look at his little self satisfied smirk

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.

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Breaking the Rules - part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,157

Warnings: the usual +  Mention of Cheating, Mention of Emotionally Abusive Relationship

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter, lovelies!

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

Originally posted by pennymany

You woke up with a start, unsure where you were. The distant sound of laughter filled the room and you rolled to your side, groaning. The light filtering through the curtains was bright enough to see by, but your eyes were still blurry from sleep.

“It’s barely seven!” Bucky groaned.

His head appeared just above the mattress as he sat up from the floor. He was at eye level with you and yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth. You buried your face into the pillow, mumbling something about morning breath.

“So this is what you look like in the morning,” he said, stretching his back. “Interesting.”

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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. 

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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+

Masterlist.

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”

BTS Reaction - doing something domestic/feminine together

Seokjin

The rest of the world might know that cooking is just one of Jin’s many talents, but somehow that piece of information seems to have completely passed you by.  That’s why you’d never even thought to ask for his help making cupcakes for your fundraiser - surely too domestic a task for such a broad-shouldered man as Jin - and it’s also why when he comes to pick you up for your date he finds you way behind schedule, in a mess of eggs and flour, stood looking despairingly at 200 tiny cakes that all need icing before tomorrow.  He just smiles knowingly at you as he takes the piping equipment from your hands and then proceeds to ice each and every one of them, always with a smile and always with a flourish, revelling in the dumbfounded look on your face.  When he’s done he walks over to you and splodges out a dollop onto the end of your nose, too, his eyes creasing with amusement.  

“There.  Perfect, right Jagi?” 

Originally posted by notjin

Yoongi

It takes a fair bit of convincing from you to talk Yoongi into helping you paint your toenails.  For one, he says, he’s never even touched nail polish before (you don’t believe him), and two, you know he doesn’t like feet.  You’re in a rush, you argue, there’s no way you have time to do both your hands and your feet before dinner unless he gives you a hand. He relents, eventually, though he still crinkles his nose in distaste for almost the entire time he’s working.  It’s all too easy for you to tease him, wiggling your toes between coats of pink paint and giggling at his reaction, only stopping when he threatens to start tickling your feet in return.  He’s actually a very good nail artist, what with his laser focus attention and steady hands, but when you tell him this he just glares up at you like you just insulted his mother rather than complimented him.  

“You tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you.” 

Originally posted by bangtanboysloves

Hoseok

You hadn’t quite anticipated just how difficult it would be to wash your hair with a broken arm.  Your cast needs to stay dry so you’re leant over the tub in just your jeans and bra,  trying to figure out where the hell to put the shower head while you lather up your hair with shampoo.  You end up trying to hold it in your mouth, only for it to fall out again a second later, twisting when it hits the tub and spraying water all over the walls and ceiling.  The sound of your shrieking summons Hobi to the bathroom, and he flings open the door with a panicked look on his face that quickly morphs into amusement as he watches you scrambling around trying to grab hold of the shower again.  He gently pushes past you and picks it up with a smile, offering to wash your hair for you rather than watch you struggle, as funny as it may be.  

“I don’t want you breaking the other arm too, babygirl.  Let me help.” 

Originally posted by hobsmxtape

Namjoon

Joonie watches with ill-disguised suspicion as you sit down next to him on the sofa, placing your sewing kit on the coffee table and laying your blouse across his lap with a smile.  You take out a needle and thread and a packet of little cream buttons and lay them all out, preceding to demonstrate how to neatly sew a button in place and then passing him the blouse to do the same whilst you tackle one of his shirts.  Namjoon might be smart - really smart, in fact - but he doesn’t seem to have the dexterity required for fiddly little tasks like buttons sewing.  He manages to jab himself with the needle every few seconds, or else he’s dropping it, or losing the end of the thread, and it starts getting progressively harder not to laugh the more and more he curses and groans.  

“It was much more fun pulling these off.” 

Originally posted by rapnamu

Jimin

You huff, glaring at your reflection in the mirror and dropping your hands to your sides, giving up once and for all.  It doesn’t matter how you try, you cannot get this french plait to work.  Jimin strolls into the room looking obscenely dapper in his tux, asking whether you’re ready yet and frowning when you just groan in reply, slumping forward to face-plant your dressing table.  You tell him what the problem is as he comes to perch on the edge of your seat, pressing a consoling kiss to your cheek, and then much to your surprise he offers to help, smiling that adorable smile of his.  He moves to stand behind you, taking hold of three segments of hair and watching the Youtube tutorial you’ve been using over your shoulder, concentrating hard.  It’s sickening how quickly he manages to figure it out, taking two or three tries at most before pinning the perfect one in place with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Next time just ask, Jagi.  I like helping make my baby look pretty.” 

Originally posted by baepsaeboyss

Taehyung

It was Tae’s idea for the two of you to dye your hair together in matching colours, and you’d thought his suggestion was really cute, if a little sickly sweet.  You dye his hair a plum purple as soon as you get home, taking extra care around his hairline and wiping away any smudges with a sponge as soon they happen, and after it’s all washed and dried you can’t help but feel proud of just how good it looks.  When it comes round to your turn you’re feeling more than just a little apprehensive, watching nervously as Tae spills some of the developer in the sink and manages to his finger through the end of one of the gloves.  He takes a very long time to apply all the dye, kneeling in front of you with his tongue poking out in concentration, but by the time he’s done he looks so pleased that you figure he must have done a good job.  Oh, how very wrong you are.  It’s all over your ears and your cheeks… you even have wayward splodges on your nose and chin.

“It’s ok Jagi, you look really cute in purple!” 

Originally posted by taetaeinbloom

Jungkook

Kookie had promised that you’d have a night in just the two of you - no other guys, no computer game, just quality couple time - but when he’d made that promise you’re fairly certain that this isn’t what he had in mind.  You’re sat next to each other on the sofa in your comfiest clothes and fluffiest socks, a chick-flick on the TV and popcorn sat between the two of you, sitting close enough that your legs are touching.  He got on board pretty quick with that, you have to admit, but convincing him to indulge in a facial with you took a little bit longer.  Still, it was worth all the bribery you had to do in order to see him struggling to shove popcorn in his mouth now, unable to part his lips too far without the green goop on his face pulling and cracking.  He throws the popcorn back into the bowl with a huff, unable to even frown to convey his annoyance.  

“When can I take this off, babe?  I’m starving over here.” 

Originally posted by jkguks

Trick or Treat

Summary: A little fluffy Halloween one-shot

Characters/Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None, pure fluff

A/N: Happy Halloween 🎃

Masterlist

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

“Doll, are you almost ready? Clint and Laura are bringing their kids any minute,” Bucky called out toward the empty hallway. 

You sighed and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles of your pajama shirt as you walked out of the bedroom to meet Bucky. Just as you were about to reach him, the insistent knock at the door forced Bucky’s attention away to open the door for Clint, Laura and the kids. 

“Thanks again guys,” said Laura, carrying a slumbering Nathaniel on her chest while Clint juggled the other two weary mini-Bartons on his own chest. 

“They look all tuckered out,” you giggled. “Trick or treating went well I take it?” 

Bucky led Clint and the kids to the spare bedroom of his and yours wing of the Avengers’ Tower while Laura handed Nathaniel off to you. Your face lit up at the gurgling and slumbering infant in your arms as you whispered emphatic hellos to him. Without realizing, you slowly swayed Nathaniel in your arms until you felt a self-satisfied gaze fixed on you. 

“What?” you snorted.

“You’re enjoying that a little too much,” Laura smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”

“Well that’d just be sad Laura, he’s your own son. They’re called babies.”

“I meant the smile, dork,” Laura scoffed.

“I smile.”

“Not like that you haven’t. So you and Bucky ever talk about it?”

Just as you were about to answer, the guys came back in. Saved in the nick of time, you thought. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, a warm grin spreading across his lips as he leaned further down to look at Nathaniel while you had done your damnedest to ignore the incredibly smug smile on Laura’s face. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Clint and Laura share a look that you wished you could just wipe off of them and get them going. 

“Enjoy date night guys. We’ll let you know if anything happens,” you murmured. 


Settling your weight as you dipped onto the couch, you leaned against Bucky’s chest while his legs cradled you in. Draping a fleece shawl over your joined bodies, the both of you settled in to watch Hocus Pocus, mindful to keep the volume low in case of the kids. 

“Want one?” Bucky asked, holding up a bite sized serving of your favorite candy.

“Where’d you get that?” you smiled, gladly extending your hand to take the proffered treat before Bucky pulled it away. 

“That’s not how this works doll. Not on Halloween…” he teased.

“Bucky,” you whined playfully, his name coming out like a tired laugh. 

“You gotta say it babe. Come on, please?”

Taking a deep breath, you craned your head upward to meet his lips. “You’re lucky I love you so much Barnes. Fine,” you said, kissing him before pulling away. “Trick or treat,” you grunted. Bucky laughed, relinquishing your treat. “So where’d you get it?” you asked, your mouth already full as you chewed away. 

“Kids’ buckets were full of them doll. They won’t notice one missing….”

Letting out an exaggerated gasp, you sat up to face him, feigning indignation. “James Buchanan Barnes!” you chided playfully, pretending to be scandalized. “You are literally stealing candy from babies. Well, now I don’t want to give you your treat.”

Bucky leaned forward until you were pushed back against the opposite arm rest, his hands already making a beeline for the sides of your belly. “I could always make you, doll,” he teased. 

“No,” you replied, repeating his earlier mocks. “That’s not how this works Sarge. Not on Halloween.” 

“Trick or treat,” Bucky laughed, his smile almost blinding in its intensity. 

Gently pushing him away so you could sit upright, you readjusted yourself on the couch until your legs were crisscross. Reaching for the pocket of your shorts, your hand slid in to reach for Bucky’s treat. At first Bucky’s brow had furrowed at your own perception of a treat until your hand uncovered what it’d been hiding. A long and white strip made its way into his open palm, a small screen revealing two little lines. Time stopped as your breath caught in your throat, your chest utterly still while you waited, gauging any kind of reaction from Bucky. Guy could make one hell of a living with that poker face, you thought. 

“Trick?” Bucky whispered. 

Slowly, you shook your head from side to side. “Treat,” you shyly grinned, your emotions bubbling to the surface as tears brimmed in your eyes. “I hope,” you murmured. 

This had been taking too long. He wasn’t saying anything. Just as you began to look down, refusing to let anyone bear witness to your disappointment, the room echoed with the sound of a joyous laugh. A boisterous laugh. You looked up again to see Bucky grinning from ear to ear, tears strolling down his cheeks as he lunged forward, caging your head between his hands to press his lips against yours in a heated kiss. 

“Definitely a treat, doll!” he said when he pulled away, only to lean in again, this time to pepper your face with soft kisses, from your forehead to your nose to your cheeks as his hand flew to your lower stomach. “It’s definitely a treat.” 

“Just don’t steal candy from this baby, Barnes,” you giggled. 

Pushing you forward to have you rest against the opposite arm rest once more, Bucky placed his head on your chest while his hand rested on your belly as you toyed with the strands of his hair. “No promises,” he replied, a soft chuckle escaping your lips when you felt his lips blow a gentle raspberry on your belly, followed by a tender kiss. 

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

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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?”

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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”

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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?”

“No.”

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.

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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

TWENTY-FIVE

“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.

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Request from @sugarandedge: Okay because I’m thirsty AF for Jack and just fell into hole reading about celebrity PR relationships. Any way I was wondering if you could write something about you and Jack not really liking each other at first and being put in a PR relationship because of the film and yeah you can take it from there and end it however you want.

A/N: This is probably too long but was just having so much fun writing it I’ve spent like all afternoon on it. Christ. Anyways, hope you like it. Also I’m so sorry about all the fucking cheese jokes.


“You’ve got to be joking,” you spluttered, incredulous.

You were sat opposite your publicist in a quiet coffee shop, having just been told that the powers-that-be on the film you had just finished wanted you to pretend to be in a relationship with your co-star, Jack Lowden.

“Look, you wouldn’t have to do much,” your publicist, Brenda, said timidly, “Just been seen out together a couple of times, you know, walking, holding hands, that kind of thing. Go to the premier together, maybe share a kiss…”

“A kiss? No way.” You sat back in your chair, arms folded across your chest.

It wasn’t kissing him that you were opposed to, having kissed him in the film – it would be just like acting – it was the whole idea that you hated. You and jack hadn’t exactly seen eye-to-eye during the filming process, constantly bickering. He was a smug little Scottish prick, all suave moves and cheesy lines. You’d roll your eyes and make some comment about how his big chat was likely compensating for something. You couldn’t stand the guy; his self-satisfied little smirk, those arrogantly deep dimples, his eyes so blue that frankly you found them ostentatious. Granted, he was good-looking, but he knew it and that got on your wick no end. You knew if you had to pretend to be in a relationship with him you would never hear the end of it from him. He would forever think he had the upper hand.

“I won’t do it,” you said finitely.

“Okay, so we can veto the kiss but-”

“No. I won’t do any of it. You know I can’t stand the guy,” you pleaded.

“I don’t understand it, Y/N. everyone else loves him. He’s funny and friendly and actually very sweet. And you two have such chemistry, anyone would think that your on-screen romance didn’t require much acting.”

You snorted; the thought of being genuinely attracted to him was so ridiculous to you. Well, you did find him attractive, but you know, he was an arse. You weren’t attracted to him. You weren’t.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Come on, Y/N, please do it. Just a couple of pictures for the press, you’ll only have to see him a few times.” Breda put her best puppy dog eyes on and you knew you were trapped.

“Do I have a choice?”

She shook her head guiltily.

You huffed, “Fine.”

“Well, this is fun,” Jack said sarcastically as you walked side by side down the street. You rolled your eyes, thankfully concealed behind sunglasses.

“Should we hold hands?” he mocked, faintly stroking your hand with his pinkie, your skin brushing together for just a moment. You had to refrain from snapping your hand away from him.

“Oh, don’ look so miserable, we’re supposed te be in love!” He was so breezy about the whole situation, seeming fine with being used like a pawn, it made you resent him a little more. You plastered a smile on your face as you went into a supermarket, acutely aware of cameras following you around. You tried to act natural and happy, laughing at Jack’s crappy jokes and occasionally touching his arm.

Acting. It’s just acting. Deep breaths, be professional.

“Hey hey,” Jack said excitedly as you entered the dairy aisle, “How do ye like a cheese joke? Which cheese do ye use to lure a bear out o’ its cave?”

You sighed, “Camembert. Everyone knows that one.”

“Okay, what did the cheese say when it looked in the mirror?”

“Halloumi. Very droll,” you said sarcastically.

“Ye think ye can do any better?” he grinned.

You hummed, not wanting to indulge him, before giving in. “Which cheese do you use to hide a horse?”

“Mascarpone. Yer gonnnae have to do better than that.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Okay, what is a cheese-lover’s favourite type of music?”

He shrugged, and you smirked, “R ‘n’ Brie”.

He laughed earnestly. “Okee, that’s pretty good. But who is a cheese-lover’s favourite composer?”

“Who?”

“Mozart-rella.”

You chuckled, “Did you just come up with that one?”

He shrugged in faux humility, “It just came te me.”

“Well, it was a bit of a stretch, but it was pretty gouda.”

A laugh burst out of him, “Oh wow, I dinnae see that one coming.”

“Sorry, that wasn’t very mature of me,” you said with a wink. Smiling, he shook his head, “I think ye win, I cannae compete with that.”

You inclined your head and sauntered into the next aisle. He jogged after you, still chuckling.

He came back to your flat with you, to complete the illusion, and helped you put the shopping away. You were sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, as Jack stood at the window, peeking out to see if the paparazzi had gone yet.

“Nah, there’s a couple still lingering.”

You took a sip, “I guess you can stick around for a bit then.”

He pursed his lips, suddenly uncomfortable, all his earlier jubilance dissolved.

“Might be here a while, it dinnae look like they’re plannin’ on leavin’ any time soon. One guy’s go’ a camping chair out.”

You scoffed dejectedly, “Best make yourself at home then.”

You suggested you put a film on after the uncomfortable silence became too palpable.

You sat on the same sofa, not touching but sharing a blanket. A couple of times you felt him looking at you, but you ignored it, along with the butterflies that seemed to be fluttering in your stomach under his gaze.

When the movie finished, Jack got up to check the window again. “Still there,” he sighed.

“How are you so okay with this?” you blurted out, the question all of a sudden too much to retain.

He looked at you, startled. You eyed the carpet, unable to meet his gaze.

“With what?”

“You know, this whole fake relationship thing,” you said, more to the carpet than him.

“I’m no’.”

You looked up at him in confusion, “But this morning, you seemed so… unfazed. It was almost like you were happy about it.”

He shook his head, a slight smile pulling sadly at his mouth. You stared for a moment, noting the shape of his lips for the first time, and the way his tongue darted out to wet them.

“Acting, love.”

You had felt yourself, somewhat against your will, warming to him, but with those two words your body went cold.

“Oh,” you breathed. You couldn’t understand why that seemed to hurt you so much. His eyes went wide with worry as he came to sit beside you again. “I didnae mean… It’s no’ you, I just,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’ like being used like this, any more than you do. I feel like I have no control over my life anymore. Don’ get me wrong, I love my job, but I hate all the politics that go with it.” He sat back, sighing gloomily. “A dinnae ken. I guess I just wanted te make the best of a bad situation.”

You shuffled a little closer to him.

You stood on your doorstep, seeing Jack out. He hugged you and whispered, “I’m gonnae give ye a peck on the cheek, if ye don’ mind. Fer the cameras, ye know.”

You nodded into his shoulder, signalling your understanding, and he pulled away to place a tender kiss on your cheek. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin rather too much. He said goodbye and disappeared down the street with a final wave. You took a deep breath and shuddered after closing the door. Tears involuntarily welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t understand why. You refused to let them fall.

— 

You opened the car door and were hit by the roar of screaming fans, at the premiere of your new film. You had been told to walk the carpet with Jack, even though he had arrived first, and act like a couple. However, you were under strict instructions to never explicitly say you were in a relationship, just coyly dodge questions and bat your eyelids. Jack appeared before you, in a dapper three-piece suit, looking more charming and handsome than you had ever seen him. He offered his hand to help you out of the car. You took it gratefully, and let him steady you. He stopped a moment, taking in the sight of you in an elegant black dress draped loosely over your shapely frame. He appeared to take a deep breath, before taking your arm in his and leading you down the carpet. He leaned down to your ear and whispered, “You look amazing, Y/N.”

The way his lips brushed against you made you shudder, and you felt a tug in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in the weeks since your staged shopping trip, and you’d tried to forget how vulnerable he had made you feel.

“You don’t have to keep up the façade when only I can hear what you’re saying,” you retorted, half joking but half bitter at these new reactions to this man that you had thought you didn’t like.

‘Maybe I’m going method,” he smirked. “Or maybe I just wanted to tell you what I was thinking.”

You felt your face get hot, and you didn’t know whether to smile or frown.

The whole event passed in a whirlwind of questions, mostly about your alleged relationship with Jack. Usually calm and composed, you felt flustered, distracted, so Jack did most of the talking. You couldn’t stop yourself from gazing at the way his jaw moved when he spoke, how his dimples played hide and seek. You were mesmerised by him.

“There have been some rumours that this isn’t a genuine relationship, just staged for publicity, given that you’ve only been seen together the once.” One interviewer said, rather forwardly. She showed you a picture of the two of you embracing in your doorway, capturing that moment when he told you he was going to kiss your cheek. The photo betrayed you, revealing your glossy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“But it’s hard to argue with this picture, right? I know you’re actors but this looks pretty real to me.” You tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. You swallowed, but Jack saved you before you could embarrass yourself further.

“We’ve both been really busy with work just lately, ye know, so it’s difficult.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow, “Anything to say about this particular image?”

Jack laughed nonchalantly, “No, no. It was just nice to see each other. We really fostered a friendship durin’ the shoot so it was nice to have a good catch up.” What a load of bullshit.

You smiled in agreement, itching to move on.


You posed together for photos, smiling professionally. You stiffened when Jack put his arm around you, and your face fell when one photographer called out for him to kiss you.

Jack turned his face to the screen behind you and muttered, “Are ye alrigh’, love?”

You nodded, your breath a little shaky and not trusting your voice to hold out.

“Look, I know ye hate this, pretending to be with me, but it’ll be over soon.” His eyes met yours for a second and you felt yourself melting into him, “Can you smile just a little?”. The question was so gentle, so concerned, and tinged with sadness.

Your voice was fragile and hushed, but the words sailed across the space between you.  

“It’s not the ‘being with you’ that I don’t like. It’s pretending.”

For an excruciatingly long moment he was silent. The world fell away and all you could see was him; all you could hear was your drumming heartbeat. You searched his eyes for a sign, a hint, of his reaction, to no avail. Until his eyes skipped to your lips, so briefly you might have imagined it. You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, causing you to bite your bottom lip. Your chest heaved in anticipation and apprehension, as a cacophony of thoughts clamoured around in your head, infecting your chest, your hands, your stomach. You felt your skin tingle as Jack traced his fingers down your bare arm, before moving his other hand up to the vulnerable skin of your neck. He brushed the pad of his thumb along your jaw and held you there for a moment. You held your breath as he leant down and touched his lips to yours, the contact so light it could have been raindrops.

“I want ye to be mine,” he whispered, eyes still closed and forehead resting against yours. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You allowed the supressed smile to eclipse your face and muttered, brushing your nose against his, “Then I’m yours.”

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?”

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Suspended in Motion by Pameluke | @janoda

Chapters: 1/1 (1584 words)

Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Characters: Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Horny Alec Lightwood, High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane, Magnus Bane’s Suspenders, Alec Loves Magnus’ Clothing, Downworlder Dad Magnus Bane, Warlock Mentor Magnus Bane, Making Out, Post-Season/Series 02

Summary:

But that would have to wait until Magnus finished his call, so Alec settled down against the back of the couch and watched his boyfriend move across the loft. He liked this side of Magnus. Dressed to the nines still from their date, talking about goblin spit and sheep guts, while sipping expensive wine.

Or:

Magnus has to interrupt a date to help a young Warlock, and Alec distracts himself with Magnus’ everything.


Read on AO3


“I’m just walking in, let me see if I can dig up my copy,” Magnus said into his phone. It had been buzzing with texts for almost their entire walk from the restaurant, so when it rang with their home in sight, Magnus had taken the call apologetically.

“It’s Mariken,” he said to Alec.

“She okay?” Alec asked, holding the door to the lobby open for Magnus. Mariken was one of the young warlocks Magnus mentored. She’d come into her powers at sixteen and had promptly run away from her family. She’d been homeless for almost two years before Magnus took her under his wings. Alec would never mind one of Magnus’ protégées interrupting their date. But he liked Mariken–she was nice, if a little shy–and he wanted her to be okay.

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Fanfic: That’s The Way It’s Gonna Be, Little Darling

@gladnisweek

Day 5: Marriage

Final Fantasy XV
Gladnis | Gladiolus Amicitia x Ignis Scientia
SFW
1,794 words

I’ve decided to trial something new. If you’d prefer to read and comment along with a GDocs version of this fic, you can do so here.

Other Days

The, uh, ‘special guest’ in this fic is entirely and lovingly stolen from @losebetter who is gr9 and puts up with a lot of shit from me lmao

“Is he gonna stop soon?”

Sighing in affectionate exasperation, Ignis just handed Gladio another tissue without needing to be asked. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Prompto’s laugh earned him a glare even through Gladio’s red, puffy eyes, but there wasn’t much Gladio could do beyond that when he was trying to avoid making too much of a scene.

He wasn’t going to ruin his little sister’s wedding.

“Fuck off, Prompto,” he said anyway, his voice thick. That just made Prompto laugh harder, but he slapped a companionable hand on Gladio’s back.

“Blow your nose, dude, because you’re due up there in a minute.”

“Shit,” Gladio muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “How do I look?”

“Like you’ve been crying for an hour,” a new voice said, and Gladio just scrubbed harder at his face as Cor stopped in front of him. “Get your ass out of my seat.”

“I can kick your ass, old man. Don’t test me,” Gladio grumbled good-naturedly, knocking his shoulder against Cor’s as he stood up. Accepting the packet of tissues that Ignis held out to him, Gladio bent down to kiss his partner’s cheek before shoving the pack into the pocket of his suit pants.

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Make A Move - Marco Asensio


Nervous Marco, because why not? :D

Originally posted by pichabros

Ouch!

“Well if you stopped moving so much, it wouldn’t hurt!”

Nadine huffed out a breath, trying to move the strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. He was always such a drama queen.

“Hey! I am no-ouch!” Rolling onto his side, Isco shot her a criticising look. “Okay, I’m done, no more!”

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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.

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… ”

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! 

Follow The Angels

TITLE: Follow The Angels

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2

AUTHOR: MaliceManaged

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

RATING: M

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.

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