sun beams

anonymous asked:

Who are Izzys enemies and why?

The villains of the girls: Izzy, Jeffery and Anne-Marie: Red demon and Leroy

Oceana: Coral the sea witch

Felicia: Philip

Rocky and Carrie: Erin,

Rosetta and Triniy: Hexes

Sun-beam and Luna: Joseph and Donna

Butterella and Dragolena: Flint

Penelope: Andrew

Amber: Her father, Red demon

Because it was all of Red Demon’s doing. He turned the innocent people that were once kind and gentle citizens, and had poison them with a spell of evil deeds. They’re were even villains who were related to the girls on the list.

emoji self-care + positive list:

💖 sparkle up your heart by doing random acts of kindness to the people you love or even to strangers (if ur comfortable with that)
🐶 pat your doggos, pets, and animals friends for a happy soul! give em extra hugs for optimal results!
🐣 dont chicken out! if u want to do something that makes u happy, just do it! and always remember to do it for yourself
🐚 collect sum cute shells in the beach, fill a smol jar with sand, and chill with ur friends/significant other
🌱 go on a botanical garden adventure! make ur own garden! plant the old seeds u bought from a plant shop, water your little sprouts!
🍵 drink a warm cup of earl grey tea or coffee! spice it up with cinnamon if u want! (i dont like. cinnamon tho but u kno)
🍋 detoxify!! lemon is a good antioxidant! drink a cup of lemonade or do ur mix in ur own way!
🍓 boost ur health (bc it is wealth) by eating and storing a couple of organic fruits for personal consumption
🌻 go buy yourself some sunflowers, daisies, zinnias, crysanthemums in the farmer’s market
🌞 go out, experience the sunny weekdays, enjoy the feel of sun beams during the golden hours, fall in love with the summer feel
🌚 observe the moon, fall in love with the stars, embrace the beauty of the skies and the galaxies
📌 grab the keys and go on a crazy spontaneous adventure !! bring a tad of food for picnic purposes too
🎨 make art, appreciate art, be ur own version of masterpiece. grow up and craft yourself to become ur best version!
🔮 invest in the little things in life. enjoy the smell of rain, the copper brwn color of your trees on autumn, living for the littlest things is (proven to be) magical.
⌚ dont worry too much!! you are not running out of time. you are still young and you have ur life ahead of you.
🎥 film all the beautiful things about your days. do it for achive’s sake. do it for your future self. do it so that u may be able to rewatch it over and over again
🎶 listen to good soothing music while taking a shower, nap, or walking on parks!!
💌 write your future self a letter that talks about your aspirations and dreams and a little description about ur present self
📖 read your favorite books under the genre feel-good! reread if u want to feel the lingering joy inside ur chest again!
💭 talk to your friends, colleagues, best buds etc! it is never okay to bottle up the sadness!!
🔎 research cute places you’ve never been to and visit them alone, with your significant other, or with your best pals! google is ur adventure bestfriend!
✨ dont forget to sparkle up! ur shinier than the glitters!
💤 get some sleep to recharge for a brighter tomorrow! oversleeping may sometimes be bad for u tho
✋ give yourself a high five for surviving today and yesterday! im proud of u!
📯 learn a new instrument and compose a cute song for your friend!

It'll Last Longer (Bucky Barnes x Reader) One-Shot

It’ll Last Longer: After being gifted a Polaroid camera, Bucky becomes infatuated with taking pictures. Reader finds out that Bucky likes to take pictures of her, leading them to discovering Bucky’s camera kink.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minor kink shaming. Minior humiliation. Come play. Camera kink. Extremely NSFW!



When Steve brought Bucky to the tower for the first time, you were curious about him. He was a bit reclusive. When you held out your hand for him to shake, he stared at it as if it were some kind of deadly insect. The man hardly looked at you more than twice after that. Steve assured you that Bucky did like you, it was just going to take some time for him to get used to being around females.

“He hasn’t seen a dame that wasn’t running for their life since back in the day,” he explained.

You understood completely, figuring if you just gave the poor guy some distance, he’d come around at some point. It was only the first day, so it was no big deal. You made sure to give him a smile each time you saw him and even exchanged good mornings at breakfast. It took a while, but he began coming out of his shell bit by bit.

However, nine months into his stay at the tower, Bucky still wasn’t ready to go on missions yet.

There were days when he was stuck at the tower by himself with absolutely nothing to do. He watched movies on Netflix, worked out in the magnificent gym, and even tried drawing like Steve did. But the boredom was becoming unbearable. That’s when Steve took it upon himself to get his best friend a hobby.

“What is this?” Bucky asks, curiously fiddling with the device in his hands.

“It’s a camera. Y/N used to have one growing up, so I figured you’d like it.”

Steve took the camera from his friend’s hands and turned it towards him. After a bright flash, the mechanical sound of the picture printing made Bucky’s eyes widen with shock. They watched as the small Polaroid picture ejected from the camera.

“Holy shit!” he gawked as he stared down at the camera.

“Language, Buck.” Steve laughed and tossed the camera back to him.


The camera became Bucky’s new obsession.

He began snapping pictures of small things at first. He got ones of the birds as they flew over the roof of the tower, he got some of Steve as he polished his shield in the armory, and he even managed to get some of Tony’s suits in his lab.

As time went on, and he came out of his shell bit by bit, he began taking pictures of the team (with their permission of course.).

Everyone had gotten used to the small mechanical sounds of his Polaroid camera. He had a small collection of his team mates covering the walls of his room.

The ones of Sam consisted of the man doing everyday things like playing video games or singing along to Marvin Gaye. His favorite was the one he snapped of him wearing his wings right before a mission. His back was turned, the lighting casting a shadow over the mechanical wings, making it look like it belonged in some action movie poster.

The ones of Nat were mostly of her outside. He thought the sun made her hair look fiery and complimented her skin perfectly. He got some of her lounging by the pool as she read a book. Some were of her doing yoga on one of the mats by a large window in the gym. His favorite was the one he took a couple weeks ago; she and Steve were at the park and he managed to catch a photo of them kissing secretively. Bucky still smiles every time he sees it.

The ones of Clint consist of the archer doing the dorkiest things. There were far too many ones of him aiming one of his arrows at one of the team members, making silly faces behind their backs. There was some of him playing guitar hero dramatically and even one of him trying to balance a vast amount of graham crackers on his forehead; that one was Bucky’s personal favorite.

The ones he got of Wanda, usually Vision was there with her, and so he just combined the two of theirs into one section in his room. Most of their pictures consisted of them cooking in the kitchen (Vision finally learned how to properly make paprika!) with the two covered in flour and laughing. There was some of Vision by himself, putting together the many puzzles he owned or helping Tony in the lab. The ones of Wanda consisted of the woman sculpting clay with her powers (which became a hobby of her own.) and covered in various colors of paint from head to toe.

Somehow, he was able to get some selfies from Thor when he came down from Asgard. He got some of the demi god placing his hammer on Steve’s shield with Steve struggling underneath it. His favorite was the one he got of him calling Heimdall to open the portal.

The ones of Tony were almost always from afar. He still wasn’t comfortable with the man just yet, but that didn’t stop him from snapping a few pics of him as he tinkered away in his garage. And he has one of the men secretly playing the grand piano in his basement. He made sure to hide that one.

Out of all the pictures he had in his room, he found that the ones of you took up the most space. And for a totally valid reason. Bucky would take it to the grave if he had to.

He was a little bit obsessed with you. Just a little bit.

Some of the pictures of you consisted of you working out. He found you the most beautiful when you simply weren’t trying to be. Your eyebrows were drawn together in focus, your hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail, and you were completely unaware of your natural beauty. The other half were of you in your combat suit before a mission. There was something about your pre-mission aura that made you look amazing. You were standing next to Steve during a mission briefing, your eyes were focused on the paper in front of you. There were some of you doing your make up in the mirror of your bedroom, your hair in rollers as you applied a coat of mascara that you really didn’t need.

On top of all that, Bucky Barnes had a secret that nobody knew. He had an entire separate collection of Polaroids of you hidden in a small box underneath his bed and they were for his own eyes only. Steve had been the only one to notice that majority of the pictures Bucky took of you were ones in which you were wearing less clothing than usual. He nearly had a heart attack when the blond brought it up one day. But being the pure, wholesome soul Steve was, Bucky was able to argue that the pictures were taken in the summertime.

In the hidden box, there were various photos.

Some were of you in the swimming pool, wearing your bikini. The first picture was your breasts, he didn’t even bother to get your face into the shot. It was the first day of summer and it was your day off. The next picture was taken seconds later, but the shot was of your ass as you reached for the beer Nat was handing you. The material of the bottoms hugged around your curves amazingly, how could he not snap a picture?

The third photo was the main source of Bucky’s masturbating material, as it was a photo of you lying on one of the lounge chairs. The position Bucky was in gave him a perfect view of your clothed crotch. Your feet were planted on the chair, giving him the opportunity to snap the picture and slip it into his back pocket.

There was a second group of pictures from the one time the power went out during a thunderstorm, causing everything to shut down, even the water. Luckily for him, you were in the middle of a shower and had to step out into the common room wearing only a towel. He just HAD to get a picture of that. There were only two: One of you sitting on one of the stools. He purposely chose to sit on the couch to get a view of your slightly open legs, but alas, you crossed them as soon as he sat. The second one was of you crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly causing your breasts to push up.

The third stack was taken during a Halloween party that Tony was throwing. You decided to come dressed up a Little Red Riding Hood, wearing a rather revealing corset and skirt that showed off your legs. The entire night, Bucky stealthily followed you around, snapping picture after picture of you. There were some that he was able to get up your skirt as you re crossed your legs or bent over. He got some of your breasts as you leaned over the pool table and some of your mouth as you bit into one of the candy apples Wanda made. Steve couldn’t figure out why Bucky was grinning like an idiot as he walked back to his room after the party. To sum it up, Bucky had a very good time in his room that night.

There was the downside of it all, though.

Bucky was taking inappropriate pictures of you without your permission. When it all came down to it, he was technically a peeping tom. It was wrong, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop, not matter how perverted it was. It was almost like an addiction. He longed to finally get a picture of you completely exposed and vulnerable. It was his biggest fantasy.

But honestly, he would be terrified if you somehow ever found out about his little perverted game.


Tony was perhaps the dumbest smart person you’ve ever known.

One of the greatest minds in the twenty first century, somehow managed to ‘accidentally’ cause a malfunction in one of his suits, causing it to explode in his workshop. The same workshop that was right next to the giant air conditioning unit, causing the entire tower’s air conditioning to go out in the middle of July.

You were in the common area, trying to read one of your beloved Harry Potter books, despite the scorching heat coming from outside. You tried to go swimming, but that only made it worse, hence the sun was still directly beaming on you. Giving up, you toweled off and plopped onto the couch, flipping through your book.

After a while of flipping through the book, you got the sudden feeling of someone watching you. It was probably nothing, as you were the only person on the floor. You focused back on the words of your book, scanning the paragraph for the place you left off.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it never went away. In fact, it only got stronger. Glancing up from your book, you caught the sight of Bucky Barnes watching you intently from the small kitchen area. The way he was positioned, the average person wouldn’t have been able to spot him, but you had grown used to his stealth.

Setting your book down, you gave him a smile. How long had he been there? Bucky was a pretty cool guy from your encounters, but this was creeping you out a bit. He blinked a few times, before pretending to do something. Unsure of how else to handle the situation, you went back to your book, ignoring the intense gaze from the kitchen.

After finishing your book, you closed it and rolled onto your back. The bikini top you wore tightened around your chest, but you couldn’t find yourself to care the slightest bit. You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You really, really, missed the air conditioning.

For the second time that day, you felt the feeling of being watched creep its way into your mind. The sound of footsteps alerted you that you weren’t alone in the living room any more.

“Why don’t you take a picture, Barnes?” you tease, smirking. “It’ll last longer.”

Turning your head to the side, you caught the sight of Bucky peering down at you from behind the couch. In his hand was the small Polaroid camera you’d seen quite a bit. Trailing your eyes down his body, you noticed how handsome he was. Those darn super soldiers…

“I already have some of you,” his voice is soft, yet reluctant. Each one of his words were chosen carefully, you could sense it. “You’re just…very photogenic. I can’t help but admire.”

You’ve been called a lot of things by past boyfriends and lovers. Hot, sexy, etc.; but there was something about being called photogenic by Bucky that made your heart flutter and a blush break out on your cheeks. You sat up, propping yourself on your elbows.

“Photogenic?” you ask. He nods, eyes trailing down your body. “That’s one I haven’t heard before.” It was meant as a joke, but you both knew it was the truth.

“If it’s alright with you,” he says, holding the camera up for you to see. “Can I….take some pictures of you?”

The question catches you off guard.

You knew he took some snaps of you now and then, but he was technically asking you for a photoshoot now. You knew he wouldn’t post them or anything – he barely could operate the remote for the TV.

“Alright,” you say, standing and walking over to him. 

“Where do you want me?”


It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

You were in the pool, floating around on Clint’s little duck floaty as Bucky snapped picture after picture of you. It was almost as if you were some A-list celebrity. You felt like Marilyn Monroe without the extra craziness that came along with it. It was flattering, to say the least.

“Is this okay?” you asked him as you took a sip from your beer.

“It’s perfect,” he says, snapping another picture. “You look gorgeous.”

He looked like a kid at Christmas. Maybe he was just excited that someone had took an interest in his hobby? He always got that way when Steve asked him about his pictures.

After a couple of hours, you began to grow tired. The beaming sun on your body mixed with your hands turning wrinkly were draining you and Bucky had run out of film. He had used an entire roll; scattered all around him from his lap and onto the concrete were pictures of you.

“You said you had more of those,” you mention, peering up at him. He hums a yes while taking a sip of his own beer. You can’t help but stare at his jawline. Man, you could cut diamonds on that thing. “Can you show me?” His eyes light up at your words.

“Anything for you, doll.” He grins, setting the beer down and helping you out of the pool.

You’d always wanted to see this so called collection that Steve talked about. He said that Bucky had a whole wall dedicated

to it. You had to see this for yourself.

Bucky’s room wasn’t as dark and gloomy as you thought it would be. In fact, it was pretty well decorated.

The first thing you caught was the Polaroid’s, which covered an entire wall. You gaped, standing in front of it. There were pictures of everyone doing all sorts of things.

You saw one taken on Sam’s birthday; Clint had smashed some cake into his face. You saw another taken of Peter, who was dangling upside down on a web, grinning at the camera. You giggled when you saw one of Nat as she was angrily swatting at the camera, her face covered in a facial mask. There was even one of Vision giving the camera a thumbs up as he stirred whatever he was cooking.

But the one that caught your eye the most was a peculiar one on his desk. If you hadn’t of glanced there, you wouldn’t have noticed it in the first place. Moving the random book that covered half of it, you held it up so that you could get a better look.

And you weren’t sure if you should’ve done that.

It was a Polaroid of you a couple months back. You had spilled a glass of soda on your white sleeping shirt during movie night and your nipples were almost visible through the material.

Thinking back to that night, you remembered that there wasn’t anyone else in the kitchen with you either. How did he even get that pi-

Before you could react, Bucky snatched the Polaroid from your hand and held it behind his back defensively.

“What…how did….why?” you stuttered. If he’d taken one picture like this, there surely must’ve been more, right? He was far too skilled when it came to it.

Bucky stared down at the floor shamefully.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he says quietly. You frown.

“Find out what?” You ask, glancing back at the photos. “That you’re taking perverted pictures of me?”

“That’s not what this is, I swear!” he cried. “I like you, Y/N. A lot, actually. I didn’t know how to approach you. I’m not used to being around…women.”

“But Nat…”

“Nat’s well….she’s Nat,” he says with a nervous chuckle. One that he immediately stops when he sees your eyes grow colder. “She’s not really a traditional dame, if you catch my drift. She’s like one of the guys.”

You had no idea what to say. You were frustrated, not because you were embarrassed, but because somehow, deep in that dirty little mind of yours, you found this to be the sweetest thing. But you couldn’t figure out if it was because it was Bucky, or because it was the situation. You were utterly confused.

You stood in front of Bucky, holding the picture in your hands. 


“This has got to be the creepiest…” you began. His face fell into a frown. “….cutest thing anyone has ever done for me, Bucky.” You placed the picture back into his hand and placed a small kiss on his lips.

“What do you say we take some more? Maybe without all these clothes on?”

His eyes nearly shot out of his head at how wide they were. You watched his face as you reached behind your back and slowly undid the bikini top and dropped it onto the floor. His mouth fell open at the sight of your bare chest. You licked your lips before crashing them onto his. His hands felt their way to your hips, hooking underneath the bottoms of your bikini and tugging them down your thighs forcefully. Once he rid them from you, he gave your behind a playful swat. You moaned into his mouth. He pulled away, staring down at you with darkened eyes. This was far better than any picture he could’ve taken.

“C’mere,” he says, gently pushing you back onto the bed. He picked your legs and spread them wide, setting both your feet on the bed. You felt so exposed and it was the hottest thing you’ve experienced so far. You rested your hands on your stomach as you patiently waited for Bucky. The sound of clicking was the only thing audible as he replaced the film in his camera.

“Okay, doll,” his Brooklyn accent now, and it sent a wave of arousal to your core.

You picked your head up and peer up at him. He held the camera in his hands, but his eyes were glued between your legs. You could feel yourself dripping onto the comforter, just imagine how it must’ve looked to Bucky.

He cleared his throat before looking back into your eyes. “Can you spread your legs for me?” he asks.

You can’t help but giggle at how chivalrous he was even when he was horny. You nod, spreading your legs farther apart, giving him a full view of your pussy. You could hear his breath stutter, he cursed under his breath.

“Like this?” you ask innocently, sliding your hand down your body until your fingers are resting on your lips, spreading them apart. Bucky lets out a small groan at the sight and nods.

“That’s perfect, angel.” He says, looking into the camera and pressing the little red button on the side. You watched as the picture slipped out of the camera and onto Bucky’s hand. Setting it on the dresser, he turned back to you with a grin.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he says, leaning down and pecking your lips. “Can you try something else for me?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, darling.” You didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but you couldn’t help it. You were being showered with affection and compliments, you were lost in Bucky at the moment. 


Bucky held the camera with his flesh hand and brought his metal one to your mouth. His fingers brushed your bottom lip, running along the pink flesh. “Can you get these nice and wet for me, sweetie?” you groan at the nickname and take two of his fingers into your mouth, lapping them up with your tongue.

Bucky watched you as you did, licking his lips hungrily. Pulling them out, he leaned forward and pecked your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Leaning back between your legs, he slowly ran his fingers along the slit of your core, making sure your lips were spread. He placed the camera between your legs and pressed red the button again.

“Fuck,” you whispered. His metal fingers were cold, but you didn’t mind. They felt amazing.

You began grinding your hips into them, eager for some kind of friction. Bucky smiled down at you, one that showed nothing but pure admiration.

“You want my fingers, honey? Is that it?” he asks. You nod furiously.

“Please, Bucky.” Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he inserted his first finger into you. But it wasn’t nearly enough. You needed more.

Placing the camera back between your legs, he added another finger; earning a moan from you. Clicking the red button, you let out another moan as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you faster. You grabbed onto his arms, spreading your legs even wider.

“Oh my god,” you whimper. His fingers began creating an obscene sound as they entered you over and over again. It was so damn filthy, but you fucking loved it.

Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his fingers from your dripping core, making you whine.

“We’re not done yet, doll,” he says. He placed the camera on the bed and slowly pulled the black boxers he wore down. You watched as they traveled down his toned thighs until they were nothing more than a heap of material on the floor.

He gripped his member in his flesh hand and slowly began pumping himself as he stared down at you. That’s when you got the brightest idea. Reaching beside you, you grabbed the camera and aimed it at Bucky and pressed the little red button. You turned the camera towards you and held the Polaroid in your fingers. You couldn’t see his face, but you could had a perfect view of his cock, leaking precum onto his hand. Smiling innocently, you placed the picture on the dresser.

“Y/N,” he smiled. “Did you just….?”

You reached forward and pulled him on top of you. You threaded your fingers in his hair and crashed his mouth onto yours. He let out a moan into the kiss, licking inside your mouth with his tongue. He tasted so damn good, just like you knew he would.

Your legs found themselves wrapped around his waist and you could feel him sliding across your heat. You reached down between the two of you and gripped his member, guiding it to your entrance.

“Not so fast, sugar,” he teased, reaching for the camera. He leaned back, aiming the camera between your bodies. He gripped himself once again and slid the head of his cock against your dripping hole. You threw your head back, letting out a cry of pleasure. You ached for him, yet he tortured you. It wasn’t fair.

The sound of the camera snapping pulled you back to reality.

“Bucky,” you hissed. “Enough already. Just fuck me!” He chuckled with amusement.

He slowly pressed the head inside of you, stretching your walls farther than they’ve ever been. It hurt, but it was amazing. His head fell onto your shoulder and he let out a shaky breath. He pulled out all the way and peered down between the two of you. The sight of his cock covered in your juices nearly made you orgasm right then.

Without telling you, he slammed his hips into yours, making you scream out in both pain and pleasure. His thrusts were brutal, causing the bed to slam against the wall. You wrapped your arms around him. His mouth found its way to your shoulder, biting gently onto the flesh. He felt so fucking good, you felt like you could cry.

Shifting his weight onto his knees, Bucky pulled your legs over his waist and began thrusting harder into your abused hole. Your head fell back onto the bed, you could feel your clit rubbing against his abdomen in such delicious way.

It was all too much for you. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, your body was trembling with pleasure. Bucky’s hands began kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples softly. He let out a loud groan as he felt the head of his cock hit your cervix. The sound of your skin hitting his filled the room, along with your screams.

“Bucky,” you cried. "I’m gonna come!”

He let out a shaky laugh, amused at how much you loved this, before grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. He gently sucked on your neck, nibbling into the delicate flesh.

You let out a scream as your orgasm ripped through your body. You dragged your nails down Bucky’s back, making him let out a gasp. His thrusts are becoming sloppy, you can feel him trembling against your body, but you’re too out of it to even care. You just came your brains out.

“Fuck, Y/N!” He growled into your ear. “Im gonna come.”

You gently pushed him away from you, he let out a whine. Placing a kiss on his cheek, you force him to stand. You kneel in front of him, opening your mouth for him.

Taking the hint, he grabbed the camera and aimed it at you, while pumping himself curiously with his metal hand.

He’s chanting your name over and over, thrusting into his fist and its the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You can’t wait to taste him.

FUCK Y/N!” He shouts, his orgasm ripping through him.

You lean closer as he coats ribbon after ribbon of come onto your mouth and breasts. It was a lot, far more than any of the few guys you’ve been with could produce. He tasted sweeter than them, too. You licked your lips, gathering some of it with your tongue.

You looked up at Bucky innocently, smiling at him.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this, Y/N.” he breathes. He lifted the camera and aimed it at you. With a nod, you smile seductively as he clicked the little red button.

Tossing the camera onto the bed, he helped you up from the floor and set you on his bed. Placing a kiss on your forehead, he ran to the bathroom. You could hear the faint sound of a faucet running. He made his way back to you, a small washcloth in hand and a sheepish smile on his lips.

He gently wiped your face, making sure nothing was left, before making his way to your chest.

“Y/N,” he says, breaking the silence. Your eyes met his.

“Yes, Bucky?” The corners of his mouth twitched at the sound of his name coming from your mouth.

I love you.” You can’t fight the grin that spreads on your face.

“I know,” you say, placing a kiss on his lips. “I love you, too.

- Fin!

{02.05.17}

Prepping for my Soc & Pol exam on Thursday and wishing someone would study outside with me in this gorgeous weather ☀️

I’ve organised my notes so that a purple star means definition, a green star mean theorist and a pink one means new topic 💜💚💕

How do you organise your notes?

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

Mr. Hemmings

To be honest, you don’t know where this new found confidence is coming from since you’re normally a red face blubbering mess in front of him. Maybe it was the wink he sent you this morning or his eyes constantly roaming down your body, whatever it was made your confidence boost and let your wild side escape.

Originally posted by irweicake

Words: 5.5K

Request: No

Rating: R [A HIGH AMOUNT OF DOMINANCE AND TALKING DIRTY] 


The sound of your bedroom door creaking open and the shutters of your blinds getting pulled up had your eyes beginning to peal open, the sunlight shinning through the curtains had a hiss falling from your lips as you turn your body over to look at whomever decided to disturb you so early in the morning.

“Y/N what time did you go to bed last night?” Your mom questions as you hear her wining your window open. The sound of birds chirping and lawn mowers shaving long strands of grass begin to flutter into your ears.

“I don’t know, two maybe four in the morning?” You respond while groaning and throwing your head into your pillowcase, the softness of the pillow comforting you as you let a please sigh slip from your lips.

“Really Y/N! Why were you up so late?” Your mom ask with such frustration in her voice that your actually scared to look at her, but you’re actually relieved when she sits down at the foot of your bed and begins to rub your calf in her thigh.

“I was binge watching The Vampire Diaries sue me.” You say, voice muffled because of the pillow but your mom lets a tired sigh fall from her lips before pinching your calf gently.

“You shouldn’t be doing that. It’s bad for your body.” Your mom says, only leaving you to blink your eyes open and roll them.

“Ugh.” You groan before turning around in her grasp and looking up at her, the sunlight somewhat blinding your eyes.

“It’s the truth Y/N, anyways freshen up. Breakfast is downstairs and I need to talk to you also.” Your mom states while rising up and off the bed, her warm skin leaving your body, causing you to pout.

“What do we need to talk about?” You ask while raising up, your left hand coming up to cover your eyes from the beaming sun as you watch your mom begin to walk out of your door. “Come downstairs and you’ll find out.” Is the only thing she says, causing another groan to fall from your lips before you hear the door slam shut, making you stand and  walk out your bedroom and straight to the washroom.

You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face before you hop in the shower, the feeling of the warm water hitting your cool body had a please sigh slipping through your lips as you quickly washed up and hopped out.

You made your way into your room and quickly put on your under garments before lotioning your body up, the scent of coconut in the air as you walked over to your window with your towel wrapped around your body just in time to see your beautiful neighbor.

Just a few yards away from you, you saw Mr. Hemmings just getting out of the shower also, his body glistening with water as a white towel was loosely wrapped around his hips. His once blond hair now resting dark amongst his forehead, he brings his hand up and brushes it out of his face, making his body look so lean and slender.

A satisfied moan slipped from your lips as you watch Mr. Hemmings continue to paste around his room, continuously looking around for something that he lost. You watch as his body begins to walk towards the window that reflects yours, his arms reaching out and pulling open a drawer that is conjoined to his desk, his arm moving around like he is searching for the item before pausing and looking up towards you.

Keep reading

Just Remember

Alright, so, this is probably going to be my last Fic post in THIS blog, it will still be active, it will still post Voltron stuff, I just start posting the fics from my WRITER Blog, so everything is orginized and stuff :D

Anyways, I was having a shitty morning with myself so, I wanted to scream but I couldn’t bc I was in traffic and like, so many people around so I did the best thing: I wrote. 

Langst but also happy langst. Even Lance have these moments guys, they are valid and okay. 

Ps. Hope it’s not too hard or stressful to read? 

Disclaimer: Voltron dosen’t belong to me. 


Shiro’s disappointed glare.

Lance punches the bag.

Pidge’s annoyed roll of eyes.

Another punch followed by a kick.

Keith’s exasperated scoff.

Kick, punch, shout.

Hunk’s exhausted sigh.

Punch, kick, punch, tears.

Coran’s shake of head.

Tears, punch, shout.

Allura’s skeptical frown.

Screams.

Lance screams and shouts and curses. He lets it all out. He lets his words and shouts echo around as he falls to his knees in the middle of the training room. He hiccups as sobs shake his body. He doesn’t bother to wipe away his tears, he lets them fall to the ground and stain the mat below him.

He curses loudly and lividly for every part of him that makes him feel unworthy. He weakly punches the mat as he whimpers and his shoulders lose their strength.

Shiro’s disappointed glare turns into a concern one once he catches Lance’s weak whimpers as he cradles his own hand to his chest.

Frowning in worry, Shiro steps into the training room and takes a seat besides the brunet as Lance tries to hide his injured wrist.

“Lance, buddy, there’s no need to push yourself, I told you.” He reprimands gently, giving him a look when the brunet doesn’t allow him to get a better look of his wrist, “This training is new, you don’t need to be an expert the very same day you learn it.”

Lance sighs as he lets Shiro takes his wrist into his hands and the older teen inspects it carefully. and just hums dryly as an answer.

“Buddy, you’re already our sharpshooter, it’s okay to take your own pace as you learn to improve yourself.” Shiro says quietly after a few minutes in silence as he wraps Lance’s wrist in a white bandage, “You are getting used to the new form of your bayard, these things take time.”

“I know.” Lance answers softly, a small frown on his face, “But I feel like I’m letting you all down if I don’t learn to use it fast enough. What if we are in the battle field and because I still don’t know how to use or if I shot someone innocent or worse, one of you guys, by accident and -”

“Lance.” Shiro cuts off, not unkindly, “You’re our sharpshooter. The entire team and I have full faith in you.” He offers a proud smile at the brunet, “You would never miss a shot.”

Lance takes a deep breath as he let go of his abused lower lip. He sighs, wiping the thin line of blood coming from the corner of his mouth as he raises his head.

“It’s all in your mind.” Lance tells himself, placing a hand over his eyes to block out the light. “It’s all in your mind, it’s all in your mind. It’s okay. It’s valid. Just remember.”

The brunet takes a deep breath. “Just remember.”

He stays in silence for a little longer.

Pidge’s roll her eyes annoyed as Lance cheers in victory when the screen in the break room flashes the words of ‘Victory For Azul’ in big gold letters.

“Yeah, ok, you win this round, Mister.” Pidge says, shoving him by the arm, smirking when the brunet’s laughs, “I will win the next round, for sure.”

Lance chuckles as he raises his hand and ruffles Pidge’s wild bed hair. “We have been playing this game for like two hours, Pidge, aren’t you tired of me already?”

Pidge scoffs as if the mere question offended her. “Pick up your controller, Mr. Spanish; I’m kicking your ass.” She declares as she presses a few buttons and the screen shows the announcement of Round 4.

Pidge wins until Round 10.

Lance’s mouth twitches as his brain keeps filling him with the missing scenes with his team.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

He falls back on the mat and lays down, closing his eyes as he repeats his breathing exercise.

“You’re okay.” He breathes out softly, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Keith scoffs exasperated as he watches his boyfriend hog the entire blanket in their bed.

“Lance, no.” He whines, stomping his foot against the floor, “Stop hogging the blanket every time I go take a shower.”

“Nop.” Lance replies from the bottom of the mountain of blankets, “You’re the one who wants to train so late, bear the consequences, buddy.”

“Babe!” The black haired man shouts annoyed and Lance suppresses his snickers as Keith’s pouts.

“Nope.” He repeats gleefully before yelping in surprise when a body slams itself from above, successfully crushing him, “Keith!”

Keith laughs playfully as he lays above Lance comfortably on his stomach, meeting Lance’s bright blue eyes easily even in the darkness around them, “Hi there.”

Lance snorts before he smiles. “Hello, hello.” He answers softly, reaching towards his boyfriend and Keith quickly meets him halfway.

“You’re comfy.” Keith confesses quietly against his lips and Lance laughs.

“Oh, hush.” He says as he smiles and nuzzles his face against Keith lovingly.

Lance hums quietly under his breath as his breathing goes back to normal after a few minutes.

He taps the surface of the mat he’s lying in with the tip of his fingers, following the rhythm of the song he’s humming.

Hunk sighs exhausted as he takes in the sight of his best friend covered in food goo.

“Lance, buddy, what’cha doin’?” He asks, fighting back the grin that threatens to appear as the brunet blinks surprised.

“Uh…” He starts, voice trailing unsure, “The mice made me do it?”

Said group of mice squeak at the accusation before Hunk accepts his losing battle as he laughs.

“Let me guess?” Hunks say and Lance nods, waving his hand as permission, “You tried to make my goo cookies?”

A pause.

“No…?” Lance answers, smiling innocently as some goo falls from his hair and Hunk shakes his head.

“Dude, if you wanted some you could have just ask me.” He says, stepping into the kitchen and wiping some of the goo from his friend’s hair and then grabs a clean cloth from the counter.

Lance pouts as he accepts the cloth and wipes his face. “I didn’t want to bother you.” He confesses softly.

Hunk snort amusedly. “Buddy, baking, food and you will never be a bother for me.” He reassures, smiling big and bright at the sheepish brunet, “Now, come on! Let’s do some baking!”

“I heard baking!” Shiro’s shout echoes around them as the leader of Voltron slides into the kitchen with a bright smile, “I call dibs on Lance’s biscuits.”

“No, no, those are mine, Shiro!” Come Keith’s shout as the younger brother jumps on Shiro’s back to fight him.

Lance and Hunk start baking, ignoring the wrestling brothers on the floor.

The brunet takes his training gloves as he sighs calmly when the door of the training room opens and closes and steps makes their way towards him.

He doesn’t need to open his eyes to acknowledge the warm body lying beside him.

He takes Keith’s hand into his own in silence.

Coran shakes his head and Lance’s face fall.

“Hey, come on, now.” Coran says as soon as he notices the brunet’s sad eyes, “You are doing great, Lance! You got 9 out of 12 correct!” He praises, smiling big and proud at the brunet sitting in front of him.

Lance pouts. “Well yeah, but still, I’m still nowhere good. I can barely understand it! I will be a miracle if I’m ever able to speak it with you guys.”

Coran’s face softens at the words. “Oh, Lance, the mere fact you want to learn Altean is enough. Allura and I are so grateful that you are giving us this small time of normality that allows us to remember our roots.”

He leans forward to ruffle Lance’s head. “You’re doing great, mikró ílio.”

Lance blinks before he beams. “Little sun.” He translates softly and Coran smiles back just as brightly, pride clear in his eyes.

He doesn’t know how long they have been lying there, but at some point, Lance’s humming had stopped but Keith’s voice had filled in the silence, singing softly and quietly under his breath,

Lance allows himself to smile.

Allura’s skeptical frown turns into a confused one as Lance points at the corner of the screen.

“Okay, I understand your point, but wouldn’t it be easier to create a distraction and then just take the quintessence?” She asks and Lance taps his chin in deep thought.

“Well,” He starts, “It’s an option, but remember that the quintessence is something real valuable to the Galra, specially to Lotor now that Zarkon is out of commission. Their guards have been doubled since out last attack.”

Tapping twice into the screen, the video of their last mission appears. “See? The room is filled with druids plus some Galra Soldiers and the occasional Supervisor making rounds. A direct attack would only put them in higher alert even when some of us are sneaking in.”

“So sneaking in from the start is the best option.” Allura muses and Lance shrugs.

“It’s our best shot.” Lance declares, smiling when Allura nods her head at him and smiles.

“Well, you’re our sharpshooter, there’s no way we’re missing this.”

“Thank you, amor.” Lance says softly, turning his head to meet Keith’s face and his heart flutters when Keith’s blue eyes meet his own.

Keith stops his singing to smile gently at his boyfriend, “You okay?” He asks quietly, reaching out to brush Lance’s bangs away from his face and his eyes turn tender when the brunet nuzzles his face against his hand.

“Nah, my mind is still being a bitch.” Lance confesses, turning slightly to drop a small kiss against Keith’s palm, “But you being here kicks its ass, so I will be.”

“And I will be here.” Keith says, leaning forward to drop his own his against the brunet’s forehead.

“Thank you, amor.”