god i love the way she dances

DATING CAMILA MENDES WOULD INCLUDE

since nobody is writing about how camila is sooooooooo girlfriend material (and im so in love with her), here it is:


•  it all started with you two being good friends, and as friends, you kept getting closer and closer

when she found out that you were into girls she smiled so big for herself 

• bc you were this cute girl that since she looked at you she wanted to get to know better 

• at first you texted a lot, and everytime she saw something funny she sended it to you

• bc she knew it would make you laugh and that would make her really happy

• then you started hanging out everytime that she wasnt filming for riverdale, like in between takes you’d go to where she was and take her to grab lunch or something

• you tried getting spoilers from her but even tho she really trusted you already she couldnt tell anything

• but she loved how you got so frustrated bc you. needed. to. know.

• so she teased you a lil bit, saying things like ”this may or may not happen”

HOW SHE ASKED YOU TO BE HER GIRLFRIEND before that everybody thought you were a couple anyway

• you were sick, like really sick, so she being the caring “friend” that she is showed up at your place w some soup, and why not flowers (something that she learnt from playing veronica) 

• even tho you melted when you saw her with all of that, you didnt want her around  because you were afraid shell get sick too

• but she didnt care, she sat right next to you on the couch and put some movie on netflix

• you were falling asleep with your head on her shoulder and she was looking at you, playing with your fingers

• she probably wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend “properly” like, with a long speech  and give you maybe some chocolate or candy

• but while looking at you the words spilled from her mouth

• “hey do you wanna me like, my girlfriend?”

• “what”

• “what”

• both of you started laughing and oFC YOU SAID YES I MEAN

• so thats how you started dating

• thats when all the fun began hehehe jk

• her phone and yours would be filled with silly photos of you two

• you know that video of her cooking and laughing about it in her ig story? you’d have tons of them doing mostly everything

• like one day, she took your phone while you were showering bc she was bored and her phone didnt have any battery, and going through your camera roll she found this video you took from her while she was watching her favorite movie because you loved how her eyes lighted up whenever her favorite scene was on the screen and how loud she screamed when something “surprising” happened even tho she watched it thousands of times

• she would do the same, because you’d have that kind of relationship

• she comments on every single one of your pics, really short comments like “i love you” “im in love” “mOM” “gorgeous” “mine”

• her mom loves you, and likes to cook for you bc she seems so nice and lovely

• when she is mad over something really silly, she starts speaking portuguese and you just stare at her while she’s screaming walking around the room until she let it all out

• “i was doing it again?” “yup” “im sorry”

• but theres times where you two are cuddling facing eachother and she is putting your hair behind your ear while smiling and shed say “eu tenho tanta sorte“ or “você é tão bonita”

• you wouldnt get anything of what she said (and she probably wouldnt tell you) but youd smile so big because you knew it was something nice and when she speaks in another language is the cutest thing ever

• PDA !!!!! lots of pda

• but not the annoying type like sucking eachother faces in public, but holding hands, long hugs, cheek kisses, forehead kisses !!!

• at least twice a week you go out to eat or have a cute coffee date, talking bout life sitting infront of eachother, holding hands over the table

• she never fails to make you laugh, she’s always doing goofy things or trying to imitate someone (and failing)  just to put a smile on your face

• its 2:34 AM, the lights are gone, the only source of light is coming from your computer screen and you two are dancing in the living room to some random spotify playlist

• you can go from steamy hot makeout session on the couch to sloppy slow kisses filled with love

• she sings to you whenever you ask her 

• she is probably singing 24/7 GOD BLESS HER ANGELIC VOICE

• but if you’re having a rough time or you’re feeling sad, she sings to you in a low tone kinda whispering, while smiling sweetly 

• i dont think she is the jealous type  ? but if anyone is looking at you in a way that they shouldn’t she’d wrap an arm around your waist, not like in a “she’s mine back off” type of way, but in a sweet “i love her dont steal her from me” type of way im crying 

• SHE. IS. A. TEASER. LIL. ****

• you tried cooking together, but you endend up getting too “distracted” and burning the whole thing

• “lets order pizza” “but i dont want pizza” “what do you want?” “you”

• she appreciates you and loves you so much bc if she is dating you she is 100% focused on you so she wouldnt be the annoying cheesy type, but definitely cheesy

• when she is away filming or busy with her work she sends you selfies doing funny faces, or videos at set with the cast, or a pouty selfie with a “cant wait to get home :(” that makes you melt inside who wouldnt

• PET NAMES !!! she probably calls you “love/babe/gorgeous”

• and she is your little nugget, of course

• play nights at your place with her friends (and yours) happen a little too often, because is everything you love and need: wine, charades, friends, and eachother

PLAYING CHARADES AND SHE BEING THE ONE TO GUESS WILL BE KINDA LIKE THIS: “oh oh oh i know that one!” “pETER PAN!” “no??? mmmm aLICE IN WONDERLAND!” “what, no?” “WHAT THE HECK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN BABE?!?!?” “no wAY IT WAS F HAPPY FEET”

but it doesnt matter is you win or lose the game at the end of the night, bc she’d wrap her arms around you and say “i win, i have you”

i love her so so so so much okay?????? it ends right here before i start crying she is the most precius lil bean bye

tw: @softnessmalik
heathers songs rated on the appearance of heather macnamara
  • beautiful: she is indeed there, beautiful and pure. however, no leading lines really 6/10
  • candy store: the whole Sesame Street thing is some good shit 8/10
  • fight for me: where did my flower go?? sad day, friends (but this song is still lit) 1/10
  • freeze your brain: 0/10 no macnamara anywhere
  • big fun: she is there and singing! but she is making fun of Martha, not good 4/10
  • dead girl walking: too dirty for my child -3/10
  • me inside of me: fav song but little to no mac so 2/10
  • blue: girl almost got date raped no way honey -1200/10
  • our love is god: her almost-date rapist got killed so 👌 1/10
  • my dead gay son: she appears! just dancing but still 2.7/10
  • seventeen: good job guys but no macnamara -1/10
  • shine a light: there she is, shining her beautiful rays of light 4/10
  • lifeboat: BABY CHILD NO GOD I WANT TO HUG YOU (but also solo!!!! rock it) 11/10
  • shine a light reprise: soft cries 9/10
  • kindergarten bf: soothing, takes away the pain of heather m not being there 3/10
  • yo girl: SHIT YES but also no macnamara 0/10
  • meant to be yours: she's in ensemble, my baby 3.6/10
  • dead girl walking reprise: CHEER YOUR HEART OUT BABY "CMON WESTERBURG" SO CUTE 13500/10
  • i am damaged: sad, cry, whatever shES NOT THERE -12/10
  • seventeen: friendship ^^ 10/10
Three Times Mulder and Scully Got Caught and One Time They Didn’t Care -- Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Rating: Explicit

Author’s Notes: Here it is, folks. The conclusion to this smutty little journey. This series has been an absolute blast to write. It was definitely a challenge dipping my toes into pools of different writing styles, but I had a ton of fun writing this. Thank you so much to all of you for reading and for leaving wonderful bits of feedback. As always, thank you so very much to the beautiful @piecesofscully for being an incredibly encouraging beta and someone with whom I can shamelessly spiral. Thanks, babe! 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She is nearly done with organizing the last of her slides in her designated area near the back of the newly reconstructed basement office when she is startled by a loud thump.

“Scully! Door!” Mulder demands, his voice muffled behind the closed door.

“It’s unlocked, Mulder!” She yells back.

She leans down to her microscope once more only to be startled again by yet another loud thump.

“Scully!”

“Jesus, Mulder,” she mutters under her breath as she crosses to the door.  She swings it open to reveal her partner balancing two cardboard boxes precariously stacked one on top of the other.

He stumbles toward his desk and drops his cargo loudly onto the clean surface, the dust from the boxes soaring into the air like infectious spores. She waves them off with a flick of her wrist.

“What is all this, Mulder?”

He looks at her sideways before lifting the lid off the top box. “Files.”

Scully’s eyes involuntarily shift to the series of filing cabinets that line their freshly painted walls. “Mulder, what files? These X-Files stayed in this office the entirety of Agent Fowley and Agent Spender’s assignment.”

Mulder’s silence screams at her as he steadfastly ignores her and thumbs through the various folders.

“Right? Mulder? All of The X-Files stayed intact. Here in the office. Right?”

Taking a large breath, he answers, “Yes, Scully. Those X-Files stayed right here in the office. Those. Files.” He casts a mildly contrite glance at her for a beat before stressing,  “Those.”

She crosses her arms over her chest as her head tilts in admonishment. “Mulder, you didn’t.”

“Hey, I needed some light reading while we were off shoveling literal shit, Scully. What Diana and Spender don’t know won’t hurt them, and besides, we have The X-Files back. These are officially our files again.”

Keep reading

Heavens help the fool who crosses her,
My springtime hurricane,
She can woo men with her beauty
And tear them down in the same breath.

My celestial goddess,
Made of iron and roses,
Wrapped in the moonlight she dances in when the sun has grown tired of her basking.
She’s unstoppable and undeniable,
And in such a way fit to be the wife
Of a god with an unmovable heart
But she moves it everyday, anyway.
Just like her to be so stubborn.

Heavens help the fool who crosses her, not because I am her husband, but because she is my wife,
All beauty and terrifying justice
Far too fierce to ever be stopped.

—  A.E.C || Hades on Persephone
All (We) Want

So, in the Writers’ Hub we have quite the selection of opinions on when, where and if Captain Swan have ever done the deed. I took it upon myself to um… bring some of those scenarios to life.

4.4k of pure smutiness in various forms. Rated M. On ao3 HERE

Credit to @winterbythesea @ofshipsandswans @hencethebravery @dassala and @businesscasualprincess for the situations and @captainwiley and @irishswanff for the sprinting help. Did I say credit? I meant blame.

Also @killiancygnus. Because ily.


1. Neverland

He can feel the weight of her stare on the back of his neck as he turns from the helm, her regard following him as his invisible companion as he moves to go below.

She’s been sitting at the bow since sunset, the sky spreading before her like a sea of stars, but her face has never turned towards them, nor has she looked down at the glittering carpet of the ocean below. Her attention has been fixed, wholly and completely, on him.

It makes him nervous in a way he hasn’t felt in centuries - her silent perusal combined with the thrill of his newly discovered feelings leaving him quite lightheaded.

He wants her to watch him, but more than that he wants her to want.

He slips a hand into his jacket pocket in search of his flask - anything to soothe his frayed nerves - but he comes up empty.

“Lost something?” she calls, holding his flask between finger and thumb, her lip curled sardonically. “You’re not the only pirate around here.”

“You need only have asked, Swan,” he says, shuffling over with hand outstretched. To his surprise she pulls the flask back, holding it close to her chest and watching him with hooded eyes.

“Is that true?” she asks, her voice low.

“Is what true, love?” he asks, snatching for the flask and scowling slightly as she refuses to hand it over.

“That I only have to ask.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i really love your writing and i was wondering if you have any malec/jimon fic recommendations?

Awwwww, thanks anon. You’re so sweet! Well, I’ll always recommend anything written by @abloodneed cuz Izsak’s writing is A++++++. Plus, he also writes the occasional Jimon which is just as brilliant!

Then there’s Anger Management  by @latinalightwood which I started beta’ing like three chapters ago, and which I love! Ana loves her angst and I love screaming, I love you and I hate you all at once. Trust me. She’ll have you doing both.

I won’t Let You Fall by @jezthemadficster is this dancing fic that god, every time a new chapter is out, has me grinning like a loon as I go, “gimme gimme gimme goddamit!” and trust me, she never disappoints. And the way she describes the dance, it’s vivid poetry that just takes my breath away. Honestly, great stuff if I must say so myself.

I love Knights and tales that reimagine fairytales so Destiny Calls by @clockworkswans also ranks pretty high on my list. It’s brilliant writing really, and has me hopelessly hooked.

Then there’s Under New Management by @highwarlockkareena which woah, got me hooked even before I knew that it was Kareena that was writing it. The plot, the pacing, the writing, all amazing, and Kareena’s take on the Downworlder council has me in awe. I’m not going to spoil it for you but it’s really good.

Cradle Songs of Comfort by @theonetruenorth because frankly the story’s slept on. Like woah! The plot is based off a game. The characterization is excellent. The pacing has me biting my nails like crazy, waiting to see what will happen next, and the writing is excellent. 

Under the Bleachers by @bi-magnus which to me is A+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Think it’s a lot of pluses? Hehehehe. Well, it’s because the story’s damn good! That’s so damn good Jimon right there.It’s cute and fluffy and hot and will leave you smiling till the very end. You know what, just look through the rest of her fics on her AO3 because they’re all so good, and Alice’s Jimon Week fics are classic!

Never say Never by @mel-iorn because it combines Mel’s brilliant, beautiful writing (really, if you’ve never read anything by Mel, you don’t know what you’re missing) and glorious beautiful Jimon. Honestly, the story’s brilliant. 

Only Fools by @aleclwb which was is funny and cute and hot and has Simon dating Jace in order to teach Jace how to date Clary. Yeah trust me, it’s as good as it sounds. So damn goooooood. 

And finally, I would of course recommend the first fic I ever wrote in the SH fandom: It’s Time To Lose Your Virginity Brother Dearest. You can also find my Tumblr drabbles on here

Some thoughts on Shou

-Shou has many many scars on him all from his father. he sometimes just sits shirtless in front of a mirror and traces over them remembering what happened. Reminding himself that this is not normal. That this is not okay.


-Shou once saw Ritsu’s father pat his head and Shou almost blasted him across the room before he realizes that it was actually an affectionate gesture.


-Shou has a very nervous habit of biting on his sleeves. The ends of his jacket are frayed and wet and disgusting and he doesn’t remember the last time he washed it but he doesn’t want to lose it. So he never does.

-Shou has received affection once, just once, from his father after his mother left. He was eight and he was in horrible burning pain and his father picked him up and carried him to the med room and wrapped up his injuries. It never happened again and Shou is almost sure that he dreamed it…but it’s also a massive reason he sometimes doubts the abuse.

-Ritsu cries very easily. Shou laughs instead of crying. Ritsu wants to punch Shou in the face for making fun of his crying but then gets a massive pit of dread in his stomach when he sees Shou laughing off a stab wound or a broken bone.

-One time Shou did cry in front of Ritsu though…it started off as laughter that then turned hysterical and caused him to collapse on the ground shaking as he started sobbing between laughs and he couldn’t breathe and he wanted to die because he broke down and…He kept saying that he was sorry for crying….Ritsu held him tight and tried to be comforting but all he could really do in his state of shock was to rock him and try his best to soothe him

-One time Reign tried to pat Shou on the Shoulder and Shou nearly threw him into a wall. Mob stopped him but Shou was so embarrassed he didn’t come back for a month

-Shou uses memes as a way to cover for his emotional shortcomings and trauma

- Shou…knows how to dance…he learned…as part of his training???

-Shou is simultaneously afraid of touch and completely touch deprived so it ends up in this odd situation of “i can touch you but for the love of god please don’t touch me.”

-Shou batterdick cucumber memes his father’s name. He has over one hundred and twenty seven ways of saying ‘touch your toes sucky key.’

-Shou attempted to live with his mother….but….she kept trying to do things he wasn’t okay with…but by that i mean…giving him rules and curfews and things Shou has never done in his life and he gets angry and he calls bullshit and he runs away from home to hide for a few days and she panics because she lost her baby again but Shou….is not okay…with being controlled…

-Shows mom still doesn’t like seeing his power and everytime he uses it she makes a small uncomfortable expression and Shou begins to dislike them a little bit more…

-Shous hamsters are very well treated but at the same time…Shou is terrified to interact with them because he might hurt them

-Shou has a fully documented file on every injury, every scar, and every trauma his father has given him…he doesn’t really know what to do with it…

-Shou just wants to hug somebody for hours on end. To feel another person’s warmth encompassing him and keeping him safe…but he feels childish whenever he does because….who would even want to hug him??? he Should just get over it??? grow up???

-One time his mother dropped a pan and Shou nearly started crying….he hates…loud noises….he doesn’t mind if they are natural like thunder…but…the sound of a pan banging against a floor…a door slamming…hands slamming on the table….it terrifies him.

-Shou hugs his pillow when he sleeps.

-Shou used to have a stuffed animal collection but his father destroyed them..calling them childish.

-Shou has a shit ton of money coming his way because of his father but….he doesn’t really want it….it feels dirty and he doesn’t want any help…from anyone

-Shou has exactly 0 social skills. He never learned how tf to deal with people. He just tried to make himself seem as big as possible and hopes things will go his way.


-Shou uses comics, manga, books and tv shows as a way of escapism. He surrounds himself in the stories so much that he used to call his father DR. Robotnick. (Sonic sat am ref lol.)

-Shou hates taking showers or baths. He feels entirely too vulnerable and sometimes he’ll push it off for a solid month before taking one.

-Shou has never had a good night’s sleep. Ever.

-Shou has freckles. hundreds of freckles. they’re all from his mom

-Shou wants to go to school with Ritsu but at the same time he’s terrified to try.

-He’s not good with people. his schooling did not keep up 100% with academics, he hates being told what to do ect ect…

-One time he hung around reigen and did a dumb doodle on a sticky note and reigen praised it and said it looked really good and Shou started crying….he doesn’t know why. maybe it’s because he’s never been praised on his art before..

-Shou sometimes breaks into Reigen’s office to sleep on his couch. Reigen is mildly concerned but lets him do it anyway

-Shou is that person who always, c o n s t a n t l y, has to show somebody up. You ran a mile?? I ran two!! You’re feeling depressed?? well my father ran a cult and tried to take over the world and constantly abused me!! He does not mean to be mean by it…but he’s so used to his thoughts and feelings being completely invalidated that…he h a s to…you know???

-Shous relationship with his mother….hmm….It’s kinda rocky. Like they love each other but they don’t really know much about each other anymore and she doesn’t really like his powers but they still do try and they really do care for each other but there will always be this……unspoken…gap….between them.

Why he never talks about his father…why she never wants to hear.

they hug and kiss and would do anything for each other…but at the same time…something unspeakable happened here and neither of them are willing to acknowledge it

[i say kiss because familiar kisses are a thing but i’m not 100% sure they happen out of the south so like;;]

-anyway if Teru and Shou ever start talking about their feelings they would get…so frustrated with each other. constantly trying to say who had the shittier experience because i feel like this shouuppance [pardon the pun] is a core part of their characters and honestly it would reach a point where they would fucking f i g h t.

But in the end it turns out being good for them because they had the chance to let off some of the steam that they’ve been building up and lets them relax a bit and they eventually realize they won’t win against each other. They’re both too stubborn. and instead they start comparing stories and laughing their ass off about how fucked up they are.

ex:

Shou: And then he left me locked in that room for three days without any food lol!!!

Teru: Oh god, do i feel that!! I don’t have anybody to take care of me so It’s just constant isolation and if I get sick, well then! I’m not eating till I recover!

-

[Anyway this post is 1000ish words long so i’ll cut it here lol, I have more Shou hcs that I’ll probably upload later~~ Thanks for reading!]

Baby I’m Helpless (Daveed x Reader)

Request: can i get a daveed one where the reader plays one of the leading ladies in hamilton and it shows how daveed and her start dating then finally get married. when the reader gets pregnant she finds a cool way to reveal it to daveed and the cast but it’s while they are performing. thank ya!! :)

TW: Swearing, Pregnancy?

Tags: @cinnalin-roll @elisethepensivewriter

Masterlist

You nervously twist your wedding band, while you sit in the bathroom, waiting for this little stick to determine your future. “Oh God,” you gasp and cover your mouth. The two little white lines staring back at you tell you everything you need to know. You’re pregnant. You are going to be a mom. And Daveed. Oh God, Daveed. What was he going think? The two of you had always talked about kids, but what if he didn’t actually want kids.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Renee knocks on the door. “(Y/N), you’ve been in there for thirty minutes. Are you okay?” You quickly wash your hands and walk out of the bathroom, test in hand. “Help.” You show her the stick, causing her to squeal. “When did you find out?”

“Thirty minutes ago?”

She smiles and hugs you. “Did you tell him?”

“No. I literally just found out.”

“I have an idea!” She exclaims, leading you into the Schuyler Sisters’ dressing room. “Put on Pip’s dress. I’ll try to get Lin on board with this. We still have time to rehearse for this.” She doesn’t give you time to ask any questions before leaving the room to find Lin.

You sigh and change into the blue dress, rather than your yellow one. Not even ten minutes later, she comes back. “We’re switching roles for the show! I told Lin to have the guys trade roles. Daveed is going to be Hamilton.”

You give her a quizzical look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’ll be singing ‘That Would Be Enough’. For your husband,” she explains.

You smile and hug her. “You are a genius.”

~~~

You take a deep breath before ‘Helpless’ starts. Smiling, you twirl around remembering when you met Daveed.

You stare at your laptop, trying to finish your English essay. You look up and take a sip of your coffee.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice starts, “can I sit here?”

You move some of your papers out of the way. “Yeah. I should probably get going anyway.” You close your laptop and grab your binder.

“Do you need some help?” the man asks.

You smile. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let me help.”

You take a seat next to him and pull up your essay. “Thank you.”

“Really, it’s no problem. Let me see what you have.”

You watch him read over your work. You watch as his eyes scan over the words, gently biting his lip.

“I’m helpless.”

You smile as Pippa starts singing “Satisfied”, leaning into Daveed’s chest, you’re suddenly flooded with memories of your wedding.

Daveed leads you into the middle of the floor for your first dance. You rest your head on his chest while he guides you. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Not nearly as much as I love you.”

He shakes his head slightly. “Whatever you say, Mrs. Diggs.”

You chuckle. “God, I love that.”

Once the song ends, you make your way back into the crowd and talk to his family. His mom immediately engulfs you in a hug. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. And thank you so much for coming.”

She sighs. “He is incredibly lucky.”

You stand next to her and watch Daveed talk to your parents. “If anything, I’m the lucky one.”

She rubs your back. “You two really seem to love each other.”

“We do. We really do.”

You leave the stage as the opening notes of the next song start playing, giving Renee a hug as soon as you see her. “Thank you!”

She grins. “I’m really enjoying this.”

~~~

You slowly walk over to Daveed.

“How long have you known?”

“Not long ago.” You place his hands on your stomach.

He continues singing, not processing that you changed the lyric.

“But you deserve the chance to meet your son.” Your eyes meet his, and he suddenly seems to understand what you mean, pulling you closer to him.

As soon the song stops, he turns to you. “You’re pregnant?”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah.”

His smile widens, and he kisses your forehead.

~~~

The two of you are inseparable during intermission. After the show, the cast congratulates the two of you. Almost everyone knew what was going on because Lin can’t keep a secret.

Once you get back to your apartment, Daveed kisses you. “We’re going to be parents.”

You smile. “Yeah, yeah we are.”

“You’re going to be the best mom.”

“Only because you’re going to be the best dad.”

lovely; part ii

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

PROMPT; in which archie andrews finds himself smitten with a dear friend, and after a not-so-fun encounter during lunch, it dawns on him that its about time he comes clean.

PARING/CHARACTERS; archie andrews x reader, jughead jones, betty cooper, and veronica lodge.

WARNINGS; god you’re gonna hate me but angst, feels and possibly fluff at the end.

AUTHOR’S NOTE; aaaaaaaand its back from high demand! i usually don’t do part twos to a lot of my imagines (i’ve had previous blogs) so this is a bit odd for me. either way, i hope you all enjoy!

PART ONE


It had been weeks since the dance, and for Archie, nothing had really been the same.

The world was duller and sadder. The bright red neon lights outside of Pop’s never seemed welcoming anymore. The playground behind one of the elementary schools always seemed depressing when the swing would move with the wind.

His music and grades fell slowly, chipping away like his heart did. Everyone noticed the ginger’s change in heart, the change in his personality.

You noticed it, and it made your heart shatter.

You had tried talking to him, but he would just look at you and walk away. Hell, you cornered him in the locker room once when all the boys had left.

You had never seen him so mad or upset when you did that. He looked ready to hit you, but, of course, he didn’t. He had just gripped your hand tightly and basically told you to never talk to him again.

So you didn’t.

And you had lost one of your closest friends.

Keep reading

Charles Xavier Drabble

Prompt: Charles ust being all googoo eyed over Y/n and all that cute shit.

Warnings: Might possibly be swearing. 

Originally posted by marvel-is-ruining-my-life

Requested by Anon

*******

 “God how did I get so lucky as to have this wonderful being in my life.” Charles thought to himself as he watched Y/n dance around in front room of the mansion.

 “She’s perfect.” He sighed aloud. “What was that love?” Y/n asked as she continued dancing about. “Oh n-nothing.” He stuttered hoping she wasn’t paying attention. She was. 

 “Oh really cause it sounded kinda like you said ‘She’s perfect’.” Y/n stated as she twirled her way to Charles. “And what if I did?” Charles raised an eyebrow wrapping his arms around her waist. “Well I’d wonder who the bloody hell you’re talking about.” She giggled. Charles gasped and held his hand over his heart. 

 “Why none other you my darling.” He smiled. A small giggle and an almost inaudible mmhmm escaped Y/n’s lips. 

*********

Gif isn’t mine
Sorry it’s late
Don’t be shy, Ask me anything
Thank you for reading

anonymous asked:

Hi there! I was wondering if you could do a prompt of Betty showing up to school dressed in those 50s style polka dot dresses, red lips with 50s curled hair and Juggie just completely lost of words/smitten with the her. I've been having this idea ever since his retro dream sequence.

This was a cute request! I made it a short one, but I hope you still like it! 

A/N: I’m pretty sure that homecoming/spirit week is primarily an American tradition so in case you’re not sure what it is, I left a description under the cut.

Jughead crumpled up the Spirit Week poster, tossing it into the trashcan across the hallway before turning back to Archie to roll his eyes at the dozens of classmates strutting past them in their poodle skirts and rolled up jeans and leather jackets.

“I loathe this week,” Jughead muttered, leaning against Archie’s locker as he grabbed his books from the bottom shelf and shut the door. “Why does the Homecoming committee think that dressing up in outfits from decades of which we weren’t even a speck on our parents’ radar, shows any shred of school spirit whatsoever?”

“It’s called fun Jughead,” Veronica pointed out, coming up from behind Archie and making room for herself in the circle that was forming around them. “A word that remains to go unused in your ever-growing list of extensively useless vocabulary terms.”

“Excuse me for not jumping onto the bandwagon of senseless high school traditions,” Jughead spat, gesturing to his normal uniform of a plaid shirt and dark jeans. “But just because I chose to come to school today without my saddle shoes and denim on denim ensemble like Archibald over here doesn’t mean I have any less school spirit than I did yesterday.”

“You don’t have any school spirit,” Kevin reminded him. “Ever.”

“My point exactly,” Jughead told him, turning away from the group and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Well I think the fact that the sophomore class got the 50′s as their decade is a fabulous excuse to test out my vintage cat eye sunglasses,” Veronica pulled them from her purse, slipping the black-rimmed frames onto her head and striking a pose. “What do you think?”

“Holy Audrey Hepburn reincarnated,” Kevin gasped, a hand moving up to rest dramatically over his heart. “I’m dying.”

“Come on, Jug, it’s all in good fun,” Archie reminded him. “We could use it after everything we’ve gone through lately. Plus we get out of sixth period for the assembly so it can’t be all bad.”

“Now that’s something I can get spirited about,” Jughead admitted, smirking at Archie as Veronica and Kevin fawned over her outfit with ear-piercing oohs and awes.

“Where is Betty by the way?” Archie wondered, glancing around the hallway for any sign of his long-time best friend.

“She said something about helping her mom with some project at the house,” Jughead explained. “Cryptic and terrifying as that sounds, I’m glad they’re spending so much time together lately.”

“So am I,” Veronica agreed, her lips twitching up into a smirk as she turned to raise a mischievous eyebrow at Jughead. “Plus, I know all about that little project and trust me, you’re going to die when you see it.”

“Why do I find it increasingly difficult to trust your judgment on these sorts of things,” Jughead muttered, his brows furrowing together as he met her smile with a skeptical frown.

“No really, you’re going to thank me,” Veronica assured him, turning her gaze away from her friends to scroll through her phone as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  

“Oh so now you’re the one solely responsible for this secret project that no one else has heard of until now,” Jughead teased, picking at a chipping fleck of paint on Archie’s locker as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Obviously,” Veronica scoffed, rolling her eyes before opening a text message on her phone and throwing her arms out to the side dramatically. “Shhh! Everyone, I just got a text from Betty. She just got here.”

“Great, she can help me at the Blue and Gold before homeroom and-” Jughead started to say, but was immediately cut off by Veronica turning his body to face the double doors that led into the school from the parking lot.

His mouth dropped open, and the world went dead silent around him as he focused on the golden-haired beauty standing in the doorway. It was as if she had been plucked straight from a 1950′s sitcom, her black and white polka dot dress swishing around her legs as she turned to greet a few of her friends at the door.

“Whoa,” Jughead breathed, his heart beating wildly in his chest as the sun shone in from the window, reflecting beautifully on her curled hair and creating a glow around her head that he had never quite seen before.

“Oh my god, she’s like a blonde Natalie Wood,” Kevin muttered from behind him, watching in awe as Betty made her way over to the group. “I love it so much.”

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?” Betty asked, her smile lighting up her entire face as she turned to face Jughead.

“Jughead was just telling us how much he hated Homecoming week,” Veronica filled her in, her eyes dancing amusedly as she observed Jughead’s bewildered expression at the sight of his girlfriend looking so made-up. “Do you still feel that way, Jug?”

“I think it’s starting to grow on me,” Jughead mumbled, his breath catching in his throat as he took in her entire look from head to toe.

“That’s what I thought,” Veronica smirked, linking her arm through Betty’s and quickly pulling her closer to Jughead. “No man can resist Betty Cooper in a vintage, one of a kind, straight out of her grandmother’s wardrobe, polka dot dress.”

Veronica pushed Kevin and Archie away from the couple to give them some privacy, leaving them to stand alone by the lockers, gaping at the other with goofy grins and fast-paced heartbeats.

“That dress,” Jughead breathed, his gaze dropping down to the silky fabric that was pulled in slightly at the waist, accentuating her curves in the best ways possible. “It really suits you.”

“Oh this old thing,” Betty brushed off the compliment, smoothing down the front of the dress with her hands and smiling up at him. “It was just sitting at the front of my closet, practically begging me to wear it today. No big deal.”

“Well you look beautiful,” Jughead told her, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and glancing down to meet her smile with one of his own.

“I think Jughead finally found his school spirit,” Archie pointed out from across the hallway, watching as Betty took Jughead’s hand in hers, leaning into one another as they laughed flirtatiously against the lockers.

“And he only had to travel back to 1956 to find it,” Veronica smirked, twirling her sunglasses around with her fingers and shrugging. “Who knew.”

Keep reading

14| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 4390

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You asked a group of second year girls where Madame Choi’s office was. After a few comments about your dining hall arguments, they directed you down towards a small corridor where most of the teachers had their offices. You went past the doors until you found the one with the plaque:

Madam Choi Soomin, Senior Ballet Mistress

Scholarship Coordinator

Biting back your excited nerves, you knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Came her voice.

You turned the handle and went in. Madam Choi’s office was not as nice as Mistress Hyejin’s. It was smaller, and windowless. But the walls were painted cream, and framed posters of various ballet productions hung from them, all signed by the casts. There were also photos of Madam Choi with a few other dancers all posing in their costumes. The lady herself sat at her desk, a big pile of papers in front of her. She looked studious with her black rimmed glasses and turtleneck jersey, but you could see the darkening circles under her eyes.

“Miss (Surname).” She regarded you wearily. “What can I do for you?”

“Ma'am I have something to show you.”

She raised her eyebrow, her fingers still intertwined in front of her. “And what would that be?” She asked.

You refrained from biting your lip and brought out your pointe shoes from behind your back. “I kind of have to show you in one of the studios.”

She pursed her lips, looking distastefully at the shoes. “Don’t you have a concussion and an order not to dance? Or have I changed my entire choreography on a lie?”

“Ma'am, the symptoms of my concussion have all gone.” You told her earnestly. “I can dance.”

She didn’t look convinced. “What is it you want to show me?”

“I changed the dance.” You said quietly. Judging by what she’d just said about changing the choreography, you doubted she’d give you a chance.

“By which you mean?”

You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like you were coming in here to confess a crime. “I changed my solo dance last night.”

“And yet you injured yourself the day before, during Miss Yang’s accident?”

“I thought maybe Doctor Hill would forget to tell the teachers.”

She smiled at that. “My dear, Doctor Hill wouldn’t let you off for an injury even if it were a broken nail.”

“Exactly!” You cried out frustratedly, then snapped your mouth shut. Teacher, right. “I mean. Ma'am Doctor Hill is keeping me off much longer than necessary – it’s ridiculous, and I really want this solo.”

“The number of students I’ve lost because of him.” Madame Choi sighed and stood up. “Lead the way, Miss (Surname).” She said tiredly.

You nervously walked up to the second floor with her. Students were already coming down the stairs for dinner. Some of them gave you stares, remembering your little display at lunch. “What the hell is the bitch doing?” You heard Minjee’s voice. She was descending the stairs with Hyeun, Yuna and Seohyun. They all looked suspiciously at your leotard and dance bag with contempt.

“Miss Gwan, you will report to my office tomorrow morning.” Madam Choi said sharply, loud enough for the whole parade of people to hear. Minjee’s face turned pale. “This school is no place for your foul language.”

“Yes Ma'am.” She said quietly, swallowing. You tried to keep a satisfied smirk off you face.

Reaching the same studio as you’d used last time, you swiftly switched the bright strip lights on and quickly hooked your iPod up. Then you sat down and tied up your pointe shoes, feeling rushed because Madame Choi was standing at the door. At least she wasn’t tapping her foot. You did a few quick stretches – You did not need another injury, then you stood up, a bolt of nerves shooting up you body. You looked at Madame Choi. She gave a curt smile, telling you to begin.

You pressed play and then stepped back and rose onto pointe, lifting your leg up behind you. The music began. You felt the stirring in your belly as the familiar notes reached out for you and pulled you into a world that you had defined together.

As the notes went down, so did you, reaching forwards and raising your leg so that it made a straight line. You could still do it! You tried not to look for a reaction from Madame Choi as you rose back up and instead step turned downstage, and then spun in a slow pirouette.

You stepped a foot back, feeling as though you’d only just discovered you could do it and you stepped forward, as if a whole world – the world of ballet – was blossoming before you. You would join that world, you knew, and you curtsied, marking your entrance. And then the fast notes came, and the entrance was almost over. More notes joined the first until everything came together and then all tentativeness left, and you flew.

You remembered the whole dance easily – the music told you what you needed to do. Madam Choi became less of an individual and more of an anonymous observer as you leapt and spun. You were showing whoever was watching what you could do.

And as the final chorus lead you on once more, you delved into the music and brought it out with you, in the way that only dance could, and truly showed it to the world. You finished in arabesque. But once the last note had been played, you were cut loose, and Madam Choi’s presence was certainly there. You lowered your leg and turned to face her. Your breathing was heavier than usual, and sweat beaded on your back.

Madame Choi was looking at you with her chin raised high, making her even taller than usual. You couldn’t glean anything off her expression. She was simply studying you.

You felt the need to say something and break the horrible silence that she didn’t seem to notice. “It –” Your breathing was very heavy. “It’s not exactly polished.”

She nodded her head down slowly, then took a step towards you, looking you up and down. “Why did you dance like that?” She asked you. Her voice was the same blank calm as usual.

You frowned. You could hardly tell her it had something to do with Park Jimin. Wait, that wasn’t what she’d asked. “I don’t know.” You said. “I was thinking about why I started ballet. It was just, the music fit perfectly to describe it.”

She nodded. “Yes, you had that air of innocence about you.”

You stood there awkwardly. What was she saying? Were your moves too basic?

“I assume you would like me to put your choreography back into the piece?”

“Well I -Yes, Ma'am.”

Her eyes seemed to get sharper every second. “And I assume you would like to be the one to dance it.”

What? Suddenly, your protectiveness kicked in. No one else could dance this! The steps. They were all linked to you, even though you didn’t have the best technique, it was like giving away your favourite childhood toy. Yes, someone might actually use it or dance it better, but it was still your toy! What about all the memories? What about the connections the dance had to you?

Madame Choi was watching you closely. Your badly concealed disappointment answered her question. She sighed and took off her glasses. “When can you dance again?” She asked.

“Saturday, Ma'am.”

“You are one hundred percent healthy?”

“Yes, Ma'am.” You said, a little hope coming up inside.

“And if your symptoms were to return you will be responsible enough to stop?”

You hadn’t been before, but you didn’t think you ought to tell her that. They wouldn’t come back. “Yes Ma'am.”

“There is a lot of work to be done on it.” She said abruptly. “Your extensions ought to be better. An allegro is no reason to be sloppy, and your penche needs to face sideways to the audience, or no one will see the lines.” She put her hands behind her back, and looked at you with those powerful brown eyes. “This is a big risk you ask me and your class to take. If I change the choreography again then we lose another day of rehearsal. We have two rehearsals to go, Miss (Surname) one of which you can’t even attend.”

You held your breath. Oh God no. It was more than just Park Jimin – the reason why you wanted to dance this solo, it was because you really did love ballet, and the elation of dancing this particular piece.

“However.” Madam Choi continued. “I don’t believe either of the routines we have been rehearsing, nor the rest of your classmates can quite grasp the same, understanding you have just displayed.” You could hardly stop from smiling. She liked it! Did that mean you could perform?

“Thank you, Ma'am.” You said, trying not to sound as overjoyed as you were.

She pursed her lips. “You have a long way to go before performance standard, Miss (Surname). I would not tend to presume until you are standing behind that curtain with my absolute approval.”

You nodded quickly, feeling like a small, overexcited child who needed to calm down. She was letting you do it! You could do it, but she was right. There was still time for her to say no. Now you had to focus.

“Go over the first section.” She suddenly ordered. “I’d like to see that penche again. No music.”

You performed the introduction. The emotion was lost without the music, but you knew that you couldn’t let yourself get surrounded by the music until your technique was so habitual that you could trust yourself to perform with quality. Only then could you allow yourself to fully develop into the music. Apparently your penche was acceptable, considering your lack of experience, but it was badly postured. Madame Choi pressed down your back to it arched and pushed your leg even higher, saying it wasn’t quite one-eighty yet.

You went through the whole routine in painstaking detail. Without the support of the music, you sometimes forgot moves, but Madame Choi had the endless patience that all dancers needed to develop – three hours of plies and failed pirouettes weren’t meant to be exciting, and yet that’s how learning ballet is.

“I want you take your movements and make them larger.” She said as you rehearsed once again the middle chorus. “The introduction needs more as well. It all must be bigger on stage, Miss (Surname), or this story you have managed to create will be nonexistent for the audience. You do very nice subtle things – when you open your hand during the first bar after the gentlemen’s piece, it is ought to be a full opening of your entire arm. Subtle doesn’t work.”

You tried opening out, unbending your arm as your fingers spread. “Yes, better, and as you watch your arm or hand, particularly in the introduction, you want to make them head movements rather than just eyes, understand?”

The rain continued to beat against the windows as the sky slowly darkened. It was warm in the studio, though, and you hardly noticed as the minutes and hours passed, and the shrouded sun went down behind the hills. Having never properly watched yourself dance the piece in the mirrors, there was a lot to fix – and Madame Choi was a technique teacher, after all.

“I worked it out so that it wouldn’t affect the original choreography.” You told her at one point.

She shook her head, surveying the empty studio. “No, the class choreography will be changed. They will fit exactly to your solo. Go stage right at the end of that bar…you will lead them into a spiral shape for the climax, and then they’ll circle you. Break out for the final chorus. They will be in the background. Go to the front of the stage.”

You did so. If there was one thing you could let yourself predict about the coming days, it was that your class was not going to be happy, particularly about being in the background at the end. If they wanted credit just for ‘making you look pretty’ then it was at the end – one of the most memorable parts of the performance. However you couldn’t be bothered feeling any sympathy.

“What were you originally finishing in?” Madame Choi asked.

“An arabesque.” You told her.

She nodded. “Let me see your opening arabesque.”

You turned to the side and lifted your leg, your arms reaching out in front.

“And the one at the end?”

“It’s the same.” You replied.

“It shouldn’t be.” She said. “One would hope that you have changed from your childlike state at the beginning of the piece. You have now experienced ballet, but something must be different.”  She regarded your position. “Lift your leg above the ninety, arch your back up. Look proud, knowledgeable…yes, that’s it.”

You didn’t feel proud or knowledgeable, but you knew what she was getting at. You had to change from your discovery of ballet, to your joy at becoming a ballerina.

“Eight forty-eight.” Murmured Madame Choi, looking at her watch. “Once more time, Miss (Surname). And you will rehearse here tomorrow?”

“Yes Ma'am.” You nodded.

She sighed. “I don’t particularly like encouraging rule breaking, but Doctor Hill.” She trailed off, pursing her lips distastefully at the floor. Eventually she snapped out of it and looked at you. “Just try not to bring any attention to your rule breaking.”

You nodded, feeling kind of like you were co-conspirators, except she was your teacher.

“Alright, from the beginning, if you please.”

You flicked your iPod back to the start and began dancing once again. It was difficult remembering both the changes to the choreography and your general technique. Madam Choi, however, had managed to memorize your entire choreography, as well as the class’s in just two hours, and she called out when you got lost. With your concentration on technique and timing, there was little of the connection you’d felt when you’d first performed it tonight, but you didn’t mind.

There were only a few bars left, and you sautéed, jumping high, feeling the satisfying spring in your legs. You spun in your last pirouette, turning away from the windows.

Shinn Taeyeon was looking through the door window.

Shit! You stumbled in your landing.

“Control!” Madame Choi demanded. You frustratedly lifted your leg up in the final arabesque. Taeyeon was staring at your position contemptuously, her nostrils flared. The final note played, and you hurriedly went down. What the hell was she doing here? What if she told Jimin?

“That was good.” Madame Choi was saying. “Aside from the ending.”

“Yes Ma'am.” You murmured. Taeyeon finally made eye contact with you and smirked. Then she pushed the door open and walked in.

“Hey Ma'am!” She said, putting on a Barbie-fake smile.

Madame Choi’s usually scowling face brightened considerably. “Taeyeon! How are your classes going?” She asked, walking over to her.

“Good, thanks ma'am. I just saw you in here and thought I’d say hi.”

“Ah, yes, we were just rehearsing Miss (Surnames)’s solo for the review.” She gestured to you. “Have you met?”

Taeyeon gave you a horribly sweet smile. “Yeah, we’ve met. Hey, I thought you were sick or something?”

Yeah, coming to think of it, you did feel like vomiting. She was sickening.

Madame Choi leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, Doctor Hill’s given her one of those silly rest periods like he used to give Jimin. But Miss (Surname) really does have something to show everyone. You’ll be watching?” She inquired.

“Oh yes.” Taeyeon nodded. “Jimin and I are up against Master Jinho and Mistress Hyejin.”

Madam Choi laughed. “Evenly matched, I think. What are you dancing to?”

“Moonlight Sonata.” Taeyeon replied.

She nodded approvingly. “A good choice.”

“Yeah, we were going to go with Clair de Lune at first, but Jimin and I decided we’d have more chances to show our skill with Beethoven.” Thank God they weren’t doing Clair de Lune. Any remaining connection you had with that piece would have been crushed if you’d watch Jimin and Taeyeon dancing to it – no doubt, beautifully.

You knelt down and untied your pointe shoes. Madam Choi went on. “And how are your sisters? I heard Taeil’s got the solo for the Chinese Variation of the Nutcracker.”

“Yeah.” Said Taeyeon flatly. “It’s not very big, though. My Mom thought she could’ve aimed for better.”

“Ah, not everyone can be the Sugar Plum Fairy, though. I believe she’s just the right technique for the choreography.”

You quickly unplugged your iPod from the stereo. “Ma'am.” You said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I better go before its lights out.”

She turned round and gave you a pleasant smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. You might care to take some time to write down the notes I gave you.”

“I will, Ma'am.” You quickly curtsied a thank you and left, brushing past Taeyeon, who gave you a quick sneer before turning back to being a sickly sweet student.

You huffed as the door shut behind you. You liked Madame Choi – she was a great teacher – however you childishly thought that Taeyeon had brainwashed her.

Before you got to your dorm, you stopped into one of the alcoves and slipped your hoodie and trackpants back on.

The others were still lounging around in their PJs, chatting and reading magazines on the couches. You tried to be inconspicuous as you put your pointe shoes away and got out of your leotard and tights. Minjee, who hadn’t noticed you yet, was sitting with Seohyun, Hyeun and a few other girls from your class, complaining loudly. “Seriously, she was only like, a Coryphée, and yet she walks around like she’s the best teacher in the school.”

“Madame Choi is better than Madame Zhang, Minjee.” Yuna said, who’d been lying on another couch reading a Ballet Magazine. You thought back to lunchtime. Yuna had been there, but at least she’d said things a little more graciously than the others.

“Whatever.” Snorted Minjee, not bothering to look at Yuna. “At least Zhang let me fool around with Jongsoo between combinations.” Yeah, you thought to yourself, thank God for that. “Besides, it’s not like she wasn’t royally pissed off with little drama queen as well.”

“She was so stuck-up on the stairs.” Said Hyeun. “What a teacher’s pet.” You remembered how Minjee had insulted you the other day, and how Hyeun had snapped at her to shut up. It was ridiculous the way she and some of the others had changed sides so quickly. What a bunch of fake bitches. However maybe you would have been one of them when you were fifteen, but even then, you’d been smart enough not to be on anyone’s side other than you own.

One of the other gossiping girls leaned in excitedly. “I know, right? When I offered to help her with her solo, she went all snobby and told me to piss off. I mean, I was just offering to help her.”

“I guess it goes against her code of conduct to actually accept help from a first year.” Minjee said. “That’s why she thinks she’s so great – getting in with Park Jimin, Shinn Taeyeon and that Dawon girl.”

“They didn’t even want to talk to her.” Seohyun said with a giggle. “I mean, did you see the way Jimin walked out? Even people her own age can’t stand her massive ego.”

“Bighead (Name).” Minjee said with a smug smile.

You rolled your eyes, deciding you’d really rather not remain inconspicuous. “Wow Minjee.” You said, walking down the aisle of beds to them. “You learnt how to alliterate. Well done!”

She looked at you and stood up, undeterred. “I don’t think we invited you into this conversation, (Name).” She said your name tauntingly.

“Why not?” You said, smiling. “It’s not like I don’t already know what you think of me.” You sat down on the edge of one of the couches. “Go, talk.” You looked at the other girls, who sat looking down uncomfortably. “Or is it not so much fun insulting someone when you’re scared they’ll hear you?”

“We’re just saying it like it is, (Name).” Hyeun mumbled.

You laughed. “Hyeun, you really know nothing about me. And until you do, please stop basing me on ridiculous clichés you got off the Disney Channel. You have no evidence.” You knew you were only making things worse for yourself, but you really couldn’t be bothered.

Hyeun leapt up from the floor. “You are such a bitch!”

“I think we’ve already established that.” You said drawlingly.

“Really funny, (Name).” Minjee rolled her eyes, folding her arms.

You raised your eyebrows. “How so?”

“Ugh.” She huffed. “You’re pathetic.”

“And you’ve just run out of comebacks.”

Minjee looked you up and down then took a step towards you. “You really think you’re something, don’t you?”

“Well you’re sure making a big deal out of me, Minjee.” You told her, standing up from the edge of the sofa. You were towering a great deal over her. She glared up at you, narrowing her mascara-laden eyes.

“You’re gonna pay for being such a bitch.” She said quietly.

You rolled your eyes. “Where’s that from? James Bond?”

“God you’re a bitch!” She took another step towards you. Suddenly you felt a sharp pain across your cheek.

“What the hell?” She’d just slapped you!

“You deserve it!” She yelled.

“Are you fucking crazy!” You roared, some of your control going up with the pain in your cheek.

“Maybe, but at least I aren’t so damn stuck-up!”

“Why! Because I work hard and get results?”

“You don’t work hard! You don’t even have any experience! You’re too old!”

“What the heck is – ”

“Excuse me!” Every head snapped to the doorway.

Madame Hyejin stood there, wearing a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. She looked frighteningly tall, and she began walking right towards you and Minjee. You’d both unconsciously stepped away from each other. “What on Earth is going on?” She demanded.

“We – ”

“I – ” Minjee and you began at the same time.

Madame Hyejin looked between the two of you, her hands on her hips. “How dare you both make such a racket! I should send you to Master Jinho right now! What happened?”

No one said anything.

Madame Hyejin looked at you and Minjee, studying you both closely. She looked carefully at your face. “She slapped you?”

You nodded tentatively. You hadn’t wanted to tell her. You didn’t need teachers to know about it – it was your fight.

“She led me on, Ma'am.” Minjee said hastily.

Madame Hyejin shook her head in disgust, her eyes on Minjee. “You know – I don’t care what you were arguing about! That behaviour is absolutely disgraceful!” She snapped back to you. “And for you to react by yelling! You could have walked away! This is absolutely appalling! Ballet Dancers pride themselves on having grace and manners no matter what the situation! By being at this school you adhere to those rules at all times!” She exclaimed, her hands flying up in the air. “I will think of a suitable punishment and you will both come to my office after classes tomorrow. Understand?”

You both nodded.

Madame Hyejin surveyed the rest of the dorm. “Everyone get to bed. And if anyone says a single word they will regret it. Miss (Surname), I would like to talk to you outside for a moment.” She spun on her heel and walked back out.

You followed her nervously.

Out in the cool corridor, Madame Hyejin sighed wearily. For the first time, you noticed the bags under her eyes.

“Miss (Surname) I understand how it must be hard for you to deal with little girls who are two years younger than you, however, you must have patience with them. God knows I do not need this after the past couple of days.” She said, putting two manicured fingers to her forehead.

You suddenly felt guilty, remembering where she must have been. “Ma'am. How is Jiwoo?” You asked.

She gave you a tired smile. “Miss Yang is recovering well. They expect only three more days in the hospital at most.”

“Will she be coming back?” You already knew the answer, but you had to get the confirmation.

Madame Hyejin was already shaking her head. “We don’t quite know how she well she will heal in the long-term, but certainly not this term.”

You nodded slowly. Your poor friend. You had been so consumed in your own drama for the past two days that you hadn’t though much about her.

“She is allowed to have visitors from Saturday on. She asked for you, would you like to go?”

“Of course.” You said nodding frantically.

“Good. Oh, and one last thing – Doctor Hill informed me of your concussion.”

You nodded, swallowing. You didn’t want to have to lie.

“I understand why you did not tell anyone sooner – Miss Yang’s injury was more severe, but I must stress the importance of reporting injuries. I certainly don’t want to have another student in hospital because she went to sleep and could not wake up again. Have you been taking your pills?”

“Yes Ma'am.” Well, you would take them in a minute…

“Good, now go and get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Ma'am.” You curtsied and went back inside. Everyone else was obediently 'asleep’ and you got into bed quietly.

Madame Hyejin was right – you did have to have patience with your classmates. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t prove your worth on Sunday. To your class, to Taeyeon and to Jimin?

Now you understood – it wasn’t to prove him wrong about you. If what you guessed from your talk with Dawon was correct, then you would not be proving anything to him. You would just be reminding him.

Slowly you drifted of to sleep. The memory of strong hands on your waist, a warm, tall body close to yours…and brown eyes…staring into yours as you stared into them with no pretence, no nervousness…just discovery.

ifyoudareto-believe  asked:

4 and 8 with Jinyoungie from Got7, please? Thank you 😄😄

Originally posted by the-princejinyoung

Propmt: 4 ~ “Hold on, you aren’t jealous, are you?” + “I swear to god you’re such a child sometimes”

Words: 757

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I actually really loved the way this turned out. Jinyoung is such a cutie and I really love writing about him.


Jinyoung’s jaw clenched tightly together as he held onto his drink tightly, watching as his girlfriend danced with one of this best friends, Jackson, on the dance floor of the club that they were at. One might ask why he didn’t go up there and pull her away like a normal boyfriend would have, but she was sober and he knew [y/n] wouldn’t try anything on Jackson, also, she looked so happy as she danced with him, the two of them having so much fun.


Jinyoung felt his chest tighten and his blood beginning to boil as he continued to watch the pair. He wished it was him out there on the floor with her instead of Jackson. Why wasn’t he out there with her? Only God knows why Jinyoung wasn’t there with her, even Jinyoung doesn’t know why he refused [y/n]’s offer to dance. She had tried to persuade him and he declined saying that he much rather just sit and have a drink. He didn’t really expect her to ask Jackson instead, but then again, it really is his own fault.


Jackson reached his arm out and wrapped it tightly around [y/n]’s middle, pulling her closer as they danced. [y/n] gave him a small smile as she unraveled herself from the tipsy man. Jinyoung let out the breath he was holding in relief that his girlfriend denied the skinship with the older hyung. Jinyoung was done sitting around and acting like a jealous boyfriend. He quickly stood up from his seat, gulping down the last of his drink and walked out to the dance floor to pick up his lady. Once he got there, [y/n] greeted him with a happy smile.


“Did you change your mind?” She asked as she looked up at him with happy eyes.


Jinyoung kept a straight face and looked at Jackson (more like glared) and then back to his girlfriend, shaking his head as he grabbed her arm. [y/n] looked at him confused and cocked her head to the side. She reached her free hand out to touch Jinyoung’s face. Jinyoung pushed her hand away and began to pull [y/n] out of the club, not a words spoken between the two of them. It wasn’t until they got outside the venue when [y/n] stopped walking and spoke up breaking the silence between the two of them.


“Jinyoung,” She said as she struggled to stand still as Jinyoung tried to pull her along with him, “Please stop, you’re hurting my arm.”


Jinyoung stopped trying to pull [y/n] and turned his head slightly to look back at her. The girl looked up at him with concern in her eyes. [y/n] took a step closer so she was now standing directly behind her boyfriend.


“What’s wrong?” She asked, “You’ve never acted like this.”


“I don’t want you dancing with anyone that’s not me,” He spoke as his body became tense, “I didn’t like seeing you dancing with him. I don’t want Jackson touching you like that ever again, you’re my girlfriend, no one else’s. I should be the only one touching you like that, it should have been me out there with you instead of Jackson. I’m such a dumbass for denying your reqest-”


[y/n] winced as Jinyoung continued to ramble on, his grip tightening around her wrist as he grew more and more angry with both Jackson and himself. Jinyoung heard her wince of pain and stopped talking to look at [y/n]. He muttered out a sorry and let go of her arm.


“Jinyoungie,” She spoke softly.


“I’m sorry [y/n], but I just don’t like it when guys who aren’t me are touching you like that. It’s so heartbreaking and it makes me-”


“Hold on,” [y/n] cut him off, “You aren’t jealous, are you?”


Jinyoung’s eyes widened in shock as he quickly shook his head, his face flushing a light pink color.


“I am not,” He scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.


[y/n] giggled and rolled her eyes.


“Sure you aren’t,” She spoke teasingly.


Jinyoung pouted and resembled a small toddler when they didn’t get the toy they wanted from the store. [y/n] laughed at the image and stood up on her tip toes to kiss her boyfriend’s cheek gently.


“I swear to god you’re such a child sometimes,” She said.


Jinyoung pulled [y/n] close to him by the waist and leaned his forehead against her own.


“Yeah, but I’m your child,” He said as he closed the gap between them, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

Thanks Angel 4x15 One shot

So both @cpdcfcmed7410 and I received requests to write a follow up scene for 4x15 and well, being besties, we decided to combine our writing styles and do a one shot together. Hope you enjoy it! You can also find it here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12381711/1/Thanks-Angel

And here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5104405/CPDCFCMED7410

/////

“You about ready to go?” Erin asked Jay, rubbing her hands together as she made her way back into the bullpen from outside. She still couldn’t believe the audacity of Scrap. She’d busted her ass to get his brother off and he acted like an ungrateful ass.

“Yeah, just give me five,” Jay replied, barely looking up from the paperwork he was hurriedly filling in. He was anxious to get out of here tonight, more so then usual. He had negotiations to get under way.

Erin went and sat in her chair, not bothering to take her coat off since they’d be leaving in a minute and she’d already finished up for the day before she sprung Scrap. Leaning back, she let her gaze fall across the isle and watched Jay work. The hunch of his shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt as he leaned forward over his desk. She knew exactly how warm and smooth the skin was there. She knew her lips fit perfectly in the curves between his muscles and shoulder blades. She knew she could draw a line of kisses eight freckles long from behind his ear to the curve of his arm. He absentmindedly bit at the corner of his lip as he concentrated and Erin licked her lips unconsciously as she imagined the feel of his teeth gently sinking into her lip instead. Her belly tightened as her eyes fell on his arms, knowing exactly where his veins bulged from exertion as he held his weight off her when he lay over her. Goosebumps rose on her skin imagining his strong hands playing over her body.

Her eyes continued to wander over his features, daydreaming. When she refocused on his head, she was no longer staring at the semi trained waves on top that she knew tightened into unruly curls when wet but into the blue of Jay’s eyes. They were dancing with amusement as a smirk spread across his face. She felt her cheeks redden, knowing full well the cocky bastard had caught her fantasizing about him.

“I’m ready when you are,” Jay chuckled, suggestively raising his eyebrows at her.

Erin rolled her eyes at him but she didn’t suppress her smile as she got to her feet. “Good because I’m starving!”

“Of course you are,” he laughed. “Where am I taking you for dinner?”

“Wait, you’re buying?” She teased in mock surprise.

“Yup, whatever you want.” He replied smugly.

“Hmm, in that case,” Erin tried to think of the most expensive restaurant they’d be allowed into wearing jeans.

“Oh no,” Jay said with a mix of humour and apprehension.

Erin laughed again as she made her way ahead of Jay down the stairs, affording him the opportunity to let his eyes roam over her backside, appreciating her curves the way she’d been doing to him moments ago.

He couldn’t wait to get his negotiations started. He half expected her to say no when he’d all but reduced himself to begging to have first go at driving their new rig. It had been worth the grovelling though. So worth it. And now that he’d had a taste he felt it necessary to renegotiate the terms of their partnership. He wasn’t going to insist he drive from now on, he couldn’t expect her to give up that kind of control, nor did he want to take that from her. If he were completely honest it was kind of hot his girl was such a badass behind the wheel. But he didn’t see anything wrong with them splitting the driving. He knew she felt safe with him, trusted him. Surely she would see the fairness in sharing the driving fifty-fifty? Of course he’d make sure to properly thank her during the negotiations too.

When the waiter finished pouring the glasses of wine Jay suggested they order, forgoing the pints of beer they usually opted for, Jay held up his glass. Erin cocked her head to the side, amused, but raised her glass to toast with him.
“Thanks Angel,” he said tipping his glass against hers with a wink, knowing she’d understand he was appreciative of getting to drive the truck earlier tonight. Erin laughed out loud. The raspy tone always made his heart beat speed up.
“You’re welcome grasshopper,” she replied cheekily.

Jay made a face at her. He wasn’t sure he liked this new nickname but he’d play along if it got him what he wanted.

They teased and bantered over dinner, unwinding from the intensity of the day. Jay loved this time with Erin, when they transitioned from partners to lovers with their easy friendship bridging the two. It was sometimes difficult keeping things professional and focused on the job but it was always easy coming home together.

It wasn’t hard to watch Erin slowly lick the chocolate cake from her fork as she savoured every bite of their shared dessert either. God he loved the way this woman appreciated food. He was also getting anxious to get home.

After paying they headed out. In the car Jay decided to start negotiations. “So I was thinking,” he started, letting his fingers softly dance across her thigh as she drove.

“Oh yea,” she said giving him a sideways glance and a smirk.

“Yea. You trust me, so I was thinking we should at least split driving fifty-fifty,” he said letting his fingers dance closer between her legs.

She smacked his hand away trying to focus as she drove. “Yea I dunno about that,” she said holding in her smile.

“Erin,” he started but refused to beg again. “I’ll make it worth it and you know it,” he said squeezing her thigh as she looked for a parking spot outside the apartment.

Erin slightly chuckled as she parked. He was right. While everyone thought she wore the pants in the relationship, Jay dominated in the bedroom. And really their relationship was fifty-fifty like it’s supposed to be. Maybe it was time she let everyone see that because she did trust him.

As they got out and headed in she said, “What do I get for fifty-fifty driving?” she asked.

Jay leaned down and whispered in her ear exactly what he planned to do to her. Erin let out a shiver as she bit her lip. “We’ll see,” she winked as they headed up.

Once inside the apartment, Jay pushed her back against the door and kissed her hard. He left her breathless as she held on to his neck. “I’m just getting started,” he whispered picking her up and carrying her to bed.

Erin squealed and giggled as he tossed her on the bed before stripping. He knew she’d been admiring him earlier while he finished paperwork so he’d let her get a good look before he properly thanked her.
He knew she was totally turned on by the time he was completely naked and crawling over her kissing.

“Patience Erin,” he whispered, kissing her lips.

Erin arched up, her jeans and sweater rubbing all over him. He pushed her back to the bed. “Patience,” he said again making her growl.

He slowly stripped her, worshipping her body with kisses as he went. Once he had her naked, he sat back on his heels just admiring her body. “So….. about driving fifty-fifty,” he whispered, his fingers softy trailing over her thighs and hips as he used his knees to spread her open.

“I dunno,” she said watching him as she tried to lay still. “Make it worth it, and we’ll talk,” she smirked.

“Oh it’ll be worth it,” he said kissing her hard. He put her hands above her head on her pillow. “Do not move them,” he said.

Erin just watched him, panting for breath, as he kissed down her body. He grabbed her hips giving them a gentle squeeze as he eyed her up and down.

He loved the effect he had on her, loved that he did this to her. “You will say yes,” he smirked before blowing a breath across her.

Erin wiggled and he grabbed her hips holding her still. “Don’t move,” he said again. He held her hips as he slowly lowered himself to the bed.

“Jay,” she panted knowing he was going to do exactly what she loved to get his way.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered before his tongue snuck out and licked her up. Erin’s hips arched, a moan escaped, and her hands came down to tug his hair.

Jay pulled back making her moan and toss her head; “I said don’t move,” he said moving her hands back.

A whimper escaped her lips and he knew he had her. “I mean it Erin, don’t move,” he said getting a nod from her.

He pinned her hips again before slowly licking her once more. “Jay,” she moaned as he did it again.

“Say yes,” he whispered keeping his tongue moving super slow just savoring her.

Erin just grunted moving her hands back to his hair and tugging. Jay immediately stopped again and put her hands back. “Don’t make me cuff you,” he whispered nipping at her ear.

“Fuck,” she panted arching against him.

Jay smirked as he slowly kissed back down her body setting her on fire. “So wet,” he whispered slowly licking again and letting his tongue lazily circle her clit.

Erin whimpered and moaned, her head tossing side to side at his torture. “Say yes Erin. Say you trust me enough,” he whispered slowly doing it again.

“Jay,” she whimpered, her hips arching as he pushed them back down.

“Say it,” he whispered nipping the inside of her thigh.

“Yes, God yes, please,” she moaned.

Jay smiled and placed a soft kiss on her clit. “Yes what?” he whispered ,spreading her lips wide to him.

“You can drive. I trust you,” she panted as she locked her eyes on him.

“I know you do,” he smiled before his lips locked over her clit and he sucked hard. He didn’t let up even though her hands made it back to his hair, tugging. He sucked and flicked her never letting up.

She tugged hard on his hair letting him know she was about to come as she moaned his name over and over. He slid two fingers in her still sucking her clit and she exploded moaning and screaming his name.

He licked her up letting his fingers rest in her as she rode it out. As she caught her breath he slowly eased his fingers out and kissed on her. “You’re an angel,” he whispered again kissing her lips.

“Your angel,” she smiled locking her legs around him. Jay kissed her hard as he slid into her.

“My angel. My Erin,” he panted.

She nodded, her eye glassy from their love making and her love for him, being surrounded in his love. “Don’t hold back,” she whispered just needing him.

Jay buried his face in her neck, his control slipping from needing her all day. Thoughts of taking her in the truck having floated through his head. He kissed and sucked on the sensitive spots on her neck as he thrust hard and fast.

Erin held on knowing this was exactly how the night would end after letting him drive, needing it just as much as him. She arched into him, squeezed him, kept him going until they were both teetering on the edge. “I’m gonna come,” she panted arching up hard.

Jay’s moan was the only answer she needed that he would too. She arched up again and squeezed him tight sending them both into oblivion.

It took several minutes for them to come down and he snuggled her after. “You really are an angel,” he whispered, making her giggle as they basked in the afterglow.

“You’re welcome grasshopper,” she giggled as he groaned, snuggling her close.


@bushferlove @cpdhalstudfan @cb150681

anonymous asked:

What about a one shot from the "grinding" Regina did with a stranger while thinking about Robin from Signed, Sealed, and Delivered? *adjusts halo on head*

OK I had fun.  RATED M


She’s tired of those worried looks, the hushed tones of concern asking Are you sure you’re alright?

She’s tired of Emma Swan looking at her like she sees right through her, offering to stay in and order takeout with her instead of going out for the night with the girls because she knows she’s going through a hard time right now.  

Regina is going through a hard time right now, of course. She misses her husband terribly, but what’s even worse than the dull, and sometimes acute ache of missing him is seeing pity in everyone’s eyes, and having to continually answer their incessant questions as to whether she’s alright by telling them that she is just fine.

But if she continues to withdraw and avoid all nights out, no one will believe her, and the questions will never stop.  If she can’t move on, she should at least be able to play the part of a woman who has done so.

The idea of a bachelorette had been….seemingly perfect.  A night of ogling beautiful people and drinking and spending time with girls, without any lovey-dovey couples reminding her of what she has lost.  Plenty of distractions, with less opportunity for people to focus nervous glances in her direction.

But the thing about bachelorettes is, they are filled with conversations of weddings and marriages and all that stuff that she is really trying to avoid, and she didn’t really think this through when she accepted the invitation.  Excited talk of marriage reminds her of how lovesick she had been as a young, engaged woman, head over heels for her husband.  

So she dulls the pain and annoyance with liquor. Lots of liquor.

Keep reading

Married

What would have happened, I wonder, if Cutter never showed up at the fake wedding?

“You are my always, and I just want the chance to be yours.”

“Oliver…”

A silence settled between Oliver and Felicity as he finished his vows. She looked in his eyes, his waiting eyes, and she had to fight back the tears filling her own. It felt like this moment was frozen in time, and all the issues between them seemed like a bad dream. Felicity could still feel her love for this man entwined around her soul, and at the same time, his lie and betrayal brought her pause. She wanted this wedding to be real. She wanted to forgive Oliver and believe everything he just said to her. But she also knew that if she did, she might not be able to forgive herself.

“Ms. Smoak,” the attendant spoke to her. “You can say your vows when you’re ready.”

Felicity continued to gaze at Oliver, an emotional tug of war going on inside her. What is happening here? she thought. What am I doing? It was just a few hours ago that she and Oliver were at the loft, the anguish of their separation barely contained as he babbled on about the logistics of packing and moving and saving money on gas mileage. Oliver stood there with her, keeping his distance, honoring her wishes for space. He looked so diminished. Felicity could see the spark that once shone in his eyes had faded, and she could feel his guilt too, could feel him blaming himself. Like her, he was confused, asking himself if he should stay or go.

Before Felicity gave him back the ring, she saw a willingness in him to talk, to come completely clean about everything that came between them.  And she might have settled in for that talk, give him the chance he wanted to explain why he chose to lie and risk everything.

William. It all comes back to him. When she rolled herself into the room and heard Oliver’s recorded message to his son, something inside her broke. She had told Oliver she didn’t care he had a son, but as things unfolded, when William was taken by Drakhe, forcing Oliver and the team (herself included) to rescue him, it didn’t feel like it used to when they worked together in the past. She was concerned about William’s safety, yes. He was completely innocent in all this. He didn’t even know Oliver was his father. So when they went to go get him, the mission felt like another lie to her. For some reason, Oliver denied her any emotional attachment for the boy. She wanted to know why. She wanted Oliver to explain to her why he thought keeping William away from her was even a consideration.

Felicity was right when she told Oliver that day in the loft they needed to talk. And perhaps if she did not feel she was a part of his inclusiveness, that talk would have happened.

Suddenly, both Oliver and Felicity’s com links came on and John’s voice spoke to them.

“Guys, there’s still no sign of Cutter. We have a two block perimeter in place and there’s nothing.”

Oliver gazed at Felicity, wanting her to make the decision for the team. “Felicity, what do you think?”

She looked at him briefly, and then she made a decision. “John, stand by and continue monitoring.” She turned to the attendant. “Could you give us a minute?” she asked.

A sudden puzzled look appeared on Oliver’s face as Felicity took his hand and pulled him down to the venue floor. When they were out of earshot, she removed her com link. “Oliver,” she instructed him. “Take out our com. This is between you and me.”

Confused, Oliver complied. “Okay,” he said to her. “Now what? If Cutter…”

“Oliver…shut up. I haven’t felt good about any of this idea of yours. It seems cruel, for both of us.” she stopped talking and tried to put her thoughts together. “Oliver,” she continued. “You…you really are impossible sometimes. I really can’t keep this charade up anymore. Do you know how many times I’ve had this fantasy?”

“What fantasy, Felicity?”

She waved her arm, encompassing the whole venue. “This—a wedding. Being married to you. Having a family and a home and a life together.” She suddenly hit Oliver on his chest. “Goddamn you , Oliver. Why? Why did you lie to me about William and ruin everything?”

Oliver was dumbfounded. He looked at Felicity and could feel her anger. He felt her sadness and confusion. “Felicity, are you…I mean is this the best time and place to have this conversation?”

“Yes!” Felicity responded, raising her voice. “I feel like I’m lying to myself being in this dress. Oliver, this is our life…our life together, and it’s fake. “ The tears she had been fighting back broke through and fell like splashes of crystal onto her face. “Oliver…I…I love you, god help me. But what you did to me, to us…I can’t sweep it under the rug this time and hope you learn from your mistakes. Not this time.”

Oliver heard the truth in her words. He was ready to abide them, give her her right to be angry and disappointed. Then he suddenly thought of all the lies he had told her. They crashed in on him like a confession. From the bullet ridden laptop to William—they were an avalanche of regret and remorse washing over him.

But he also had to recognize that even though he had lied to her all those times; his reasons were not intended to be malicious of hurtful. He acknowledged that lying was just one part of a whole. It somehow had been infused in his DNA; the building blocks that became the new Oliver Queen and Green Arrow. Since the island, he had learned many ways to survive: shutting off his emotions and morality and killing, strategy and tactical skills to make sure he was the last to be left standing at the end of a battle. And lying. He did not define the word as telling an untruth. He saw it as misdirection. A way to keep his enemies guessing.

Felicity was not an enemy. She never would be. His love for her made it an impossibility. Shame danced in Oliver’s heart as he made the connection. What he did to Felicity with William, with the covert visits to Central City—it was all a misdirection on his part. It was a survival instinct.

It was a lie.

“Oliver,” Felicity spoke, breaking him out of his own truths. “Do you want to talk about this or not?”

Oliver felt resolution replace doubt and loss in his heart. “God yes, Felicity. But…I don’t feel comfortable doing it here.” He ran his hand down the tuxedo he was wearing. “In…in these clothes,” he added.

Felicity nodded. “Me too,” she agreed. “So what do we tell the others?”

Oliver put his com piece back into her ear. “I got this,” he told her.

…”you copy.” John’s voice returned. “Oliver…Felicity…where the hell are you?”

“John,” Oliver answered. “Uh, there’s been a change of plans. Disengage your perimeter sweep and we’ll meet back at the bunker later.”

“Oliver…” But Oliver took his com link out again. He looked at Felicity. “Alright?” he asked.

She let a brief smile chip away at some of the crystal tears she had shed. “Yeah, that will do. So…where do you want to go to—talk?”

Oliver smiled back at her. “Well, we can’t go to the Bunker—too many witnesses. And…I’m not ready for the loft yet.” A sudden inspiration gripped him. “Are you hungry?”

Felicity tilted her head. “What do you have in mind?”

“How does Big Belly Burger sound to you? It will be a safe, neutral place.” He pointed at his tuxedo again. “We can pretend we’re newlyweds. I might even hold your hand.”

Felicity shook her head. “No, Oliver, no more pretending. And yeah, Big Belly sounds perfect. Are you buying?”

“Always,” he told her.

@hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @louiseblue1 @tdgal1 @dmichellewrites @geemarie @cruzrogue @ruwithmeguys @ruwithmeguys @ibelievenu @vaelisamaza @jaspertown @storyteller0311

Prompt #32: kitty

This prompt idea hit me while I was at work. Don’t know why or how but I had to write it. I hope you all enjoy! Again, this is mature and grown folks eyes only. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. *wink* Enjoy! 

Ahsha tapped her index finger against the mouse. Decisions, decisions. The thought of Derek screwing her while she was suspended in the air, made the insides of her thighs quiver. She imagined it, so much that she could feel his hands running over her heated skin. She felt his lips grazing her ears and massaging the tender skin on her neck. His thick fingers traveling down her abs, making their way to the top of her La Perla parties.

Now he was whispering in her ear. Talking about how hard he was going to fuck her and how many times he’d make her cum. Now she was beginning to work up a sweat and-

“Baby, you okay,” a deep voice bellowed. Ahsha’s eyes shot open and landed on her husband, who was giving her a worried stare.

“Huh-oh,” the dancer slammed her laptop shut. “Daydreaming.”

“Looked like you had fallen asleep with your head up, to me,” Derek replied, placing his bags by the closet before making his way over to his wife. “Hey beautiful,” he crooned, pecking Ahsha’s lips.

They had been Miami living for 3 years now. The move was a big step in their relationship and had brought them closer. In Miami, they were making new memories, plus eventually starting a family.

Neither one of them knew anyone in Miami, so they were forced to build a stronger bond. “Hey,” Ahsha grinned, pulling Derek into another kiss. “How was Oklahoma?”

“Hot as hell. With it being August, it feels like you’re walking inside an oven there,” Derek replied, pulling his shoes off and sitting on the bed beside his wife. “Everything run smoothly while I was gone? How was your appointment?”

“Doc says I’m good to go,” the dancer nodded, earning a smile from her husband. This was opening up yet another new chapter for them. After 3 years of marriage, they were finally ready to start a family.

“That’s good to hear,” Derek cheesed, his emotions all over the place. Ever since their wedding, he had been looking forward to starting a family with Ahsha. He hoped for a big family, though Ahsha insisted that he give her the chance to have one baby first.

“Mmmmmhhhm,” she hummed, thinking about the order waiting on her confirmation. They would have a lot of fun ‘trying’ to get pregnant.

“Maybe we can try after I get out of the shower,” Derek winked, kissing Ahsha’s cheek before jumping off the bed. Of course, he couldn’t help but tease his wife, by throwing his shirt in Ahsha’s direction while he stepped into their master bathroom.

Two Days Later

Living in Miami, meant occasional visits from Kyle, who had fallen in love with the city. Though she still lived in California, she no longer danced for the Devil Girls. Dealing with Jelena as an owner wasn’t easy. That wasn’t a surprise because she was hard to deal with as a captain and teammate.

The two friends were riding around in Ahsha’s new red BMW convertible on the busy Miami streets.

“I could get used to this life,” Kyle sighed, throwing her head back as her hair blew in the wind. “Ya’ll can adopt me, ya know. I promise to not lift a finger to help cook or clean, but I’m good company,” Kyle beamed. “Since you two haven’t given me a niece or nephew yet.”

Ahsha rolled her eyes. Between Kyle and her parents, everyone wanted a baby. Sloane barely waited two months after they were married to ask if her only child was expecting. Derek had been wanting children since their wedding night and he would have been fine if she gave birth the next day. Ahsha wanted to enjoy marriage as two before bringing a child into their lives. Plus, with both still growing in their careers, she wanted to get settled. Though you could never be completely ready for children, the new wife just didn’t want to rush it and Derek was perfectly fine with that. After three years, he understood why Ahsha didn’t want to rush but now he was more than ready.

“We are trying if that cools your nerves,” Ahsha replied, a smirk on her face as she thought of her next statement. “Which brings me to this. What do you think about sex toys?”

Kyle’s head shot up. Snatching off her sunglasses, Kyle stared back at her best friend, “Ahsha Renae Roman, what on earth do you need a sex toy for? Don’t you have one walking around the house every day?”

Ahsha chuckled. “I don’t need it for those reasons. Besides, who says I can’t have toys and a husband? But I’m talking about swings. Have you tried one?”

This only made Kyle’s eyes get bigger. “My word, my best friend is going 50 Shades of Grey on me! I’ve tried some crazy shit, but that’s not one.” Little did Kyle know, Ahsha had installed a pole in their bedroom for exercise purposes. She had only used it once for exercise.

“I’m thinking about getting one. But I don’t want to try something new if it means I will break my neck. That’s why I asked you,” the dancer shared.

“Oh, my God, you’re serious,” Kyle gasped. “Well, looks like we better get you a swing. I’m sure there are stores galore around Miami. Hold on,” the southern belle exclaimed, taking out her phone. “Hmmm, let’s see…there one downtown. Let’s check that one out.”

…………………

Fifteen minutes later, they were in downtown Miami.  Kyle barely let Ahsha park before she jumped out of the car and walked towards the shop like she was a child getting candy. “Before we go in, I have rules. I’m not sticking any strange objects inside of me. If we don’t know what it is, we’re leaving it. Oh and no whips and chains allowed,” Ahsha explained to her friend who was more interested in an outfit in the window.  

“Boo! You’re no fun,” Kyle whined, sticking out her tongue before pulling Ahsha inside. “Now where are the swings?”

Ahsha scanned the store’s aisles and looked at the many toys they had to offer. There were many things that Ahsha didn’t even want to imagine using. “No, don’t even think about it,” the dancer warned when Kyle snatched up a box of silver balls.

“But they vibrate,” Kyle shot back. “See.” She switched on a button and the metal balls began to vibrate loudly. “Well what’s the point of these puppies if they are so loud? Everyone would hear the vibration coming from your cooch.”

“You would be the one to wear them out in public. Let’s put these back before you go getting yourself into trouble,” Ahsha stated, placing the box back on the shelf. Her eyes fell to the bottom shelf. “Whoa, who would want a dildo this big?”

“A brave soul, girl. A brave soul,” Kyle added with wide eyes. “Swings are this way,” the blonde sang, skipping over to the next aisle.

“Hello, welcome to Kitty’s. How may I assist you,” an employee asked. Ahsha and Kyle turned around to find a tall woman wearing lingerie and pigtails. When the store worker saw Ahsha, her mouth fell open. “Ahsha Roman! Oh my God, I love your choreography. Love watching the Heat girls do your work out on the court. I’m majoring in dance, so I watch a lot of your stuff. I’m Trisha by the way.”

Great. Now everyone would hear about the Heat’s choreographer and Derek Roman’s wife, visiting a sex store. Ahsha could already imagine the headlines on those nosey blog sites. Derek Roman not making Ahsha’s kitty purr. The dancer was seen shopping for toys.

“Thanks,” Ahsha replied nervously, while Kyle snickered. “Um… I was looking at these….uh swings.”

Trisha chuckled to herself. She could hear the worry in Ahsha’s voice and it was written on her face. “Don’t worry, I won’t leak this news to the press. I don’t even get down like that, Mrs. Roman.”

“Thank you so much. I appreciate that…a lot,” Mrs. Roman gushed thankfully. “What do you know about these?”

“Well I’ve never tried one because I have the flexibility of a 90-year-old. But I’m sure with you being a dancer, you’ll do fine,” Trisha explained.

“Are they sturdy? Because my friend is as clumsy as they come. She won’t fall on her head will she,” Kyle chimed in. From the expression on Trisha’s face, she was assuming Kyle would be joining in on the fun. “Oh no! I’m not a part of this. Just here to help my girl out.”

“Okay, because I was about to tell you about our double swing…” Trisha began her voice trailing off when she saw the look of disgust on both Kyle and Ahsha’s face. One, Kyle didn’t get down like that with her friends. Two, Ahsha didn’t share.

They spent about ten more minutes in the store until they walked out with two large shopping bags.

………….

Two Days Later

Before Kyle left to go back to Los Angeles, she helped Ahsha set up her new toy. Suspended next to the bed, the swing made the Roman bedroom resemble a scene out of a dirty film. Ahsha couldn’t wait to see Derek’s face when he walked into her entire setup. They had never tried the whole role play thing. But, oh did Ahsha have this all planned out. Tonight, she wouldn’t be Ahsha Roman. Dressed in a tight black leather jumpsuit, paired with a pair of thigh high boots. Ahsha had transformed into Kitty and Kitty was trying to conceive tonight.

Milkshake blasted over the sound system as Ahsha finished her makeup. A smokey eye and red lip made Ahsha feel extra sexy. Derek would surely want a taste of her milkshake after the she got done with him and after he saw her costume.

The alarm buzzed and Derek came through the front door. Ahsha was waiting in the hallway, facing the entrance. She held a riding whip behind her back. Even though she didn’t intend to use it, it finished off her Catwoman-esque look. As soon as Derek opened the door and saw his wife, his mouth began to water. The way the black leather was hugging Ahsha’s curves had him wanting to take her right there. Her legs looked a mile long in the thigh high heeled boots. A mask covering just her eyes gave her a dangerous appeal.

“Hey baby,” Ahsha sang, her voice low and sexy as she sashayed over to the baller. Her hips seemed to move to their own rhythm. Bouncing side to side as her heels clicked against the marble floor.

“Mrs. Roman…” he began, reaching out to grab his wife’s hips, only to be swatted away by the riding whip she had hidden behind her back.

Placing the whip to Derek’s lips, she said, “Tonight, I’m Kitty,” she whispered, letting her tongue lick his ear. With that, she purred, rolling her tongue against her teeth. Kitty was ready to play and Derek was her prey.

Catching on to Ahsha’s game, the player began to play along. “Kitty huh,” he replied with a smirk. “Okay, whatever Kitty says.”

“Go upstairs and you better be undressed by time I make it up,” Ahsha demanded, before placing a kiss on Derek’s cheek. “I have a surprise waiting on you.”

“A surprise just for me? Let me get my ass up here then. Don’t keep me waiting Mrs. Roman- I mean Kitty.” Derek smacked his wife on her leather clad ass before climbing the steps. The dancer ran to the kitchen to retrieve the wine.  

By time she got upstairs Derek was standing in front of the swing, shirtless, but still in his jeans. “Baby, what the hell is this thing,” he asked, pulling at the straps.

“A swing,” Ahsha replied, earning a cocked brow in return. “A sex swing.”

Derek’s mouth curved into a grin. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Ahsha had a few things in mind. “Whatever you want to do with me,” she teased, running her hands up Derek’s midsection, feeling on his tight abs.

“You trying to get pregnant tonight, huh,” Derek said, letting Ahsha unbuckle his belt.

“That’s the plan,” she teased with a wink. Starting a family with her husband made Ahsha feel whole. Like her life had come full circle.

“I’m pretty sure I can help with that,” Derek crooned, taking Ahsha’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed his way up her arm until he reached her lips. Taking her bottom lip between his teeth, Derek greeted his wife with an erotic kiss. They were both hungry for each other and Ahsha’s outfit and daring toy, the spark was already set. Ahsha kissed him back with equal favor. Their tongues melted together, fighting for dominance. Derek’s hands gripped the dancer’s firm cheeks, pulling her into his hardness. Tonight, wouldn’t be about love making and that much was clear just by the kiss.

Derek growled under his breath, picking the dancer up and tossing her in the middle of the bed. From the look in his eye, Ahsha could tell Derek was about to tear her up with no mercy. Licking his lips, Derek grabbed the tiny metal zipper that sat in the middle of her breasts. “I love this little outfit, but it’s gotta come off,” he muttered, slowly pulling the zipper down to Ahsha’s navel before stopping. Then he leaned forward, running his tongue from Ahsha’s navel to her cleavage. She had gone all out for tonight. Not only did she bring the kink, she wore her most expensive lingerie. Stopping, the player glanced up at his wife. “After tonight, you may be pregnant with twins,” he teased, his statement sounding more like a promise.

“That’s all up to you, Roman,” Ahsha replied, just wanting to feel his touch on every inch of her skin. Derek’s fingers gently massaged her sides before he began pulling her arms out of the tight sleeves. All the time it took for her to put on this getup didn’t even matter. Derek was ripping it off within seconds. The entire top of the catsuit was sitting at her hips, exposing the bright red Bordelle bra, which had the same kink as the rest of her outfit. “But before we get to that…” The petite dancer roughly pushed against the wall of Derek’s chest.

Derek rolled onto his back, bringing Ahsha with him, letting her straddle his lap. His hardness pressed against her center, sending waves throughout her body. Glancing over at the stripper pole they had installed a month ago, made the dancer even hornier. Suddenly, her confidence made her get up and walk over to the pole.

“What are you doing,” Derek questioned, biting his lip because he knew exactly where Ahsha was headed. Slinging one leg around the cool metal, Ahsha looked back at Derek who was now sitting up on the edge of the bed. A few times, the dancer had given her husband a show, showing off a couple of moves she learned in her pole dancing workout class. She reached for the catsuit that was jumbled at her waist, pulling it down and teasing Derek with what was underneath. Removing the boots, then the catsuit, Ahsha stood before Derek in the red bodice and matching thong. Her dancer’s body looked delicious in the sexy lingerie. “Damn,” Derek muttered under his breath. The things he was thinking about doing to his wife were criminal.

Her chocolate skin was glistening against the red fabric. When she bent over, he came undone. Thinking about the way she would feel in his hands, had Derek wanting to yank her over to the bed. Instead he watched as Ahsha’s hips swayed to her own beat. No music and Ahsha still managed to enchant Derek with her smooth, sultry moves. It didn’t take long for Derek to harden. It was almost painful and Ahsha knew exactly what she was doing. She seemed to work the pole with ease, her dance skills and technique obvious with every move.

Slowly walking over to her husband, Ahsha undid one of golden buckles that decorated the front of the bra. Resting her hands on Derek’s knees and leaning forward, Ahsha captured Derek’s lips. The player pulled Ahsha onto his lap, placing her legs on both sides of his thighs. “You are sexy as hell, you know that,” he commented, tapping one of Ahsha’s exposed cheeks. “You in this outfit, that swing and catsuit…girl, you are asking for platinum dick tonight.”

Ahsha laughed, “I get that on a regular basis, baby. But I’ll gladly take it,” she replied, grinding her hips for emphasis. “Now lay back.”

“I’m assuming this still Kitty talking,” Derek asked, gripping Ahsha’s hips. He loved when his wife took control in the bedroom.

“No, it’s your wife talking. Lay down,” Ahsha demanded, pushing Derek’s back to the bed. She straddled his hips and ran her small hands up his torso. Derek was much larger than she was but Ahsha felt a sense of control. His hands wrapped around Ahsha’s thighs as she began unbuckling his belt. Their eyes connected, both their lips set in a permanent smirk when Ahsha bent forward. Her warm lips placed soft kisses on Derek’s stomach. The player’s hands found themselves in her long, dark locs as her tongue trailed back down towards the top of his boxers. Curious hands roamed until they met his hardened piece. Ahsha’s center pulsed at the feel of Derek thick length under her hand. Reaching inside his boxers, Ahsha gazed up at Derek, with the naughtiest smile. Using the tip of her tongue, Ahsha teased the tip of his piece, loving the feeling of him tensing up under her touch. Slowly, she sunk down, using one of her hands to wrap around his thickness. Derek relaxed against the comforter, allowing Ahsha to please him. The combination of hard sucks and the warmth of her tongue, drove Derek mad.  

It didn’t take much for Ahsha to get him weak in the knees. Derek’s fingers pressed gently into her scalp as Ahsha’s head moved up and down. Feeling like he was close Derek quickly pushed Ahsha’s head up, “Nice try,” he said, sitting up and throwing her to the side so she landed on her back. Derek stripped out of the rest of his clothes before picking Ahsha up, earning a squeal. Placing her in front of the swing, the baller began to finish undressing his favorite dancer. When they were both naked, he lifted her onto the swing. “This swing can get us in a lot of trouble,” Derek said.

“What kind of trouble,” Ahsha mocked playing right into Derek’s game.

“Oh if you only knew. But it won’t hurt, I promise,” he cooed, kissing her lips. “There’s so many positions we can try on this thing.”

“Mmmhhhmm,” she agreed.

“I hope your arms are strong,” Derek challenged before tilting Ahsha’s body until her hands were touching the floor. This swing was already turning out to be a good investment. Ahsha waited in a handstand, confused but intrigued by what Derek had in store. The fact that she couldn’t see him made her even more excited. Suddenly, she felt her legs being lowered back to the ground until the tips of her toes barely touch the carpet. Then her legs were spread and the warm sensation hit her center as Derek began eating her out from the back. Her back automatically arched. Derek held her up so all the weight wouldn’t be sitting in her arms, but it didn’t matter. It felt so good that her entire body suddenly felt heavy. The baller’s thick tongue slipped in and out of her slick folds.

“Fuck, Derek,” Ahsha moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. Using the tips of her toes to push herself back, grinding her hips into his face. Each time, his tongue sinking a little further, his lips massaging hers gently. “Yessss baby!” The player hummed in response, satisfied with the taste of honey on his lips.

Reaching through Ahsha’s legs, Derek used his index finger to lightly stroke her clit. That’s when her already shaking arms finally failed and the poor dancer fell to her elbows. This didn’t stop her husband from following her lead. Derek’s grip tightened on her hips, holding them up so that Ahsha was face down, ass up in his face.

“Still think this swing was a good idea,” Derek asked, teasing her with his thumb. “Hmmm?”

“Derek,” Ahsha cried out, her fingers digging into the rug. This was complete torture and she was loving every moment of it. “If you don’t stop and just fuck me already.” Derek was the only person who got to see this side of Ahsha Roman. The freak came out whenever they were in the bedroom and this time was no different.

“Oh yeah, but I like my view, so you’ll have to wait with your impatient ass,” Derek shot back, flicking his tongue against her exposing center, making her toes curl. This time he didn’t stop, not until he ate her thoroughly. The faster his tongue moved, the wetter she became. She tasted so good that Derek didn’t want to stop. He continued to devour Ahsha, the sounds falling from her lips turning him on more and more.

“I can’t… damn,” Ahsha stuttered. Her mind and mouth wouldn’t even work together. Hell, her body was barely holding it together and Derek wasn’t done. “Fuck!” Ripple after ripple moved over her, causing her body to twitch. Her silk coating Derek’s fingers.  Then the player decided to take it to another level and give Ahsha a taste of her own medicine.

“Now you see how sweet you taste,” he teased, removing his finger from her mouth. Nasty ass, Ahsha thought to herself.

Derek barely gave her time to recover before pulling Ahsha to her feet and out of the swing’s slings.  The shaking in her legs couldn’t be denied. Not that Derek gave her enough time to even stand before he was pushing her forward on the swing again. Ahsha knew she would hate herself for this the next morning. The straps were already digging into her stomach and her arms ached from holding onto the arm straps. But for the sake of getting a proper fuck, she was all in.

Wrapping Ahsha’s legs around his waist, Derek’s pressed his length against his wife’s entrance. “I’ll give you two choices, Roman. You either want it soft or hard? So, what will it be?”

Being in this compromising position, Ahsha didn’t care how Derek gave it to her. “Surprise me,” she cooed, biting her lip.

“You sure? Because you know I’m full of surprises, baby,” he crooned, his deep voice rumbling. Oh, that voice did things to her. Ahsha felt Derek’s hand slide in her hair before he gently wrapped it around his hand and tugged backward. “Last call.” Ahsha felt Derek slowly sink into her warm abyss, inch by inch he fed her until she was full. The slow slide of his shaft felt like magic between her legs.  “Kitty?”  The firmness in Derek’s tone only turned the dancer on.

“Do me how you want,” she muttered breathlessly. “Argh!” Obviously, Derek was feeling a little on the rough side tonight.

“That hard enough for you,” he growled, pounding his wife from behind with no mercy.

“Oh God, yes,” Mrs. Roman cried, her grip on the straps tightening. He felt so good, she could cry real tears. When they got rough like this, Ahsha slept like a baby.

Thrusting in and out, Derek leaned forward, his teeth grazing the back of Ahsha’s neck. From the beginning, she was asking for trouble. From the swing, the catsuit and the lingerie, Ahsha was asking to be sore the next day.

Derek’s muscular thighs burned with every stroke. Pleasing his wife in the bedroom was always his goal. “Shit, Ahsha,” he cursed, still grinding into her wet heat. The way she wrapped tightly around him had him close.

The player loved watching Ahsha’s body react to him. The bounce of her breasts and ass, the arch of her back and the flexing of the muscles in her legs. She was sexy as hell. “Harder,” Ahsha demanded.

“Harder? Like this,” Derek added, his hand gently pulling Ahsha’s head back. “You want me to fuck you like this?”

Ahsha thought the swing would eventually break under their weight and due to the rough way they were handling it. Hell, the entire ceiling could fall in on them and she wouldn’t care. The dick was just too good. “Fuck…yes,” she squealed. Derek made sure to grant Ahsha her wish and more. He picked up his pace, beating Ahsha’s cake like he was the best baker in town. She panted, her muscles tensing as her husband continued his mission to put a baby in her that night. His buttocks tightened as he felt Ahsha’s body begin to quake.

The mind-blowing climax made their bodies go limp. They allowed their bodies to fall back to earth before Derek helped Ahsha out of the swing and over to the bed. The couple collapsed against the sheets, their wet bodies still shaking with aftershocks.

“Damn,” Ahsha mumbled, her chest heaving.

“Damn,” Derek repeated, glancing over at his wife. They looked at the swing and back at each other and laughed.

Kitty was satisfied.

Thank you for reading! Like I said, do not judge me. Um, blame Dersha. Thanks.