cherry red lipstick

rose or peony? lip balm or lip gloss? highlight or contour? strawberries or cherries? red lipstick or nude lipstick? velvet or silk? gold or rose gold? rose quartz or amethyst? bathrobes or towels? diamond or pearl? lavender or rosemary? sunrise or sunset? electronic books or paper copies? fiction or nonfiction?

what the zodiac signs are made of

Aries: cherry red lipstick and feminism

Taurus: chocolate fudge cake and romantic rose gardens at 5PM

Gemini: bees

Cancer: hot chocolate with marshmallows and crippling self-esteem issues

Leo: brilliant smiles and paint stained skinny jeans

Virgo: raised eyebrows and aesthetically pleasing minimalistic items

Libra: cabrio rides with their significant other and striped crop tops

Scorpio: Witchcraft and intense staring contests with strangers

Sagittarius: Pinboards with magnets from all over the world and nerdy glasses that are too big for their faces

Capricorn: Grey business suits and long conversations about the meaning of life at night

Aquarius: Rainbows and brutal honesty

Pisces: Seashells at the shore and struggles to keep themselves alive

DEH Soulmate AU

((This is one of those The World Is Black and White Until You Meet Your Soulmate ones))

The first time Evan met the Murphys was on the first day of school, sophomore year. He remembers the day perfectly– the grays of the trees in the courtyard, the dark hues of the doors, and then light. Greens, blues, and the red of Zoe’s dress. Oh my God, Zoe’s dress. He wanted to ask her if she could see it too, but the very thought made him a little nauseous.

From there, it was a whirlwind. The blue pen she scribbled stars with. The red of her guitar. The indigo streaks in her hair.

He also remembers the light green of the tree. The red and blue flashing ambulance lights. He remembers wanting to see her cherry red lipstick one more time.

And then on the first day of senior year, he remembers the color of Connor’s eyes. He remembers him storming off with Evan’s letter, a smudge of gray amongst all the colors.

That was the same day all the colors went away, leaving Evan once again alone in black and white.

Houses Aesthetic

Slytherin: The smell of coffee in the morning, regardless if you’re going to drink it or not. Classy dress and heels one day, torn jeans and combat boots the next. The feeling of leave crunching under your shoes. Finally perfecting your writing to look elegantly beautiful. Green smoothies for breakfast, burgers for lunch. Mumbling the perfect comeback to anyone only loud enough for your friends to hear. Smirking when you know more than anyone else. The laughter you create after a smart remark. Wishing upon a star. Deep poetry you keep to yourself. Beautiful caligraphy. Inside jokes.

Ravenclaw: The sound of a crisp page. Sweaters and sneakers all day, everyday. Making several mugs of tea but forgetting them everywhere because you’re reading. Not being able to tell what is dream or reality. Surviving off of nothing but snacks. Responding to anything with sarcasm. Mindless doodles on your homework. Starting a project but never finishing it. Endearing insults. Writing incredible notes but never using them. Random facts about tv shows The sound of typing. Record players and typewriters. Writing seven different stories at once but forgetting to finish them. Drawing at 1:37 am because you felt inspired. Deep 2 am talks.

Hufflepuff: Hot cocoa with whipped cream. Giggling endlessly over nothing. Wearing whatever you feel comfortable in. Beanies and hoodies and blankets.Taking stealthy pictures of your friends. Finally finishing an essay. Reading inspiring quotes at midnight. Goofing around when no one looks. Somehow always knowing where things are. The perfect gift you know they’ll love. The smell of cookies baking in the oven. Giving the best hugs. The sound of the remote as you scour for some great shows. Staying up all night with a friend having a movie marathon.

Gryffindor: Bright cherry red lipstick. The sound of sneakers hitting the pavement, running. Eating healthy one day then eating every bit of junk in a 100 meter radius. Drinking cold lemonade in the pool. Completing stupid dares. Trying not to bust out laugh in the middle of class. Procrastinating on essays. The feeling of the warm summer air. Showing off to someone you like. Wearing the same shirt two times in a row without anyone noticing. Staying up late on tumblr. Laughing so hard you can’t breathe. Pizza and fries for breakfast, french toast for dinner.


Matthew watched as you walked in for the second time that day in a different outfit talking about you just had a craving for the lemon pies. He was currently behind the counter eating a bag of cheetos, wiping the orange dust on the hem of his apron.

Purposefully bending over, you examined the Reeses that you could have sworn were a shelf higher yesterday. You knew what you were doing though, you had been coming in here for three weeks now ever since he picked up this summer job from his uncle.

That strong jaw and narrow eyes that never left your face or body as you walked around the store. He smiled at you, one of his corny ass grins as he asked you if sweatpants was the only thing you owned. Just to spite him the next day you paid for your gas inside, wearing a fitted white tshirt dress and gladiator sandals that held onto your calves. You heard him suck in a breath as you grinned at him. He was extra aware of everything you did after that, slick talking asking if you had a man, wondering what shade of lipstick that was.

Saying: That dress looks good on your figure, when he really wanted to compliment how it hugged your ass. Now you found yourself in a long sleeve crop top and a fitted thigh length skirt and heels. Taking your time you stood back up, making sure to move slowly, letting that spandex fabric stretch over your ass as you turned around to grin at him.

“Y’all better have my cherry coke too.” Giving him a small smile, cherry red lipstick popping as he plainly stared at you letting you knew he was staring at your ass.

“It’s back there. Ol’ greedy ass. You don’t need to be eating them snack cakes this late at night.” He popped another cheeto in his mouth, praying that no one else was going to come into the store at this time. 

He looked out the door at the gas station, not a soul in sight. The sky was black, a bright full moon staring back at him. He’d close the store at 1AM, and the clock currently read 12:35, he could close early right?  

Grabbing a cold can you strutted to the counter, leaning over the surface. “YSo you gonna be my daddy now or something?”

Ringing up the lemon pie, he stared dead into your eyes, licking his lips. His eyes said I want you, but his outside demeanor seemed professional. “Only when I’m giving it to you that good.”

Biting your lip, you leaned over the counter, letting your Victoria’s Secret demi cup push up do the work. “Do I have to make an appointment?” Holding out a crisp $10. 

Taking it, Matthew said nothing, giving you the change he came from around the counter, at first you watched him, your heart about to pop out of your throat as you wondered could you also walk the walk. Then he locked the store doors, flipped the sign from open and closed, and turned out the lights in the front. 

Walking past you, he looked down at you with a slick grin. “I have a slot open.” Opening the office door in the back, he held it open. “You coming?” 

Well this is what all your talking had got you, and you squared up your shoulders, making sure to swivel those hips as you walked past him into the office, your hand lingering over his pectorals.

The door closed with a hush, and he wasted no time picking you up wrapping your legs around his waist. His mouth was on your lips, your neck, your jaw. Tongue poking out to wipe across your lips and beg entry. Opening your mouth, you let your tongues mingle as you felt a hardening shaft poking at your panties. 

“All that talk you you’re just putty in my hands.” He teased you, setting you down on the ground. 

Raising an eyebrow you kicked off your heels. “I wasn’t joking about anything.” 

His belt popped open, the sound of his jeans unzipping had you wetter than you thought. “Not even the: ‘tasting my pixie stick’ part?” 

Grinning with your tongue out, you teased him. “I hope it’s not that small.” 

He shook his head at you, saying nothing as he let his pants drop, and the king sized snickers he was packing seemed to shut you up. One hand on your shoulder, the other palming himself he rubbed his tip against your lip. 

“Now that shut you up.” Chuckling as you gave kitten licks to his tip, looking up at him as you placed his head in your mouth, tongue rolling over the tip. 

He took a deep breath, watching himself disappear in your mouth and then reappear covered in your saliva. Good thing your curls were already held up in a puff, he watched you swallow him down, hands on his thighs to steady yourself. 

A jerk from his hips pushed him farther into your mouth, and he hissed feeling himself touch the back of your throat. “Let me hear you.” 

One hand on his sack, you massaged him as you picked up the pace, head bobbing back and forth as you sucked on him. Tongue hanging out of your mouth as you licked up and down his shaft before shoving him back down your throat. 

He was holding your shoulders, head leaning back as he groaned your name softly, his hips moving gently. With a pop he came free of your mouth, standing you up as he pulled your panties down bending you over the desk. “All that teasing.” He groaned, the wetness of your slit rubbing on the head of his cock. 

“But will your stroke game live up to what you said?” You asked as he slid his length up and down your slit, eliciting a moan from you. 

Pushing your head down on the desk, he whirled his hips to the left as he entered you hard. Then to the right as he pulled out. Back to the left as he slid in real slow, and to the right pulling out just to the tip. 

Fingernails trying to hold onto the Ikea wood in front of you, he leaned over your back working his hips back and forth slowly as he eased further inside you. Once hilted, he jerked himself upwards, causing a bright light to flash behind your eyes. “I’m a dancer too, can you tell?” 

He’d have you denouncing any other dick like it was satan if he kept this up. Steady strokes that seemed to hit just where you wanted it, your thighs quivering as his thick fingers reached in front of you to scissor kick at your pearl. He shivered, shaking gingerly as he moaned your name into your ear, his teeth leaving little pricks on your earlobe. 

“Is it good baby?” He asked, deep voice booming in the room. 

“Uh huh.” You groaned, trying to sit up enough to throw it back at him. 

“Words, you’re a big girl.” He held onto your hips, fingers digging hard into your skin as he slammed his hips into your ass. 

You stuttered, mouth open as you felt your orgasm approaching. “Yea-yes, just like that.” 

You couldn’t pick your leg high enough on that table, all you wanted was to feel every inch of him inside you, and just when he slapped your ass you held your breath, a scream making you ride out your orgasm as you felt him leaking warm and sticky down your leg. 

Bringing you your coke and some dry paper towels, you sat in the office chair after sipping the cold fizzy drink. 

“So…” He offered nonchalantly. 

You stared at Matthew, wiping your lips after chugging soda. “So.” 

“Wanna help me open tomorrow?” 

I fixed it! I like this better! This is in honor of Travel Anon.

Things The Riverdale Characters Remind Me Of
  • Jughead: Black coffee, the feeling you get when you're awake at 4 am and no one else is, walking alone in the rain, knitted sweaters, bookshelves that are so full some are piled on the floor, the shivers you get when there's a breeze, thunderstorms and raining nights, gentle music that makes you feel like the world is slowing down, breaking into people's yards to get a perfect photo, passing notes in class, conspiracy theory videos, foreign films, silent movies, anything on vinyl, fresh water rivers
  • Archie: the smell of freshly cut grass, laughing so hard your ribs start to hurt, running your hands through your hair after it's just been washed, that thing where you wake up suddenly because you thought you we're falling, swimming in the summer time, running until you can't breathe, walking in the dark because you can't sleep, the colour yellow, messy hand writing, defending your friends, acoustic versions of 80s rock songs, cold showers on hot days, tight shirts, getting all of your anger out, pushing yourself as hard as you can
  • Betty: pastel colours, high pony tails, sunshine, picnics in a park, bunches of fresh flowers that we're hand picked, lace trimmings on white socks, persistence, the feeling of standing up for yourself, wanting answers, loyalty, forgiveness, writing in your journal after a bad day, the smoothness of ink out of a new pen, messy sketches in the margins of work books, neatly spaced stationary on a clean desk, stretching when you first wake up, gentle light music that you can cry to, early 2000s pop hits that you can't help but dance to, singing into a hairbrush, trying with all you have to help other people, kindness, spinning around in a flowy dress
  • Veronica: the cool feeling you get when you breathe in after chewing peppermint gum, tight dresses, dancing on tables, champagne and strawberries, deep burgundy lipstick, expensive apartments, wet hair, black swimsuits, diamond earrings, red velvet cupcakes, cute nicknames, realising you're not perfect, building from your past, pushing your friends to realise their potential, never giving up, confidence, quick comebacks, heartfelt apologies, believing in fate, finding your destiny, forgetting how to live without someone, looking out for your family, being the new kid, absolute fearlessness, knowing when to pull back and when to fight harder, getting caught in the rain and starting to dance
  • Cheryl: Red neon lights, dripping clothes and frozen fingers, the sinking feeling in your stomach when you know something bad's about to happen, hiding yourself, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling before you fall asleep, full orchestras playing in an otherwise empty hall, fresh manicures, snarky comments, masquerade balls, wedding gowns, being brave, being vulnerable, the feeling of being broken and having no where to go, overgrown ivy and hanging vines, high heels on tiled floors, red lipstick, cherry stained lips, alter candles half burnt, silk sheets, Shakespeare sonnets, silent judgement, jealousy
  • Grundy: a literal bag of shit
Hamilton's Phillipa Soo Shares Her Brilliant Trick for Kiss-Proof Lipstick
How the star of Hamilton and Amélie leaves her mark on Broadway — but never on a costar's cheek.
By Elizabeth Siegel

If you’ve spent a Sunday afternoon refreshing Ticketmaster or scouring Broadway for scalpers or belting out “Stay Alive,” then you already know Phillipa Soo — at least, you know her alias Eliza Schuyler Hamilton. “I was very proud to be a part of something that reminds us that we come from all different sorts of places and that we’re all just trying to live the best lives we can,” says Soo, in a voice that’s clear and bright and, holy cow, really strong. Because the 26-year-old’s vocal cords aren’t those of a normal human. They’re a Grammy-winning phenomenon: From opening night until last July, Soo made Broadway a little better, a little cooler as Hamilton’s leading lady.

And this month, she’s moving two blocks north to the Walter Kerr Theatre, stepping into the quirky French lead in Amélie. “When you’re on a show schedule, everything is heightened,” says Soo. “You’re always aware of what works and what doesn’t so you can be at your best.” For Soo, that meant practicing roughly 23 hours a day. It also meant overhauling her skin-care routine and finding one perfect cherry-red lipstick.

Kiss Me, Maybe

For @theadventureofhistorygirl and her prompt:

Prompt: Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but I don’t want to blow my cover with this skip, so kiss me maybe?

Enjoy, love!

Kiss Me, Maybe

The bar is busy for Sunday evening and she’s stuck between the wall and two frat boys well into their cups.  She’d gone for low key tonight, dressing in charcoal gray slacks and a thick black sweater, her leather jacket draped over the back of her chair.  Her normal attire of tight dress and sky high heels would usually score her a sweet seat smack dab in the middle of the bar, but she’d wanted to be discreet, be able to observe without all eyes on her.

This particular perp isn’t one to sidle up to a pretty blond with legs on display and cherry red lipstick wrapped around a straw.  

Keep reading

You're the One That I Want- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: On accident, you and Tom go to Harrison’s Halloween party dressed as the iconic couple Sandy and Danny from ‘Grease’.

Word Count: 1900

A/N: This was so much fun to write. Harrison is a bit crazy in this one, so oops. He is the ultimate match maker. I hope you all enjoy. And happy Halloween!


“Hey, are you coming to my party tonight?” Harrison asked you as you sat beside him in the car on your way home.

“Yes, I mean you said "Y/N, you’re coming to my party or I’ll never speak to you again”, which means I wouldn’t have you to buy me food, so I have to go.“ You explained, making him laugh. Harrison was throwing his annual Halloween party tonight, which required new decorations from last year and lots of sweet treats. He begged you to go shopping with him for it because Tom was busy. He gave you free food so you couldn’t pass up the offer.

"Don’t act like you don’t want to go.” He smirked at you devilishly.

“No, I don’t want to go. I could be at home watching Stranger Things instead of being a wallflower at your party.”

“Of course you want to go, Tom will be there.” His eyes light up as a blush spread over your cheeks. And here you thought his evil smirk couldn’t get any bigger.

You had known Harrison for years. Two years ago, he introduced you to his best friend, Tom. You had taken a quick liking to Tom, developing a slight-you insisted it was slight, very slight- crush on him. You didn’t spend as much time with him as you did with Harrison, who had become a brother to you. On multiple occasions, such as this one, Harrison has tried to play match maker; he even flat out asked Tom to take you to the Captain America: Civil War premiere. It didn’t work because you were busy; unlike Harrison, you had a job and were not able to follow Tom around the world.

“I’m over him, Harrison.” You lied as he stopped the car in front of your apartment complex. It was the same fable you said everytime he brought up the cute boy with dashing brown eyes.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He teased. You rolled your eyes and opened the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk, “Hey, Y/N.” Harrison called, making you halt from shutting the door on him.

“What?” You asked.

“What’s your costume?” He questioned.

“Sandy from 'Grease’, why?” You replied.

“Just wondering. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yep.” You sighed. Why couldn’t he just leave you be at home with Netflix cuddled up in a warm, fluffy blanket?

“7 o'clock. See you there, love.” He smiled at you as you rolled your eyes and closed the door. Harrison was always your extremely cheeky friend. You heard his car speed off as you entered your own apartment, meaning you were finally free to begin getting ready for tonight.


“Tom, what’s your costume for tonight?” Harrison asked his friend. He called Tom the moment he got home with a scheme already forming in his head.

“Well, I was thinking of just wearing the Spiderman suit. I don’t have any other costumes really.” Tom replied in slight confusion, “Why?”

“Don’t be Spiderman. Be someone else, everyone in the world has already seen you as Spiderman. Be original-be someone like Danny from 'Grease’.” Harrison stated, trying to sound as if he didn’t desperately want his friend to be Danny.

“Are you okay? I thought you hated that movie.”

“I do, but you don’t. You should be Danny.”

“Do you just want to wear my Spiderman suit? Is that what this is about?” Tom accused. Harrison shrugged at the thought.

“You caught me.” He replied, hoping that maybe if he wore the suit, Tom would be Danny. It’s not like he was a hard character to dress up as. All you needed was a black shirt and black jeans-a wig if he really went for it.

“I’ll let you wear it, but you can’t stain or rip it. No pulling threads either. It needs to be exactly how I had it originally.” He stated.

“I promise to protect your precious suit from harm if you swear to be Danny.” Harrison said.

“Why are you so hooked on me being Danny?”

“No reason. Okay, well, I’ve got some setting up to do. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, and Harrison?” Tom asked.

“Yes?” He answered.

“Will-Will Y/N be there?” He questioned in a hushed tone, making Harrison laugh.

“Yes, your Juliet will be there, Romeo.” He said.

“Shut up.” Tom grumbled, hanging up the phone.


Harrison was starting to get grumpy and Tom was starting to get nervous. The party had started thirty minutes ago and Harrison had yet to see you walk through the front door. He was impatient about your arrival; he wanted nothing more than to make you and Tom get together. He was angry at the thought that you may have actually ditched him and stayed at home. Harrison sacrificed his amazing vampire costume to get Tom to match with you (although he did feel privileged in a legitimate, free Spiderman costume), so he had every right to benupset about you being late. Tom was growing nervous because Harrison looked ready to kill something. He was also becoming sad because out of all the girls at the party, none of them were his girl; even though you technically weren’t in a relationship with him.

Harrison was just about to pull out his phone to call you when the door opened. A proud smile formed on his face as he glanced over at Tom. Tom was oblivious to the fact that you had just walked in as his costume’s counterpart since he was in the middle of a conversation with some of his other friends. You saw Harrison and made your way over to him, stumbling slightly in your red high heels.

“You’re late.” Harrison stated.

“I had to finish my show and do you know how long it takes to get cherry red lipstick perfect?” You questioned, pointing to your lips.

“Better late than never, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Is that Tom’s suit?” You asked, looking at the intricate designs on the Spiderman suit he was wearing.

“Yep, he was going to wear this one, but I persuaded him to wear something a little more 50s.” He said. Harrison put a hand on Tom’s shoulder and turned him around to face you. It took a moment for you and Tom to register your costumes.

“Harrison!” You both exclaimed. You and Tom were in disbelief that your friend would plot such a scheme. You both knew he was crazy, but not this crazy.

“Don’t you two look lovely.” He smiled in amusement. His face dropped when he saw your glare and Tom’s horrified look, “I should go. You two should dance.” He dove off into the crowd and disappeared.

“He’s lucky I can barely walk in these heels or else I’d kill him.” You muttered. You balanced on your left leg as you lifted up your right to remove the red heel.

“Here, let me help.” Tom held out a hand to stabilize you from falling.

“Thanks,” you said after you successfully got both heels off, “I’m going to put these in Haz’s room.” You left without waiting for a response from Tom.

“What’re you doing? Ask her to dance, fool!” Harrison stated, coming back over to Tom.

“Why did you set this up? Did you actually want to wear the suit?”

“No, but I like it. Can I keep it?” He asked, but continued after seeing his friend’s pointed look, “I set this up because the two of you are crazy in love with each other and are too bloody stupid to do anything about it!”

“You’re wrong, Y/N doesn’t like me.” Tom said.

“She does, Tom. She came tonight because you were coming. I thought the costumes would help you get the balls to ask her out. When she comes back, ask her to dance. It’s not rocket science.” Harrison patted his friend on the back, “She’s coming back-I gotta run!”

“Harrison!” Tom called after him, but he was already gone.

“Was that Harrison?” You asked, scanning the crowd for the iconic Spiderman suit.

“No. I just thought I saw him.” Tom stated. The was an awkward moment shared before he spluttered out the words, “You look beautiful tonight.” His face turned almost as red as your shoes.

“Thank you,” You replied, looking down at your outfit. It was nothing much-black leather pants, a black off-the-shoulder top, and a black leather jacket, “You make a great Danny.”

“Really?” He asked, surprised, “I was going to just wear my suit, but Harrison asked to borrow it. I thought it was odd that he suggested Danny, since he hates 'Grease’, but the costume is simple enough.” He shrugged and you shifted your eyes down to your bare feet.

“I’m sorry-I told Harrison what I was wearing. I didn’t expect him to force you to match me. This must be super awkward; we’re not a couple, but we are dressed like it.”

“No, no, I don’t mind.” Tom said, making you look up to meet his eyes, “Quite the opposite actually. The thought of us together is incredible. I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

“Really?” You asked.


“Well, you’re in luck because you’re the one that I want.” You said, making him laugh.

“Can Danny kiss his Sandy?” Tom asked, placing his hands on your cheeks. You nodded slowly and the two of you leaned in. Just before your lips could touch, almost on cue, Harrison interrupted.

“Hey, Tom, I’m sorry, but I spilt red punch on the suit, but the suit’s red so it’s okay, right?” Harrison looked up from the wet patch on his chest to the two of you. He noticed the close proximity and his eyes lit up, “Is my OTP finally happenig? Is the ship finally sailing?” You and Tom both sighed and Tom dropped his hands, turning to his friend.

“Harrison, f*ck off.” Tom said.

“But I don’t want to miss this.”

“Harrison!” You and Tom snapped.

“Fine, but I’m getting an update from both of you.” Harrison huffed.

“And you’re cleaning my suit!” Tom said as his friend walked off. He turned back to you, “Where were we?”

“Shut up and kiss me already.” You stated.


Two months later, you and Tom had been going strong as a couple. Not much had changed besides that and Harrison growing a tad bit more annoying. By more annoying, you meant that he interrupted 9/10 of your dates with Tom. Although he was ridiculous, when he invited you and Tom over to have a Christmas move marathon, you had to go.

“Stop! Stop!” Harrison exclaimed when you and Tom were about to walk into his room, hand-in-hand. Harrison grabbed a small green object from his dresser and held it in his doorway.

“Is that mistletoe?” Tom asked.

“Yep, now you two have to kiss.” Harrison smiled.

“Harrison, we’re already dating. You don’t need to keep being crazy with your 'match making’.” You said.

“I know, but I’m the captain of this ship. Now kiss.” He ordered. You and Tom simultaneously rolled your eyes at him. When Tom’s fan found out about you two being together through Harrison, they crowned him the “captain” of your ship and now there was quite literally no living with him. Tom pecked you on the lips, making Harrison get giddy in excitement.

“Why is he so weird?” Tom asked you with a laugh.

“I don’t know. I’m only here for the food.” You replied.

Dating Cheryl Blossom (Male reader)

Originally posted by riverdalegifs

  •  Cheryl sees you in the hall and instantly takes a liking to you 
  • Cheryl being scared to open up
  •  But you assure her that she can trust you 
  • Always making sure she’s safe
  • Having your arm around her 24/7 
  • Cheryl being a bitch to the girls she sees you talking to “He’s taken!” “Back off" 
  •  Cheryl catching you staring at her 
  • Helping her calm down when she’s stressing over the cheer team 
  •  Ass grabbing 
  • Lots of cuddles 
  • Resting your head on her boobs 
  • Cheryl being possessive and overprotective in public 
  •   Being total dorks around each other in private
  • Helping her through the loss of Jason 
  •  Crushing anyone who disrespects her
  • Normal PDA
  • Sneaking off to have secret makeout sessions
  • Having her cherry red lipstick marks on your collar
  • Walking/driving her to school every day 
  • sex

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,100

Request: Bucky imagine where this fellow agent (someone who isn’t a part of The Avengers) keeps flirting with y/n and trying to get her out on dates, touching her. Bucky doesn’t know about the guy because the guy threatens y/n that she will be hurt if she tells Bucky. One night at a party, y/n and Bucky are at one of Tony’s parties, and the guy starts hurting you while Bucky goes to the bathroom. Steve then tells Bucky everything so Bucky, pissed off, possessive, and jealous, saves you from the man.

Warnings: Swearing, mild violence, harassment, fluff

Author’s Note: This was a little tricky for me to write. I actually discussed this with @cartoncitodeleche and @ninjaliciousgeek while in Austin to try and make it as realistic as possible. Too many times I see the reader being written as either a damsel or Natasha Romanoff 2.0, and I wanted it to be more relatable because I know plenty of strong, capable women who sometimes just freeze up when being harassed or are unsure of how to handle it and that’s not necessarily a reflection of their strength. And thank you to @murielweathers for helping me edit this!

Originally posted by sebuttianstans

Keep reading

Choose one :: Syrena

rose or peony? lip balm or lip gloss? highlight or contour? strawberries or cherries? red lipstick or nude lipstick? velvet or silk? gold or rose gold? rose quartz or amethyst? bathrobes or towels? diamond or pearl? lavender or rosemary? sunrise or sunset? electronic books or paper copies? fiction or nonfiction

tagged by: @etro-ascalon
tagging: @bourgeoisfury @vexredain @braden-ffxiv @morlipie @thavnairian @siyoh-mari @blue-eyes-soft-sighs @alrik-dotharl @aelorellevallancourt @zevet-xiv @twilighttheunicorn @amiraxiv @feinric @dhawkesnest