cursed pants

Dating!Kim Taehyung | REALLY LONG |

Hope you like it! If you want me to make it longer just ask! Enjoy! ❤️😊

Masterlist (X)

ALL CREDIT TO GIF OWNERS

Originally posted by kaiinyourarea

Originally posted by lavender-tae

Originally posted by minhosducks

  • Lip bites and pulls after a cheeky or sensual kiss 
  •  Him pulling away and smirking (w/ or w/o your bottom lips in between his teeth) 
  •  Love bites
  •  Hand guiding 
  • Teasing
  • Ass man? 100% (I mean have you seen that gif of him staring at the yoga woman’s ass)
  •  Ass grabbing/ass slapping 
  • Low-key bondage 
  •  Dirty talk?
  •  Hair pulling
  •  Neck kissing 
  •  Tongue trailing up neck/along jaw/down body
  •  Handcuffs
  •  Ear biting and tugging 
  •  Back scratching
  •  Angry sex
  •  Slow, passionate sex
  •  Shower sex
  •  Him pulling your hair back whilst in the shower to get better access to your neck
  •  Him helping you wash his hair and body afterwards and vice versa
  •  Bath play (like romantic, flowers, candles and alcohol) 
  •  Rough sex
  •  Back from tour sex
  • Car sex?
  • Morning sex
  •  Thigh riding 
  •  Dry humping
  • Multiple rounds? Depending on the mood
  • Orgasm denial (giving/recieving) 
  • That teasing smirk of his when he pulls away/out before your climax (orgasm denial)
  • Him a whimpering mess when you pull away (orgasm denial)
  •  Him pulling your head to him so he can kiss you, hard
  •  Him putting his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes or closing his eyes, whilst he rode into you all hot and flustered 
  •  His hair sticking to his head

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Touch (Yoongi/Reader/Taehyung)

Hogwarts!AU Mini Series | One · Two · Three

Originally posted by theseoks

Genre: Smut - Hogwarts!AU

Words: 2.9K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Summary: It was practically set in stone that Gryffindor and Slytherin students weren’t meant to get along, and they often didn’t, not until locked away in the same room as one another with a common task at hand.

Tags: Taegi, threesome, dirty talk, cum play, cream pie, oral, spanking, male/male interactions, voyeurism, use of sex toys, mutual masturbation, etc.

Note: To clarify any confusion, I am reposting my old fics from BGS/theofficialrapmom here on HOBI since I previously removed them from Tumblr. Please do not attempt to send in plagiarism claims, as I assure you, I am the original content creator. For any questions, please feel free to contact me privately off of anon. Anonymous messages in regards to the reposting may be deleted if deemed rude/hateful.


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the signs as guys cumming

ARIES: loud grunting, not a lot of cum but it shoots far as fuck

TAURUS: deep sighing, low grunts, wants to whisper in your ear as he cums inside you

GEMINI: cums loud and fast, will shoot a load anywhere available, preferably your face

CANCER: silent as humanly possible, may whisper a curse word or two. cum usually drips down their dick

LEO: loud grunting, lots of cursing, cums hard but not that much, wants to nut on your ass or back

VIRGO: cursing ALOT, panting and grunting, will ask where you want them to nut on you

LIBRA: whispering curse words, panting. cums gently spills out their dick

SCORPIO: LOUD grunting, maybe even screaming. will shoot a really thick load in any hole

SAGITTARIUS: cursin and praising God at the same time, not a lot of cum, probably jacked his dick to cum everywhere

CAPRICORN: silent like Cancer, but shoots a thick load all the way across the room, will want you to suck the cum out of their dick

AQUARIUS: Lots of moaning, oohs and ahhs. will probably shoot small load on himself

PISCES: takes a long time to cum, a lot of moaning and cursing. will want to shoot a thick load on your titties and tell you to rub it in.

Insatiable

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: The Reader has a weakness for Jensen on stage.

Word Count: 1,704

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! This is ONE of my fics for Smut Appreciation Day! I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always welcomed!!

Request: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing: Can you do Jensen smut, where she watches him sing on stage and get really turned on by his confidence and voice. When he gets off stage she drags him back to the hotel room before he bare can say goodbye to anyone. So very in charge Reader and with the smut - you just do your thing girl :D



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Return to Nessian: A FanFic

Largely thanks to @enchantedtomeetyou22 and everyone who responded to my ‘Nessian: A Problematic Problem’ post, please have this Nessian fic as a thank you.

Summary: ‘Grieving over their father in their seperate ways, Elain and Nesta cannot find solace in one another. And Nesta is fine. She will always be fine. Until she’s not. 

And Cassian, the bastard, is there to catch her.’ 

Warnings: Grief, ACOWAR SPOILERS, hurt/comfort, me trying to sort out my Nessian feelings through fanfic 

Self-Made, Self-Serving (Self-Loathing)

“Stop that.”

“I can’t! He’s dead, Nesta! And they said there’s no way he’s ever coming back.”

“He’s not worth your tears, Elain. Regardless of what he did on the continent, he was a monster. He abandoned and neglected us and then was such a coward as to pretend it had never happened.”

“I don’t care. He was my father. Our father.”

“He was no father of mine.”

Though the two sisters were alone, Nesta was painfully aware that their raised voices would carry through this damned House of Wind like traitors slipping into the night. Against these fae strangers, whom she still had yet to really trust, she could not afford to show weakness between herself and her sister. They had to be one strong, united front. Else she’d really lose everything she’d ever cared for.

“He was,” Elain yelled, her pretty face screwed up in howling fury, tears bleeding from her reddened eyes. “He made you, taught you how to read and write, took you riding, bought you back presents from travelling. He never once did that for me. You were always his favourite.” Glaring at her sister with such bitter anger that for a moment Nesta did not recognise her, she spat, “You’re just too much of a- a bitch to realise it.”

“Elain,” Nesta whispered, her voice hollow. She thought she might be going to be sick.

“No,” Elain snapped. “No, you don’t get to take him from me. You can’t make me like you. I don’t want to be. I want to love him. I never, ever want to be like you.”

For once, Nesta had no snarky comeback, no clever words to defend herself with. Elain was the one person she thought she’d never have to fight. With her, she left herself wide open. And Elain had struck her right where she bled best.

“Get out,” Elain mumbled,staring at the floor for a long minute before charging at her sister and shoving her backwards. “Get out! I don’t want to see you, don’t want to look at you when I think of him. All I think about is how cruel you were to him. How you made him do this. Made him think he had to sacrifice himself to prove his love for us! You killed him Nesta.” Steely eyed, Elain straightened, her once gentle face as sharp and deadly as any blade. “I hate you.”

Nesta did not flee. She had vowed she never would. Would never show fear. Never show weakness. So instead she walked slowly from the room, then marched at a steady pace down the corridor and up the stairs to her own quarters. Only once the door was safely closed behind her did she allow her mask of complete indifference to falter, crack, and fall. Only then did she allow herself to cry.

Her legs no longer able to support her, she sunk to her knees. She had been on a break from combat training for a month now, and yet everything ached. Her soul ached. Sobbing, she gasped and panted and cursed, trying to heave that heavy, cold shield of hers back up, to isolate herself within the thorny boundaries of her body so that she could just stop. Stop feeling. Stop hating everything. Most of all herself.

Yet they couldn’t be stopped. Her emotions, which she kept bottled up so tightly every day, spilled from her like water breaking free of a damn. It was like trying to hold onto sand, grains of pain and self-loathing and grief pouring from the pores in her skin until she stopped trying to hold on and simply wept.

Hard and alien against her thigh, she pulled the wooden carving from her father out of her skirts. It was an ugly, incompetent thing, yet it carried so much in its simple, childish design. So many years of watching her father abandon them mentally and spiritually. So many years of watching him carve these stupid, damned things whilst she fought a private battle of trying to will him to take action.

For Elain had not been wrong. She had once been his favourite. And when misfortune had befallen them, she had been a foolish, foolish little girl. Had believed daddy would be alright and strong and brave so long as she showed him just how much she was hurting. Just how much she despised this new state of inaction he had assumed. By the time she realised he no longer cared what she thought of him, it was too late. She had buried herself in too much armour. Even when she tried, she could not shirk it off. The pain was too much. Had festered too long.

Somewhere along the way, she thought she’d lost her soul.

Yet now it flooded from her like a gaping wound, ruining her muscles and shaking the centre of her bones. The only person she thought she could truly be gentle around had sliced her nape to navel, however metaphorically. And she had been right. She felt empty. Felt broken. For all of those betrayals - her father, Thomas, her sister and the cauldron - had each pushed her down deeper. Proved time and time again that warmth, softness, love, was just asking to get hurt. Only Elain had seemed barren of patient knives.

Yet now she was fae. Now she’d been tainted by this land of war and hatred and morals. Somewhere along the way, Elain had learned to cut people at the throat. It was only a matter of time before she turned on Nesta. After all, it was the fashion. The one thing all these strangers and monsters and sisters had in common. To them, Nesta was someone to be wounded, dragged down. Violated.

Rage clutched at her. As always, she tried to hold it tight, drag it back to her to build into walls and shields and weapons.Yet this time, for some strange reason, it slid and slipped from her grasp like warm butter. What had once protected her now gutted her. Elain, who had once been her rock, her purpose, had banished her.

She was naked before the harsh light of dawn, spraying in through her window.

Could she reconcile with the ghost of her father? For Elain, for Feyre? For herself?

If only he had remained a hateful bastard to the end. If only villains were easy, like Hybern, where no gold dwelled beneath their skin, and they were purely rotten to the core. If only her father hadn’t tried. If only he hadn’t listened to her, she could give her rage some focus. Keep going. Hold herself together.

Instead of collapsing upon the floor.

“Nes?” A soft voice asked as the door opened against the soles of her feet, catching half way. Cassian, giant brute that he was, couldn’t even fit through the gap, though he certainly tried. Grunting, he stopped shoving when he realised what was blocking his path. “Nes. We heard- I thought-” He cut off, swallowing. Nesta barely managed to contain her crying, her breathing ragged and shallow but at least she wasn’t sobbing.

“You want to talk about it?”

No. No, no, no. Nesta never talked about it. Never spoke about it. She couldn’t afford to, couldn’t afford to let anyone in like that ever again. Couldn’t hope a man would bring her some sense of comfort, not after Thomas. Couldn’t hope people could be trusted, not after her father. Couldn’t think others could keep her safe, not after the cauldron.

But what weapons did she have? What comfort? What hope?

She had nothing to lose. So instead of seething for him to go away, she shuffled onto her rear and cried. Cried long and hard and openly, allowing the waves of misery and guilt and sorrow to echo through her body until she became aware of a thick arm around her shoulder, her head cradled to a firm, broad chest. A hand was stroking her hair, a warm, kind voice hushing her, mumbling that it would ‘be okay’. Though she did not let herself believe it, the warmth of body heat and the comfort of the contact soothed her. Finally, she fell quiet.

“Elain didn’t mean it,” Cassian said after a long, long time, his chin rested atop her head. She felt so numb, so exhausted, that she could not bring herself to wriggle free, to feel embarrassed. For once, she let herself relax into the offer of kindness. She could sink no lower after all. “She’s just grieving. She’ll come around.”

“She’s right,” Nesta said, her voice hoarse, barely audible, but she knew Cassian heard and understood her from the way his hand stopped rubbing circles on her back. “I am a bitch.”

“You’re not-”

“No, Cassian, I am. And I’m glad to be. I want to be. It’s what I want to be. My way of…” Of staying safe. Of having some agency in this world of female oppression and viciousness and stupid, unfair destinies. The maliciousness of fate. “I just wish it was easier. Easier to be more than just that.”

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CYOSA - Truth or Dare, part 6: Dean picks dare

Characters: Dean, Leah, Sam and Reader
Location: Motel room, Crappsville, USA.
Word Count: 1408

Summary: This game of Truth or Dare is about to end in the best possible way…

Part 1 - by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Part 2 - by @gemini75eeyore

Part 3 - by @deandoesthingstome

Part 4 - by @rizlowwritessortof

Part 5 - by @saenalife (why can’t I tag you?)

See @littlegreenplasticsoldier‘s MasterMess for all the possible permutations.

Warnings: SMUT, some bi-feels for the reader.

Unbeta’d, but helped out by @manawhaat when I was super stuck:p

Originally posted by frozen-delight

“So… truth or dare?”

Still kneeling in front of you Dean weighed his options for a moment, the flush of his face and the slow, tantalizing rhythm of his breathing making your pulse thump in your ears.

“Oh, I’m all in sweetheart… dare.” He gave you a wink, and then kept his gaze fixed on you through hooded eyes, and you knew exactly what your next move was gonna be.

“I dare you to kiss me whereever the fuck you want, Dean.” You bit your lip at him, knowing full well you were in for a treat after having spurred him on so well mere seconds earlier.

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Occupational Hazard

Therapist!Ignis x Reader
Word Count: 1,930
SFW
For @staticeyes, who is so brave and deserves to be happy ♡

It was your mother that suggested you go to therapy. You didn’t like the idea at first—what would people think of you if they found out you were talking to a shrink? Would they think that there was something wrong with you if they put you on medication? You had all these thoughts racing through your head that you barely registered the sound of the receptionist at the office calling your name.

“Dr Scientia will see you now.”

You pulled open the heavy oak and stepped inside. It was a beautiful office. The ceilings were high, probably twelve or thirteen feet, with a skylight in the ceiling to let in the sun. Books lined the shelves, and there was even a narrow walkway that created a second floor where the library continued, which was held up by thin columns of intricately carved wood.

There was a desk at the far end of the room with some papers and a few open books, and two armchairs in the centre just below the skylight. Your therapist was sitting in one seat, his back facing you. You’d never met him before, but by the looks of the back of his head, he seemed…young.

The door clicked behind you as it shut, and he rose to greet you. When he turned and you saw his face, you tried to hide your initial shock.

He was…handsome. Definitely younger than you had expected, with tawny hair that was spiked back, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. He was dressed in a crisp black suit jacket over top of a deep aubergine button up with a black collar, matching black dress pants and black alligator printed dress shoes. You also realized how tall he was as he strode towards you, his long legs closing the gap in a matter of seconds.

He greeted you and your name falling from his lips sounded almost musical as it hit your ears. “Come right this way,” he gestured to the armchairs in the centre of the room. “Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks, Dr. Scientia.”

“Please,” he waved his hand. “Call me Ignis. I’m not one for titles.”

“Ignis,” you repeated, dropping your bag onto the floor and nestling yourself in the chair’s plush cushions.

“Would you like a beverage?” Ignis offered, gesturing to a small tea and coffee station near his desk. “I have some Ebony brewing, but I also have an assortment of different types of calming tea.”

You shook your head.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me,” he began, pulling out his notebook and a pen before taking the seat across from you. “I know that I am to be your therapist, but I am hoping as well that you will eventually see me as your friend and ally. I am here to assist you in whatever way I can, and if at any point you wish to leave, you are naturally afforded that right.”

You felt your shoulders relax. Something about his demeanour calmed you immediately, and you felt like you could trust him right away. You smiled at him, and he smiled back.

“Let’s begin.”

It had been eight months since you started seeing Ignis. He’d done a lot to help you during your sessions—offered you coping mechanisms, creative outlets, tissues when you needed to cry, and clever puns when you needed to laugh. He was one of the most incredible people that you’d ever met, and you felt your guard slowly lowering around him.

The only problem was that you were starting to develop feelings for him.

You had an internal battle about this. Was it just because he was your therapist, and so by opening up to someone, and having that person be receptive to all your flaws, that you started finding him attractive? You mentally disagreed, remembering that you thought he was handsome when you’d first met, and were entranced by him ever since.

But the fantasy of his lips on yours and his hands roaming your body still came almost nightly. You’d always wake up, a panting mess, cursing yourself for letting it get this far.

It was just a crush, you told yourself. Not like he thinks about you like that anyway.

One day, before your session, you got into a really, really awful fight with your father. You stormed off, tears stinging your eyes, and practically ran to his office.

He was at his desk, writing notes in his leather journal when you burst in through the door.

“You’re early,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. He was about to go back to writing when he noticed your tear-streaked face, and the way your hands were clutched into white-knuckled fists. You collapsed onto the armchair, trying your hardest to stop crying.

It wasn’t working.

Ignis came over to where you were sitting and kneeled in front of you. You were in worse condition than he had ever seen. He offered you a tissue, which you gratefully took, your fingers brushing against his. You hoped redness in your cheeks from crying hid the blush that spread across your face at the brief contact.

“Did you want to talk about it?” He finally asked, taking the seat opposite yours as usual.

You told him everything.

“My father just kept telling me that I wasn’t going to amount to anything,” you sniffled, unable to look Ignis in the eye. “I can’t afford to move out. I can’t get out of bed sometimes. And for my own dad, someone I’ve always looked up to, to say those things about me…” You tried to steady your breath. “For him to say what I’ve always thought about myself, it’s just…it confirmed in my mind what I’ve always been afraid to be true.”

Ignis came to kneel in front of you again. He rested one hand over yours, and the other came up to tilt your chin so you met his eyes. They were the most brilliant shade of green, the colour of shallow ocean water on a summer day. You gulped.

“You,” he stated, “are not worthless. You are someone with a brilliant mind and a beautiful soul. Your father said those things to you out of anger and projection. He is trying to place his burden on you, and I know that you have the fortitude deep down to not let him do it. You are braver than you know, and braver than I can imagine.”

You stared at him, your eyes darting over his face. He looked so sincere and so honest, and the way he squeezed your hand made your heart race. Your eyes traced the curve of his mouth, the soft expression in his gaze, the small freckles that dotted his complexion in faint constellations.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. His eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly agape. It took you a second to realize what you said, and when you did, you ripped your hand away from his, gathered your things and ran from his office.

You ran home, the last place you wanted to be, and slammed the door shut. The house was empty, thank the Six, and you ran up to your bedroom and sobbed into your pillow.

How could you be so stupid? Confessing to Ignis like that, being foolish enough to think that deep down, something could happen between the two of you. He was your doctor, someone you paid to talk to about your problems. And now he wasn’t even that, because you knew that you couldn’t go back to him after your outburst.

You heard a knock at the door from downstairs. You really didn’t want to answer it, but you wiped your face and decided to just suck it up and handle whoever was at the door.

“I’m coming,” you called irritably as the person knocked again. When you swung the door open, you were shocked to see Ignis standing at your doorstep. “W-what are you doing here?” You stammered. And then you lowered your voice. “How do you know where I live?”

“I may have checked your medical records,” Ignis admitted sheepishly. “Most likely a breech of protocol, but I thought it necessary.”

You didn’t move to let him in. You stood at the door way, frozen at the threshold. “So why are you here?”

Ignis took off his glasses and cleaned them off on the hem of his shirt. “I know that you have been through a lot in the recent past,” he began. “I am also cognizant of the fact that as your therapist, I hold a sort of unspoken power over you. It is not something I necessarily want, but it comes with my profession.”

He looked at you and your stare urged him to continue.

“I did not take your confession lightly. I want you to know that. But I also know that I cannot continue our professional relationship as your therapist.” Your heart sank, even though you already considered that outcome. “I’m here because I wanted to speak to you as your equal.”

You were confused, and then realized after a beat that he had stepped closer.

“I thought maybe,” he said, looking you in the eyes, “that my thoughts about you and my feelings towards you were wrong. I’ve never felt this way towards a patient before, and it’s something that could compromise my practice. But when you walked into my office for the first time, I was completely bewitched. I started looking forward to seeing you week to week, and wanted nothing more than to be able to see you outside of our scheduled sessions.”

Your mind was reeling. “W-what are you saying?”

He smiled, looking almost shy. “You’re clever. What do you think I’m saying?”

“Stop being coy and just say it,” you half-demanded, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Instead of using his words, Ignis stepped closer, leaned down and kissed you. After the initial shock wore off, you brought your arms around his shoulders and pulled him against you, his hands coming to snake around your waist.

When he finally pulled away, his arms still holding you tight, you let out a breath. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.”

You swallowed past the dryness in your throat, running your hands along his biceps. “Can we go slow?” You asked timidly. “This is all kind of…unexpected. And I’m not going to lie to you when I say it scares me a little bit.”

Ignis nodded. “I understand it’s overwhelming. But I do want to be with you. I can’t have you as my patient, but I would love to have you as my partner.”

You blushed, burying your face in his chest.

“Come,” he led you away from your house. “Would you like to come have dinner with me?”

You looked up at him and bit your lip, smiling for the first time in a long while. “Okay.”

Still need a way out?

Originally posted by pixie-morgan


Summary/Original Request:
 Arthur finds out he is betrothed to Y/N and at first he loathes the idea, but when he finally meets her he falls in love with her. 

Warnings: None
Word Count: 1910
A/N: I hope you like it, love!



Arthur walked restlessly up and down his room. A behaviour, that his servant, Merlin, could no longer bear to look at.
„Looks like someone is in a specially good mood today.“
„Shut up, Merlin.“ Arthur stopped pacing around the room, and instead looked directly at Merlin.
He just didn’t know what to do.
A week ago, his father had disclosed to him, that he would be marrying (y/n). The Princess of the Kingdom of Reynes. And even though according to his father it would improve the relationship between their two realms, Arthur had not planned on getting married any time soon. Especially not when he didn’t even know his bride.

„Looks to me, as if you were quite nervous“, Merlin said, while folding one of the Prince’s shirts. Immediately Arthur went into a rage. He didn’t have time for his servant’s childish teasing in that moment. „Merlin, I’m going to meet the woman my father chose for me as a bride in a few hours time. Do you really think, your commentary is necessary right now?“ Merlin didn’t answer, and instead pressed his lips together tauntingly. Arthur tried his best to remain calm.
„So unless you know any way out of this, be a good servant for once, and shut up.“
Merlin shrugged. „Just saying. Have you tried to say no?“
Arthur looked as if he was most likely to strangle Merlin. „Oh, thank you Merlin. Just say no to father, I hadn’t even thought of that first.“
Defensive Merlin lifted his hands. „All right, all right, I got it.“

Arthur looked at him one last time warningly, before he sighed, starting to pace around the room again.



Arthur stood outside of the castle. He wore his cloak, the crest of Camelot embroidered on it, while the crown sat heavily on his head.
To his left stood his father, eyes fixed on the carriages that could be seen in the horizon. Slowly Arthur turned his gaze to look the same way, even though he could hardly hide the gloom that reflected from his face.
Right behind him was Merlin, what exactly he was doing Arthur didn’t know, and he actually didn’t care. He had bigger problems than to worry about his servant. Over and over he tried to remind himself to stay calm and friendly, repeating the words he had lain out to greet the King, the Queen and the Princess with, once they climbed out of their carriages. But in the back of his mind, he still searched for some kind of excuse, to blow this engagement off.

After some time the carriages finally arrived. Out stepped a woman, dressed in a long astonishing red gown, a small crown on her head. Right next to her stood the man who Arthur recognised as King Renard. Her husband.
And at last out of the carriage stepped a young woman. The Princess.
Only due to a soft nudge from Merlin, Arthur caught himself in time to close his mouth shut again. She wore a long (f/c) gown, and her (h/l) (h/c) was braided out of her face.
Gracefully she followed her parents, and after she had stepped closer Arthur realised, that she had the most beautiful (e/c) eyes, he had ever seen.

„It is an honour to meet you“, she said, dropping a courtesy, looking rather serious. Though, a soon as her gaze reached Arthur, a tiny smile started to form on her face, that she tried to hide, by quickly looking down at the ground. Arthur regained his posture, for she had most likely been laughing at the dumbstruck expression on his own face, that he now quickly tried to make up for.
„Indeed“, he managed to bring out with a quick bow, squinting his eyes shut, as he silently cursed himself for his own embarassment. He felt Merlin leaning down to him, as he also bowed, whispering something into his ear so that only Arthur could hear it.
„Still need a way out?“





„Rise and shine!“, Merlin exclaimed, as he parted the curtains in Arthur’s room. „Good morning, Arthur. It’s high time to get up.“
Sleepily, and not exactly in a good mood, Arthur rolled over, searching with closed eyes for anything he could throw at his servant.
„And why would that be?“, he growled, his hand closing around a carafe on his nightstand.
„Because Lady (y/n) has been up for a few hours now, and she seems to be having fun with your knights.“
Immediately Arthur sat up, dropping the carafe with a loud bang. „What?“
Merlin grinned at him. „She wanted to practice her sword fighting, and since you weren’t available, I set her up with Gwaine.“ Arthur looked furious.

„You did what?“
Instantly he stood up, trying to straighten his hair. „Merlin, help me get dressed. Quick.“

As fast as he could, without falling down, Arthur jumped into his pants, cursing as he failed to close them properly in his hurry.

Because even though he didn’t want to admit it, in the last week since she had arrived in Camelot, he couldn’t deny, that he had developed rather strong feelings for (y/n). And knowing Gwaine…
Cursing he gestured Merlin over to finally help him into his shirt.



Arthur arrived at the training ground just in time, to see Gwaine standing too close to (y/n) for his taste, giving her tips about how to improve her grip on the sword.
Arthur pressed his lips together, looking out at the pair he was walking towards to with jealousy. (Y/n) wore wide, light brown pants, and a white shirt, that hang loosely around her body.
Finally (y/n) realised his presence and lifted her head. „Oh, good morning, Arthur! Merlin.“
Merlin smiled, but Arthur didn’t exactly feel like laughing. Instead he grabbed Gwaine’s sword, and looked expectantly at (y/n). „I hear you’ve been training.“ She nodded. „I have, yes. Sir Gwaine was so nice as to provide me with a few tips.“
Arthur swung around the sword playfully, not without the intention of showing his skill off a little bit. If there was one thing he was good at, then it was fighting. „Is sword fighting really a sport for a beautiful young lady such as you?“
Almost amused she raised an eyebrow, stepping away from Gwaine and closer towards Arthur, who had to fight the urge to back up as he saw the challenging look on her face. „I heard Lady Morgana is a brilliant fighter with the sword. Furthermore even beautiful ladies have to defend themselves, don’t you think, Arthur?“

With these words she lifted her sword, and started to circle him. And before Arthur knew what was happening, she had attacked him. Quickly Arthur dodged it, but she was faster than he had initially presumed. For a short time he could do nothing other than dodge her attacks, and from get in a few lousy assaults, that she dodged. Until he finally found a gap in her tactic. Quickly he ducked, jumping to the side, holding the knife right to her neck.
She panted heavily, but to his surprise grinned at him, wider than she had never smiled at him before. „Impressive“, she said, and Arthur lowered his sword, slightly proud of himself that after all that failure he had finally managed to impress her.
„It would be an honour if you would teach me a bit more about sword fighting“, she said, before handing her sword back to a servant.
„It would be an honour“, Arthur answered with a bow, before looking back at her, seeing her straightening her shirt. „Tired already?“, he asked her, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. „Uh. I meant-“ But (y/n) just laughed.
„I have been doing this for the past two hours, Arthur. Yes, I am a bit tired. But you could join me tomorrow at the same time.“
And with these words she turned around and headed back to the castle.
Next to him he heard Gwaine whistle. „And you really searched for an excuse to not marry her? Well, if you don’t want to, I would not be far from me to do so instead.”
Arthur furled his brows. „Who told you-“ But then it hit him. „Merlin!“
„Oops, was that a secret?“, Merlin grinned, and ducked, for Arthur had thrown his sword at him.



„You like her“, Merlin grinned, as he hung Arthur’s shirts in his wardrobe.
„Who?“ He tried to play stupid. Maybe then he would finally let him go.
„Lady (y/n), of course. You like her.“
Arthur ran a hand over his face, deeply annoyed. „Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?“
But Merlin simply shrugged. „You haven’t objected. So you do like her.“
„Merlin, I-“
„Admit it, Sire. You’ll be much happier afterwards.“
„Merlin!“
„Just stop lying to yourself, Arthur.“
„Merlin!“, Arthur shouted finally. „I do like her, okay? Can you please shut up now?“
But Merlin simply grinned, carrying on putting Arthur’s clothes back in his wardrobe. „I knew it.“


It was after dinner, and Arthur had bid her outside, now struggling for the right words to say. Being with her was like a blessing for him, yet, most of the time he was tensed, carefully thinking about everything he said. He had really come to like her, and he would never forgive himself if he were to make a fool out of himself in front of her. If he hadn’t done this already.
„I am really glad you decided to visit“, Arthur started, not really sure on how he would go on from there. He was making this up as he went. „Our marriage-“. He stopped and cleared his throat. 

To his relief, (y/n) opened her mouth, to help. „I know. It was our parent’s plans. But, well, the marriage isn’t even scheduled. So if you still need a way out-“

Arthur stopped. „What? Who told you – Merlin.“ He made a mental note to kill him later. Painfully.
To his big surprise (y/n) just laughed. „He did. And I have to admit, at first I wasn’t too fond of this wedding either.“ Arthur nodded slowly, turning his gaze away from her, and sweeping over his kingdom.

„So was I“, he hesitated. „But now“, he started, turning around to face her, his expression serious, „I don’t think that anymore.“ He was determined to at least tell her how he felt, even though – he just realised – the chances of being rejected were rising higher and higher. A sick feeling began to grow in his stomach, and even though he reminded himself, that he was the Prince of Camelot, and she would have to marry him anyways, the feeling wouldn’t vanish. He loved her. But he didn’t want her if she didn’t feel the same for him. He would never dare to force her into an undesired marriage.
But to his surprise, a smile started to form on her face. „Arthur, are you honest?“
He nodded. „Yes. I was persuaded to attend the wedding due to my father’s orders and my duty as the Prince of Camelot.“ He took a deep breath, knowing that now, it would be all or nothing. „But now, I am persuaded to keep that engagement open, not to my duty, nor my orders, but to my heart.“

„Are you sure?“, she asked and Arthur nodded, carefully taking her hands in his. „I have never been more certain of anything else in my entire life.“



requested by anon

3

But enough of my sob stories. The reason I’m blogging about my life in the first place is to warn those wanting to become vampires. Most think the strength, the speed, the immortality are reason enough. But you’ll never feel the warmth of the sun on your skin again, you’ll have an insatiable thirst and you have to watch your friends and family grow old and die all around you.

The third point is why I have no friends. I’m also broke because finding work at night (other than becoming a criminal) is a pain. Plus today is the day I need to pay rent… I wish I knew how to hypnotize the landlor-

*Knock Knock*

“Who the fuc –” It’s 2am. Seriously, I have the rudest neighbours. I could be sleeping for all they kno-

The next knock was much louder 

“OKAY! Jeez, keep your pants on” *curses softly*

First-Hand Adorableness

Fandom - Supernatural

Characters - Dean, Gabriel, Cas

Summary - Cas rarely stops telling Gabriel about Dean. Gabriel wants to witness this so called ‘adorableness’ first hand.

Words - 776

Dean lay on the motel bed, his earphones in, eyes closed, Metallica blasting into his ears. He didn’t hear the sudden flutter of wings, and suddenly feeling something surround him did NOT cause him to let out a small scream and fall off of the bed, of course.

“What the-” Dean groaned from the floor, reaching over to grab his phone and earphones back, not registering a certain trickster grinning at him from the bed, wings outstretched behind him, glowing and golden.

“Hey Dean-o!”

Dean turned his head towards the sound of greeting. “Gabriel? That was your wings on me? It was YOU?”

“No. I just coincidentally happened to turn up directly after whatever you’re referring to happened. Yes, it was me. Anymore stupid questions?”

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Of Course He Will

Asking Simon to the dance doesn’t go as Jace had planned.
(read on ao3)

“Come on, Jace, stop fidgeting and just do it already.” Jace looked at his brother, whose full attention was currently divided between his lunch and the text book he was reading. Jace stopped picking at the plastic wrapper from his own lunch for a moment before he started drumming one hand against the table instead.

“Look, Alec, it’s not that easy,” he said, his free hand running through his hair, “what if he says no? What if he already has a date, Alec?” His brother rolled his eyes before finally looking up at him, sighing heavily.

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compassion. | 3 [finale]

Originally posted by jeonsshi

1 | 2

not requested.

“Your ass looks great.” “Will you fuck off for a second?”

“You’ve really fucked me over this time.”

“Please let me in.”

genre: fuckboi!jungkook, roommate!jungkook, smut, angsty?

It was one night while you were watching TV and Jungkook came out of the shower, looking somewhat frustrated. “What’s wrong love?”, you asked the guy who only had a towel around his lower body. “I’ve got a hard on and jerking off just won’t do it for me.”

“I’ll help you, come here love.”, you said as you pat the empty seat next to you. Jungkook sat down, somewhat uncomfortable because of his erection but he was trying to keep his cool. “Now let me just take off your towel.”, you smirked as you removed it, revealing his size.

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