung wasn’t exactly the best at cooking or baking, and most things he made ended up badly burnt, though still moderately edible. 

MC was only slightly better than he was, yet still somehow they managed to keep things under control. 

“Next!” MC called, putting the left over ingredients away.

“Get out the icing,” He called from where he was perched on a chair near where the cookies were still cooling off. It was somewhat strange to see the cookies steaming and warm, and impressively not burnt.  

“We need to wait until they’re cooled down to ice them,” MC said, still getting the icing out and setting it on the counter. As they waited for the cookies to cool down, they planned out how each one would be decorated.

Zen: “I’m putting on the green icing.” Zen insisted. 

Fine then,” MC, pouted, picking up the red icing and setting to work on her cupcakes and she decorated them, desperate to make hers look better than Zen’s while also trying to get them done faster.

Even without saying anything, he realised what she was doing and quickly picked up the pace, watching her occasionally to see how close they were. Zen’s were hurriedly done though barely showed it, which MC’s showed that they were hastily made, but also had sprinkles or little toothpicks sticking out, already color coded. 

“Done! I win!” They shouted in delight. 

Zen pouted for a moment before he set down his materials, pulling MC close and kissing her very suddenly, waiting a moment before pulling back with pink tinged cheeks and a very self satisfied smirk. “I won too.” he mumbled. 

Jaehee: The two of them baking together was mostly code for Jaehee baking and MC standing next to her and chatting as they pretended that they were doing something very important.  

“So…what’re we making Jaehee?” they asked in excitement. 

“Butterscotch cake.” Jaehee answered with a soft hum. 

Normally MC would have complained that that wasn’t nearly ‘holiday’ enough but gave in due to the fact that her butterscotch cake was one of the best things they’d ever tasted in their life. 

“How can I help?” They demanded, watching in amusement as Jaehee’s smile faded and was replaced with the expression of someone who didn’t know how to answer without offending someone they loved. “Just stay here and keep talking to me, your company is more than enough help.” she offered with a smile.

Jumin: He is shocking good at baking. 

“What are those?” 

“Cat shaped cookies, shaped like Elisabeth 3rd.” 

MC didn’t bother to ask him either why or how he managed to get the meringue cookies to resemble her so much, but they did resemble the blue eyed cat that Jumin kept glancing back at with a smile. 

“How did you learn to do this?”

“I got bored. It wasn’t especially hard. There are lots of tutorials online that make it even easier. 

Seven: “What’s on the menu today God Seven?” MC cheered gleefully as they sat one one of the many wheeled stools they had in the kitchen. 

“A very special treat for a very special person,” He responded with a grin as he covered MC’s eyes with a blindfold before setting to work in getting the ingredients out. 

“Which its?” MC asked in a singsong voice, delighted that he had chosen to play along that morning. 

“Seven layer cookies from God 707 to his 606.” 

MC blushed as they tried to remove the blindfold, only to be met with an anguished shriek from him who immediately complained that they couldn’t take it off or it would ruin all the fun. 

“I already know what you’re making.”

“Yes, but you won’t be surprised when I do this if I take it off,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to their forehead. 

Saeran: “What are you doing?” he demanded as MC held out the spatula to him. 

“Take it.” They insisted, with a gentle smile that was silently begging him to just believe them. “You won’t regret it I swear, see, I’m doing it too,” they said, shoving the tray into the oven. “It’s the best part about making brownies, you get the left over batter while they bake.” 

He nodded, watching MC taste the batter first before he made a move to copy them, smiling as he did. 

“Is this what they taste like when they’re done too?” He asked in the strange sense of awe that tasting new desserts always put him in that made MC giggle. 

“Kind of.” They answered. “If you want you can have the first one.” they knew he wouldn’t accept it until she’d tasted one first, but it was nice to offer anyway. ‘You’ll like it, I promise.” They assured him.