delicious temptation

Pool balls and underpants

Summary: Bucky offers to teach you how to play pool, but he ends up in a slightly awkward predicament.
Characters: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Language, lots of innuendos, Bucky being little shit
Story prompt: “I made the mistake of thinking ‘This can’t get weirder.’ Sorry.”

A/N: First time I’ve done a writing challenge of any kind, thanks @jurassicbarnes​ for letting me take this one!  I haven’t written anything fluffy in awhile, this felt necessary, and it may require a smutty style follow-up. Also, while I may be a complete shit talker IRL, I am terrible at pool and don’t know what I’m doing, so hopefully this makes sense. And I really need to find someone to edit my wordy ass…

A/N 2: Oh look, I wrote a sequel. Another kinky wager.


Originally posted by go-fandom-imagines

It was a little known fact – you adored dive bars. Everything smells musty? Great. All the tables feel sticky? Perfect. The decor resembles a 1970’s porn set? Bitchin.

It was a complete contradiction to your work persona. Your name was uttered in hushed, reverent tones in the halls of the Avengers compound, commonly followed by the phrase ‘that woman gets shit done.’ Frankly, you worked your ass off to get to this point, so the satisfaction of being known as the one who was always cool, always calm, always poised – it was a heady feeling.

It’s because of your rigid work environment that you gravitated toward the local bar. It was one place you could let your guard down, unwind and relax. Distancing your professional and personal life was a necessary ingredient in your sanity, a dichotomy you actively encouraged.

And then one day out of nowhere, Bucky Barnes swaggered into your life.

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A Waltz with the Clown


This one-shot is based off a confession submitted to @pennywiseconfessions in which the reader dances with Pennywise like in Beauty and the Beast.  Rated M for language and sexual content.  The confession that inspired this can be found here: 


“Dance, my little precious, dance!” Pennywise squeals as he kicks his legs out, one after the other in the most grotesque and jarring of jigs.  He stands behind you, guiding your movements along with his own, like a puppet muster with your limbs attached to imaginary strings.  Your body jerks this way and that way, being manhandled roughly and without finesse.  One wrong movement, just one sudden yank, and you’re sure your arm will dislocate from your shoulder.  You move along as best you can, trying your damnedest to match his superhuman speed and ferocity to avoid the seemingly unavoidable injury that is bound to happen if he keeps this up for much longer.  

You hate it when he gets like this, which is usually after he feasts on some sorry preadolescent urchin.  He always returns on a high, squealing and yapping, prancing and pouncing.  He is like a hurricane entering land, tearing everything in his path, bursting through the side door of the wagon where you are kept chained to its wheel.  The sound of hysterical laughter and high-pitched howls precede him, and when his bloodshot yellow eyes finally fix upon you, you know what you’re in for.  The stench of blood and pain overshadows the usual scent of cotton candy and popcorn that usually emanates from him.  He lunges for you then, and though most times you end up in some twisted, contorted position crying and moaning in pleasure and pain, sometimes you end up like this, becoming his marionette.  Like a rag doll, you’re yanked in all directions as he dances his high away.  And still, when he’s spent and sitting wide-legged on the wooden floor of the wagon, he reaches for you.  The end game is always the same: Mania culminates in ferocious fucking.

“You’re not dancing!” he yells, stopping suddenly and turning you forcefully to face him.  His bloody face is only two inches from your own, and his sulfurous eyes burn into yours.  You try not to gag, partly at the stench of death on him, partly out of vertigo.

“You call this dancing?” you manage to pant, turning your head away.  Even the stench of the sewer beyond the confines of his tower would be preferable to the one he carried now.  

He glares at you for a few seconds longer, then he pouts and shakes his head in disdain, the bells of his clown suit jingling.  How dare you refuse him!  Or challenge him! You, the little toy he kept for his own amusement, actually had the gall to defy your captor.  A growl begins to build in his throat, its deep vibration shaking you to your very core.  One wrong step, and he wouldn’t think twice of snapping your neck, or even worse, tear your traitorous windpipe out of throat and wear your guts for garters.  You get on the bad side of the clown, and you end up floating twenty feet in the air with the rest of his half-eaten prey.

“Can I show you something different?” you say coyly, lowering your head in submission but looking up at him.  You smile sweetly, and reach out to take his hand.  He looks down at your hand clutching his, looks back up at you, and you nod reassuringly.  Your invitation is genuine.  You know he has moments when he is playful, sweet even, like a petulant child reveling in the scraps of attention given to him.  But then, just as quickly, he can snap.  You know your survival thus far has depended on those moments in which you manage to keep him placated.  Will he now be the monster, or the playful child?

Slowly, the corners of his mouth begin to twitch, and the most mischievous smile plays on his lips.  Your own smile grows wider, and the two of you giggle in unison.  His eyes shine when he notices the twinkle in yours and he knows just exactly what idea has sprung in your head.  He always does.

“I’ve never danced the waltz” he says, half embarrassed “it seems so… dull”

“That’s because you’ve never had a partner” you quip, taking a step closer.  He goes to grab you, but you take a step back.  His smile is instantly gone.

“Uh uh” you tease “first you must… you know… take care of that” you say, wiggling your finger at his bloodied mouth.  

“Ah!” he exclaims in his childlike voice.  He lets go of you, and shakes his body vigorously.  Then, instantly, all traces of his meal are gone.  His face and suit are clean, his hair is perfectly coiffed, and he once again smells of sweets and butter.  Like a walking circus, you think to yourself, a smorgasbord of delicious and enticing temptations.

“Ta-da!” he exclaims, throwing his arms out in an exaggerated gesture, causing you to laugh.

“That’s more like it.  Now, put your arms around me” you instruct, and take hold of his right gloved hand and place it at the hollow of your back.  Your right hand now takes his left, and he instinctively pulls you in close, so suddenly that your noses almost crash into one another’s.  For a moment you remain thus, locked his in his embrace with his breath ghosting over your lips, noses nearly nuzzling.  Your eyes drown in his, and were it not for his façade and restraint, you would be sure to lose yourself in the deadlights simmering within.  Still, even after all this time, you wonder how you’ve managed to keep your sanity.

“Um…” you stammer, but you’re so close, so engulfed by him, that if you surrender and close the inch between you, dancing would give way to the inevitable end.  But not yet.  You do not wish to lose this moment in which the monster is tame just enough to enjoy the calm that hides beneath the tempest of his nature.  You feel jolts of electricity spark and sputter deep in your belly, sending waves that pulsate out to your brain and the tips of your toes.  He is standing so still, his hold on you firm and unwavering, his gaze fixed and unblinking.  You want to, no, need to give in…

“Follow my lead” you manage to get out, and a faraway voice in your head marvels at how you managed to keep your composure.  He is teasing you, just as much as you are teasing him.  A thin line of drool begins to slide down his bottom lip.
You take a step forward with your left foot, and his right foot goes back.

“Now move to your left with me” you instruct as you slide to the right, and he joins you.  

“Now with the opposite foot, your left, you go forward and I go back with my right”

He is focused on the footwork, no longer looking at you.  When your feet join once more on the third step and you slide back to the first position, his eyes go wide with understanding.

“Like a square!” he exclaims, sounding like a four year old preschooler.

“Exactly” you laugh.  God, he could be so fucking adorable sometimes.  Damn him.

“Let’s do it again” he says and begins the routine.  “Right back, step left, together, now left front, step right, and together again”

“Oh wow, you got it!  Now, follow the same routine as we move around”

Slowly, you make a turn around the small wagon.  Then another.  As his movements become more fluid, he smiles and laughs happily in his throat.  He begins to pick up speed, and soon you are nearly flying around the small space.  Suddenly, he lets go of you, and you nearly stumble.  His mouth and brow are pursed in discontent.

“That isn’t right” he mutters.

“What’s wrong?” You ask alarmed.  Oh no.

“Music’s not right” he says.  Your eyes widen with realization and nod.  The calliope music that is currently blasting through the tower stops, and he now stands with one foot tapping in unison with his index finger that taps his lip.  He is thinking of waltz music, but can’t really place it, or recall it.

“Da da da dum… ting ting” you hum, remembering the classical piece with which you once learned to waltz, standing on your father’s shoes as a small girl.  A pang of sadness hits your heart, but you quickly brush it away.  Pennywise’s eyes go wide, he sticks his finger in the air, and his mouth opens in a wide, toothy smile.  As if on cue, the beginning notes of Tale as Old as Time begin echoing off the walls of his tower.  Your hands go to your mouth in shock.

“How do you know?!” you gasp, and he winks.  Beauty and the Beast has always been your favorite fairy tale since you first watched it enraptured at the tender age of five.  Now, a month shy of your thirtieth birthday, you stood before your very own Beast.

“Something is still wrong” Pennywise pouts, then he gives you the most lecherous grin.  With a snap of his fingers, the tattered clothes you wear transform into the puffiest, sparkly, and most glamorous yellow ball gown.  Your hair is now pulled into the prettiest half-do, and your feet are wrapped in gold slippers.  You look down at your hands in amazement as a pair of immaculate white gloves materialize up to your elbows.  You look up at Pennywise, and you are met with the view of a clown staring at you stupefied.  His mouth is agape, and his eyes shine with adoration.  You have no chance to react as he swoops you up suddenly, and he jumps out of the wagon, landing at the edge of his pile of keepsakes.  His high-pitched laughter mixes with your own.  

He places you on the floor, and pulls you against him once more.

“Now we can dance” he purrs into your ear, sending shivers through you.  You say nothing, for no words were needed.  Not now.  You lean into him, and as the song begins to build, you let him lead.  He waltzes flawlessly, and you and Pennywise begin to glide around the tower.  The small waterfalls of water that fall into the cisterns around the structure begin to magically glimmer, and as you splash around in the puddles of the floor, orbs of silver light begin to float upwards from the ripples in the water.  You are wrapped in a cocoon of silver white, and move transfixed, hypnotized by the way his eyes seem to shine brighter than ever before.

Around and around you go, and then much to your delight, he begins to twirl you.  He holds on to your hand as you turn outwards, then pulls you back in and he lifts you high in the air, his joyous laughter causing you to soar higher, higher, higher, until you seem to be floating, only to be brought back down into the safe anchor of his arms.  Without even realizing it, you begin to sing.

“Ever just the same… ever a surprise… ever as before… ever just as sure… as the sun will rise…”

“O0h ah ha ha ha ha ha… sing!” Pennywise exclaims “SING!”

The song now reaches its crescendo, and you feel weightless.  Careless.  Free.

“Tale as old as time… song as old as rhyme…”

He slowly brings the dance to a close.

“Beauty and the Beast” your voice fades, along with the song.  The two of you now stand still, eyes locked, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Your heart beats wildly, and if he had a heart, you would be damn sure its rhythm would match your own.

“So that’s the waltz” he breathes.  All is quiet, save for the gentle stream of the waterfalls and the haunting lullaby of his prey floating above.

“Kiss me” you whisper.  A small smile tugs at one of the corners of his mouth and he crashes his lips against yours.  You finally allow yourself to become lost, you surrender to his magnetizing pull.  You drown into the deep and delicious ocean of his mouth as the magic dissipates and his clawed hands tear at the aged and faded clown dress you normally wear.  You welcome it, you crave it.  This was your destiny, to become a prisoner of the creature that feeds on the youngest of your kind, the monster that haunted your dreams and now inhabits your waking.

Now, as your cries of ecstasy echo off the wooden beams inside the brightly lit circus wagon, tears of gratitude spill from your eyes.  For no matter what horrors await you tomorrow, at least just for one night, you were a Beauty, and he was your Beast.

The End.  


If you liked this oneshot please check out my new multi chapter fic: A Monster for a Mate

six feet under — part one.

summary: you meet him at church, he might just be satan | au

pairing: biker!bucky x reader

word count: 1820

warnings: smoking, mentions of religion

a/n: another series for you guys whilst i start writing my tony stark sugar daddy series and plus who doesn’t love bad boy bucky!

The cigarette hangs between his lips like a chain as his bruised and tattooed calloused hands run over his face, exhaustion steadily creeping up on the man in front of you. His eyes shift to yours and he gives you a smirk before pulling the cigarette from his lips, “Can I help you with something, babygirl?” He asks his signature grin never once swaying, you swallow thickly your eyes daring to look at him and when you do you can’t help the fire that ignites inside of you.

You stay quiet, your breath taken away because the man in front of you with the long jet-black hair and leather jacket that clung to him was mesmerising. You had never seen a man like him before in your life. “Cat got ya tongue?” He asks chuckling darkly when you don’t reply.

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Sleepover (ACOTAR AU)


Hey guys,
this is a short fic I came up with today. I might add a second part, probably from Feyre’s perspective from the morning after. Let me know if you’d be interested.

Word count: [2069]

Next part >>>

Rhys woke up with a start when he felt his bed dip under the weight of another person. For a moment, he thought he was back with his crazy ex Amarantha and she had come to harass him during his sleep, like she used to do, but when he opened his eyes, he found he was in his own spacious bedroom. The yellow light of the streetlamp in front of his townhouse filtered through the window, allowing him to make out the shapes of his armoire, closet and the figure of the woman, who had crawled into his bed in the middle of the night.

Rhys took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. Not because he was still battling the shock that had startled him out of sleep. No, because the woman, who had unceremoniously thrown herself onto his mattress and now started snoring softly, was the woman he had desperately been in love with for the past year, only she didn’t seem to realize it and he was too much of a coward to confess.

Rhys turned over and gently shook her shoulder, trying to wake her. She smelled of booze. “Feyre?”

Feyre mumbled something incoherently and buried her face deeper into his pillow. Rhys shook her a bit harder. “Feyre, wake up, this is my bed.”

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MAN that was a long day.  

Woke up at 5 a.m. to get to the venue by 6:30 a.m.  
Event from 7:45 a.m. to 1 p.m.
Back to the office by 1:30 stayed until 5 p.m.
Gym from 5:30 - 6:30 p.m.
Home for dinner, cooked by awesome husband.
Cleaned all the dishes and kitchen
Collected trash from around the house and took out the bins for trash & recycling day tomorrow
Made our keto chows for tomorrow
Put all of my work and gym stuff away
Finally sit down on the couch - 8:40 p.m.

Surprisingly enough, with all of this going on, I was in a great mood and even super hyper by the time I got home from the gym! I’ll take it!  I’m sure I’ll crash soon enough.  

I was somewhat successful at avoiding all the delicious temptations at the event today.  I didn’t taste any of the danishes or bagels, omg they were blueberry bagels and hearing my coworker eat the toasted bagel (droool), that crunch made me visualize eating it myself and how good it would taste.  At lunch I avoided the chips, double fudge brownies & cookies, giant sandwiches, and potato salads.  I did load up on lettuce and ranch then in a moment of weakness I grabbed half a hummus and grilled vegetable wrap.  I’ve been so used to the low carb tortillas that I forgot how full of carbs a wrap is :(  Thanks MFP for that not so pleasant reminder. AND I grabbed a cup of soup because, well, I wanted it and I justified it in my mind.  Even though with every bite I was convincing myself that I could taste flour (in a delicious but guilty way).  It could have been WAY worse though, but does that make up for it?  Eh, probably not.  Oh well, I’m not quite losing weight right now anyway.   Speaking of which…


Starting Weight (7.10.17): 260

Last Week’s Weight (11.29.17):  239.6

Today’s Weight (12.6.17): 239.5

Total Weight Lost in 1 Week: 0.1 pound

Total Weight Lost in 4 Months:  20.5 pounds

Lol, so yeah.  There we have it.  This is what I get for not tracking my calories for way too long and when I do, tracking them after I eat.  Cool cool cool.  

To Smut or Not To Smut...

…that was the question, yestereve.  The answer appears to be a resounding yes. And so for @baobao0331@isabeau13 @glitterkitty4ever @ember–gleams–music @85natalie @bamcrux @strangelock221b @nochillscientist @lost-in-wonderful-wonderment @letterstosherlock @tsukuyomi011@mouseymodesty@garuda-dreams-of-rain @ben-locked  (I promise it’s not a fatal dose, my dear :-D )

A taste of smut from the next chapter of my Khanbatch fic.  I hope you find this bit of a tease…satisfying

(chapter 8)

His little desert rose had yielded to him as readily as he had expected.  So deliciously soft as he kissed her, allowing his every advance while molding her supple body against him without hesitation, thus confirming what he’d known within the hour that they’d met—she wanted him.  Despite the dire situation he’d dragged her into, despite her very rational reasons to fear him and the dubious fate he might bring her to, despite simple common sense and the instinct for self-preservation, she wanted him.

What he hadn’t foreseen was how badly he’d come to want her.

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By The Bayou

Reader Request: Hi!! I saw u were doing request, I was wondering if you could so a samx reader. along the lines where they go on a bad hunt and the character gets hurt and sam blames himself and distance himself from the character because of his background with girls never ended well so the character leaves and he goes after her?? something along those lines and maybe some fluff and smut?? Thank you! no one have written any of my request yet so if u did it would be awesoem - (requested by @kylea-iamdivergent )

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 6,410

Warnings: Fluff, Language, Smut (unprotected sex)

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took a while to get out! I hope you like it!! It’s a bit long but…I kinda liked the idea of a slow-paced…love scene…*nervous laugh*


The hallway was pitch black. I could hear the low menacing growl coming from somewhere inside the house. It was distant but loud at the same time. My spine tingled with crazy anticipation at what I might find at the end of this god forsaken hallway. A part of me knew that separating myself from Sam and Dean was a bad idea, but my first thought was that if we separated, we’d get the job done faster.

Boy, was I wrong.

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What makes a person so unique and where lies the secret of sexual attractiveness. To my experience…SEDUCTIVE CHARM. Seduction…what a powerful word…so meaningful and signifying. Unleash all your imagination…stimulating all you’re lust and hidden desires…spreading all my charm and feminine elegance in delicious temptation to whisked my lovers away from reality by beguiling their senses…and mine…mmmmm…moan. Seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do. I love to be a medium to build-up all you’re secretly hidden desires into that magical point of no return. I am ready and eager to loose all my dignity and boundaries for YOU…please… lead me into a breathtaking apotheose. You have that illuminated power to transform me in that where i am been truly gifted…a submissive cockaddict whore that loved to be humilated on a sexy (butterfly-stomach) way. Moaning and begging…gasping for breath…bathing in sweat…only lead by my sensorially experience that fully dominates my mind and body. Love you

haiz…..why nana’s christmas blog is food T.T…
well during rehearsal they had salad and chicken (as usual) but in the healthy way XD and went on date with SAYURI her close friend at organic restaurant 
lol nana really going healthy style..she trying to control her diet ^^;;

then the 1st photo up here is Yabuki producer birthday, this time they able to surprise him XD, but he is trying to avoid sugar ^^;; so nana forbid him to eat the cake XD he went along with cherry boys and mishi-p to eat some ramen
Nana also wish he able to avoid delicious temptations during New Year ^^;;;

music fair~~ will be broadcast on jan 6 2018 and singing Suiren and collaboration with LiSA and Kondo Masahiko singing her long lost brother’s Midnight Shuffle  (joking lol XP it just so happen his family and nana is kondo XD)

during Nana magazine interview, Tokihiro Nakamura Ehime Prefecture governor appeared, she able to talk to him…..and trying to direct negotiations about Iyo Festival ^^;;; (is her next goal of her dream, is like inazuma rock festival)
and she got very soft fluffy towels from him XD

famous yamamoto Nori rice cracker…(i abit lazy to understand here, having flu)

Omama detect Nana is having trouble/busy with her life/work/issue lol (ahem her robo kill 2 times by….*stare at photo* lol) so she came to Nana home to take care of Keitan, but only 3 days for Omama also is busy like Nana (likely her own job) lol nana commented that Keitan is saying “nana dont care about me..T.T” lol….thats not true!! she is working like hell XP and Nana also said keitan is being sticky towards Omama XD

anonymous asked:

i don't know if u accept requests, but can i have more fluff with Seven? He's just so cute I'm so obsessed with him and I love how you write him//∇//)○

hehehe awww thank you!!! your ask makes me sososo happy im still smiling eeee. well tbh requests are closed coz of busy stuff but HEY that never stopped me lmao so heres a sweet saucy fluff <3

His eyes burned the longer he looked at the laptop screen.

 Nimble fingers typed the letters without ever looking at the keyboard, Luciel squinted slightly to make sure that the numbers were aligned correctly; the last thing he wanted was to make a mistake in the algorithm.

 Amidst all the deep focus he was in, his eyes caught sight of slim fingers holding a small piece of vanilla cake.

 He didn’t look at her, but a smile did finally curve at the corners.

 Eyes still glued to the screen and fingers endlessly typing away, Luciel opened his mouth and moved his heart towards the succulent piece. However, he soon realized that the cut cake was moving farther and farther away from him. But instead of looking at the bearer of the delicious temptation or even bothering to ask the reason it was slipping away, Luciel just inclined closer and closer to the piece with his eyes focused on the numbers and mouth still gaped open.


 But alas, all attention he had for his work crumbled into pieces once he felt soft lips kissing his right cheek.

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But what about Carol’s less visually frightening weapons used inside Alexandria - her diabolical cookies?
Sanders laughs and reveals he was the actual Baker of those delicious temptations.
‘I think Scott (Gimple) came up with the recipe, but it was an egg-less, milk-less cookie that was made with apple sauce and chocolate.
I had a local baker make it, so it’s a real recipe and it really does work.
Those cookies are phenomenal!
We had to test how much chocolate or little chocolate she could use, so we baked a lot of cookies. They were never left over after we brought them to meetings.
Yes, on the walking dead I making cookies.’

John Sanders - “Master At Arms - Carol’s Sniper Rifle and Cookies”

*TWD Official Magazine Issue #14, Fall 2015 - page 53*

anonymous asked:

Hey, have you seen the #location gothic meme going around Tumblr? If you had to make one up (say, Vos Gothic, or Iacon Gothic), what would it be?

You soar in over Hyperious, bound for home after a long night of socializing. As your weary optical sensors fix on the burning glitter of the skyline, you see something lifeless staring back.

A young mech with the diction of an old mech recommends an oil bar at the 49th crossing. It may very well be delicious, but resist the temptation. Everyone knows that the bots who drink there don’t come back the same. 

The video surveillance on the towers is impeccable. Your neighbors greet you with lifted wings. Don’t ask about the 37th floor. The view from your window is like no other.

The Statue of the Lost Traveler is more peaceful than its popularity would suggest. If you sit beneath Parallax’s left wing at exactly the right time of day, you may just catch the sound of wet chewing.

You power down to Farglide’s Mix, because Farglide’s Mix is best enjoyed in a state of half-consciousness. “Good night, dream on, and keep listening,” he signs off. His optics dart from side to side, avoiding the space beyond the camera lens like his very life depends on it.

The dry days stretch on forever this year, and everyone laughs about how Primus must be Vosnian at spark. They carefully avoid mentioning that one season when it did not rain water.

Countdown to Mockingjay: Day 69/100

Banner was made by the talented Caryn @papofglencoe!

I hope everyone has been enjoying the countdown and finding it useful. I hope you found some new stories/authors to read. Remember, the authors are in no particular order.

If you’d like to follow my countdown you can track the tags #mjcountdown and #mjcountdownffauthors. You can also find the list on my blog here:  HAPPY READING!

Author 270: mrsbonniemellark

Story: Nightmares

  • Status: In Progress
  • Type: Multi-Chapter
  • Rating: M
  • Canon/AU: Post MJ AU
  • Warning/Trigger: None provided by author
  • Summary: Katniss and Peeta find comfort in each other. “Eventually, our sobs dissipate and we sleep, clinging to each other as if we would drown without the other.”
  • Why I chose this fic: A lovely post MJ story.


Author 271: outofthemarr

Story: Never Do Us Apart

  • Status: Complete
  • Type: Multi-Chapter
  • Rating: K
  • Canon/AU: AU
  • Warning/Trigger: None provided by author
  • Summary: Katniss and Delly are best friends who force Peeta, Delly’s little brother, to play groom with them in order to create their dream wedding when they are kids. Follow their story as promises are made, hearts are broken and wedding plans are destroyed causing a war between the two friends
  • Why I chose this fic: I love this two part story based off The Bride Wars.


Author 272: sagittaria-sagittifolia

Story: Delicious Temptation

  • Status: Complete
  • Type: One-Shot
  • Rating: K
  • Canon/AU: AU (Could be canon)
  • Warning/Trigger: N/A
  • Summary: “I can`t do it. I can`t do it. It is wrong, so wrong. I would never be able to see into Peeta’s eyes again. The thought to betray him, to abuse his trust makes me ill. What a sleazy, obnoxious person I would be if I would do it. But the temptation is too great." 
  • Why I chose this fic: I would have done the same thing if I was in Katniss’ situation.

anonymous asked:

I dunno if it isn't too late but here is another prompt: It's your first day on your new job in the hospital and you just run into hot!doc who stole your parking lot earlier today.

Hey cupcake!

Here’s your prompt. I combined it with @izzybabewoods’s one which was “sunshine” (very freeform -pun intended- I’m sorry). I hope it’s okay.

Available on Ao3 here.

I hope you like it. 

It’s seven in the morning and Alec has already decided that this day will now be referred to as “The Very Bad, No Good, Terrible, Horrible Day”.

First, he overslept. Something, he never ever does.

He blames Izzy and Jace entirely. They had insisted on celebrating the start of his internship at Brooklyn Hospital the night before. He had been working hard to be a medical intern for years and he could finally see the end of the road so it was indeed something to celebrate. Why he had forgotten that his siblings could go overboard was beyond him.

They had ended up in a night club not far from the apartment they shared. He hated the place but since it was close enough, he had foolishly hoped that he would be home early. Clearly, he needs to rethink his logic. After Jace had shoved one, then two, then countless drinks in his hands, he had lost track of the time, control of his body and, if the headache that is now making his head throb achingly is anything to go by, of his mind too.

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