sorry i can't do anything but stare at this all day

Kitten’s Got His Tongue | M | 01

Yoongi & Jimin | BTS | 5.5k Words | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05.

Yoongi orders Jimin and you from a hybrid companion service, but when he receives the two of you, he has no idea what to actually do with you.

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anonymous asked:

Could you do a Jeff Atkins imagine of being Clay's twin sister and a good player on the girls soccer team and like Monty and Bryce keep harassing you because you're good looking but you can't stand them because they're jerks and Jeff comes to you're rescue when they get aggressive because he considers Clay and you friends and most of all he likes you (and you obviously like him back)??

title: i am lying in wait

word count: 1143

note: it took me writing this fic to realize how much i actually love jeff atkins he’s a cinnamon roll can i just like……. save him……….


Most of the time, attention had never bothered you. In fact, you were used to having all eyes on you. Being one of the best players on the Liberty High girls’ soccer team had proven time and time again that having people notice you all the time just came with the skill. You could, however, discern which attention was unwanted.

High school boys, for the most part, were really fucking stupid. You’d come to this conclusion on your third day of freshman year when Bryce Walker and Justin Foley had come into school smelling of weed and obviously very high. You made a mental note to never get involved with a boy until you were out of high school and into the world of college; you changed your mind when your twin brother, Clay, introduced you to Jeff Atkins, a boy in your grade whom Clay had met in his World History class.

Three years of flirting with one another had led nowhere. It was obvious that you liked Jeff and he liked you back, but it never happened. You were too shy to say anything to him about it and he wasn’t sure if he could bring it up on his own, so there you were, stuck in an endless flirtationship.

Soccer practice was always during the same time basketball practice was, but the basketball players were always done and out before the soccer kids were. You were running defense drills when the boys showed up to sit in the bleachers that lined the field; Bryce and Montgomery were there, as usual, with those shit-eating grins ever ingrained on to their face.

“Looking good, [Name],” Bryce shouted after you.

“Hell yeah, babe! Those shorts are extra short today,” Monty added.

If your face hadn’t already been burning from the effort you were putting into today’s practice, you’d be flushed from embarrassment. Thankfully, your coach came to your rescue the first time, yelling at them to not distract her players. It kept them from making remarks for a while until she left to get some more soccer balls from the gym to practice passing.

As the remarks went on, they grew more and more aggressive. It was obvious these guys were creeps, they always had been, but it made you feel like shit when they objectified you like that. You had to focus extra hard on passing to your partner to block out the comments. Nevertheless, they persisted.

Jeff was just leaving the library, his backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder as he made his way to the soccer field. He always stayed for your practices so he could drive you home and talk with you. Tutoring with Clay was getting done just as the coach was clearing the field, telling the girls to rest up for the game that weekend. He could have sworn he’d be able to hear those sickening catcalls from two of the biggest jerks on campus from three miles away.

As the bleachers came into view, he could see you seated on the very edge of the bottom row, your head down and your eyes focused on switching into a more comfortable pair of shoes instead of your cleats. Bryce and Monty had moved to sit in the two seats above you, and it was clear you were as uncomfortable as could be. With no signs of the two stopping, Jeff approached.

“Come on, [Name], we just think you’re really sexy,” Bryce was throwing down endless nicknames that made you feel worse by the second.

“Hey, Jensen!” Jeff called, smiling brightly in your direction; he could clearly see how relieved you were when he showed up. He grew closer and you stood up, focusing your attention on him instead of the two assholes behind you in the bleachers. The baseball player wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder as he glared up at them. “These guys giving you trouble?”

“Just a little,” you said, shrinking against his side.

“Aw, come on, babe. We were just complimenting you,” Monty supplied, a sickening smirk on his face, one that mirrored the one on Bryce.

You wanted to fold in on yourself, melt into a puddle right there on the sidelines, do anything that would get you away from the two basketball players who made your life a living hell when they were around. What they said was gross, something that really shouldn’t ever be said, yet here they were, clearly making you uncomfortable.

“Listen, de la Cruz. She’s not your babe. I suggest you stop treating her like she’s some piece of meat you can have. She’s clearly uncomfortable with what you’re saying to her and it needs to stop. Learn how to treat a girl and maybe you’ll finally get one,” Jeff retorted quickly, his free hand clenching into a fist.

He didn’t even wait for them to respond; they looked dumbfounded. As they stared, Jeff grabbed your duffel bag, slung it over his other shoulder and coaxed you to his car, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Sorry if what I said back there seemed possessive or something like that,” he apologized as he tossed your bag in the back seat and opened the passenger door for you. “I just know that they’ve been harassing you for a while now and I was getting really mad about it.”

“Thanks. I didn’t have the courage to tell them to stop and even if I did, I don’t think they would have taken no for an answer.”

“It’s no problem.”

The car was silent as Jeff pulled out of the student parking lot. You turned to look at him and rested your hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Seriously. That was really nice of you to do for me.”

He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could see the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips as you spoke your second thanks. When your hand pulled away from his shoulder and you looked back to the road in front of you, his right hand reached overs to grab yours.

“It’s not right that he was calling you babe and all that. Those are reserved for, like, boyfriends.”

You raised an eyebrow and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “Really? Are you trying to tell me something, Jeff?”

The blush creeped adorably fast onto his cheeks and you giggled quietly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Am I?”

“You know, if you wanna call me nicknames like that, I’m okay with it.”

The roses bloomed an even deeper shade of red, adorning his cheeks with an adorable flush that made him look heavenly in the golden sunshine.

“Alright.”

Silence.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You think if we go to Rosie’s right now, we could consider it a first date?”

“Gonna ask me out, Atkins?”

“Maybe.”

“Finally.”

anonymous asked:

hello gin!!! your newest update for 'price of a soul' is amazing! can i ask you to talk about all this symbolism in the comic (and also why do you love to hurt us so much with it)

THIS QUESTION MAKES ME SO HAPPY  I’M SCREAMING THANK YOU FOR YOUR INTEREST ANON (actually thank you everyone for your kind asks about TPOAS… THEY ARE THE FIRE IN MY VEINS THANK YOU)

I think the most important thing I wanted to work on this comic is how it is told from Tamashi’s eyes. That’s how I decided to build the characters through the story, for example, what Tamashi sees most is Allen’s face, honest, straightforward, kind, sweet, smiling, always open and welcoming: 

Whereas he doesn’t see Kanda’s face, Kanda is always turned to him. And when he does, it’s from an low angle:

I had fun thinking it would be important that we, as Tamashi, know of Kanda what he does: Kanda is the father he doesn’t know anything of. Intimidating, scary, tall, unreachable, always with his back turned on him. (With his back turned to him, but I guess you wouldn’t offer your back to an enemy). I aim to, gradually, expose Kanda’s features as Tamashi grows confident, making him look more human and less of a jerk than what he does now (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

Also have you noticed how everyone bends forward to talk to Tamashi? Or squats down to be at his level? So Tamashi can stare directly at them. It’s a very simple gesture but it’s one that says I’m reducing my world to your perspective because you are as important, which Kanda never does.

The first time I read DGM i had to go through the Alma arc three times to made sure I fully understood Kanda (I keep thinking there are hints of his personality I keep missing, as I do with Allen… DGM is such an amazing artwork) so when I thought of him for this story I wanted to be very careful building the conceptualism around a character that has never forgiven himself and doesn’t want redemption. Can you imagine, you spend your life trying to fulfill a promise of love and then you find out -because you slipped once, only once, you are as human as the rest even if it might not seem so-, that you have a kid you never intended on having, even less with someone you’ll never love maybe not even remember, who kinda looks like Alma when they were kids, who is called Tamashi, who, surprise, is there to bite him in his ass. Tamashi is the perspective of a future Kanda never allowed himself to have and now he’s forced to deal with it (ノ≧∀≦)ノ Good thing Allen is here to be the bridge between present Kanda and past Kanda, Allen you angel  (//▽//)ゞ So, basically, what we see of Kanda is an unforgiving Kanda, intimidating, pretending to not mind when he so clearly does (in the last update with Tamashi sleeping outside of Kanda’s room he spends there looking at the boy how long? Five minutes? Ten? He didn’t awoke Tamashi either, just lets him be. He’s trying to make his way out of this without a fuss but OH YOU WON’T BE SO LUCKY KANDA The denial Is Strong). 

Oh! Also I was very careful with colors and including some… … … … little details (୨୧ ❛ᴗ❛)✧ 

Both panels with the flowers are very important…! they are different types of flowers in different palettes… Allen’s one are somewhat fresh and rainy, so springy, whereas Kanda’s seem to be floating on an abandoned place… Pretty, but isolated (•̀௰•́ ) This is funny because oH WELL SPOILER I GUESS / CRASHES THROUGH THE WINDOW AND FLIES INTO THE SUN

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK REALLY!! 

anonymous asked:

Hi! I know you're a busy toaster so this is to be chewed over at your leisure, obviously, but would you ever consider doing anything with if the rest of the paladins found out that Shiro tried to get Allura and Coran to agree to kill him in With Every Broken Bone? Because I can't see any single one of them taking that shit well -at all-. (Sorry if you've been asked this/have done this before and I missed it! Disregard this, then.)

This has not been asked, so enjoy!!


Shiro rested his cheek on his palm, watching the scanner run over his Galra arm with detached, vague interest.

This, at least, didn’t bother him.  No one was rooting through his arm or pulling out any kind of equipment for messing with the mechanics.  At least, not yet.

On screen, a model of his arm started to appear, shifting with the slight movements of Shiro’s fingers.  Real time, it seemed.  Shiro started to move his fingers, making a fist and then counting up, just to watch the wireframe version on the monitor match it half a second later.

Pidge’s hand came down and rapped him on the knuckles, not hard enough to hurt but certainly enough to startle.  The wire model version jolted and hazed, then steadied.

“Quit that,” Pidge told him, pointing a screwdriver at him threateningly.  “You’re messing with my data.”

Biting back a smile, Shiro straightened professionally.  “I apologize,” he intoned, just shy of being full on dramatic.

On his other side, Hunk chuckled.  “You should be scared, not sorry.  Getting between a Pidge and her data?  You’ll be bulldozed.”

“I can be both,” Shiro replied, shrugging.  “At the risk of causing more trouble, can I ask how long this is going to take?”

“No,” Pidge shot back, turning back to her screen.

(Read More Below)

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anonymous asked:

Could you do a James x reader request with 39 40 and 12 it's okay if you can't put all of them in but can 40 be the main one please and thank you and CONGRATS ON 1K you deserve it more than anything!!!!!

Thank you so much!!  💕💕

James Potter x Reader
12. “Are you flirting with me?”
39. “Like what you see?” 
40. “Sorry I’m late, I had some stuff I had to do.” - “By “stuff”, she means me.”
Warnings: Smut

Originally posted by twinkpaul

It was that kind of morning when you wished you could just sleep all day, or at least stay in bed for another hour or two. Getting up, you almost fell off while you crawled out, nearly broke your neck in the bathroom, chocked on your toothpaste – you felt it won’t be your day. Packing into your bag grudgingly, you couldn’t find the potions textbook, and after another ten minutes of searching in the depth of your trunk, you remembered James borrowed it a few days ago. After a loud, deep sigh, you left the room and dragged yourself up to the boys’ dormitory. The Marauder’s room was nearly empty; Sirius just exit when you appeared in front of the door. – “James?”

He raised an eyebrow, seeing your tired face and hearing your aren’t so friendly voice. “Good morning to you too. He’s still showering.”

You walked in and you knocked loudly on the bathroom’s door. “James! I need my potions book.”

After a few seconds of silence, you heard his muffled voice through the flowing water. “Just a moment.”

But minutes passed, and he was still nowhere. “For Merlin’s beard, what the hell are you doing for so long?” – you whined, leaning against the wall.

“Patience, love, I’m almost done.” – he said, and the water stopped. You could hear the smile behind his words. “Unless you want to see me naked… then I can just go out right away.”

Silently walking towards his bed with an eye roll, he said nothing, but you heard his voice again. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

With a small giggle, you plopped down on the edge of the bed; he know you so well. Soon the door opened and he stepped in, walking towards you with a towel around his waist, and you couldn’t help yourself but staring. His body was so much more nicer than you though, lightly but perfectly toned – probably from the constant quidditch practices. His hair was untidier than usual, but he messed it up when he was your flushed cheeks. “Like what you see?” – he asked with that mischievous smile of his.

Clearing your throat, you stood up, taking a few step backwards. “Yeah, sure.” – you said sarcastically, in the attempt to hide how nervous (and turned on) you were. – “Now, my book, please?”

He gave you a last, nasty look before turned to his trunk and picked up the book, then slowly walked to back to you, too close, until your faces almost touched, reaching out his hand; when you angrily snatched the book out from his hand. “Stop doing this.”

“Doing what, love?” – he grinned; his voice low and raspy.

“Trying to seduce me with your perfect body.”

His smile grew on his face even more. “Are you flirting with me?”

“In your dreams, Potter.” – you muttered, though you were still inches from each other, after a sudden movement your hands were around his neck instead of the book what somehow fell off on the floor with a big thud that none of you noticed. You pulled him closer, his lips were on yours roughly, his tongue gently caressing yours; hands sliding down on your back.

Running a hand through on his chest, until it was on the edge of the towel that you easily took off with an almost innocent movement, making him smirking onto the kiss. You looked down on his body, which made your cheeks blushed again. “I think you’re little overdressed.”

He started to unbuttoning your shirt while your soft palms were working on his length, making him taking in sharp breaths, and by the time when the shirt was off, he immediately started to placing rough kisses on your neck, collarbone, all over your breasts while you unclasped your bra – and it was his turn to blushing, just lightly. You took off your skirt and tossed it on to the other clothes on the floor. He opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat, so he just placed an arm around your waist and tugged two fingers into your knickers, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together tightly. James’ hands were all over you, touching and gripping every inch of your body he could reach, open mouthed kisses covered your skin before he pushed you down on the bed, hovering over you and pulling off your underwear almost impatiently. His fingers found your folds quickly, causing him to smiling smugly about how wet you were already. He rubbed gentle circles around your clit, but picked up his pace as you started to whimpering beneath him, and soon he pushed two fingers inside you, pumping in and out, which made you gripping the sheets, then grabbing his hair; you started to losing your mind slowly.

“James…” – you sighed, but he just kept moving his fingers, his lips attached to your neck.

“James, please.” – you repeated, and he raised his head up, looking into your eyes. – “I want you inside me.”

His hazel eyes darkened, looking deep into yours as he pressed his forehead to yours, asked if you’re sure, whispering, and you nodded fast before he gently started to push himself inside you, with a loud groan escaped his mouth as he filled you. He was slow, but you were so tensed up every movement he did sent you into the heaven. Tugging at his hair, you were gripping it harder, bucking your hips up before wrapped your legs around him, trying to push him deeper and deeper, and he fastened, burying his face into your neck. “You feel so good.” – he praised, causing you to let out a muffled moan, but still trying to keep your voice down. “Don’t hold it back.” – he whispered, but it wasn’t necessary, because soon you couldn’t, even if you wanted to. After a few hard and fast thrust your body shook and weakened beneath him; you were digging your nails into his skin and tightened your legs around him as you reached your high with the last moans of his name; squeezing him inside you, which made him came right after you.

Panting hard, he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.


Ten minutes later you were running through the corridors, down on the staircases. He was following you, an enormous, childish grin on him, still trying to knot his tie. You slowed down in the dungeon and stopped in front of the Potions classroom, and as he was still fiddling with his tie, you made it for him. “I don’t like this look on your face, Potter.” – you mumbled, glancing back at him.

He pouted, then smirked; wiping a strand of hair out from your eyes. “I liked it better when you called me on my first name.” – he said, leaning closer, whispering into your ear. – “Oh, James, yes, please…”

“Shut up.” you hit him in the shoulder, narrowing your eyes, but had to bite your lower lip to suppress a smile. Knocking in the door, you walked into the classroom, where the professor was already in the middle of making a potion.

“Professor Slughorn! I’m sorry I’m late, I had some stuff I had to do.”

He let out a half smile, but waved his hand. “No worries, we just started! Sit down!”

So you did, joining to the table that you shared with your friends. They threw suspicious glances at you before James muttered, “By “stuff”, she means me.”

Peter chocked back a giggle and Remus let out a smile, while Sirius gave a high five to James, causing you to throw a deadly look at both of them.

“Sorry.” – James whispered to you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

anonymous asked:

Nalu. "Is that a kitten in your sweater?! Can i pet it?"

Would you believe,that i actually forgot i’d open requests last week????

Like jeez what’s wrong with me?? Maybe it’s the stress, maybe it’s school, heck if I know but hey! Here’s something else!

Thank you for the request kind anon( and sorry for the wait!) So please enjoy!



Man, bus experiences were weird. It was like stepping onto a bus flung you to another realm where the impossible and improbable were commonplace.

Lucy met her best friend on a bus, when the driver slammed the brakes without warning and Levy’s book went flying in her face. There was a guy who came on fully-clothed and left in just his pants and undershirt.

Then there was the yodelling guy, the coyote asleep on the seat next to her, the lady dressed as Santa Claus in the middle of summer.

She could go on and on about the weird stuff she’d seen on a daily basis but at least today it was something cute.

A soft ‘mrrw’ bubbled up from the guy next to her, pulling Lucy out of her novel to cast a side glance at him as he fiddled with his phone.

He was quite……pink. From his dyed hair to his near purple sweater to the headphones that leaked an unfamiliar rhythm and the twisting tendrils of a tattoo that wrapped his throat.

He was very, very pink but Lucy had to admit, it suited him.

Mr.Pink shuffled in his seat, tugging at his sweater and another ‘mrrw’ erupted from him. Specifically from the sweater.

Lucy’s eyes dropped low-not inappropriate low, but low enough- to spy an odd lump in the sweater, that moved.

It wriggled unnaturally and well, anyone would stare if they saw some guy’s clothes dancing on its own, wouldn’t they? So it was only fair that Lucy’s eyes stayed glued on that spot that wasn’t inappropriately low.

‘mrrw mrrw mrrw’ ‘mrrw mrrw mrrw’ ‘mrrw mrrw meow’

Mr. Pink sighed, more annoyed than anything else and dove his hand under the sweater, rummaging around a bit and with a little grunt, casually pulled out a kitten that was a odd bluey-gray. He tucked the little thing in the crook of his arm and absently scratched its ears, eyes drifting back to the phone with a smile.

“You just couldn’t keep quiet could you lil’ guy?” “Meow.”

Oh God. He has a cat.

Even better, he has a kitten. All the good cattiness compacted in a small and ridiculously cute package.

She had to pet it, now that she’d seen the little fluffball Lucy’s day would not be complete without touching it.

So of course she had to prod his shoulder. Maybe a little bit too hard but hey, his eyes shot off the phone in an instant, confusion very clear on his face as he reached to pull off the headphones.

Four piercings on his ear greeted her; two hoops, a simple bar and -surprise,surprise- a pink stud to top them all off.

“Yes?” He asked, brow quirked.

“You have a cat.” Lucy stated plainly. “Yup.”

“And it was in your sweater.” “Uh-huh…..?”

“Can, can I pet it?”

Rather boldly she outstretched her fingers towards his travel sized companion who sniffed them curiously, then meowing back at its owner as though approving her request.

Pinkie chuckled, scooping up his pet and gently plopping it in Lucy’s lap with a goofy smile. Lucy wished she could describe the sound she made.

“Happy likes to chew fingers,” He warned as she scratched the kitten’s chin. Happy immediately bit down on her finger. “Too late.”

“Happy? Is it because he’s always happy?” Pinkie shrugged’ “Nah. He’s kind of an ass, but he makes me happy so, yeah.”

“That’s mean!” She laughed. “He’s just a lil’ baby! Aren’t you?”  Said lil’ baby was held aloft, with various kissy faces and coos directed at him.

“He’s chewed through 3 different pairs of shoes with those razors in his mouth and almost got himself killed climbing out on the sill.”

“He’s adventurous.” “He’s crazy.”

Lucy smirked, lowering Happy back to her lap with a gleam in her eye and a smirk on her lips. “Might I daresay, a bit like his owner?”

If he was intrigued by her before her statement must’ve doubled such feelings. He swiveled in his seat to face her properly, his smirk mirroring hers.

“And how am I crazy?” “No-one completely sane carries a cat in their sweater.” Lucy stated simply. Happy meowed in what she thought was agreement.

“You expect me to leave a baby home by himself? What kind of parent do you think I am?” He clutched his chest in mock outrage.

“A weird one who dresses in full pink.” She teased. “I hate to break it to you, uh……” “Natsu.”

“Natsu.” She said with a smile, quite liking how the name rolled off her tongue. “I’m Lucy and I really hate to break it to you but most people don’t usually deck themselves out in a one colour outfit.”

Natsu ran his fingers through his hair, unintentionally showing her its pale red roots. He closed his eyes in thought. “You raise some valid points there my new bus friend who’s pretty weird herself.”

“I-” “But!” One eye flew open to focus on her, twinkling with mischief. “Don’t you think cat fatherhood and pink overload works for me?”

“Sadly, yes.” Lucy grinned.

This guy was definitely friend material.

softersin  asked:

Can't send the symbol because tumblr Hates me with a passion but I'd love to see hair washing and any Star Wars pairing you choose! Especially if it's post-battle or something and it's aftercare related.

There’s blood in her hair. 

“Jyn,” he says, quiet in respect for the night, and Jyn makes a move like she’d be startled if she had the energy for it. 

“Sorry.” She’s quiet too. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I wasn’t asleep.” Cassian sits up. There’s blood across her face too, and on her clothes. She must have come right from the mission; she’s not the one who has to debrief her missions. A part of Cassian is glad that he’s not the one who has to be debriefing right now, so he can be here, right now, though the larger part still hates whenever she leaves without him. Maybe he could have stopped some of the blood on her right now, if he’d have been there. 

“It’s not mine,” she tries for a cocky smile, but it’s just exhausted. Cassian understands, all too well. “I’m fine.” 

“Good.” She does smile at that, because she knows how it says all the things they don’t dare say, not now. Not in the middle of a war. They don’t say it, and they don’t talk about how they sleep in the same bed and don’t sleep when the other’s away. Instead, Cassian gets to his feet, lets the blankets fall away from him. “You shouldn’t sleep like that.” 

“I’m tired.” 

“You’ll feel better clean.” He runs his hands over her shoulders, down her arms. It’ll get blood on his hands. It won’t be the first time, or the last. “Shower first.” 

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Sharing A Tent With Murphy

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader
Requested: no
Warnings: some mild cursing, and sexual references
A/N: I’ve had the idea for this bouncing around my head for awhile, and finally decided to put it down on paper. This is my first time writing about anything other than 5sos, so feedback would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading, and I hope you like it!
Word count: 1479

————————————————

“What do you mean I don’t have a tent anymore?” Murphy exclaims angrily at Bellamy.

You were helping Clarke and Octavia tend to the sick after Murphy had brought an infection back to camp. Your father had been a doctor on the ark, and you were following in his footsteps until you had been arrested. You were caught stealing medicine for a little girl, but you don’t regret it since she got to live because of your actions.

“We needed the extra supplies and since you were banished, we weren’t going to let them go to waste,” Bellamy explains to him using his ‘I’m the boss’ tone. Sighing, Murphy looks down at the ground and runs a hand through his dirty hair.

“Fine, but where am I going to sleep now?”

“You’ll have to share with someone.”

Murphy laughs grimly, “And who would that be?” He sneers. He knew no one would want to share with him, everyone despises him. Bellamy looks around the drop ship until his gaze lands on you; your eyes lock together. You know what is about to happen; you were credited with being the nicest delinquent around.

“Y/N,” Bellamy yells over to you, “come over here, I need to ask you something.”

You place the medical supplies you had been sorting down. Rising from your kneeling position you walk towards the pair. You look at Murphy, and take in his appearance: his clothes are torn, stained with dried blood, and dirt is caked onto his pale skin, a sharp contrast. Murphy’s wounds still haven’t been cleaned, you realize.

“What’s up?” You question Bellamy, raising one eyebrow.

“Murphy is going to be sleeping in your tent, with you, until further notice.”

“What? My tent barely has enough room for me, let alone both of us,” you protest crossing your arms over your chest and jutting your hip out.

“I guess you’ll have to make it work.” Bellamy walks off, leaving no room for discussion. Sighing, you turn towards Murphy, who had been watching the ordeal with a bored expression.

“Well, come on then.” You motion for him to follow you as you lead the way to your tent. As the two of you make your way towards your tent you can hear people whispering, all of which concern the boy that is trailing after you. Murphy is playing strong though, keeping his head up high and facial expression locked into a firm glare straight ahead. One of the comments catches your attention, it’s louder than the others, the person obviously didn’t care if anyone heard them.

The boy had said, “She better be careful, or next thing you know she’ll be murdered by that psychopath.” You whip your head around without even thinking.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Last I checked, Murphy was the one helping the sick, sure he got them infected, but they’re the ones who hanged and banished him. Where were you? Out hiding away and doing nothing to help the camp? Yeah, that’s what I thought. So shut your damn mouth and do something useful with your pathetic life.”

With that, you grab Murphy’s hand and hurriedly drag him away. Unzipping the flap, you go inside and quickly tidy up the few things you have. Turning, you see Murphy shifting on his feet, unsure of what to do. You nod your head towards the bed, silently telling him to sit down. He follows your noiseless command, sitting on the edge of your makeshift bed of old blankets and animal pelts. Finally, you take in his appearance again, his face is dirty, clothes torn. Decidedly, you stand up and make your way to the exit of the small enclosure. Murphy’s head shoots up, you hold out your hand in a stop motion, telling him to stay put.

You walk towards the small tent next to the drop ship that houses whatever medical supplies people had been able to scrounge up. Entering, you head straight for the table that holds bowls of moonshine, then bandages, and finally a bucket that had been collecting water outside of the door. Once you situate the items in your arms you make your way back to the place you’ve started calling your home. All eyes were on you. No one had ever seen you snap like that, you were generally a nice level headed person.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you told one group that was openly staring at you.

Slipping back into your tent you saw Murphy in the same position you left him in, staring intently at his hands. You place the bucket of water besides you as you kneel in front of him in between his knees. Gently you take his left hand in yours. After dunking a piece of cloth in the water you start to clean off his hand. Looking up at him once you shift to a moonshine soaked rag, you softly speak, “This is going to hurt.”

He met your eyes, only giving you a brief nod to acknowledge your words. As you dab at the wounds on his hand, an audible breath in and wince was the only reaction he let you see. You move from one hand to the other, repeating the process. When both hands were clean you stilled.

“Take off your shirt,” you demand in a firm tone.

“So, this is why you’re letting me stay in your tent, you’re trying to get into my pants. Y'know all you had to do was ask, right?” A smirk spread across his face.

“Trust me Murphy, if I wanted to, you’d be naked and begging by now.”

“Is that so?”

“You know it.”

“Then prove it.”

“No. You’re injured and I’m not really into the dirt and blood covered look. Now, take off your shirt.”

Giving you a, dare you say, playful glare he pulls his shirt over his head. You can’t contain the gasp that slips past your lips. His chest is covered in long, angry gashes. You put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down so he’s on his back looking up at you. Shifting your position, you now sit near his waist, you’ll have to lean over him to reach the top of his chest. You start cleaning him from his collar bones down to his hips, trying to ignore his tensing abs. Blushing you reach the top of his pants and glance up at him. You know the next thing out of your mouth is going to be incredibly embarrassing to ask.

“I-is there, uh, anything else, I, um, need to clean?” You awkwardly ask, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“No, but there is something you can suck,” he says, his signature smirk placing itself back onto his lips.

“Only in your dreams,” you retort after quickly composing yourself, and rolling your eyes. You grab his shirt from where it had been carelessly dumped on the ground. He takes it from your outstretched hand, then lets it fall back to the ground next to the bed. All you can do is give him an exasperated look.

“Sorry doll, I sleep shirtless and it’s time for some shut-eye,” he places his arms under his head, muscles flexing as he does so. You hadn’t even realized the sun had set while you had been intently cleaning Murphy up. You also hadn’t realized how tired you were, once your muscles had stopped their task they felt heavy and sore. It had become a familiar feeling at the end of the day after working long hours healing the impulsive delinquents.

“And what makes you think you’re getting the bed?” You place a hand on your hip, head tilting to the side.

“C'mon, I’m injured.” His lips form a mock pout, matching the sarcastic glint in his eyes.

Sighing you tell him, “Fine scoot over,” while climbing up from where you were leaning back on your legs by his legs. You situate yourself under the covers Murphy had been pulling out from underneath him.

“Just a warning, I’m a sleep cuddler.” You turn your body, facing away from the boy, onto your side.

“Trust me, I don’t have a problem having you closer,” you hear him whisper right before you drift off to sleep. Making you question if he had really said that.

You woke up the next morning with a warm body pressed against your back, and a hand resting on your boob. For a second you relish in the warmth the body provides, before realizing who it was holding you. Struggling to move away from the embrace, the hands around you tighten. Wiggling for awhile longer with no use, you slump against him, giving up on getting away. Lightly you feel the all-too-familiar smirk of John Murphy press against the back of your neck. That asshole was awake.

“Murphy, if you don’t get your hand off my boob, I’m going to castrate you,” the threat came out of your mouth in a low growl.

anonymous asked:

i don't know if this counts as a prompt request (if so feel free to ignore!) but do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct

this got away from me tbh

It starts out with one little innocent comment, as these things usually do. Amy honestly hadn’t meant anything by it - hadn’t even graced the words with a second thought as they left her mouth - because in her mind, it was all categorized as ‘insignificant.’ Stupid, really, would be the better word, but that’s neither here nor there at this point.

This point being 3 AM on Valentine’s day. This point also being her desk, the surface of which is currently buried beneath what appears to be a veritable hoarder’s nest - assuming that hoarder has a fixation on Hallmark’s most successful business venture.

There are five singing teddy bears and at least a dozen boxes of chocolates, six dozen plastic roses (and one dozen real roses in a vase balancing in the inch-wide gap between her desk and Jake’s), all manner of pink and red confetti and plastic hearts and three paper silhouettes of the patron saint himself. Even her chair fell victim: the fuzzy pink blanket is soft as it slips between her fingers.

“Jake,” she says, and his name comes out a bit choked. He’s standing a foot behind her, practically radiating with pride at his work (and it is his work, she knows this beyond a doubt - where the hell else would he have been for the last ninety minutes?). “What - what the hell.”

She hears him shuffle behind her, and then another teddy bear with white fur slides into her vision on her right. She leans away from it, eyeing the red heart sewn between the bear’s paws, before lifting her gaze to stare at his wide, delighted grin. “Did it all while you were interviewing Peters.”

“I - God.” Amy snatches the teddy bear out of his hands. “What happened to not doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” She snaps.

He looks only slightly put-out at her reaction. “I decided not to do nothing,” he says with a shrug. He’s maddeningly, furiously unrepentant. “Oh, c’mon, Amy! I couldn’t not do something after that Teddy comment.”

It’s suddenly very difficult to resist stamping her foot and growling in frustration. “For the last time,” she says, fists clenched around the teddy bear, “it doesn’t matter. The steakhouse wasn’t even that good, and he spent more time arguing with the waiters than actually talking to me. Literally nothing at all would be better than that night.”

“I know!” He gestures to her desk. “That’s why this should completely and totally blow your expectations out of the water! I wiped every bodega within a five-mile radius out, babe. I’m basically the king of Valentine’s Day.”

“Buying a bunch of cheap crap at midnight on Valentine’s Day does not make you the king.” She informs him loftily, which she thinks would normally make him feel bad, except she can’t stop running her fingers through the teddy bear’s fur and he’s definitely noticed the movement. “Ugh. Thank you, or whatever.”

“Sheesh, what is it with you and this holiday?”

“It’s stupid! It’s not even a real holiday! It’s all a conspiracy created by Hallmark to -”

“Hey, Ames? You - you’re allowed to be happy, y’know.”

Jake’s studiously avoiding her gaze now, too busy focusing on rearranging the confetti on her desk. She deflates all at once, suddenly feeling like a complete and total jackass. A complete and total jackass going for nearly twenty-four hours on only three hours of sleep, but a jackass nonetheless. “Jake,” she exhales, and his expression is guarded when he peers up at her through his lashes. “I am happy. I really am. This isn’t - it’s not about us. I just hate this holiday.”

“Not as much as Halloween.”

He’s smiling again, which is a good sign, so she releases a long sigh and nods, before dropping heavily down into her desk chair. “You’re right. Nothing will ever top Halloween. I’m sorry I - it’s just that, I’ve…I’ve never had a good Valentine’s Day.” He furrows his brow as he sits in her guest chair, leaned toward her with his elbows on his knees. “I’ve either been alone, or with the wrong guy, and - I don’t know. I just don’t like it.”

“That’s okay. I’ll like it enough for the both of us.” He reaches for her hand and she gives it to him willingly, smiling in spite of herself at the familiar contact. “We both have tomorrow off, and we don’t have to do anything - we can just hang out and watch TV in our PJ’s. Maybe we can go visit Gina in the hospital or something. It doesn’t matter - I just wanna hang out with you.”

His smile is genuine, but there’s a certain calculating edge to his gaze, so she narrows her eyes suspiciously. “What do you have planned right now?”

“I don’t have anything planned. Have you met me? I don’t plan.”

“I call BS, Peralta. Tell me.”

“Ugh, fine, I have dinner reservations. But I can call and cancel, it’s so not a big deal -”

“Jake,” she interrupts, and then she leans forward and gently squeezes his fingers until he meets her in the middle for a slow, chaste kiss. “Dinner sounds…nice.” She murmurs when he breaks away.

His grin is blinding has he jumps up, pulling her up to her feet, only broadening when she laughs. “It’s gonna be great, I promise. I promise I won’t even talk to the waiter.”

Jake starts toward the elevator, but Amy pulls him back sharply with the hand still clasped in his. “Uh, if you think I’m letting you leave my desk like this -” she gestures to the mess “- you clearly don’t know me at all.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“And it’s my desk!

“You’re lucky I love you, Santiago.”

Amy grins. “Believe me, I know.”

maniacani  asked:

//slides in, Uncle Kuro crashing Keith and Shiro's dates cus their reactions are amusing and they can never really tell him off cus they're nice and all, finally the kids (teens??) coming up with a plan to keep their uncle busy all day so their dads can have some alone time lol. Kuro can't really complain, he loves them all too much

[The Voltron Family] Kuro loved Shiro’s family with his everything so obviously he would always visit them as much as he could. He overheard that Shiro and Keith were going on a date, leaving the kids with him to babysit, but they were no longer babies! Hunk was 12, Lance was 11 and Pidge was 10. They were basically adults to Kuro, they didn’t need Uncle Kuro anymore to entertain them unlike when they were younger. So, he had to find other ways of entertainment. 

It was an accident the first time. The kids were at school and he was trying to buy something when he spotted Shiro and Keith eating lunch at a Japanese restaurant. Delighted to see them he approached them and said Hi. His little chat turned into one hour chat, and the husbands didn’t have the heart to tell Kuro that they were on a lunch date.

Second time was accidental but the third time was intentional. Kuro wondered when the married couple would actually tell him to stop crashing their dates. The kids overheard their Daddies talk about it in the kitchen that they need to be sneaky with their dates so Kuro wouldn’t disturb them again. The kids were determined to stop their Uncle Kuro’s game so they followed him on their Daddies’ fifth date. 

The kids were hiding behind a corner at the mall.

Hunk: Black is on the move. *whispers*
Lance: Hunk, why are you not doing the thing? We’ve talked about this! *exasperated*
Hunk: *groans* Black is on the move. Over. *glares at Lance*
Lance: Perfect. *grins* *nudges Pidge* How’s Red and White? Over.
Pidge: So far unaware of Black approaching. Over.
Lance: Okay. *turns to Hunk* Yellow, release the kraken. 
Hunk: *nods in determination* *approached Kuro*
Kuro: *surprised* Oh, hello there, sweetheart. *kisses Hunk*
Hunk: Hi, Uncle Kuro. *grins* Can you accompany me to—
Kuro: Can’t right now, baby pea. Uncle’s gotta do a thing. *moves forward to the restaurant*
Hunk: *goes back to the gang* I can’t believe he ignored me! 
Pidge: You’ll get over it. Plan B. Blue will now open the dam. Over.
Hunk: *scrunches nose in confusion* What does that mean?
Lance: *runs towards Kuro and fake cries*

They failed no matter what they did. Kuro was still able to go into the restaurant where Keith and Shiro were having their dinner date.

Kuro: *sparkly eyes* Oh! What do you know?! *fake gasp*
Keith: *turns to see Kuro* *eye widens* *panics*
Kuro: *smiles* *kisses Keith on the lips as a greeting*
Shiro: *stands up* That’s it! I’ve had enough. 
Kuro: *turns to Shiro* Dear brother, what do you mean?
Shiro: *sighs* You need to stop this.
Kuro: Stop what? *gasp* I was just—
Keith: *interrupts* We’re on a dinner date, Kuro. Shiro and I are on a romantic dinner date as husbands, so if you could—
Shiro: Can you please stop kissing my husband when we’re on a date?
Keith: *blinks repeatedly* That’s not really a problem—
Shiro: It is to me, especially if we’re on a date, Keith. *frowns* I’m right here. I’m your husband. You married me. Not him. *points at Kuro* And I’d rather not have your lips on his when we’re on a date. 
Keith: *expression softens* Takashi… 
Shiro: I’m sorry, I know it’s whatever since it’s normal, but I honestly just want to have your attention on me. I know I sound so whiny and demanding but I don’t care. 
Keith: *smiles fondly* *touches Shiro’s hand* No, no, it’s not. 
Shiro: But please just for tonight, can you not? *turns to Kuro*
Kuro: *smirks at them*
Shiro: *glares at Kuro* You did this on purpose.
Kuro: I’m not saying anything! *chuckles* Anyway, I better go now then. *leans down to give Keith a goodbye kiss*
Keith: *stares at Shiro fondly* *senses Kuro leaning down* *shoves Kuro’s face away from him without taking his eyes off Shiro*
Kuro: Wow. I got rejected. I’m hurt. *chuckles*
Keith: *doesn’t mind Kuro* *pulls Shiro in for a kiss* God. I am so endeared right now. Jealous Takashi is something else.
Kuro: *laughs at the scene in front of him* You guys better resume your date though and actually eat your food.
Shiro: *waves at him dismissively since his mouth is occupied*
Kuro: You better be thankful you’re in a booth. *shakes his head fondly* 

Kuro exited the restaurant and saw the kids running towards him. He took their hands in his and said “Your Daddies are gonna be busy for a while.”

anonymous asked:

Hello! Can I request and fanfic which happens in Seven's route Day 9 the big argument between Seven and MC at night (sorry as it is quite specific) what if MC acts fine as usual in chatroom but she start to act emotionless in front of Seven and only give short responses to questions from him. MC is still having feelings in Seven but she just can't help acting that way. (1/2)

707: The Cold Treatment [Part ONE]

Heys… Dead tired, so I’m not sure about the quality of my writing and if this even makes sense, but…

I still put in my all (all that I have right now) into this, like always!!

So I hope you won’t hate it…?

– R.I.

[Click Here for Part Two]

‘What does he mean it’s useless to like him? It’s not my fault that he’s such an adorable, lovable idiot… Dammit, I can’t stop thinking about him,’ you cry under your blankets, trying to stifle the sound. You hadn’t loved someone this much before, and it was heart-wrenchingly painful. Was loving a person so wrong?

You hugged the blanket tighter, wishing that you didn’t have to feel anything anymore. Love is painful. You tried so hard to understand Seven, to care for him, to smile at him… One moment he was considerate of you, and the next he’d hurting you with his lies. ..Or were they actually true?

Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe Seven was right. It was useless to love him. It was useless to love.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I can't get over how jongin looks at kyungsoo??? It's like he's the only person he looks at like that.

I know Nini looks at other too, BUT the way he looks at Soo is smth entirely different!! Soo could literally just be standing there doing nth, and Nini would still be staring at him. His eyes are a lot more intense and there’s this little glint in them ;_; and if you look up “heart eyes” in the dictionary you’d find a pick of Nini’s eyes when he’s casting loving looks at Soo T__________T

RECEIPTS –>

^we know nini.. we know

^he gotta stare at his hyung so hard that he looks behind everyone else xD

^that time nini flirted with soo like crazy and got told off xD aka “kicked puppy love stares”

^totally normal bro stares 

I have a tag for nini and his “heart eyes” here ->> (x)

But there’s A LOT MORE under the cut 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Supercat. Kara realises her feelings for Cat when Cat's beautiful ex girlfriend visits National City for a few days and she can't quite hide her jealousy

“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?” This isn’t the first time that Kara has had to face down someone determined to make it into Cat’s office, but something is different about the woman in front of her. There’s a confidence to her step, an unconscious ease that few carry with them when facing Cat Grant.

“I’m afraid I don’t, but Cat always said I’d be welcome to drop by,” the mystery woman says with a smile and wink, not bothering to hide a searching glance up and down Kara’s figure. “If I’d known she’d finally hired someone decent, I might have stopped by sooner.”

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the song remains the same

[So. I was taking a break from writing an essay and stumbled across a post from @neonlightwood with Jimon prompts here. My brain then decided I absolutely needed to write the first one. Enjoy?]

Okay, so maybe the day had started off a little weirdly.

Not that Raphael was a big talker, usually preferring to intimidate people by giving them the silent and stony treatment, but the conversation had been a lot quieter than usual. He hadn’t told Simon to shut up more than twice, for one, and he kept staring at him in a way that was starting to make him uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of how they had met, when he was still a mundane, taken captive by Camille. Like prey, his brain helpfully supplied, and thank you so much for that, brain.

Keep reading

Head Over Paws

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Marichat (Marinette Dupain-Cheng/ Chat Noir) & Adrienette (Adrien Agreste/ Marinette Dupain-Cheng)

Word Count: 1,793

Type: One shot

Cross-posted on AO3.


She wasn’t supposed to be here

She was supposed to be away from all of this cat-astrophe, safely perched on the rooftop of an abandoned, decrepit building where he had left her, stomping all over the place and cursing his name for being so overbearing.

But no, she had to be herself. So heroic and completely selfless, endearing traits that usually reduced his heart into a dysfunctional pumping mess (Wasn’t it already?), but right now he was seriously considering the choice of wedging yoga back into his already hectic schedule as her petite form emerged from the thick dust clouds, scaring the living hell out of him.

Keep reading

Secret Lives (Part 2)

Words: 2.6k

Summary: You and Steve become closer after you insist he stay with you at your motel instead of sleeping at the Gas-n-Sip.

Warnings: Smut (pretty vanilla, some dirty talk, unprotected sex,) some language, fluffy

A/N: Tag list is at the end, let me know if you’d like to be added.

—————

Your motel room was definitely not the Ritz, but it was clean, had decent water pressure, and a small kitchenette. To you, it was nothing fancy; to Steve, after all he had been through, it was more than he felt he deserved.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

if requests are still open can i request some comforting headcanons with todoroki, bakugou and midoriya for a fem s/o who has to deal with a bad home situation like her dad kinda yells at her a lot but she usually keeps it in but she can't take it anymore and needs to be comforted? (sorry this was kinda detailed i've been having a hard time at home recently and your blog usually comforts me so thank you and sorry if this was confusing or anything)

((hey bud, I’m sorry about your situation. I kinda know how you feel a little bit lol. if you ever need to talk to anyone about stuff, feel free to im me any time))

“You’ve been acting strange all day, [Name]. What’s wrong?”
You looked up from your phone, surprised to see a look of blatant, obvious concern on Todoroki’s face. You hadn’t been acting strange. Had you been acting strange? “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired.”
“Tired of?” Shit. Since when was Todoroki good at reading the mood? “Seriously, what’s the matter?… Is everything okay at home?”
Goddammit, he was onto you. You sighed, feeling your shoulders slump inward. “It’s, uh, it’s been a rough week, dear. Really loud around the house, you know?”
He sat down next to you, gently pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it? Or just sit here?”
“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a hero. I mean, if I get all worked up by my dad, how’m I gonna deal with actual villains? When I’m in physical danger instead of just getting yelled at, you know? Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Those are different situations, [Name]. It’s harder when it’s someone close to you, as opposed to some random person trying to kill you. It’s okay.”
Well, Todoroki always had a way with words. “Yeah, but if I’m this faint-hearted…”
“Faint-hearted? Who’s faint-hearted?” He jerked back to look at you, and his face barely fell short of minor offense. “I don’t see a faint-hearted person in the room. [Name], dealing with fathers is hard. Trust me, you can still become a hero with a shitty dad.”
You knew you looked a little pathetic, but how could you help it? “You think so?”
“Hey, I’m doing it, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I forgot about that, sorry.”
He must have tried to kiss your cheek, but missed and got you on the corner of your mouth instead. “I don’t mind that not being the first thing people remember about me. Are you feeling better?”
“…Yeah. Thanks, Todoroki. Love you.”
“Love you too.”


“Can we keep it down a little, Bakugou? You’re being a little too loud right now.”
“Huh?! I’m not being loud at all!”
You flinched. For such a sweet boyfriend, he sure did yell a lot. “I mean, a little… Actually a lot. Your voice is really loud right now and it’s kind of hurting my ears and could you stop please?”
He turned toward you, sharp eyes boring into your soul. “What’s your problem? You good?”
“Uh…”
“It’s your shithead of a dad, isn’t it? What’d he do now?” An immediate reaction. His fists were clenched, eyes narrowed. He was on the offensive. “I’ll get him. What did say to you?”
“Nothing! Nothing. Just… I should be studying more, probably. Not doing too good.”
His voice lowered almost immediately. “I’ll help you. I’m at the top of the class, I’m plenty damn capable.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “You’d tutor me? Seriously?”
“Yeah! What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help you tell your dad to shove it? Let’s start tonight.”
“Wait, tonight? Can’t we start tomorrow?”
“No! If we start now you can ace that test on Thursday! Come on, get a book!”
You didn’t know you’d unleash militant teacher Bakugou, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good to have someone care so much. “Fine, whatever. Love you, babe.”
“Come on!”
“Babe!”
“…Yeah ditto.”


“[Name], hey, how’re you doi—sleeping. You’re sleeping.”
You lifted your head up from the foot of your bed, blearily staring at Midoriya. “Huh? No no I’m good. Long day. Long month.”
He came and sat next to you, trying to straighten out your hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Dad. Just dad.” You grumbled, and Midoriya noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “He’s been annoying and loud and I’m tired, tired, tired,” You spat bitterly. “Do you have headphones I can borrow?”
He laid down next to you, slinging an arm over your waist. “Are you okay?”
You grimaced. “Can I come over some time? Like, not even to spend the night, just stay really late and go home in the dead of night?”
“Wouldn’t that just give him more reason to yell at you?”
“Don’t care. If it all happens at once it’s fine. When it’s spread out over the day is when it sucks. I’m not even gonna ask to stay for dinner, can I just chill in your room for a few hours?” It occurred to you as soon as the words left your mouth that you were sort of imposing. “Oh shit, didn’t mean to invite myself over like that.”
He shook his head. “No, you can come over. My mom loves you, she’d probably prepare the guest room for you and everything.”
Inko did seem to enjoy having you over a lot. “For real?”
“Yeah! Come over this weekend if you want! Come spend time with my parent, she’s great!” Mama’s boy. “If it’ll help with your situation, you can come over whenever you like.”
You pressed your face into his neck, kissing just below his ear. You loved doing that, he always shivered a little bit. “Thanks Izuku. You’re the best.”

jinxiebat  asked:

Father Ren's delusional ass thinks he's gonna give up sex for Lent. RC decides to give her temptation muscle some exercise and starts by ordering expensive lingerie addressed to him just to remind him of what he's missing

((I used our canon for this, because… uh… I can. OTP.))

You sigh, staring at Kylo from across the room, his ankle propped up on his knee, the Bible in his hand. He wants to give some sort of homily regarding the beginning of Lent, most likely, not that you particularly care. You haven’t been to church since he’d bound himself to you, and you haven’t missed it.

But Lent is a problem. It’s been four days, now, since you’ve fucked, and he’s been more stubborn than usual. In his insistence to maintain some sort of moral superiority, he’s rebuked you at every possible opportunity. In bed, you’d reached for his cock, danced your fingers around his soft shaft–but he’d swatted you away. Enough, he’d grumbled. In the shower too, you’d tempted him, slipping in when his eyes were closed, then watching him gaze at the rivulets of warm water running over your breasts. You could have sworn his dick had twitched, then–but you weren’t for certain, because he’d shooed you away.

“You’re fooling yourself, Kylo,” you’d called back to him, but he hadn’t said a word. His mind had been just as blank. He had been hiding from you.

A few more rejections following that, and now, you’re fracturing. It isn’t like you to feel embarrassed, or humiliated, or–what’s the word–rejected. If anything, you need to be the one rejecting him.

So you huff, throwing on a pair of shoes, and grab his keys. “I’m going out.”

Kylo’s eyes flick to yours–something underneath the amber glass of his irises. But he’s silent, and nods his acknowledgement. This only irritates you further–you storm out, knowing exactly where you need to go next.

When you return home, he’s still in the same spot, those full lips pursed in thought as he reads. You escape to your bedroom, changing quickly–sheer, dark stockings, black garter belt, black lace up to your barely-covered tits, thin black straps over your shoulders. Everything is tight and tempting and fleshy and raw. You slip on a pair of black patent heels and saunter into the living room.

The click, click of your footsteps has already caught Kylo’s attention, his eyes darting to the floor first when you enter. The shoes have his attention, his brow tightening as he spots them–but then his eyes wander up, over your legs, over the lace and straps on your thighs, over the black panties and sheer top, stopping at the lace hiding your nipples. Your breasts are full, bouncing softly with every step you take, and he shifts.

His throat bobs as he swallows. And finally, finally, you hear him–

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His eyes rake over your body, the Bible looking limp in his hand, and he meets your stare. “What are you doing?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer.

“Me?” You spin, so he can see how round and soft your ass looks in your panties. “Nothing.”

Fuck.

Kylo spits out your name like a warning. “I’ve already told you about my penance.”

“I know.” Grinning, you drop to your knees in front of him, running your hands over your body. “I’m not touching you.”

“You know what you’re doing. Stop.”

Pouting, you squeeze one of your tits. “Stop what?” you say. “I’m not interfering with Lent.”

He pauses, watching your fingers bury into your own flesh. Just a small touch… “Yes.” Recovering, he rolls his eyes. “You are.”

“Really?” Your fingers dip low, grazing over your cunt, and you release a shuddering whine. “What do you mean?”

“Stop it,” he growls–and even as he does this, he drops the Bible on the couch and uncrosses his legs. “Now.”

You feign shock, sitting back on your heels, letting him get a better view of your tits. “I can’t believe you’re being so callous, Kylo.”

His eyes are stuck on you. He wants to move them, but he can’t–and the longer he stares, the more rapid his thoughts become, spilling out as his control wanes.

Just a glimpse of your tits. Let me see. That won’t hurt anything. Or maybe if you just touch me. A little. Just a taste…

With that, you know he’s cracking, and you inch forward, dragging your pointed nails up his calf. He swallows again, but doesn’t kick you off, doesn’t even ask you to move. All he does is watch, his breath slow in his chest. When you glance between his legs, you see the evidence of his fading resistance–his erection is straining at his trousers, and his hands rest on his thighs, centimeters away.

“What’s this?” you say, your hand crawling up his thigh. “Kylo… am I turning you on?”

Of course you are. “No.” Climb on top of me. Let me sink my cock into that sweet little cunt. “You’re not.”

You grin. “I think I am.” Pushing his hand aside, you stop, hovering over the tent of his cock. “We could test it and find out.”

“Don’t.” Yes.

His eyes are dark and desperate, pleading with you for relief in either form, and his hips inch forward, as if to entice you. Not that it isn’t working–you’ve been dreaming about wrapping your lips around his cock, about riding him until he passes out. Your brain has been busy with thoughts of his panting breath, his flushed cheeks, his broad shoulders, tense with movement–thoughts of his hands, strong and firm on your hips, and his mouth, pressing eager, hungry marks into your throat and your tits.

But you remember your thought earlier–you should be denying him. So when he jerks his hips upward in attempt to graze your palm, you jerk your hand away, grinning wickedly, and he collapses back onto the couch in a frustrated, embarrassed whimper. You’d broken him.

“You know what,” you say. “You’re right. I think your penance is definitely the most important thing. Wouldn’t want to walk into mass as a hypocrite, tomorrow.” You pause. “Well. A bigger hypocrite, anyway.”

Kylo grumbles your name, but says nothing, his mind blank again, and he sits up again, snatching the Bible and ripping it open.

anonymous asked:

Hey, Mira. I hope you're doing okay. If this request can maybe make you feel a little bit better, maybe nalu, college au? I've always thought it's a bad time. I don't know what you've been through, so I can't do much to help. I'm sorry. Take care

A/N: *hugs you* It’s all right; your well-wishes mean more to me than you know. I don’t want to bore people with my life too much anyway, heh, so don’t worry about it. So I might as well get to your request I am just the best procrastinator since I’m now only a couple semesters away from graduation! So things are getting better for me for sure, slowly but surely ;u; I hope you enjoy this; thanks for the request!

I’m sorry for the lateness (and possible rustiness ‘cause wow am I out of practice)! Baby steps. :’3


POP!

Natsu’s heart just about leapt right out of his chest when his phone suddenly buzzed out of nowhere in his back pocket. He did his best to calm his heart as he sat up and fished out his phone to check what it was—this shady spot under the trees in the campus park was just too easy to doze off at.

The first thing that caught his eye was the time—and he immediately blanched. Had it already been this long? He’d been so sure he had another half hour at the least…

He sighed and ruffled his matted salmon-pink hair, brushing out the bits of leaves and twigs that had gotten tangled in them when he’d laid down and fallen asleep there…again, before finally checking to see what notification he’d received.

It was a text from Lucy.

Hey, Natsu; I just finished class for the day! Where are you?

Natsu bit back a groan as his heart sunk a bit lower—he really had slept for way too long if Lucy had already finished her classes. What sort of excuse could he give her now? He had nothing!

He waited for another minute or so before he texted her back:

Eh, just at the usual spot, you know the one
I’ll wait for you

And he sat back and stared up at the tree branches while letting the light breeze tickle his cheeks until she arrived—which wasn’t long; he could hear her calling his name from a distance after only a couple more minutes.

“Hey, Natsu! I’m here!” Natsu raised his head and turned in the direction of her voice—the slender blonde was holding her schoolbooks under one arm and had slung her purse over her opposite shoulder, smiling and waving at him as she jogged over to meet him.

Natsu couldn’t help but smile to himself as she approached even in spite of the storm of tirades he knew would eventually come his way.

Damn it; she’s beautiful…

“Hey, Lucy,” he greeted her in return as she reached him, finally standing up and dusting himself off. “Doing good today?”

“Oh, yeah; today was good! I finished off the rest of my homework, and I’m free over the weekend!” She then smiled at him expectantly. “What about you? How did that presentation of yours go?”

Damn it; she just jumped straight for it without giving him any time to come up with a legitimate excuse. He exhaled sharply before rubbing the back of his neck, not meeting her gaze.

“I didn’t go,” he answered at last.

Lucy’s warm brown eyes widened. “You…didn’t go? W-wait a minute; you mean you skipped?

He stared down at his worn shoes now as he lowered his hand, still not looking up. “…Yeah.”

“But…Natsu, that presentation was worth thirty percent of your grade! Now you’re pretty much guaranteed to fail it!”

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you—?”

I don’t know!” he finally snapped—he didn’t even need to look up to realize that she’d flinched back at his sharp retort. He sighed heavily, covering his face with his hands. “I just…I don’t know. I know it was an important assignment; I know passing this class was hinging on whether or not I aced that presentation. I know. I just…” His hands fell away from his face and he returned to staring up at the tree branches above them, the regret gnawing away at his chest. “I don’t know why I didn’t do it. I didn’t even have anything prepared, not even an ad-lib or an outline or even a fucking notecard. I honestly tried, but I couldn’t make myself care.” 

Natsu still wouldn’t look at her face, but he could hear the tender concern in Lucy’s tone as she murmured, “Natsu…”

And for some reason, that only aggravated him even more.

“I know I probably should care, but I just don’t. I don’t even get the point of this class; what does it even have to do with my major? At all? What even is the point when I’m not going to apply this in my daily life ever?” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “Fuck college. Fuck all of it and its stress-inducing and greedy money-grabbing ways. I wish I never applied. I never even wanted to.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air between the two as Natsu finished his rant, only being interrupted by the gentle rustling of the leaves above and the distant chatter of the campus students scattered about as they went about their business. It was a moment before either of them spoke.

“…Natsu?” Lucy said at last.

Natsu sighed, bracing himself for the incoming lecture. “Yeah; what?”

“Do you…want to grab some coffee before we go back to the dorms?”

He felt his eyebrows arch in surprise as he finally turned to look at her in full. She wasn’t going to yell at him?

“Wait…you’re not upset?”

“Well, of course I’m upset…upset that you didn’t tell me about any of this sooner.” She crossed her arms with a huff, puffing out her cheeks somewhat to make that oddly adorable indignant expression. “Aren’t we best friends? Best friends that agreed on the whole never keep secrets from each other thing? Seriously; what’s with you?”

Natsu was at a loss for words. His mouth just hung open in his astonishment. “Uh…I was…I just thought that you, um—”

Lucy stared at him for a moment before laughing and taking his hand. “C’mon, you idiot. You really need a dose of caffeine right about now.”

“Ah—hey, wait a minute—!” Natsu couldn’t get anything else out past that before Lucy began pulling him along toward the parking lot.

“We’re going to talk later—once we’re back at our dorm with our coffee!”

But I don’t even like coffee!!

anonymous asked:

US and UF Sans (platonic or romantic is your choice) with the phrase "I can't believe how fucking stupid you are!"

I choose… Blueberry!!!!  I apologize in advance mostly to @letshaveskeletonsoffun .  Sorry!   I’m gonna make him so evil let’s do this.(that didn’t work)  

Warning: cussing!

Underswap

Blueberry:

It had been a long day, a very long day.  You hadn’t slept last night and had to leave early this morning to go to work.  After work you jogged until you couldn’t anymore, there had been a few altercations at work and you needed to do something to get away.  You hoped that once you got home you could just try and sleep.  

But you doubted that your boyfriend Blueberry was home waiting for you and he never seemed to sleep.  You didn’t want to go home like this angry and depressed.  All you would be doing is bringing down his cheerful attitude.  So instead you went to a Grillby’s and drank.  Great idea huh?  Good job thinking that one up.

Grillby cut you off after you started arguing with some of the regulars and called Blue after you started falling off your stool.  Blue came by a lot faster than you though.  A part of you had thought that he wouldn’t come at all that he would realize what a worthless piece of trash you were and had tossed you out.  He would be better off without you.  

But he did come and he did take you home.  And as soon as the front door closed behind you, he stopped talking.  He had been telling you how worried he was and how you could have gotten hurt all the way home.  But now that you were home he was silent.  You couldn’t stand it, the silence was killing you.  So you filled it.

“Why even bother?”  You took a step back from Blue.  You weren’t sure where you were going with this nihilistic outlook but you would find your point eventually.  The most important thing was to fill the silence.

“Come in, y/n!  You are drunk let’s get you to bed!”  He sounds so quiet and sad, he came towards you probably trying to guide you upstairs.  But you couldn’t think straight and continued talking while backing up

“Me!  Why bother with be!  I’m stupid and pathetic and broken!  Why do you waste your time on something like me!”  You could tell Blueberry was trying to talk but you wouldn’t give him the chance.  “I RUIN EVERYTHING, EVEN YOU!  LOOK AT YOU!  YOU WERE SO HAPPY WHEN WE MEET NOW LOOK YOU HAVE TO TAKE A STUPID DRUNK TO BED BECAUSE THEY CAN’T FUKING DEAL WITH THEIR OWN LIFE!  I FUCKING DESERVE TO FUCKING-”

“I can’t believe how fucking stupid you are!”  That got your attention, you had never heard him cuss before.  You blinked away the tears that were blinding you and stared at Blue.  He sounded so angry but still quiet.  

“What did you say?”  You had to fill the silence, with Blue staring at you, it seemed even more intense than before.  

He sighed, “YOU DO NOT RUIN EVERYTHING!  YOU ARE THE BEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME AND I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART!  ANYONE THAT KNOWS YOU IS HAPPY TO HAVE YOU IN THEIR LIFE!  SURE YOU DRINK TOO MUCH SOMETIMES BUT THAT IS SOMETHING THAT TELLS ME I HAVE NOT BEEN THERE FOR YOU ENOUGH!  NEVER THINK THAT YOU ARE ANYTHING OTHER THAN A BLESSING TO THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!”  He had returned to his normal volume and his smile was back on his face.  He held out his hand, “YOU HAVE MY WORD THAT YOU WILL FEEL BETTER IN THE MORNING!  NOW COME!”  

You took his hand feeling as if you had no other option.  He leads you up the stairs and to your room.  He made sure you were in bed and comfortable before turning off the light.  He turned to walk out of the room and looked back at you over his shoulder, “And y/n, if I ever hear you talking about how you don’t deserve to live again I will take more drastic measures.’