and the little flick she does with it when she twirls

Teacher (M)

Plot: Maybe asking your Korean teacher for help wasn’t such a bad idea. Good grades weren’t the only thing you were going to achieve from that.

Pairing: Teacher! Jung Hoseok x Student! reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Oral (receiving), Moaning denial, just full-on hardcore Jung Hoseok the sexy beast

Note: This is probably the first time I’m actually posting smut. It took me quite a while to write, considering it was very long, and I need to be in a certain mood for it. Thank you to my friend for giving me this idea. Please forgive me if there are any errors, english isn’t my first language. 3657 Words

P.S. You are 19 in this, and Hoseok is 25. I do not support all that underage sex stuff. Everything here is legal (wrong – please don’t fuck your teacher no matter how hot he is – but legal).

Korean Literature was probably your least favorite subject. You hated just everything about it – well – excluding the teacher. He always greeted you with a smile, asked you if you wanted help. You were the only foreigner in the class, after all. He gave you so much special attention, and you wouldn’t mind it at all. Unfortunately, that didn’t change your view on the subject. No matter how hard you tried, you always got a low grade.

“Okay students, remember we have a test on the new poem this Friday,” His voice echoed through your ears, breaking you out of your trance.

There was a solemn look on your face, while you stared out the window. Your eyes stayed on the uniformed kids flooding out of the school gates, while your nail dug under the staple holding your latest spelling test together.

5 out of 10. It was better than the last one.

No matter how bad it got, you always had this urge to try. You always wanted to keep studying for a higher score, but you just never seemed to understand everything that was thrown at you. It was like everything registered into your brain, but it never stayed – it disappeared, unlike your determination to do well.

As your eyes flickered over to the teacher, a nervous feeling settled in your chest. You now stayed after school for that exact reason. A few days ago, Hoseok had offered to help tutor you for an hour everyday until the test. It had been at least a week since he started, and you could safely say that you were getting better.

“Are you ready to start?” 

“Yeah.”

Keep reading

Possible Traits of Aspergers in Females

This by no means a comprehensive list, it is simply a reference point, not a diagnostic tool. If you identify with a majority of this list and wish to receive a diagnosis, consult a medical professional, preferably a specialist in autism spectrum disorders who has had experience diagnosing women.

  • Tends to analyze everything constantly
  • Often straightforward and practical in nature.
  • Often gets lost in own thoughts and zones out (may display a blank stare)
  • May appear naive or innocent (despite not being so)
  • Prone to honesty, has difficulty lying
  • May struggle to understand manipulation, disloyalty, vindictive behavior and retaliation.
  • May be gullible and easily taken advantage of, misled, or conned.
  • May have feelings of confusion and isolation in relation to others
  • Escapism frequently used to relax or avoid overwhelming situations.
  • Often holds fixations, obsessions, and extreme interest in specific topics.
  • Finds comfort in escaping through imagination, fantasy, and daydreaming.
  • Often has slower reaction times due to need for mental processing.
  • May have had imaginary friends as a child.
  • Frequently imitates (takes social cues from) people on television or in movies.
  • May obsessively collect, organize, count, categorize, or rearrange objects.
  • Often highly adapted to social imitation.
  • May find math and numbers easier to deal with due to logic and lack of objective answers.
  • May struggle to relax or rest due to many racing thoughts.
  • Often has comorbid conditions, such as OCD, anxiety, ADD or ADHD, depression, bipolar disorder, etc.
  • Often has sensory processing disorder (sight, sound, texture, smells, taste)
  • May have dyspraxia (Poor muscle tone, lack of coordination and depth perception)
  • May have dyslexia
  • May have an eating disorder or food obsessions
  • May have been misdiagnosed or diagnosed with other mental illness or possibly labeled a hypochondriac.
  • Tends to drop small objects
  • May frequently engage in “stimming” (self-stimulation) i.e., flicks fingernails, flaps hands, drums fingers, rubs hands/fingers, tucks hands under or between legs, clenches fists, twirls hair, taps foot/shakes leg, sways side to side, spins in circles, bouncing up and down, rocking, etc.
  • May use various noises to express herself rather than using words.
  • May have a tendency to over-share with friends and sometimes strangers
  • May have little impulse control when speaking
  • May accidently dominate conversation at times.
  • Often relates discussion back to self (sharing as a means of reaching out)
  • May be incorrectly seen as narcissistic
  • Often sounds eager or over-zealous at times.
  • May feels as if she is attempting to communicate “correctly.”
  • Often struggles with and is confused by the unwritten social rules of accurate eye contact, tone of voice, proximity of body, stance, and posture in conversation.
  • Eye contact often takes extreme focus, which may lead an individual’s eye contact to be darting and insufficient, or over-the-top staring/glaring.
  • May have difficulty regulating voice volume to different situations. Is frequently observed as being either too loud or too quiet.
  • Conversation, specifically small talk, can be exhausting.
  • May have trouble focusing on/engaging in conversation that is not centered on one’s primary interests.
  • May observe and question the actions and behaviors of self and others continually.
  • May have difficulty with back-and-forth conversation
  • Trained self in social interactions through readings and studying of other people.
  • Visualizes and practices how she will act around others and before entering various social situations.
  • Difficulty filtering out background noise when talking to others.
  • Has a continuous dialogue in mind that tells her what to say and how to act when in a social situations.
  • Sense of humor sometimes seems quirky, odd, or different from others.
  • As a child, it may have been hard to know when it was her turn to talk, may still be true as an adult.
  • Often finds the norms of conversation confusing.
  • Tend to say what they mean. Are often brutally honest, coming off as rude when they do not mean to be.
  • May feel misunderstood and tend to over-explain/ramble in an attempt to compensate for possible miscommunication.
  • Feels extreme relief when she doesn’t have to go anywhere, talk to anyone, answer calls, or leave the house.
  • Feelings of dread about upcoming events and appointments on the calendar.
  • Knowing she has to leave the house causes anxiety from the moment she wakes up.
  • The steps involved in leaving the house are overwhelming and exhausting to think about.
  • Must prepare herself mentally for outings, excursions, meetings, and appointments.
  • Question next steps and movements continually.
  • Often needs a large amount of down time or alone time.
  • May feel extremely self-conscious and uncomfortable in public locker rooms, bathrooms, or dressing rooms.
  • Tends to dislike being in crowded areas.
  • Difficulty sleeping due to sensitivity to environment
  • May be highly intuitive to others’ feelings, although may not appear to react to them ‘correctly’ in social situations
  • May take criticism and judgement very personally
  • May frequently adapt her viewpoints or actions based on others’ opinions
  • Dislikes words and events that hurt animals and people.
  • May have had a desire to collect or rescue animals, usually in childhood.
  • Often holds great compassion for suffering.
  • May try to help, offer unsolicited advice, or formalize plans of action.
  • Imitates others without realizing.
  • May exhibit codependent behaviors.
  • May frequently reject or question social norms.
  • Chameleon-like in social situations. Often switches preferences and behaviours based on environment and other people.
  • May outwardly appear to have little investment in hygiene, clothes, or appearance, often prefers fast and easy methods of style.
  • Clothing style is likely more focused on comfort and practicality, especially in the case of sensory issues.
  • May possess a youthful appearance and/or voice.
  • May have trouble recognizing what she looks like and/or has slight prosopagnosia (difficulty recognizing or remembering faces).
  • The emotions of oneself and others may seem confusing, illogical, and unpredictable.
  • Expects that by acting a certain way certain results can be achieved, but realizes in dealing with emotions, those results don’t always manifest.
  • Often speaks frankly and literally.
  • Certain kinds of humor, such as sarcasm and metaphors, may be difficult to understand.
  • Can be confused when others ostracize, shun, belittle, trick, and betray.
  • Often has trouble identifying feelings in others unless they are extreme.
  • Trouble with the emotions of hate and dislike.
  • May have feelings of pity for someone who has persecuted/hurt her.
  • Situations and conversations sometimes perceived as black or white.
  • The middle spectrum of outcomes, events, and emotions is sometimes overlooked or misunderstood. (All or nothing mentality).
  • May notices patterns frequently.
  • May be fascinated by words or song lyrics.
  • Tends to best remember/learn things in visual pictures (visual thinkers).
  • May have a remarkable memory for certain details, i.e., may find it surprisingly easy to remembers exact details about someone’s life.
  • Executive function is often a challenge
  • Learning to ride a bike or drive a car may be rather difficult.
  • Anything that requires a reasonable amount of steps, dexterity, or know-how can rouse a sense of panic.
  • The thought of repairing, fixing, or locating something can cause anxiety.
  • May have a hard time finding certain objects in the house, but remembers with exact clarity where other objects are.
  • May frequently second-guess oneself and ask a lot of questions before engaging a task or situation

This list was compiled from various personal accounts and symptom lists. It is subjective and does not include every identifiable trait. Nor is it entirely medically accurate. Please do your own research into AS before self-diagnosing. 

When reblogging, feel free to add additional traits you believe to be common in AS females that will be useful for others to know.

Let's Pretend (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 4!

A/N: ITS FINISHED! Part 4 is here y'all 🙌🏽 this is the last chapter before the epilogue )’: I put my heart and soul into this, it’s def my favorite chapter. Pls excuse the misspelling, I’m too hyped when i type. YALL GET SOME HOLY WATER READY!

Warnings: Sex, Daddy Kink, Role Playing, Rough Sex, Pornography.

[a special thank you to @thatweirdgaygirl and @bucky-sempai for letting me name these two characters after them. Y'all the real NVP (’:]

Xxxxxxxx

“Are you sure about this, doll?” Bucky asks before turning on the webcam. The bright blue background of Skype illuminated the room. It was risky business if the team ever found out about this. Not to mention Fury would have a field day with you two as well. And if the press got ahold of this? Man, you two would be shamed by everyone for the rest of your lives. By all means, you really should NOT do this.

But where’s the fun in that?

With a nod, you planted a kiss on Bucky’s cheek before turning back to the computer screen. The subtle ringing of the Skype call faded away and instead, the blue screen was replaced by the two shapeshifting owners of Let’s Pretend.

Xxxxxxxx

“Are you serious?” Molly asks, her eyes wide with with shock. You let out small giggle at how adorable she is. Beside her, her friend Nina sat slack jawed, staring at Bucky with pure admiration. It felt like you two were some big time celebrities that were meeting your biggest fans.

“We’ve put a lot of thought into it,” Bucky says, subconsciously licking his lips. Nina’s cheeks instantly went cherry red as her eyes tracked every movement. “And we figured, why not? It’s not everyday you come across something like this.”

“We’re totally down with this!” Molly says, reaching behind her and pulling out a small notebook. After flicking through most of the pages, she finally settles on one page. “How’s the seventeenth sound?”

“Perfect!” You and Bucky say in unison.

Everything was going smoothly.

Xxxxxxxx

Bucky stuck the key in the ignition and turned it, the Ferrari roared to life. You convinced Tony to let you use one of his magnificent cars in his garage for a “date” you two were going on. Only that date would be on the uh…physical side. Of course, Bucky had to pick the most expensive car in the garage which had to be Tony’s beloved royal blue Ferrari.

The plan was: You and Bucky would rent a nice hotel and film your own video (Bucky may or may not have stolen one of Tony’s cameras from his lab.) and send it to Molly and Nina once you’ve finished.

The catch was: Molly and Nina would make two more videos on their own, and all at once, they’ll release all three videos, informing the site that one of the three videos is the real Bucky Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N. It was perfect.

After giving them your sizes and measurements, Molly and Nina sent you three different little lingerie outfits to wear for the video. After picking one out, one of them would wear the others for the other two videos.

You decided on the quite revealing Captain America lingerie set. The bra was a navy blue, with the American flag print on the padded part. The matching thong was decorated with little Captain America shields. It even came with a little shield, too. You could just see the blush on poor Steve’s face as he watched the video. After pulling into the hotel parking lot, both of you grabbed your duffle bags filled with the things you would need and headed straight inside.

You purposely purchased the penthouse room (with Tony’s card). If you were going to do this, you’d want it done in the classiest way possible. You and Bucky had discussed what you both were and weren’t comfortable with. You found that Bucky’s kinks consisted of:

Hair pulling - he really enjoyed it.

Dominance - after all, he was his own person now. It would only make sense for him to be a dominant person.

Daddy Kink - He didn’t admit it willingly, but you figured it out when you both watched the Twister video. Bucky liked being called Daddy, so you were going to be screaming it a lot tonight.

The elevator ride was nerve wrecking for you. It all came down to the fact that in a few minutes, you were going to have sex with Bucky Barnes. It’s not that you weren’t excited -God no- it was just that you weren’t a friends with benefits type of person. That just didn’t float your boat. Neither of you ever brought it up, but you actually would like to be in a relationship with Bucky. You just didn’t know if he felt the same, given his womanizing reputation.

With a small mechanic chime, the elevator doors opened and you both stepped out. Hopefully, this was going to be an amazing night.

Xxxx

You stood in front of the bedroom mirror, admiring the way the navy blue material of the thong complemented your soft skin and the way the lacy thong made your ass look fantastic. You looked just like the fake Y/N.

Suddenly, you could hear the bathroom door opening. You didn’t want to spoil the surprise, so you grabbed one of the hotel bathrobes and slipped it on. But all your nervousness was replaced with arousal as soon as you caught a sight of Bucky.

He was wearing his combat suit, but…not the one you were used to him being in. Instead of his usual attire, he was wearing his 1940’s military suit. The same one Steve always told you about.

And sweet mother Mary, he looked fucking gorgeous.

“Bucky… you look…wow!” You breathed, placing a hand over your heart. This man was literally taking your breath away.

He let out a nervous laugh. “It feels so weird wearing this. This uniform’s almost eighty years old.” He ran his metal hand over the material, fumbling with the buttons. You couldn’t wait to see him without those clothes on.

“What are you hidin’ underneath there, doll?” He asks, stepping closer. You watch as he gently runs a hand over the small string that’s holding your robe closed, twirling it with his fingers playfully. You could feel the warmness radiating off of his body. You ached for him, and yet you weren’t even naked yet.

His fingers hooked from underneath the material and slowly pulled it apart from your body. You’ve never seen the man so shellshocked before and it threw you off at first.

“D-does it look okay?” You ask, letting the material slip off your shoulders and puddle at your feet. You turned around slowly, showing off your backside. But he wasn’t responsive at all. His eyes were trained on the little shields on your thong, wide as if they were speaking to him.

Anxiety filled you as each second went by. Did he not like it? Did you go too far? What if-

“Doll,” he whispers. He brushed his fingertips over your hips, feeling the soft skin. “You look fucking beautiful.”

Not only is it the words that send shivers down your spine, it’s the way he says it. His voice was deeper, full of lust and a hint of possessiveness. He wanted you. And who were you to deny him of that?

Without another word, you leaned forward, crushing your lips against his. The kiss was filled with so many emotions that you’d never felt before and it drove the both of you crazy. You felt his hands snake their way to your behind and knead into the soft flesh. You let out a gasp, opening your mouth just the right amount for him to force his tongue inside.

Before it could get any better, you felt him pull away.

“We can’t,” he says, his eyes glued to your lips. “Let me set the camera up, at least.” You groaned. Damn it, Barnes.

Xxxxxxx

“Oh, Bucky,” you gasped dramatically and fall onto the bed, your tiny shield in hand. “I think I’ve been hit!”

Bucky smirks before putting on a concerned expression, leaning down beside you. “Oh no, Captain,” he exclaims. “The next hospital is ten years away! We’ll never make it in time!”

You let out a snort, breaking character for a split second, before you straighten yourself up again.

“It looks like you’ll have to help your Captain until we get there!” You say with a wink at the camera.

Bucky tried to hide the grin on his face as he kneeled into the bed, planning his hands on either side of your body. “Tell me, Captain Y/N,” he says seductively. “What should I do?”

You let out another dramatic sigh and wrap your hands around his shoulders. “Distract me, Barnes! The pain is just….too much for me!”

At this point, both of you are giggling like children as he slowly slips off the bed, pulling your body with him. He spreads your legs wide, giving the camera a crystal clear view of your clothed flower.

“Anything for my Captain Y/N,” he says and hooks his finger underneath the material of the thong and pulls it down your legs. Once he gets them off, he runs his metal hand along your glistening slit. You let out a gasp as he experimentally rubs your clit in small circles.

“Oh, Bucky,” you sigh, this time it’s real and it feels amazing. Gaining confidence, he leans forward and gently blows onto your pussy. You let out a small cry at the dueling sensations. This man was driving you completely insane.

“No more teasing…daddy.” You whisper.

It’s as if a switch flicked on in Bucky; his blue eyes darkened lustfully at the name. He leaned in and flattened his tongue against your clit, flicking it back and forth.

You had been eaten out before many times, but THIS. This was mind numbing pleasure that only Bucky was able to give you. Those before him didn’t even stand a chance. You let out a loud moan, your hands flying straight to the uniform hat on his head.

You lifted it up and set it on your own head, smirking at his shocked expression, before lacing your fingers through his hair and yanking his face back into your heat. You grind your hips into his face, earning a groan from Bucky.

“That’s it, daddy,” you whimpered. “Eat your Captain’s pussy.”

He let out another groan at your filthy words. He shook his head from side to side, creating the most delicious sensation.

“Oh my god,” you squeaked. The sounds his tongue made against your slit created a loud, obscene sound that grew louder with each minute.

As you felt your orgasm near, Bucky pulled away. His mouth glistened with your juices, which he licked from his lips. It was by far the dirtiest thing you’ve seen and you loved every minute of it.

Standing, he slowly unbuttoned the jacket and slid it off his shoulders. You slid your hand between your legs and inserted a finger inside yourself as you watched him strip.

Next was his shirt. He undid each button painfully slow, teasing you without even touching your body. That little shit. He slipped the material off and tossed it away, leaving him completely shirtless. It’s as if somehow he was able to get more and more attractive each time.

After that, he wasted no time unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them down his legs, and to your surprise (and pleasure) he wasn’t wearing boxers this time.

You knew the serum enhanced everything his body, but you couldn’t help but think of when Steve had once it slip that the serum enhanced his uh…”reproductive organs” as he called them. So if Bucky was a solid seven or so inches back then, it would make sense that he would be as big as he was now.

You got a full view of the ten inches that was Bucky’s cock, leaking pre cum from the tip. You felt your core ache even more the longer you stared. You needed him and you needed him now.

“What are you waiting for, Barnes?” You tease, licking your lips. “You’re not scared of your Captain, are you?”

In a flash, he was on top of you, pinning your wrists to the bed. The tiny shield in your hand has plopped onto the bed beside you. Bucky leaned in to you, centimeters from your lips before whispering:

“Oh honey, you’re the one that should be afraid. I’m gonna fucking destroy you.”

With that, he slammed into you without warning. You let out a scream, one that sounded straight out of a porn movie. You couldn’t help but think how natural this felt for you.

Bucky began thrusting in and out of your hole at a brutal pace. Your hand slipped under his biceps, holding onto him for dear life. He was showing no mercy as he drilled you into the mattress. The sounds skin against skin and your cries of pleasure was the only audible thing in the room. Bucky was fucking you hard and you loved every second of it.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you howled. “Make me yours!”

Bucky let out a growl and pulled out of you completely. He hastily hooked his hands underneath your legs and placed them on his shoulders, before leaning back down to slam his mouth onto yours.

He slid back inside of you and began thrusting his hips into you with as much force as possible. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of your hole made the most obscene sounds, but looking up at him, you could tell he loved it. And you loved that he loved it, too.

Your hands lifted the bra on your chest upwards, just enough so your breasts were out from underneath. You knew he loved the way they looked in it. He bent his head and took your left nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. He hummed, sending little vibrations through you.

At this point, tears had begun forming in your eyes. It all was too much for you. It felt so amazing. You were getting closer and closer to the edge, but you wanted Bucky there with you when it happened.

“Daddy….I'm….I…..”

Bucky lifted his head and pressed a kiss onto your lips, shutting you up. When he pulled away, he ran his tongue against your bottom lip hungrily.

“You’re gonna come all over daddy’s cock like a good little slut, hm?” He cooed. You nodded,

“Answer. Me.” He growls, thrusting significantly harder with each word. Your head fell back against the bed and you nodded.

That was all he needed to hear.

Bucky placed all his weight onto his forearms that were on both sides of your head and began thrusting at a new angle.

Your eyes widened as you felt the tip of his cock hitting that special place that was your g-spot over and over again.

“That’s it,” Bucky let out a strained chuckle. He was getting closer, his hips stuttering with each thrust.

With a scream of his name, your orgasm hit you like a frieght train. Tears of pleasure were falling from your eyes, your body trembling underneath his as his orgasm followed. Bucky groaned loudly, biting into the flesh of your shoulder. It should’ve hurt, but in the moment, all you could feel was pure euphoria.

Bucky had literally destroyed you, just like he said he would.

Both of you stayed like that for what felt like hours. Your hands ran through his hair, gently massaging his scalp with your fingers.

“Holy shit,” he sighed into your neck. You hummed in agreement. You were positive you lost your voice from the screaming. Your neighbors were probably calling the police.

“Y/N,” he says quietly.

“Yes, James,” you reply tiredly. It was a simple mistake. You were exhausted and you tend to get a bit loopy. He smiled into your neck at the sound of his first name. After a long silence, he finally says it.

“Go out with me?”

The question causes your heart to nearly stop. You couldn’t fight the grin that spread on your face even if you tried. You turn to look him in the eye, his cheek rested on your shoulder as he waits for you. You couldn’t help but notice how fucking handsome adorable he looked now with his lustful facade gone.

“Of course, you dork.” You giggle.

The sound of the camera beeping causes the both of you to look over at it. You sigh and place your head back on the pillow. Bucky crawled off of you and propped himself up with his arm.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you literally fuck her brains out!” He says with a wink and does finger guns at the camera. You giggle and pull him into another kiss.

Xxxxxx

Epilogue Will be here tomorrow 😭❤️❤️

Tag List (of Super Cool People)

@harleyscheekheart @seb-smut @justareader @aisabel7 @typical0001 @loveyourselfcreateyourself @uninspiredjedi @miraisnotavailable @the-winter-avengerrrrr @mystery94 @ballerinafairyprincess @mycapt-ohcapt @harrisbn @jasontoddismydaddy @amrita31199 @megandrawsspace @stormyfandoms @supersoldier-buckybarnes @writemarvelousthings @brutalwerewolf @ifyouseekatex @kaitskennedyy @cecifina @simplyme8308 @jasura @genlovesdcb @milychetto

@xxchexchickxx
a little like writing or loving

for nursey week, day 2: “surprise or simplicity.”


“If that pen explodes in your mouth,” Dex says from the bathroom doorway, “I am not gonna feel bad for you.”

Derek startles–and does drop the pen out of his mouth–and looks up. “What?”

Dex cocks a brow at him, flicking off the bathroom light and flopping down on the hotel bed next to Derek’s. “You’ve had two pens explode in your mouth from chewing on them like that,” he says. His red hair is wet, tousled from where he must’ve run his hands through it after his shower, and he rolls onto his stomach, propping himself on his elbows to look at Derek. “What’re you glaring at, anyway?”

Keep reading

mr. sandman

[steve trevor x reader]

author’s note: most of the time when i write, i don’t plan for things to get that long but i always get carried away wtf. this happens with essays too i don’t understand. anyway, i think i kind of like this one, which is unusual for me to say of my stuff lol, but i do hope you enjoy

word count: 2,037

Keep reading

Just Pretend?

Requested by @evilqueen729 69: “Just pretend to be my date”.  

Feysand - modern au, Nessian wedding


“Come on, Feyre, please?” Rhys begs, catching Feyre off guard for a good two seconds, seeing a grown, strong man begging. She quickly recovers, however, flipping her hair as she studies her dress in the mirror.

“Don’t come crying to me last minute, Rhysand, you should have figured out this problem a long time ago.” Feyre answers, intent not to ever agree to any deal involving Rhysand Night, her outspoken enemy but somehow the best friend of her sister’s fiancee.

She is about to walk away from him when Rhys steps into her path, hands raised to stop her from going anywhere. “You don’t understand, Cassian just told me that she was invited, and I was planning on going solo tonight but now, that’s not possible unless we want there to be a scene.”

Feyre puts her hands on her hips. “Just get any other girl to pretend to be your girlfriend for the night, I’m sure there are at least ten listening at the door right now, eager for the chance.” She comments bitterly.

Rhys doesn’t even glance away from her eyes. “That’s the point. With you, there are no expectations, just pretend. Please, Feyre,” He literally gets on his knees. “I’m on my knees, begging you. Just pretend to be my date. One night.”

Feyre studies him for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons. It would keep potential creeps away from her, but would also ward off any cute guys that might notice her as maid of honor. It would also be feeding into the best man screws maid of honor stereotype, but she would love to see the look on the other girls’ faces when they saw them walk in together, as a couple. Not to mention it would be hilarious to see the reaction of this crazy ex-girlfriend of his.

Finally, Feyre sighs. “One night, Rhysand, and I’m not sleeping with you either, so don’t even think about it.”

A brilliant smile lights up Rhys’ face and Feyre can’t help but feel that this is a terrible idea.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do a drabble for Jily with number 23 or 29 I can't pick? Thank you!

“at it like bunnies”

#23: “The skirt is supposed to be short.”

modern muggle au <3

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.” Lily says, indignant.

Marlene just sniggers. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your eyebrows did.” Lily inspects herself in the mirror one more time and then turns to face her friend and housemate.

“You look great, can we go now?” Marlene asks, finishing off the bottle of wine in her hand in one take.

“Is she ready?” Mary pops her head around the door, looking hopeful. Lily frowns at both of them. “Aw, don’t be like that Lils, you’ve been an hour.”

“We’re prinking!”

“No, you’re primping.” Marlene just manages to dodge the cushion Lily throws at her.

“Fine then, let’s go.” Lily grabs her bag and pulls Marlene up from the bed.

“She’s ready!” Mary yells as they head downstairs, and the responding cheer from the kitchen makes Lily frown again.

Marlene slings a comforting arm around her shoulder. “We love you really.”

If this was a normal night, Lily would have been ready a long time ago. As it stands though, it’s a fancy dress night and she has a plan. So she accepts the teasing from her friends as they do one last shot and then leave, heading towards the pub, because she knows it will all be worth it.

Except it’s not, not immediately anyway. The first pub, their usual, is packed full of other uni students in fancy dress, all in varying degrees of effort. A pack of boys have stretched their student budget to buy banana outfits whilst, next to them, two girls are wearing black dresses with wooden placards around their next, informing Lily they’ve been arrested for public disturbance. Tegan scowls when she sees them, because she too has opted for the jailbird look but, unlike them, has gone full out.

Mary, barely a ladybug with a red dress and some wings, orders the first round. It helps Lily ignore the fact that the reason she’s wearing her ridiculous get up isn’t in the pub. It does not help her ignore the two leering freshers, Thing 1 and Thing 2, who are clearly making bets about which one of them can get her number. Leering was to be expected though and, like the teasing, Lily takes it because it will be worth it, no one’s got the guts up yet to actually approach her and because in an outfit like hers, she can’t say she wouldn’t stare either.

It had been Marlene’s idea, and Lily had agreed both because she was desperate and because she’d known she’d look good. And she does. The skirt, as short as humanely possible without showing her arse, and the heels, too high for her own good, make her legs look endless. It’s a look that could kill.

It’s also a look, apparently, which boosts her alcohol tolerance and self assurance. So, by the time they reach a club, despite the several rounds of shots and jaeger bombs, she manages to get passed the bouncers without stumbling once. They dance for what feels like hours, Lily spinning with Mary and Tegan and almost breaking her ankle when she drops to the floor during Low with Gemma. Marlene vanishes and returns with a boy, yelling to the girls that he’s got a party at his house.

They go and Lily has almost forgotten why she is wearing what she’s wearing. Then she steps into the boy’s living room and she remembers.

He’s dancing on the other side of the room, with Sirius, of course, and he looks beautiful. Maybe it’s the disco lighting. Maybe it’s the leather jacket he’s wearing. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s in love with him. Whatever it is, he’s never looked fitter and Lily almost runs out of the room before he can get a chance to see her.

Keep reading

A Lesson in Love (Knight in Shining Armor)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,447

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Bucky’s blurbs are straight from my journal (with some alterations).

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstoriesI think this part will forever be my favorite one in the series just because you edited it while sitting right next to me, instead of on the other side of the country.

Originally posted by kingsebastian

The air is filled with the sound of music and the smell of food being cooked. The music might be a little too loud and the strong aroma of food is making your stomach growl, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Why does Wanda get to pick what we listen to today,” Natasha whines from her spot at the counter where she’s cutting a cucumber.

“Because you chose last time,” Wanda counters. Stirring a pot at the stove leaves her in the perfect position to reach for the radio and raise the volume even louder. Natasha winces and you laugh, finding amusement in all of this.

“I thought girls’ night was supposed to make me happy, not make me wish I was anywhere but here,” the redhead complains. You ignore her, knowing she doesn’t mean it.

Keep reading

Rose x Ten, post GitF-au/fixit; angst, fluff, romance, more angst, and possibly some smut later, but this part (and all parts on ff.net) is sfw (minor exception for brief language).

(see the end of this part for notes and special thanks)

(full-size image)

Minuet, Part II

Part I | Part II | Part III

Twisting in his grasp, Rose cranes her neck to look at him, finally, and there he is, all furrowed brow and tight mouth and eyes glittering with anger, and god, if she wasn’t so irritated with him right now, she just might kiss him.

“That’s what you were going to do, isn’t it?” she asks instead.

***

Eyes widening, the Doctor only has a moment to let his mouth drop open in surprise before another gentleman steps in—time to change dance partners. Rose slips into position with the newcomer without so much as a blink or even a glance in the Doctor’s direction, never faltering in her rhythm; a quick peek at the Doctor moments later tells her that he has allowed himself to be swept up in the tide of dancers, sidling up to his new partner across the room.

Rose turns away, swirling in her partner’s arms, but she can feel the eyes of the Doctor boring into her. She shivers despite the summer heat.

“That’s beside the point,” he whispers when they meet again, touching palm-to-palm first with one hand, then the other. “I’m a Time Lord.”

“Really? First I’ve heard of it,” Rose replies drily.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, Rose. A very long time. I understand the risks.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “And stupid apes don’t.”

At least the Doctor has the decency to flinch at those words. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Of course it is,” Rose sighs, and they both step back, granting a berth for other dancers to flit gracefully between them. “After all,” Rose continues when they reconnect, hands clasped, “I’m hardly one of the most accomplished women who ever lived, am I?”

Keep reading

CYOSTODA - Part Two: Dean Picks Dare

Characters: Dean, Leah, Sam, and Reader

Location: Motel room, Crappsville, USA

Word Count: 1205

Warnings: Swearing

Following on from Part 1 by @littlegreenplasticsoldier, where you get into a game of Truth or Dare with Dean, Sam, and their motel neighbour, Leah.  You’ve just asked Dean Truth or Dare.

CYOSTODA Mastermess here

Originally posted by stunning-i

Dean’s staring at you, those gorgeous green eyes flitting over your face, and you can see the wheels turning, can practically smell the smoke. He locks eyes with yours as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you fight your urge to follow it’s path so hard you can feel your eyeballs shake with the effort. Dean smirks at you, like he knows full well what he’s doing to you, which let’s face it, he probably does.

“Dare.” he finally says, low and sure.

Keep reading

Aeonian AU Series part 1

A Nessian Greek Mythology based fic and a darker twist to this ship. There will be this Aeonian series (Nessian) and an Antiscians series (Elorcan). 


“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

Aeonian 1

“Poor Nesta,” Ianthe chided. “No longer a virgin.”

Nesta’s fingers wrapped around her fork, gripping the cold metal tightly.

“No God would want a deflowered woman,” the blond crooned. “Especially one who does know her place.”

Nesta stabbed a piece of salad, and shoved it into her mouth. Chewing slowly on the hard leaves, she quelled the chaotic waves surging within her. She refused to give into her anger—to allow Tomas to have the last hold on her.

“You always talked about not wanting a God.” The blond-haired smiled, sharp as a blade. “I guess Tomas Mandray really did you a favor.”

That was the last straw for Nesta. Yes, no God would want to claim a non-virgin—which was perfectly fine with her, especially after all Feyre had been accounted for, still missing to this day— but for Ianthe to dare—have the audacity to—rub assault in her face, even from the dark times of three years ago—

The eldest Archeron sister twirled the fork in her fingers, staring hard at the yellow leaves and squished fruit in front of her. It was against the law to attack a priestess, and an even greater sin to murder the village’s Head Priestess.

But no one said anything against accidents.

With a flick of her wrist, Nesta sent the fork flying out her hands and at Ianthe’s right eye.

A perfect execution.

A warning that a line had been crossed.

A loud gasp escaped from Nesta’s mouth, and she lunged forward, knocking Ianthe to the floor. The High Priestess’s shrill pierced the air, and Nesta moved quickly, digging the edge of the fork deeper, twisting the metal. Even through the metal, she could feel the edges grinding against the root, white and pink liquid swirling.

“I’m so sorry!” Nesta cried, slipping on a mask of horror, climbing over the other female. “I can’t pull it out.” Her hair fell across her face, a shadowed curtain—and she allowed Ianthe to see the dark smile cutting across hers face, sharper and deeper than any mortal blade.

For three years, the darkness’ isolation cultivated into something icier and harsher—a ghost of a phantom whirling within her. She’d shown Ianthe just a pinch.

As the High Priestess shrieked, bodyguards stormed into the diner, clad in plates of metal, faces shadowed by a thick black mask. Nesta allowed the memories of three years ago to consume her, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Loosening her grip on the fork, she curled into herself, rocking on her heels.

The nearest guard grabbed her elbows and set her roughly onto her feet.

“What the hell happened?” he gruffly ordered, shaking her shoulders.

Ianthe let out a hiss, but Nesta’s contempt was a gaping abyss full of raw will.

The eldest Archeron sister harshly rubbed away stray tears seeping down her cheeks, and forced down the sick smile threatening to erupt across her face. “The High Priestess came out of nowhere—” Nesta hiccuped “—my reflexes spun out of control—”

“Psychopath!” Ianthe screeched. “Chain her! Whip her!”

When the guard reached out for her, Nesta collapsed onto her knees, and laid her palms against the Priestess’s heart. “Forgive me,” she loudly cried. “I meant no malice.”

She leaned in closer to Ianthe’s face, as if she were to kiss her cheeks, the fallen woman sobbing and shuddering. Nesta brushed a finger against the golden-haired woman’s forehead as an almost tender caress, and wrapped her hand around the emblem pinned to Ianthe’s robes. Pressing her lips against the High Priestess’ ear, Nesta whispered, “Now you can see darkness.”

Ianthe kicked upwards; Nesta rolled off of the blue-robed woman.

Ianthe’s trembling fingers grasped the hilt of the fork. Blearily staring up through her left eye, she ordered, “Put her in an empty cell!”

The guard trapped Nesta’s wrists, tugging her away from the High Priestess. Little did they know they were trying to cage and corner a wildcat, bred from the savageness only the true seers of society saw.

Nesta schooled her features into a blank, empty face, struggling within the solid grip. She spared a glance towards the blue-robed woman. “The only cells missing are those in your eye.”

Stepping over the boots and knocking herself forward as she were tripping, Nesta twisted herself out of the guard’s grasp, using the falling momentum to bring the guard down on his back.

Plates of metal lumbered towards her, and Nesta tore out the the diner, blocking the sounds of Ianthe’s feeble cries of my eye, my eye, my eye over and over again.

Fixing her sleeve, a darker and sharper smile shot over Nesta’s face.

She didn’t even have to pay for that shit excuse of a meal.


Nesta stole through the night and into the forest. Here, the darkness draped over her already black-clad frame. She knew this path at the back of her mind, weaving through thick tree trunks and sailing over high-branched roots. Slowly, the heavy clanging sounds of armor receded from her ears, but Nesta picked up her pace.

This was the seventh village Elain and Nesta had taken refuge in—ever since Feyre had been taken three years ago and Tomas had yanked her into a barn, both Archeron sisters turned into wanderers, fleeing with the wind. Trust was reduced to bread crumbs, and even they could barely afford for the tiniest slice.

What God had taken Feyre—Nesta had no idea, but had her suspicions. It had been any other morning, Nesta serving buttermilk pancakes while Elain had went up to fetch Feyre from the drawing room. Rather than seeing their middle sister painting with her hair twisted up into a messy bun, the stench of alcohol and grapes had permeated the room.

Elain had screamed. Nesta came up running with a knife in her hand.

Feyre’s hunting clothes had been strewn all over the floor, a purplish-green scrap of fabric littering across a canvas. It was as if the their middle sister had given them a warning and a signal that she’d been claimed—by a God.

When Gods claimed humans, they dressed them in their ornamental colors and symbols. Yet green and purple were common colors, even found among the varying masses of minor Gods.

It was then Nesta banished all hope of desiring to be claimed by a God. She’d once dreamed among the others to be one with another force, to see through another set of eyes, and to ascend their mortal limits.

She’d once set apples and pears along the mantle of Athena, the one God she’d revered the most. Three years ago, she’d pray to the God of Wisdom, asking for guidance. Now all she did was pray to the minor Gods of vengeance and fear, demanding divine retribution for those who had wronged her—because it hadn’t just been her who’d been afflicted and twisted.

Nesta had watched Elain spiral into the coldness as well. The youngest Archeron no longer made honeyed offerings to Demeter, the goddess of the Earth. She instead grew darker roses and pricked her fingers as if lines of blood served as her penance.

It was as if the darkness of the demons had descended upon the Archeron sisters.

No happiness, no protection, no understanding.  

A branch snagged the sleeve of her arm, and Nesta hissed. Despite this village’s soldier pursuing her and having to move to another village, she felt oddly safe and warm.

Perhaps it was because she’d stolen the golden emblem from the High Priestess, the coin tucked securely under her sleeve. The price would last them another to journey to another village.  

The moon casted swirls strange colors of white against the darkness and the green of the forest. She slowed to a walk, taking in her surroundings. The branches reached low, casting estranged shadows that curved and murmured unspoken cacophonies the human ear tuned out. Nesta slowly angled her body and slid through a cluster of vines.

The myths had become reality a long time ago, the Gods deciding to end their supposed boredom in waiting. The beginnings of their reappearance into society was often bloody, jealously in both claiming humans rampant and in being desired to be claimed.

Their father had worshipped Hermes, the messenger God, and named the Archeron fortune in his name. Nesta had considered it justice when a business company across the sea had sunk their father’s ship, and had stolen every commodity on board.

Their father had never returned the sail back, a merchant worshipping the God of Thieves saw the end, robbed of life and fortune.

The obsession with the Gods had seen the decline in family values, many children left alone or pitted against each other. Their father had been no exception, travelling to Athens, Greece, in hope of appeasing the Gods.

Death had been his answer.

While Nesta believed it to be foolish to devote a lifetime in praying for Gods, the higher beings indeed chose humans. Those taken under their wing received immortality. It could be eons before Feyre would be brought back to them willingly and unwillingly, and there was a high chance Nesta and Elain would be six feet under in a coffin or reduced to ashes by that time.  

It had taken Feyre’s kidnapping for Nesta to realize that being trapped in a powerful body with no regard for lesser creatures and their emotions and past was something she did not want.

So she stopped praying and stopped her offerings.

Elain had followed suit.

Both sisters had been shunned from the original village in consequence.

Now that Nesta harmed Ianthe, it looked like they’d have to move again. Whisperings of rumors and fault had followed the Archeron sisters as they travelled, and it never seemed the words would never cease.

Cursed.

Yet solace stirred within her, and Nesta scowled at the false sense of security crawling within her.

Elain would be beyond worried by now. Nesta knocked away the thin branches and ducked under a canopy of large ivies she knew would reveal a large clearing only a couple of meters away from their temporary home. Soon, she’d be running in the veil of the night, holding Elain’s thin hands again.

Her head rammed into steely hardness.

She rubbed her nose and slowly backed up.

Seething, Nesta untucked a dagger hidden under her sleeve, and pushed the wall forward with her other hand.

It didn’t move.

Squinting through the darkness, Nesta realized that streaks of red pooled down silver plates, sheer power exuding from the figure.

A soldier.

The amount of blood could only mean a dead man.

But if a soldier was here, then the chances of Elain’s safety was very low. She had to get out of here.

Cursing under her breath, she turned around back under the canopy, but a gloved hand with a huge, red jewel pulsating at the center lashed out and captured her wrist.

It was a solid grasp, almost crushing her bones.

This was not the ordinary soldier’s strength. And it was a very much alive man.

She dropped the dagger into her other hand and sliced it vertically towards the hand.

Her blade merely bounced off, falling to the ground.

With a yank, the hand jerked her back against a chest of steel and coldness. Yet Nesta felt warmth pour over every vein and crevice in her body.

The male towered over her, dark, hazel eyes cramming into her own soul, sheer strength emanating from him, broad shoulders with muscles roping around an enormous form.

A purebred, dangerous warrior.

Those piercing orbs raked over her from the bottoms of her torn boots over her clothes and under the slope of her breasts up to her collarbone and into her own stormy eyes. Black boots, black pants, black sleeves—and if he looked close enough, he’d see a black painted heart.

A brow flicked up. “Whose funeral?”

Nesta shuddered at the low, husky voice that shot down her spine. She refused to be weak again, the last time she was in a male’s embrace three years ago.

“Get off me,” she hissed instead, and squirmed fruitlessly in his grasp.

His dark inked hair and ruggedly shaven face rang a bell, but Nesta didn’t care, not when Elain had been alone far too alone. The predatory glint in the male’s face heightened memories of three years ago, but her body remained strangely calm and soothed.

“That’s no way to treat a God.”

Nesta realized the blood seeping from the armor was not from the male’s, but a head hanging from the canopy above, and raining down.

Nesta arched her own brow. “I’d suggest planning his funeral soon.” She could see the outlines of the dead body strung along vines and branches, gutted and torn apart.

The male shrugged. “If you want to plan a murdering liar’s funeral, then be my guest.” The arm around her waist hitched up to rub circles across her back, almost daring her to string the body back to pieces.

Nesta didn’t find the action disturbing, but rather reassuring. Perhaps he was a minor god in infatuation or magic along those lines.

A dangerous smile appeared on those rough-hewn features, as those seemingly pulsing eyes studied her. “I like women who can handle blood.”

“I like men who can respect boundaries.” Nesta damned her cover and swore if he didn’t let her go, she’d scream—even if it meant drawing the village’s soldiers here.

The male seemed to read her thoughts. “You think humans are match for a God?”

Nesta didn’t reply, and cursed her own traitorous body sinking into the comfort and warmth the male seemed to offer.

He leaned in closer, a hand stroking her hair. “A match for the God of War?”

Nesta’s eyes widened. “You lie.”

“Now why would I lie, sweetheart?” The God leaned down and brushed his mouth against her ear. “Especially to one I want to claim?”

Another last straw for Nesta. She lashed out, but the God easily cupped her knee cap with one hand—just hovering over the V of his hips—and the other hand flattening a palm against her back.

“A cheap shot.” A grin.

Nesta went up on her toes, her hands cupping the God’s cheek. His skin was warm and sent delicious trills down her. The God leaned down as well, his eyes darkening a low growl erupting from his throat, and hands folding around her waist. Just before his lips closed on hers, Nesta’s knee collided with her aim.

It was a pity his armor covered his torso as the God doubled over in pain, a foul curse leaving his mouth.

Nesta didn’t wait before she sprinted around the clearing and to the house where Elain was waiting. Running past the locked front door, she hurdled over a bush into the back.

Slipping through the window and into their shared room, Nesta grabbed her bag, stuffing the nearest clothes into the brown material.

A frail figure rose from the tiny bed, and Elain rubbed her eyes. “Nesta?” she whispered, a sigh of relief escaping her chapped lips.

“Pack,” Nesta ordered. “We’ve got to move again.”

Elain immediately hauled herself out of the bed, rapidly opening all the tiny cupboards and sweeping the contents into bags. “What was it this time?”

“Ianthe, soldiers, and a God.” Nesta folded all the blankets and stuffed the pillows.

“The High Priestess?” Elain said, heading to the bathroom. When she emerged, all the toiletries had been zipped into bags and stuffed into a larger sack. “What God?”

A God of War.

One that made her feel alive instead of merely existing.

Instead, Nesta said, “Just a minor one.” She beckoned Elain to head to the kitchen so pack their last rations, the cold air seeping into their skin. She gave the guards about another hour before they found their refuge.

Locking the window shut, Nesta froze when Elain’s scream shattered the air. Bolting into the next room, she snarled when she saw Elain shivering and staring in shock at a large figure radiating the familiar sense of power—seating himself in the ragged and torn chair as if it were a throne fit for a king.

But that was what he was compared to them.

“Just a minor God?” the God tsked his tongue, staring at Nesta—as if Elain were invisible and as if he could consume Nesta right there and then.

“Get out of my house,” she seethed, and nudged Elain away.

Elain levelled Nesta with a clipped stare. “Really, Nesta? The God of War? Ares?”

Ares.

The name sent shivers down her spine. It made the situation too real, too risky. By no means was this some minor God, as Elain had realized, trembling. 

She supposed it was the small mercies—the God allowing Elain to bolt away—that mattered.

An eyebrow cocked towards her. “It’s won’t be your house much longer will it, Nesta?” When she didn’t answer—her veins on fire—he pushed further. “Guards are searching for you and closing in.”

“What do you want?”

The God rose from the chair, the darkness wavering around him. The red jewels on top of each of his gloves exuded another type of power. A set of dimples winked down on her and those deep, brown eyes stared unfathomably at her. “I want to claim you.”

Nesta swallowed. This was her last defense, her last barrier to remain free: “I’m not a virgin.”

With swiftness beyond reason, the God moved so he was in front of her. He studied her eyes and the pulse along her throat—the fury and the rage in her own eyes and the quicker, beating pulse in memory of three years ago. Seconds passed before his eyes narrowed, and he gutted out, “Who?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You resist my claim, and the guards will be here sooner than you think.”

Nesta shivered. “Then you’re just as bad as him.”

The male who had taken her away three years ago.

The God of War looked down at her, and gently reached out a hand, traced with scars and bruises. When she didn’t bat it away, his knuckles slowly caressed her cheek. “I can help you, sweetheart.”

She’d wasted enough time. “Help is just another word for control.”

Who hurt you,” the God snarled, the red stones flaring. Lethal dark oozed from them.

A crash sounded from the other side, and Elain meekly peeked up from under the countertop. “I packed all the kitchenware.”

The God of War didn’t spare a glance in the other direction, determinedly staring into her soul—seeing the darkness. “I can help you and your sister. You’ll be safe. You won’t have to run again.”

“At what cost?”

He leaned down so that his forehead touched hers. Warmth shot through her at the contact, and in that moment, she felt safer than she’d even been in his life.

“I claim you,” he murmured, voice dark and dangerous, deep and deadly. “As mine.”

“And if I refuse?”

A glimmer of amusement in those hazel eyes. “I hear cells in this village are quite cold.”

“Threatening a mortal?”

“What can I say, sweetheart?” A cocky, dark grin, honed from insanity and lunacy in the battlefield. “All’s fair in love and war.”

welcome home, soldier | tommy shelby

request: [reader] and Tommy met during the war through letters(she was his rock during the hardest times and he confided on her everything ,even the family job ). after the war is over ,Tommy is set on meeting her face to face, her brother died on the field and she’s struggling ,so they finally set a date and it’s all kinds of romantic.

“Here, Tommy”

He looked up, cig hanging from his mouth, half frozen hands stilling where they lay on his gun. He was bored to death and cleaning it for the third time today, sat in an alcove buried into the side of the trench.

“What is it, Frank?”

“Letter for you”

He scowled, holding his hand out for the paper.

“Already had mine today”

“It off my sister”

“What?”

Frank laughed, dropping into his own burrow opposite and scanning his own letter.

“She wanted to say thank you ‘to that Tommy guy’ for, and I quote ‘saving my absolute idiot of a brother from his own stupidity’. So…I think she misses me”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What if MC had a younger, maybe hotter, sister that tried to flirt and seduce everyone in RFA + V and Saeran?

Jesus Christ DO I HAVE EXPERIENCE WITH THIS *well she was like one of my best friends and jesus pent up aggression gonna be on this post LOL 

MOD Saeran happily serving you :) 

Keep reading

Lord of Thorns (Chapter One)(Spideypool AU)

Welcome to the story! I am so excited to share this with you!
This first Chapter is LONG AS HELL. We get to meet all the characters, background info etc. Beast!Wade, Beauty!Peter, Gaston!Harry.
Fair warning guys, Harry is… icky. I had never realized just how awful of a person Gaston is with his borderline sexual assault on Belle until I watched the new movie and I couldn’t get it out of my head. So yeah, Harry as Gaston is icky.
Characters are Ryan Reynolds as Wade, Andrew Garfield as Peter, James Franco as Harry, and Sally Field as Aunt May.

I tagged everyone who liked/reblogged my preview post, so if you would like to taken off/ added to the tag list please let me know!

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE  

I hope you all enjoy this :) Please reach out to me and let me know, I love to hear from my readers.
*************************************

Every significant moment in your life is inked on your skin in the form of flowers. A first kiss, a perfect day, a favorite memory, a wedding, the birth of a child, and of course, the death of a loved one.

The flowers first appear on your ribs, traveling up your side and across your chest, spreading to your neck and down across your back and if you are lucky, enough bloom to cover your arms and legs. By the time you are old, your skin is covered in lovely flowers and leaves and trailing vines, like tattoos that tell your life story, and the more intricate the blooms, the luckier you are.

Some people have flowers with specific meanings– blooms that signify compassion and care decorate teachers. The best lovers are covered in red flowers for passion and love. Others simply are covered in every flower imaginable, the random colors and designs filling their skin like a meadow filled with happy memories.

Both way are beautiful. Both ways are desired.

But then, some people have thorns winding through their flowers, black slashing through the colors.  These are the people to avoid, the worst people, the people whose souls are so stained with their misdeeds, that it spills out onto their skin for the world to see.
These are the people doomed to be alone.

************
Prologue
************

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle, deep in the heart of an endless forest.

He was beautiful, this prince, tall and strong with golden blonde hair, light blue eyes that glowed when he laughed, and perfect smooth skin nearly covered with flowers and blooms because the prince had had many happy moments in his twenty nine years.

But alas, despite his beauty, his heart was cold and his smile cruel, his words like barbs when he spoke.

Some of the townspeople blamed the late King, rest his soul, for turning the Prince so bitter. After the lovely queen had passed away shortly after the Prince’s seventh birthday, there had been no one to act as a buffer between the cruel King and the innocent boy, and the Prince had suffered for it. The King lived a life of drinking and partying, using and discarding any beautiful person that caught his eye, man or woman, and the Prince grew up with the same values. What had once been a teasing sense of humour turned sarcastic and cutting. Instead of laughing readily at almost anything, the Prince began only laughing at someone elses misfortune. The years turned the darling little boy into a cynical young man.

Others blamed the war that had nearly destroyed their kingdom years before. The Prince had ridden off ahead of their troops as a boy barely of age and had come home a hardened man. The soldiers told quiet stories of the Princes surprising talent of fighting with the twin blades known as katanas, how he could decimate an entire platoon just by himself. Spoke even quieter of his many romantic entanglements with the best looking soldiers, of nights spent listening to him find his pleasure, only to see him break the unlucky soldiers heart soon after. And just the barest whispers of the way the Prince would laugh as he tore through their enemies, blades flying, taunting and teasing non stop as he killed mercilessly. The way he talked about slaying soldiers as if it was a game, drunk and giggling about it over the fire.

Despite their negative feelings, all the townspeople waited eagerly for their invitation to the Prince’s 30th Birthday Party, for tonight he was to choose a partner to share the throne. The most handsome men and the most beautiful women made themselves up in their finery, each trying to outshine the other. Unlike most of the other kingdoms, having two Kings, or even two Queens, was not an issue. Several of the previous rulers had been adopted into the family because the ruling partners could not have a child naturally. Others had been carried by surrogates, and raised as royalty, the idea of “pure” royal blood an outdated concept they refused to engage in.

After all, families were about love, not about bloodlines, so the Prince could choose whoever he wanted.

Needless to say, the kingdom was almost in an uproar, each eligible person trying to figure out what they could do to catch the Prince’s eye.

As always, the castle was decorated in astonishing, jaw dropping colors, flowers imported from all over the world strewn across the tables and floors. Entertainers from the East wowed the guests with magic, and musicians from all the grandest symphonies played in every corner of the ball room.

And the Prince sat upon his throne, a self satisfied smirk on his handsome face as all the most beautiful people paraded themselves in front of him, each dress more intricate than the last, each suit a richer shade of varying colors, each glance more flirtatious, each smile more promising.

He was still so charming, even after going away to war, after becoming so bitter. When he wanted to pay a compliment, his words left the recipient blushing, fanning themselves. Older women who disapproved of his ways were swayed to his side by mischievous smiles and flirty winks. His eyes were like a magnet, and once he had you in his sights, you were already lost, and he knew it. His beauty was like a weapon, and he wielded it effortlessly.  

Keep reading

Sherlolly Week 2017 Day 2: First Date

(The rating is still G on this one. Set in S1, sometime after ASiP but before TGG.)

*

“Sherlock?  What are you doing here?  Do you have another case already?” Molly asked, setting her bag on the lab table.  He’d only left a few hours before.

“Nope.  John has a date and I’m not to return to the flat until two at the earliest, which, I have to say, is highly optimistic of him considering the length of his shower this morning.”  He went back to looking at whatever slide he had in the microscope.

Keep reading

Bonding

Requested by @the-lost-queen-of-terrasen 99: “I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle

Rowaelin - technically, but there are a TON of other ships in this too


Aelin glances around the camp. Aedion sits on a log, staring blankly at the fire. Lysandra is sitting on the adjacent log, Evangeline leaning against her side, both of them quietly conversing. Fenrys, Gavriel, and Lorcan sit cross legged outside their tents in a tense game that Aelin can’t even begin to understand. Elide and Manon are still picking at dinner a couple feet away, Dorian leaning against the tree behind them, watching closely, for various reasons.

Rowan runs his hand down her arm, chin resting on Aelin’s shoulder as she settles farther into his chest from her position between his legs. He adjusts against the tree they’re sitting by and whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “What are you thinking, fireheart?” He wonders.

Aelin runs her hand absentmindedly through Fleetfoot’s fur, contemplating how she should answer him. “I feel like we need a bonding activity.” She ponders, shivering when Rowan’s lips make a trail down the side of her throat, humming in question. “There’s this one game…”

Without warning, Aelin stands, making Rowan slump back against the trunk. He lets out a short growl, prompting Aelin to glance back for a short moment to wink at him. She saunters over to the three fae males, grabbing Fenrys’ bag. They break their intense eye contact as Fenrys looks up at her accusingly. “Ay, what are you doing…” His exclamation dies on his lips when she grabs a bottle of ale, pops the cover off, and starts chugging.

Keep reading

We Didn’t Go To The Snowball Together (but it's okay)

The brown carpet burned against her knees. She readjusted, biting her lip as she straightened his tie. Mike winced. “Does it really have to be so tight?”

“Well…” she loosened it a little, and saw relief flood his features. “Better?”

“Yeah. Way better. Thanks.”

Nancy stood. She brushed off her dress—it was an older one, which their mom had let her borrow. I wore it to my junior prom, Karen had said with a small, sentimental smile. She had run her hands over the blue silk skirt, reminiscing about her glory days; hiding in the bathroom with Joyce Byers, throwing snowballs at Hopper, drinking a little too much…

Some of the beading was missing. It was still beautiful to Nancy, though.

“Are you sure you wanna go?”

Nancy watched as her brother brushed a comb through his hair for the thousandth time that day. He looked smaller, somehow—almost like he’d sunken into himself. But he was taller, and older in a way that she couldn’t put her finger on. It had only been a month since Eleven, but he’d cried every night between then and now. Sometimes the tears were silent. Others, they were louder than thunderstorms and shook the walls of her heart.

Mike smiled. “I’m good.”

“Mike…” she sat down on the edge of his bed, “no more secrets, remember?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

what movies would the RFA take MC to see? sorry if it's a weird request Q_Q

Author’s note: Not a weird request!! I just finished Kimi no na wa and it killed me ♥ do you guys have any favorite movies?? because I need new ones to watch ANY GENRE IS FINE

Yoosung

  • A ROM COM, 100%
  • Of course, he uses you as an excuse when people ask him why he’s watching something “so girly” 
  • Yoosung had been waiting for this movie premiere for months
  • He bought his tickets in advance, came early to get a good spot in line, and had blocked all spoilers from his phone you had even agreed to come along with him!!
  • Everything was going PERFECTLY 
  • Until he saw one of his classmates waiting outside the same movie theatre
  • Quickly, he tried to turn away, but it was too late
  • “Hey, Yoosung!! Whatcha doing in line waiting for a chick flick??”
  • “Uhhh, w-well,” he desperately looked around, “MC really wanted to see this one!”
  • “Your girl’s got you whipped, huh?”
  • “…Whipped?”
  • You overheard the conversation as you came back from the bathroom
  • Walking closer to the two, you gave the stranger a passive aggressive smile, “Come on, Yoosung, let’s go.”
  • You dragged him away from his classmate
  • “Why didn’t you just tell him you wanted to see this movie yourself?”
  • He scratched the back of his neck, “I-I didn’t want to sound lame…”
  • “Hey,” you stopped and turned toward him, “If you were lame, you would have never scored such a cute girlfriend like me!”
  • You twirled around and gave him a wink
  • He chuckled and grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a kiss
  • “I love you.”
  • “Right back at you… now, come on, we don’t want to be late for my movie!” 

Zen

  • Normally he would have taken you to one of his movies
  • BUT
  • there was a something even better out
  • “Are you gonna tell me what we’re seeing??”
  • Nope! It’s a surprise!!”
  • You sighed and continued to cover your eyes with your hands
  • he guided you to a chair and you felt him sit next to you
  • “Okay, you can look now!!” 
  • you glanced up at the bright title screen and oh my god
  • “How he came to be: The story of Zen”
  • “You took me to a documentary about YOURSELF???”
  • “…Yeah.”
  • You tried to act annoyed, but your smile betrayed you
  • “We can go see-”
  • “No,” you rested your head on his shoulder, “I’m good here.”

Jaehee

  • If Jaehee doesn’t choose a Zen movie then assume she’s been kidnapped and replaced with a clone
  • Seriously, the only time she’ll take a break from work is to watch movies starring the white haired narcissist
  • There’s this shirt she wears EVERY TIME the two of you go to and see one of his films
  • “Aren’t you embarrassed wearing a shirt with one of your friends’ faces on it?”
  • “Embarrassed? No. I’m honored that I get to express my fondness of Zen’s artistic-”
  • Blah, blah, blah, let’s just go see the movie so we can get home.”
  • “…Are you jealous?”
  • “W-what? No!”
  • She slipped her hand into yours
  • “Good, because I love way more than some silly movie.”

 Jumin

  • THIS LITTLE PRETENTIOUS PRICK TOOK YOU TO SOME HIGH END FOREIGN FILM you don’t even know what language it’s in
  • And on top of that, the entire movie was in B&W
  • So could Jumin blame you for falling asleep????
  • When it ended he looked over to see if you enjoyed it
  • “MC?”
  • “…”
  • “MC!!?”
  • “H-Huh? Oh, it’s over! What a great movie!!”
  • You stood up and stretched, covering your mouth to hide a yawn
  • He smirked, standing up next to you
  • “Oh, you thought so?”
  • Jumin leaned in closer to you
  • “What did you think about the scene with the flock of flamingos?”
  • “It was so moving, I almost cried!!”
  • “Hmm, that’s strange; there weren’t any flamingos in the entire movie.”
  • You looked away, “…I may have fallen asleep.”
  • “Uh-huh, I saw.”
  • He put his arm around your shoulder, “That’s okay, you didn’t miss much. It was pretty boring.”
  • You rolled your eyes and leaned into him
  • “Next time, I pick the movie.”

 707

  • He chose a scary movie without hesitation
  • whY DOES HE INSIST ON TORTURING YOU
  • and when you get home you can BET YOUR ASS he’ll try to scare you
  • “MC, I think I just saw something outside!”
  • “Yeah, right.”
  • “No seriously-”
  • CRASH
  • “EVERY MAN FOR THEMSELVES!!!”
  • He watched as you ran down the hall and into the bedroom
  • Seven had to hold onto a wall he waS LAUGHING SO HARD
  • “…I still don’t approve of this.”
  • Once he caught his breath, he turned around
  • “Thanks, Saeran, she was SO scared!!”
  • Seven turned to look down the hall again
  • “…Actually, I think I should go check on her.”
  • Saeran watched his brother wipe away another tear and slowly make his way down to his bedroom
  • He rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen
  • He peaked his head into the fridge to find something to eat
  • “I guess Saeyoung hasn’t realized MC knew he was going to try and scare her.”

Earlier that day

“Hey, Saeran, wait up!!”

He was on his way outside when he heard his brother’s girlfriend call out.

“What do you need?”

MC ran over to the twin and leaned in close, lowering her voice.

“So, tonight, Seven and I are going to see a scary movie, and I know that every time I see one with him, he tries to prank me when we get back home…”

“This is true.”

“And I was wondering if you would be willing to help me exact some revenge on him. It won’t be-”

“I’m in.”

“But-”

“You had me at revenge. Just text me the details, I’m going for a run.”

Saeran turned back around and left, a smile plastered on his face.”

  • He felt that same smile creep back on his face as he thought of what MC had showed him
  • “ I wonder if she finished setting up-”
  • “WHAT THE HELL, MC??”
  • “-her other prank.”
Enjoying the show?  ~Smutty September~

Prompt:Can you please do a teen wolf threesome with stiles and Derek? Make it really rough, so like stiles and Derek are really forceful and physical…

Pairing: Derek x Reader x Stiles

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: DP, oral, just a lot of smutty stuff.

TAGGED: @sapphire2489 @khadija456fire @yui-miyuka @smileybear17

Other social medias: Instagram

Keep reading