look at this beautiful girl. how can you resist a face like that

Internal Conflict:  Five Conflicting Traits of a Likable Hero.

1.  Flaws and Virtues 

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but characters without flaws are boring.  This does not, as many unfortunate souls take it to mean, imply that good, kind, or benevolent characters are boring:  it just means that without any weaknesses for you to poke at, they tend to be bland-faced wish fulfillment on the part of the author, with a tendency to just sit there without contributing much to the plot.

For any character to be successful, they need to have a proportionate amount of flaws and virtues.

Let’s take a look at Stranger Things, for example, which is practically a smorgasbord of flawed, lovable sweethearts.

We have Joyce Byers, who is strung out and unstable, yet tirelessly works to save her son, even when all conventional logic says he’s dead;  We have Officer Hopper, who is drunken and occasionally callous, yet ultimately is responsible for saving the boy’s life;  We have Jonathan, who is introspective and loving, but occasionally a bit of a creeper, and Nancy, who is outwardly shallow but proves herself to be a strong and determined character.  Even Steve, who would conventionally be the popular jerk who gets his comeuppance, isn’t beyond redemption.

And of course, we have my beloved Eleven, who’s possibly the closest thing Stranger Things has to a “quintessential” heroine.  She’s the show’s most powerful character, as well as one of the most courageous.  However, she is also the show’s largest source of conflict, as it was her powers that released the Demogorgon to begin with.  

Would Eleven be a better character if this had never happened?  Would Stranger Things be a better show?  No, because if this had never happened, Stranger Things wouldn’t even be a show.  Or if it was, it would just be about a bunch of cute kids sitting around and playing Dungeons and Dragons in a relatively peaceful town.

A character’s flaws and mistakes are intended to drive the plotline, and if they didn’t have them, there probably wouldn’t even be a plot.

So don’t be a mouth-breather:  give your good, kind characters some difficult qualities, and give your villains a few sympathetic ones.  Your work will thank you for it.

2.  Charisma and Vulnerability

Supernatural has its flaws, but likable leads are not one of them.  Fans will go to the grave defending their favorite character, consuming and producing more character-driven, fan-created content than most other TV shows’ followings put together.

So how do we inspire this kind of devotion with our own characters?  Well, for starters, let’s take a look at one of Supernatural’s most quintessentially well-liked characters:  Dean Winchester.

From the get-go, we see that Dean has charisma:  he’s confident, cocky, attractive, and skilled at what he does.  But these qualities could just as easily make him annoying and obnoxious if they weren’t counterbalanced with an equal dose of emotional vulnerability. 

As the show progresses, we see that Dean cares deeply about the people around him, particularly his younger brother, to the point of sacrificing himself so that he can live.  He goes through long periods of physical and psychological anguish for his benefit (though by all means, don’t feel obligated to send your main character to Hell for forty years), and the aftermath is depicted in painful detail.

Moreover, in spite of his outward bravado, we learn he doesn’t particularly like himself, doesn’t consider himself worthy of happiness or a fulfilling life, and of course, we have the Single Man Tear™.

So yeah, make your characters beautiful, cocky, sex gods.  Give them swagger.  Just, y’know.  Hurt them in equal measure.  Torture them.  Give them insecurities.  Make them cry.  

Just whatever you do, let them be openly bisexual.  Subtext is so last season.

3.  Goals For the Future and Regrets From the Past

Let’s take a look at Shadow Moon from American Gods.  (For now, I’ll have to be relegate myself to examples from the book, because I haven’t had the chance to watch the amazing looking TV show.) 

Right off the bat, we learn that Shadow has done three years in prison for a crime he may or may not have actually committed.  (We learn later that he actually did commit the crime, but that it was only in response to being wronged by the true perpetrators.)  

He’s still suffering the consequences of his actions when we meet him, and arguably, for the most of the book:  because he’s in prison, his wife has an affair (I still maintain that Laura could have resisted the temptation to be adulterous if she felt like it, but that’s not the issue here) and is killed while mid-coital with his best friend.

Shadow is haunted by this for the rest of the book, to the point at which it bothers him more than the supernatural happenings surrounding him.  

Even before that, the more we learn about Shadow’s past, the more we learn about the challenges he faced:  he was bullied as a child, considered to be “just a big, dumb guy” as an adult, and is still wrongfully pursued for crimes he was only circumstantially involved in.

But these difficulties make the reader empathize with Shadow, and care about what happens to him.  We root for Shadow as he tags along with the mysterious and alternatively peckish and charismatic Wednesday, and as he continuously pursues a means to permanently bring Laura back to life.

He has past traumas, present challenges, and at least one goal that propels him towards the future.  It also helps that he’s three-dimensional, well-written, and as of now, portrayed by an incredibly attractive actor.

Of course (SPOILER ALERT), Shadow never does succeed in fully resurrecting Laura, ultimately allowing her to rest instead, but that doesn’t make the resolution any less satisfying.  

Which leads to my next example…       

4.  Failure and Success 

You remember in Zootopia, when Judy Hopps decides she wants to be cop and her family and town immediately and unanimously endorse her efforts?  Or hey, do you remember Harry Potter’s idyllic childhood with his kindhearted, adoptive family?  Oh!  Or in the X-Files, when Agent Mulder presents overwhelming evidence of extraterrestrial life in the first episode and is immediately given a promotion?  No?

Yeah, me neither.  And there’s a reason for this:  ff your hero gets what they want the entire time, it will be a boring, two-dimensional fantasy that no one will want to read.  

A good story is not about the character getting what they want.  A good story is about the character’s efforts and their journey.  The destination they reach could be something far removed from what they originally thought they wanted, and could be no less (if not more so) satisfying because of it.

Let’s look at Toy Story 3, for example:  throughout the entire movie, Woody’s goal is to get his friends back to their longtime owner, Andy, so that they can accompany him to college.  He fails miserably.  None of his friends believe that Andy was trying to put them in the attic, insisting that his intent was to throw them away.  He is briefly separated from them as he is usurped by a cute little girl and his friends are left at a tyrannical daycare center, but with time and effort, they’re reunited, Woody is proven right, and things seem to be back on track.

Do his efforts pay off?  Yes – just not in the way he expected them to.  At the end of the movie, a college-bound Andy gives the toys away to a new owner who will play with them more than he will, and they say goodbye.  Is the payoff bittersweet?  Undoubtedly.  It made me cry like a little bitch in front of my young siblings.  But it’s also undoubtedly satisfying.      

So let your characters struggle.  Let them fail.  And let them not always get what they want, so long as they get what they need.  

5.  Loving and Being Loved by Others

Take a look back at this list, and all the characters on it:  a gaggle of small town kids and flawed adults, demon-busting underwear models, an ex-con and his dead wife, and a bunch of sentient toys.  What do they have in common?  Aside from the fact that they’re all well-loved heroes of their own stories, not much.

But one common element they all share is they all have people they care about, and in turn, have people who care about them.  

This allows readers and viewers to empathize with them possibly more than any of the other qualities I’ve listed thus far, as none of it means anything without the simple demonstration of human connection.

Let’s take a look at everyone’s favorite caped crusader, for example:  Batman in the cartoons and the comics is an easy to love character, whereas in the most recent movies (excluding the splendid Lego Batman Movie), not so much. 

Why is this?  In all adaptions, he’s the same mentally unstable, traumatized genius in a bat suit.  In all adaptions, he demonstrates all the qualities I listed before this:  he has flaws and virtues, charisma and vulnerability, regrets from the past and goals for the future, and usually proportionate amounts of failure and success.  

What makes the animated and comic book version so much more attractive than his big screen counterpart is the fact that he does one thing right that all live action adaptions is that he has connections and emotional dependencies on other people.  

He’s unabashed in caring for Alfred, Batgirl, and all the Robins, and yes, he extends compassion and sympathy to the villains as well, helping Harley Quinn to ultimately escape a toxic and abusive relationship, consoling Baby Doll, and staying with a child psychic with godlike powers until she died.

Cartoon Batman is not afraid to care about others.  He has a support network of people who care about him, and that’s his greatest strength.  The DC CU’s ever darker, grittier, and more isolated borderline sociopath is failing because he lacks these things.  

 And it’s also one of the reasons that the Lego Batman Movie remains so awesome.


God willing, I will be publishing fresh writing tips every week, so be sure to follow my blog and stay tuned for future advice and observations! 

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

Rhythm | Lee Joo Heon | One-Shot

jooheon (monstax) + you (reader)
word count: 7,233
warnings: i have no excuse for this flithy, graphic smut (that includes but is not limited to thigh riding, breath play, mild degradation, spanking, etc) and strong language (some slut shaming) and brief mentions of infidelity
a/n: i was inspired by the new mv and channeled that inspiration into a gang!au, bad boy jooheon sexy time fest and before you say anything yes i know he is a total squish in real life that’s why it’s called fiction :)

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{PART 28} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Tricking Yoongi proves to be easier than you could have ever hoped, as you stumble upon just a taste of what your awakened abilities can achieve. However, in your haste to serve Yoongi punishment for his crimes; you and Jungkook learn that that life and death are just a means to an end - for every living thing…must one day, die.

“To play God not only means to give life; but take it as well. As she stared into the abyss, it stared right back at her…and she finally realised the true meaning behind all things living; even herself.”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} //{Part 27} {Part 28} {Part 29}

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Pleasing you

Synopsis: Stolen from Earth when you were only a teenager, what is left of your life consists of training to become an obedient pleasure slave on Sakaar… that is, until the Grandmaster, your slave driver, decides to gift you to King Loki, who seeks to visit to observe one of the Grandmaster’s infamous gladiator fights. Now, you belong to him, obliged to fulfil his every need. A truly tempting opportunity, is it not? After all—who is the God of Mischief to miss out on all the fun that comes with being king of Asgard?

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 6725
Warnings: (sexual)
submission, kidnapping, (sexual) slavery, imprisonment, mentions of abuse, dub-con, smut

Read it on AO3!

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dating CEO!sebastian...

  • okay ceo!seb would be the most hard working individual you’d ever met 
  • going from almost nothing to everything 
    • the man owns like three different homes in Manhattan and has multiple vacation homes in Europe 
    • and a 20 car garage no doubt
  • he’s always used to getting his way so when you interviewed for his secretary position you told him you don’t deal with bullshit 
  • unsurprisingly you didn’t get the job 
  • but what did surprise you was getting a phone call from Sebastian later that day 
    • “I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me?” all confident and suave 
    • “isn’t that a little unprofessional, Mr. Stan?” but there was so much sass in your voice he couldn’t resist (and neither could you let’s be real)
  • he’d take you out to this super fancy 7 star restaurant, being a complete  gentleman the entire time 
  • you were the first woman he’d taken out on a date that didn’t ask about his wealth 
  • you didn’t even think twice about paying for your half of the bill 
  • he was so awestruck when you did 
    • “can’t let you have all the control,” with a wink that would make his heart stop a beat as he stared at you with heart eyes
  •  you’d take it slow with him knowing it was risky to get involved with a man like him (you’ve heard things about his reputation) 
  • slowly but surely you’d be spending more and more time with each other
  • and it wouldn’t even be expensive dates 
    • just drive in theatres while you two pigged out with junk food 
    • although it’d be a little obvious as you two sat in the back of Sebastian’s giant Cadillac Escalade
  • that night was the first time you saw Seb dressed down 
    • grey sweatpants and a white tshirt 
    • you barely recognised him 
    • but oh boy did he look good 
  • making out in the back of the Escalade before one of his meetings very obviously leaving him with messy hair and an unbuttoned collar 
  • him being all flustered and ansty the entire meeting, not paying attention to anything anyone is saying 
    • bouncing his leg up and down and rubbing his palms over his thighs
  • he just wants to leave and be with you 
  • he finally realises he’s the boss and can just call the meeting over 
  • so he does 
  • and races out of his building, hops in his car and races down to his penthouse where you’re staying 
  • you’re not expecting him to be home for another hour so you’re just starting to work on dinner 
  • his chest is heaving from running up the stairs, lust filled eyes staring you down as he licks his bottom lip, smirking 
    • come here, princess” 
  • you’re dinner tbh
  • sex in the kitchen 
    • just taking you over the counter, you riding him on his expensive leather dining chairs, etc
  • post sex shower and there’s nothing dirty about it 
    • just soft relaxing touches as he washes your hair 
    • massaging your shoulders
    • wrapping you in the fluffiest towel after before dressing you in his sweatpants and shirt
  • “you look beautiful, darling,”
  • helping through stressful and hard times or when he’s had a bad day at work 
  • you’d know he’d have a troubling day when he acts nonchalant about the question of how was your day since he always shares everything 
  • you don’t pry though, you just give him a look that tells him you’re there for him 
    • he caves at the end of the night, crawling into bed and letting you hold him 
    • he just vents about everything and anything 
    • carding your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep 
  • him taking you to all his events
  • and always buying you a new (expensive) dress
    • “only the best for my girl”
  • he gets jealous when he sees one of his business partners making you laugh
  • so he straightens up, grabs two glasses of champagne and waltz over to you
  • hands you the glass of champagne and kisses of passionately before whisking you away 
    • “sebastian are you jealous?”
    • “what, no never, I’m not jealous,” with a nervous chuckle 
    • “you know I’m yours and no one else’s” 
    • ^^ those words calm him so much more than you can ever imagine 
  • he’s so used to girls just using him for the money 
  • and he knows you’re not like that but it gets difficult when he tries to spoil you a little 
  • but it’s never “””a little”””
    • “sebastian this is a whole car”
    • “SURPRISE” 
  • oh my god he’s so cute when waiting for you to finish getting ready for anything 
  • like he’ll be sitting on the edge of the bed, arms on his thigh, head resting on his palm as he’s staring the door down 
  • the second you come out he’ll jump to his feet 
    • “wow you’re so pretty baby,” effectively making him blush
  • it’s a highkey turn on to see him in his nicest suit as he’s concentrating on whatever needs his attention 
  • you’ll be resting in his office as he finishes up some paper work but you’re getting bored (and horny)
  • so you’re obviously gonna crawl onto his lap, something he welcomes every time 
  • grinding your hips onto his crotch and soon enough you’re riding his thigh in front of the floor to ceiling windows for all of Manhattan to see 
  • office sex but he doesn’t close the blinds 
  • leaving his office all flustered and it’s really obvious what just happened but he has the biggest smile on his face 
  • SKI VACATIONS TO THE FRENCH ALPS 
    • he still isn’t a good skier though 
    • and if he’s going down, you’re going down with him 
    • needless to say your bum feels quite bruised from sebastian pulling you down with him
  • sex in front of the fire place of the suite 
  • when it’s time for you both to move in together sebastian obviously wants to spoil the everliving fuck out of you 
  • but you reason with him to get a reasonably priced apartment 
  • because in reality do the two of you really need 13 bed and 7 bath????
  • him making you breakfast but burning it 
    • “let’s just go to a nice cafe instead,” and he agrees immediately 
  • wowowow he would just treat you so damn well 
Neighbors


Inspired by Shawn’s recent Instagram story and this line:

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”


She sighed, looking around the mess that is her new apartment. Her back hurt, her arms were burning and she was so exhausted, she felt like passing out.

“Where do these boxes go, hun?” her dad asked, holding up a box with “books” written on it.

“Just put those in my bedroom, thanks,” she replied, taking a sip from the beer her best friend had handed her.

Moving into your new fancy place in Toronto could be really awesome but also very tiring and she groaned, seeing all the boxes in her living room she had to unpack.

Her best friend put an arm around her shoulders and as if she could read her friend’s mind she said: “Hey, the view makes this bearable, don’t you think?”

She grinned at her friend, squinting her eyes a little because the sun is shining bright on the balcony. “Yeah, true. The view made me buy this!”

“So… when’s the housewarming party?” her friend asked, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows.

The girl shrugged. “I have to put actual furniture here first. And clean up. And decorate.”

“Yes, yes, Miss to-do-list, I get it. It has to be perfect, I know. As always,” her friend stated, rolling her eyes.

They laughed as they go back inside and she knew she’s nowhere near done yet but she already feels at home. It’s a warm feeling. And she knew this is where she belongs.


Three weeks later

She’s on her way to the elevator, carrying a bag with groceries and another shopping bag from H&M because she just couldn’t resist buying that cute dress and the sweater she really needed as the concierge calls her name.

“Excuse me, Miss!”

She turns around. “Yes?”

“Could I ask you for a favor, please?”

She smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a parcel for… um,” he looks at the box, “Mister Shawn Mendes. Your neighbor. I know he hasn’t been home for quite a while but could you just take this for me? I have no space to store this and I would have asked Mrs. Johnson from 310 c but she would just forget about it, you know how she is…”

He smiles at her apologetically and she nods again. “Yeah, I can take it. I mean… I haven’t seen my neighbor yet and I don’t know him but I guess it’s a nice way to say hello”

“He’s very nice. You’ll get along perfectly,” the concierge says with a smirk. “You are both young and so hardworking! And both charming young things.”

She smiles back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that and um… thanks!”

She takes the parcel, briefly looking at it in the elevator. It says “Armani headquarters” on it and it got sent all the way from Milan. She raises her eyebrows a little.

Must be nice being a superstar. Getting free designer stuff all the time.

She felt a bit insecure when she found out who her neighbor was. 

Living door to door with a teenage pop sensation slash superstar could be a bit frightening, knowing how famous he really was.

She dreaded the thought of having lunatic fangirls standing in front of her door, screaming and shouting Shawn’s name but so far it has been very quiet and she hasn’t seen him yet as he was probably busy being the good looking popstar he was, traveling the world, making girls scream wherever he went.

She didn’t really get the hype. 

Her best friend freaked out when she found out who the mysterious neighbor was, making her want to move in with her. 

Or camping on Shawn Mendes’ doormat.

But the girl living in the condo next to him, didn’t get too excited. Sure, he was good looking and talented and cute and all of that.

But she didn’t understand how people could scream and shout, seeing him, shoving phones into his face for a selfie when he was just a regular person who happened to sing and play the guitar.

She didn’t understand until she saw him. In person.

It was a Saturday and she knew he was home.

There were footsteps in the hall, male voices, sounds of a guitar and doors shutting and she took a deep breath, brushed her hair and ringed the bell.

She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, heck, she was in her gym shorts and a loose band shirt she got at a concert some time ago. And she was wearing fuzzy socks.

Not sexy at all.

And she regretted her outfit choice as soon as she saw him, standing in the doorframe, looking like a Greek God or something. A light stubble, messy brown curls sticking up slightly, wearing black pants and a white t shirt that fitted him well and as he looked at her, eyes a bit sleepy and a wry smile spreading across his plump lips, she had to swallow thickly.

He blinked twice.

She looked down at the parcel and up at him.

“Um… hi!”

“Hi,” he said in a deep, raspy voice, smiling down at her.

“I’m your new neighbor and I wanted to say hi and I have this parcel for you and um… yeah, hi…” she rambled, blushing a bit because he was looking at her in a way that made her nervous.

He was checking her out. Briefly looking her up and down and she squared her shoulders a little.
His gaze rested on her bare legs for a little bit too long and he bit his bottom lip in a way that made her heart flutter and race and she felt hot suddenly.

“Oh, thank you so much!” he smiled brightly, taking the parcel from her. It looked tiny in his hands. “And nice to meet you,” he added, stretching his hand out. “I’m Shawn”

She shook his hand, saying her name.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

He leaned against the doorframe, obviously not in a hurry to close the door.

“I just hope I don’t bother you with my music. I’m working on something right now and it can get a bit… loud,” he said with a smug grin, dipping his head a little, after nodding into the direction of his condo.

He was towering over her, playing with the parcel in his huge hands and she looked at his long fingers, noticing a silver ring on his middle finger. He was wearing a black watch that looked cool and expensive and she pressed her lips together. She understood it now. The hype. The fangirls.

He looked like a teenage dream. Almost as if he wasn’t real.

Too handsome for his own good.

She looked up at him. “No, um, all good. I don’t mind.”

He gives her a crooked smile, licking his sinfully plump lips. “Okay, good. Just tell me if it’s too loud… and if you need anything I’m right here,” he said in that soft voice of his she already found so endearing.

She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Yeah, thanks! Goes both ways… the if you need anything thing… not the music thing, obviously…”

She blushed and he smiled at her, running his fingers through his curls. “Yeah,” he replied, never breaking eye contact and she felt like dying on that door mat of his.

“Okay, so I should try this on, I guess,” he frowned, looking at the parcel and she nodded.

“Must be something nice… coming from Italy,” she smiled and suddenly regretted her words. “I only saw that it’s from Milan, I didn’t…”

He laughed and it sounded like the most beautiful thing she has ever heard.

“It’s okay! All good. Yeah, they send me awesome stuff now… it’s just really cool because I actually hate going shopping,” he chuckled, blushing himself.

She smiled at him. “Oh, I can’t relate. Shopping is my favorite hobby.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re a girl… must be natural, eh?”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess. So cliché.”

He smirked and she looked down, avoiding his burning gaze. “Okay, um… I’ll leave you alone now… so you can try your new stuff on and yeah…”

He smiled. “Okay, yeah, see you.”

“See you,” she breathed and tried to walk gracefully back into her condo.

Don’t trip, don’t trip. Don’t mess up.

She exhaled loudly, closing the door after her and let out a little groan.
She reached for her phone because she really needed to talk to her best friend now and she quickly typed OMG CALL ME into her phone, pressing send.


Shawn sighed in frustration, looking into his empty fridge.

Living alone was not as cool as he thought it would be. His clothes were dirty and scattered on the floor in front of his washing machine, there was nothing to eat and he missed his mom.

Coming back from tour to his new posh place felt good at first but now all he wanted was to go back to Pickering to eat his mom’s roast and he started to feel jealous of his little sister who got to sleep in a freshly made bed and eat home cooked food all the time.

He groaned, looking at the stove. There was no salt. He had used everything his mom had given to him and he looked down at the chicken he was trying to make taste somewhat eatable.

He bit down on his bottom lip, turning down the John Mayer song he was listening to.
He could go to the supermarket and actually buy food – and get mobbed in the process.

Or he could ask her.

He was pretty positive that she had salt in her perfectly tidy condo with a full fridge and nice flowers everywhere. She looked like a girl who had flowers in her apartment.

And nice pillows.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Those long, lean legs. Her nice ass, he got a good look at when she walked back to her condo.

The outlines of her obviously nicely shaped breasts through that grey band shirt and he licked his lips again.

He was feeling frustrated, coming back from tour. He was needy, antsy somehow and he had felt hot and bothered, closing the door after receiving his parcel.

Leaning against the door he had to cup himself through his pants adjusting his cock that had started to stir against his boxers that were getting all tight around his dick as she had turned around and he had watched her hips sway slightly.

There were thoughts in his head. Thoughts he shouldn’t have about a girl he didn’t know.
Inappropriate thoughts crossing his mind. About her. Naked. Moaning his name. Panting. Legs spread and back arched.

He tugged at his hair in desperation. He shouldn’t feel like this about a girl he just met but the way she blushed and rambled made him want to be dominant with her. Be rather rough. Take her from behind maybe because he loved that position and she would feel him deep inside of her.

He felt guilty, thinking that. She probably had a boyfriend anyway. And Shawn would leave for Brazil soon. So that was that.

He hesitated a bit before knocking on her door. But he took a deep breath, fixed his hair and knocked.

His heart started to race, hearing footsteps.

She opened the door and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Hi!” he said, his voice cracking a little. “So this thing about needing something came sooner than expected,” he said with an amused huff and she smiled up at him.

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Well, I just came home from tour and the only thing that is in my fridge is some mustard and disgusting smelling milk and I wanted to cook something but I ran out of salt,” he frowned a little, his cheeks turning pink. “That’s why I was wondering if - um – if I could borrow some?”

She nodded, giving him a beautiful genuine smile and his heart did a stupid little jumpy thing he didn’t know it could make until then.

“Sure! I got you.”

She turned around and he was about to drool. He shamelessly stared at her ass and he didn’t want to be like this. Lusting over her like some horny teenager. But he couldn’t help himself.
He totally had the hottest neighbor in all of Canada.

She came back from the kitchen. “There you go,” she smiled and his fingertips brushed over hers as he took the small package from her.

“Thank you so much! You saved me from starving! I mean I could always order pizza but I’m trying to impress my mom.”

She let out a soft giggle. “Good luck with the cooking, it smells like you burned something though.”

He looked over his shoulder in an alarmed way. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I should go look after that! Thanks again!”

And with that he ran back into his apartment, trying to save his dinner.


She looks at her freshly baked cupcakes and knows that there is no way she would eat all of that. She had baked too many cupcakes and couldn’t stop thinking about knocking on his door.

She found it way too cute how he had nothing in his fridge and here she was, practically surrounded by food.

That’s why she takes two cupcakes, arranging them on a plate. This time she is prepared. With gloss on her lips, wearing her favorite bra and a nice t shirt, denim jeans and flip flops. All wavy hair and bare tanned legs. She knocks. And waits.

Maybe he isn’t home.

She is about to turn around as she hears footsteps. And there he is.

Shirtless.

Fucking shirtless, only wearing some sweatpants he must have thrown over in a hurry.

“Hey,” he pants, looking at her, slightly confused.

“Hi! Oh. I’m sorry. Didn’t want to disturb!” she says, no, gasps.

He looks almost photoshopped. Ripped abs, defined v line, pecks and arms, defined and muscular. 

She swallows thickly, looking down.

He looks over his shoulder, an alarmed look on his face. “You aren’t! All good. Can I - er - help you?”

“No, no. I just baked those and have some left over and I thought you might like some?” she says tentatively, holding up the little plate.

He smiles in a genuine way, looking very grateful. But still tense.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you very much!”

He presses his lips together, hearing the high-pitched, female voice coming from his bedroom.

“Shawn? Who is that?”

A blonde girl comes up behind him, looking like she’s on the cover of Sport’s Illustrated or something, wearing nothing but a large men’s shirt.

And now she knows where his shirt is.

On some blonde bombshell with a D cup.

Silicone probably.

“Oh,” she squeals. “Cupcakes? Awesome!” the blonde girl grabs one, grinning at Shawn.

“Who’s that, Shawn? Your neighbor?”

Shawn looks flustered and his cheeks are red. As well as his ears.

“Yeah… that’s my neighbor.” He awkwardly introduces them and he shakes his head slightly - desperate -  at his pretty neighbor who looks shell shocked with her plate in hand.

As if he wanted to say no no she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just an one night stand. Meaningless. I swear. I was thinking about you all the time. Imagining you under me. Because you drive me crazy.

“Um-well,” she blurts out. “I should… leave, I’m sorry. Bye,” she hands Shawn the plate as if it had burned her and almost runs into her condo, leaving an embarassed Shawn behind.

He closes the door, groaning in frustration. That was not what he had planned. This shouldn’t have happened.

His one night stand should have left hours ago but she was clingy and annoying and Shawn was too polite to kick her out. But it was time now.

The blonde girl is nibbling on the icing of the cupcake and Shawn picks her clothes up, holding them up.

“Hun, I really should work now, sorry but… you know…” he says, sounding annoyed.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, I see,” she says, sounding ice cold. “I’ll leave. I get it.”

He sighs, turning around so that she could get dressed.

“Bye, Shawn! And don’t ever call me again! Asshole!” she spits out, leaving his place and he slams the door shut. 

“Yeah, bye” he snorts angrily. Just to huff a frustrated “fuck!” afterwards, letting himself fall onto his couch, hitting a pillow in frustration.


He slams his hand against her door. But she won’t open. Of course not.

“Hey! I know you’re home! Come on! Please! Open the door!” he yells.

He rings the bell again. Over and over until it starts to get annoying.

She opens the door with an annoyed huff.

“What?” she hisses. “I’m working on a paper and I need to concentrate. If you would stop ringing my doorbell- that would be nice. Thanks,” and she proceeds to slam the door into his face.

He’s quick, sliding a huge foot into the doorframe.

“No! Wait!”

She rolls her eyes at him, opening the door again.

“Your plate! Here!” he awkwardly holds it up, handing it over to her. “Tasted so good, really! Thank you!”

“Mhm,” she breathes out in an annoyed way. She isn’t exactly mad at him. She’s mad at herself. For believing that she would actually have the tiniest bit of a chance with this guy who looked like a young god and lived the superstar lifestyle. Fucking blonde bombshells included.

“She isn’t - that wasn’t - that girl is not my girlfriend,” he blurts out.

“I don’t care, Shawn”

“Okay. Just wanted to make that clear. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he frowns, brows furrowed, curls messy and bopping a little.

“What do you want to hear? I don’t care about your love life or whatever… we don’t even know each other.”

She looks him in the eye, looking dead serious.

He licks his lip nervously and steps closer so that he towers over her, hands on either side of the doorframe. He looks down at her and gulps, tilting his head a little. 

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” he asks, feeling his cheeks get bright red as well as the top of his ears and he shifts his weight from one foot to another.

She tilts her chin up a bit.

“I have to see about that - I actually am busy right now.”

She sounds distant and he sighs.

“Come on… please… I’d love to get to know you.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip. And he wants to kiss her so bad. Part those pretty lips with his and slip his tongue into her mouth. 

He wants, wants, wants her.

“Really?” she says, barely audible.

She knew there were girls out there who would sell their souls for this. A date with Shawn Mendes.

He nods. Eyes dark.

“I’m not who you think I am. I don’t have a different girl every night,” he says quickly.

“I know what you’re thinking. That I’m some stupid teenage star who has a lot of hook ups and gets drunk in fancy bars but I’m not!” he adds. “I’m a regular dude. Really.”

She shrugs. “I don’t really think ‘bout you so you’re good.”

His face falls. “O-okay, right, yeah. I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

His shoulders hang a bit as well as his head and he wants to turn around but she holds him back. “No wait! Sorry, that was kinda rude. I’m just- I mean… coffee would be nice,” she breathes out and his face lights up again.

It frustrates her how freaking adorable he looks like that, smiling, looking like a lovesick puppy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s just coffee, right?”

“Just coffee,” he grins.

And he’s already so involved in this. He loves the chase. The thrill. And he can’t wait for what’s to come. 

Watch Me Babygirl [pt.5]

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [previous part] [next part] [pt.7] [pt.8] [pt.9] [pt.10] [pt.11]  [pt.12] [pt.13] [pt.14]

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

Warnings: slight language and some suggestive content


You walked sleepily towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water or maybe make some coffee, you’d make up your mind when you got there. You ran your hand through your hair, tousling it further.

Yawning, you stepped into the kitchen, the tile sending a shock through you, cold against your bare feet.

Keep reading

Was I a good Sister?

Characters - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester

Warning - Swearing, angst, character death

“Y/n! SHOOT NOW” I heard my father voice yell at me so I took my aim at the werewolf heart and tried to fire but I then realised that my gun was jammed! “oh no” I whispered

I saw the werewolf advance towards my elder brother and it threw him across , I watched in shock when his body slammed into the tree, the werewolf turned towards me but my gun was still jammed, I tried to shoot him but it wasn’t working just when then I heard a loud bang from behind me and I saw the werewolf fall to the ground, I turned around and saw my other elder brother Sam.

My father suddenly appeared in my view and ran towards Dean, me and Sam followed him, we dropped on our knees around where Dean lay unconscious. I tried to caress his forehead to inspect the damage when my father shoved my hand away.

“Don’t you dare touch him! ”,he snarled.

He then looked at Dean and tried to find if he had any serious injury on him. I looked at Sam but he was too focused on Dean. I then felt my cheek burn severely and loud resounding slap could be heard across the forest. I realised then that my father had hit me and he had me so hard that I was lying on the ground. I definitely had a bruise now.

“Dad, what the hell was that!? ” I heard Sam shout but my dad just glared at him and then at me, he shook his head in anger dropped down so he could swing dean’s arm around his shoulder.

Sam who was staring at his father in shock and anger immediately pushed his feelings aside and grabbed the other arm. They carried Dean this to the impala with me trailing behind him.

“y/n/n, go sit in the backseat and then we will lay him down” I nodded slowly and did as Sam said, the entire time I could feel my dad’s eye on me.

The ride to the isolated cabin was extremely quiet, I kept caressing Dean’s forehead and his hair and I kept on whispering “ I am sorry, I am so sorry ” and the tears trailed down my face.

Sam’s POV

I heard my little sister sniffling in the backseat and comforting my elder brother while saying sorry. It literally broke my heart to see her so upset. All I wanted to do was hug her tightly and tell her everything was going to be okay but if I say something now I know my father will be even more furious, I still cannot believe that he had hit her.

We reach the cabin and take Dean inside, we inspect him and wonder if any serious injury has taken place but he was just knocked out , I look over at my little sister and see that she was standing at door with an expression of fear plastered over her face. I smile at her but she doesn’t smile back.

After tending to Dean my father walks out of the room but not before he take Y/n’s arm in vicious grip, I spare my brother one look and walk out of the door.

Y/n’s POv

“what the hell were you doing?!
“I.. ”
“You could have gotten your brother killed you irresponsible idiot, why can’t you do anything properly?! ”
“Dad just listen to her”
“You stay out of this Sam, it does not concern you, we could have lost Dean because of her, you are the reason that your brother is in there….. Hurt”
“But dad.. ”
“JUST SHUT UP! I can’t even bare to look at you, my son is hurt because of you, you are an ungrateful, irresponsible and disgusting sister and I can’t even call you my daughter ”

That was it. This sentence did it for me, I was in pain ,not the physical kind the other one the one where your heart feels heavy and it hurts, I looked at my father with tears in my eyes but I would not let them drop.

“what the hell is wrong with you dad, why can’t you just listen to her, who says that to their own child?!”

My dad didn’t answer my brother he just walked out the door, Sam then removed his attention from John and then kneeled down so he could be of my height, he kept both his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.

“hey, listen to me sweetie don’t you dare even for a moment think that you are not a good sister, you are the most amazing, beautiful kind girl in the whole world and me and Dean love you so so so so much! ”

I looked him in the eye but I did not have the strength to reply so I just went back to the room where Dean was sleeping.

Sam’s POV

I watched my little sister walk back in the room, I was so shocked to hear my father say such horrible things to a 13 year old girl.
I went in the room and saw that she was covering Dean up with a blanket she then sat at the edge of the pushed his hair back and kissed him on the forehead.

My heart melted right there, how could my father say such horrible things to someone as sweet as her, I just couldn’t resist so I walked up behind her and put my arms around,she turn around and put her arms around my waist and her face towards me, I hugged her for a while but then I felt her shoulders shake I looked down and saw that she was sobbing her little heart out so I kneeled down again so I could be of her level and then hugged her tightly.

“I am sorry, I am so sorry”, she said this while hiccuping in between her sobs.

“I can’t lose you or Dean, I love you too much, I am sorry ” I knew I couldn’t say anything to comfort her so I picked her up and carried to my bed, we are used to sharing beds so I lay her down and I lay down beside her I put my arm around her and gently stroke her back soon she is fast asleep.

Y/n’s POV
I wake up the next morning to see that my Sam was sleeping beside me softly snoring , I looked on the other side and saw that Dean was also sleeping, so I got up and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. When I came back I saw that Dean was starting to wake up.

“Hey Dean, can you wake up? ”, he groaned but slowly opened his eyes
“hey, how are you feeling? ”
“Ummm…. Extremely sore”
“well you were thrown into a tree so that is to be expected I guess”

“Wait, what the hell happened? Are you okay? ”

“Yea bro, Everyone is good, you were the only one who was hurt”

I grabbed his medicine from the side table and then got him a glass of water.

“Here you go”
“Thanks sweetheart, you know you always take such good care of us”

My smile wavered a bit as I remembered last night’s events but I didn’t let the sadness or the immense guilt I was feeling come to my face. I then took both his hands pulled him in a sitting position.

“you can use the shower and have a good long bath”
“Thanks sweetie ” he said looking at me but then his smile turned into a frown and his hand went to touch my cheek.
“Did the werewolf get you or something? ”
“No why? ”
“You have bruise on your face”
I immediately felt extremely tense but then I just brushed it off and then walked to the living room. I saw John sitting over there with a pen and newspaper he looked towards me and said
“We are going on a hunt tonight.”
“What? What about Dean”
“Your will brother will not go obviously ”
“Dean is not going to agree to that ”
“Just be ready, there were not ONE but TWO werewolf but because of you we could not kill it last night so I suggest do as I ask”.

Later that night.
Dean had thrown a bitch fit and was here saying he was fine and will not be left at home. I had persuaded Sam to not tell Dean anything now, but we could do it after the hunt. I had rechecked my guns atleast 10 times to make sure it wasn’t jammed.

We walked through the jungle looking for the wolf, but it had seemed like hours had passes but we still had no clue where it was.

I still don’t know how I saw but I did, the werewolf was standing behind Dean, it had raised its claw to strike at my brother but I pushed my brother put of the way and felt it claws go deep in my stomach.

Dean’s PoV

I saw in astonishment as my little sister pushed me out of the way and the werewolf impaled her in stomach. I raised my gun and shot him straight in the heart, the werewolf fell down with a thud.

I looked down at my little sister who was bleeding from the stomach profusely, I picked her up and put her head in my lap, I then felt Sam and Dad running towards us.

“De it hurts a lot ” she cried
“Shhhh sweetheart, don’t worry everything is going to be okay you are going to live and we are going to talk about cutting Sammy’s hair in sleep and well pranking people and making them annoyed”

My sister shook her head and coughed and I saw the blood trickle out of her mouth so I wiped it away with my thumb
“ I am not going to make it, I know it” she croaked
“No y/n/n don’t you dare say that ”, Sam said in a crying voice “ you our baby sister we need to here, I love you so much”
“You heard Sam sweetheart, you can’t go we need you here:

But she ignored us and then asked in a croaked voice
“Was I a good sister? ”
And then both me and Sam just broke, both of us had tears running down our check so we each grabbed her hand I said

“oh yes sweetie, you are amazing sister and I love you so so so much” I then looked at my dad who was standing with an emotionless expression. Y/n looked at all of us “ I love you. ALL OF you I am going to miss you and I am glad I saved you dean”

Saying this my baby sister took her last breaths and then her head just fell sideways, he beautiful eyes were now not looking at anything.
So I put an arm around Sam and pulled him close and cradled my baby sister in my other arm. Oh god I will never see her smile, never kiss her while she was sleeping, never see her taking care of us, never take care of her she is just gone.

My father then came next to us and said “I am sorry baby girl please come back”

And at that time all we wanted was our little baby sister to come back but I knew she wouldn’t listen because she can’t, thinking about this we cried and screamed at the sky above us.

@winchesters-favorite-girl @u-snavi @dreamin-of-somewhere-else @blacktithe7

@straightasdeanwinchester @percussiongirl2017 @peachwizard @spnsisimagines @nickiwinchester97
Crawling Chaos - Part One - Void Stiles

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Void Stiles/Reader

Word Count: 3,496

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, Riddles

Notes: My first Void smut? My first Void smut. Not sure how well this will really go tbh because I don’t think I’m good at portraying Void. But let me know for sure if you do like it. This idea has been in my mind for a few weeks now, and all because I was listening to one certain anime opening at work called Koi wa Chaos no Shimobenari. It kind of gave me the idea for what to do with this, even though it has NOTHING to do with the song. Also, side note, i did use Google Translate for one small thing in here. Don’t blame me if it is wrong.

Part 2  Part 3

Keep reading

Breaking the Rules - part 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,205

Warnings: The usual + Angst

A/N: I’m spamming you guys with fics lol sorry. Also please, don’t let this series flop, I beg you! Alright, I’ll stop whining now. Enjoy :)

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

Originally posted by lowkeysebastianstan

You woke up from your nap and stretched your arms over your head since there was no one sitting next to you. The book Bucky asked ordered you to read was on the empty seat next to yours. With a heavy sigh, you picked it up, threw it in your travel bag and left.

Bucky was waiting for you on the platform, his foot tapping impatiently. The next couple of days were going to be the longest of your life.

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Night Owls--Harry Hook x Reader

Disclaimer-I don’ t own any of the Descendants characters all credit goes to the creators and producers of Disney Descendants 

Summary-You are a part of Uma’s crew, and you have a crush on Uma’s first mate, Harry Hook. One night, you get caught wondering in the deck by Harry himself.

Originally posted by unchxxrted

You take in the sight around you. The fresh salty air blowing through your hair as you breath it all in. Oh how you loved the sea. You hoped to one day be able to set sail on the open waves once again, but that was impossible, since the magical barrier prevented anyone from leaving this foul place. 

 It was dark outside and every one of the crew members were asleep. Being one of the lower ranked members of Captain Uma’s crew, you never really get a chance to enjoy the view of the ocean and horizon. You were mostly instructed to stay below deck, watching all the supplies to ensure nothing went missing. The only times you ever came above deck was when you went out to get a meal at Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop. Not much ever really happened on the Jolly Roger. The only reason you really stayed in this crew was because of Harry Hook. 

He was Uma’s first mate, son of Captain Hook, and the only person able to make you blush by just glancing at you. His tall, tanned figure towered above you and and the majority of the crew members. His clothes consisted of red and black, and many layers of leather, with a hat that shields his hair, though you occasionally saw him without it, revealing a thick mane of dark hair. Even his facial features were sharper than the hook he carried around to seem more like his father. 

But what always caught you’re attention the most were his eyes. He had blue eyes that were lighter than the sea, and stood out even more when he outlined them with black liner. They mostly held a stern look, but occasionally held affection and care. They showed his passion, his triumph, and his determination to make it known that Uma and her crew were not to be messed with. You admired that to most. 

But you never got to spend time with him. He was always commanding the others, carrying out Uma’s demands while you listened to his voice from down below. His Scottish accent was never hard to miss, and hard to resist. Even when the crew was at the chip shop, you sat on the far side of the counter while he was by Uma’s side, causing mischief with other members by shoving them and showing his dominance over them. He did that to the entire crew. 

Well, everyone except Uma. 

And you. 

Too busy in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the scuffle of boots along the deck. With a clearing of his throats you turned your head, and your breath hitched. 

There, before you in all his glory, was Harry himself. He was without his coat or hat, only his leather pants and belt clung loosely on his waist, his torn undershirt over his chest. His hair was uncovered, all tangled and rearranged, from tossing and turning in his sleep you assumed. He smirked a little, and slowly walked towards you. 

“Well, well, well,” he smiled, his stare never leaving your own. “What do we have here? A little night owl hovering about?” 

His voice seemed playful, but then again, he always used a playful tone when he knew he had the upper hand. You gulped, not wanting to respond. “Aw, why so quiet, catfish caught yer tongue?” 

You remained silent, which only made him chuckle. He came closer, making you pull away. You knew you were gonna be in trouble, since you weren’t supposed to be up and about in the middle of the night. It was one of Uma’s rules. 

He continued to snicker, watching you tremble under his gaze. You shifted your eyes to the ground, catching the glare of his hook on one of his belt loops. You began to pant. 

“I-I’m sorry, H-Harry,” you whispered, still shaking. 

“Ah she speaks!” He mocked, taking his right hand to lift your chin. “What are ye doing wondering around late at night. Uma would make ye fish bate if she found out.” 

You took a deep breath. “I-I don’t know, couldn’t sleep I guess.” He didn’t respond. For awhile he looked at you, as if he was trying to remind himself where he had seen you. Then, he remembered. “You work below deck, don’t ya?” You nodded the best you can, since his finger still held your chin up. He smiled a bit, but not in a evil way. “Uh huh, I’ve seen you around, you talk with that Gary fella, right?” 

Gary was your friend, though he wanted to be more. You always rejected him, but continued to talk to him nonetheless, since you didn’t really know anyone else. 

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered. 

“Poor fella, I’ve seen his attempts, yet ye never give him the light of day.” He snickered again. “What’s your name, little owl?” 

“Y-Y/N.” 

He kept looking at you, watching as your chest rose and fell at a steady pace. Then he spoke again. “So tell me, Y/N. Why don’t ya give the lad a chance, aye?” 

You thought about it for a moment and said, “He isn’t my type.” Your courage began to grow slightly as the lack of space between the two of you increased by the minute. 

His hand move from your chin to rest it on the post that pinned you, just to the left side of your head. His toned biceps came to view as he barely whispered, “And what, my little owl, is your type?” 

You couldn’t help the shiver as his breath fanned over your lips. You didn’t know what to do, what to say. Here you were, pinned to the mast post, in the middle of the night, by the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, who is asking you what your type was. You so desperately wanted to tell him that the only person to make your heart soar and butterflies to erupt was the one standing in front of you, but you couldn’t. You froze. 

Harry waited for your answer, but then he spoke up, “Well, do you know what my type is?” He smiled, leaning closer to you. You shook your head. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back, smirking at your obvious heavy breaths. 

“My type,” he said barely above a whisper, “is a shy, timid girl, one no one really likes to point out.” You were confused as you why he was telling you this, but let him go on anyway. He pushed back a piece of hair behind your ear with left hand, letting it gently stroke your cheek as he continued. 

“My type is a girl who tries to steal glances of me, thinking I can’t see her, when I actually catch her every time, trying to do the same thing.” His hand continued down, stroking your jaw and collar bone, down your shoulder and arm until he grasped your right hand. He looked down at your two hands and smiled. 

“My type is the one who doesn’t fight for my affection, the one who only need to laugh to make my head spin.” He spoke, lifting your hand ever so carefully, sensing your ease as your shakiness subsided. He looked straight into your eyes, bringing your hand closer to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto it, and never breaking eye contact, not before he spoke, with a voice barely audible, “My type is you, Y/N.” 

His words ran a shiver up your spine, your eyes meeting his light ones. You wanted to tell him you felt the same way, but your heart was racing at his confession. His smile grew at your reaction, evolving in to a full on grin. He took this moment to admire you. 

Your long H/C hair circling your face as the wind blew it and how the moonlight reflected the glow in your E/C eyes. His thumb gently touched your bottom lip, which were oh so tempting. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He leaned in and captured his lips with yours, caressing both your cheeks as he did. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your eyes were wide, as you didn’t know what to do at first, until you kissed him back. Once he felt you giving into him, he pulled you closer by your waist, allowing your right hand to stroke up his arm. He went to deepen the kiss, biting your bottom lip and giggling when you let out a little squeal. He picked you by your thighs, pushing you harder against the post, never letting the kiss end. You let out a gasp as you felt his lips leave yours, only to latch onto your neck, and up to the sensitive skin by your ear, nibbling it ever so slightly. Your fingers ran through his hair, earning a groan from him as you did so. He soon returned to your lips, picking the pace back up. 

Eventually, you pushed against him, your breaths heavy, leaving your hands to rest against his chest. He looked up at you, a cocky smile on his face. 

“So, I guess I’m yer type then, aye?”

What Would You Want?

Request: “hi i was wondering if you could do a fluffy sirius x reader where they’re just cuddling and talking about their future together (like having kids, getting married) idk ah i really love your writing btw !!”

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 1034

Warnings: None

Originally posted by admireforever


It was very late on a Monday night. Most were sound asleep, but the toll that had taken its place on all the exhausted students due to the most dreaded day of the week didn’t seem to affect you and Sirius. Instead, you were lying on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, cuddling by the fire with a pleasant type of lethargy. You both kept saying how it was time to go up to your actual beds, since you both had the same early potions class tomorrow morning, but the urgency had seeped from your bones, being replaced by a thick laziness that weighed you down blissfully. The more you fought against it, the heavier it got. Eventually, you had simply accepted that you would probably talk into the early hours of the morning, only falling into sleep when you had no more words to say. Sirius’ arms were the most peaceful place in the world, it was no wonder why you had no desire to leave your spot.

“What would you have our wedding be like?” He asked after a long comfortable silence, his nose touching yours as he spoke.

“Our wedding?” You yawned. “Who said I’d marry you?”

Sirius let out a soft chuckle, his eyelids heavy.

“I know you’ll say yes when the day comes. You can never resist me.”

“And if I say no?”

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Potion No. 9

pairing: daveed x reader

requests: could you do Daveed X younger reader, where reader is like 18-20 and they start dating and the reader’s parents get really weirded out over the age difference?

summary: it’s time for daveed to meet reader’s parents. that’s it that’s really all i’ve got.

warnings: swearing, smut, semi-public/public sex, D/s, daddy kink, light bondage, praise kink

word count: 4,320

a/n: title is part of title of a sandra bullock movie but i used it as lyrics from lotus flower bomb by wale, which i recommend u start to play during the sexy time at the end ok. i know it’s barely still valentine’s day but I WROTE THIS all in one day it’s been a wild ride. i wanted to get this up ASAP but i’m messy and wanted to write one more sex scene i’m sorry buds but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!!!!!!!


“Are you ready, babe?” You peer into the mirror, adjusting the clasp on your necklace. The small heart-shaped garnet glints in the light and your heart flutters, remembering Daveed gifting it to you just this morning.

“Just a second,” he shouts from his bedroom. “I can’t get this fucking tie on straight!”

You snicker, tucking your lipstick into your small clutch. “Come out here and I’ll do it for you.”

Daveed grunts and shuffles out into the living room with his suit jacket draped over one arm and a sour look on his face.

“Why are you pouting?” You ask, fingers deftly untying the crooked knot and starting over again.

“I’m too old to not know how to tie my own tie,” he huffs, shoving one hand into the pockets of his dress pants.

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Stress Reliever Part One-Ashton Irwin Smut

Could you do an Ashton smut where you baby sit his kids because he’s so stressed? Business man and wife left him. So of course he needs a stress reliever. And that’s (y/n). She’s a bad bitch😉👏🏻

Hey I’m so sorry this has taken me months to write. I’ve been super busy with school and I’ve honestly also been procrastinating. I hope this is what you were looking for and thanks so much for being my first request.

And please remember that I am open for requests if you have any, just don’t expect them to come out right away.

MASTERLIST

Part Two 


You couldn’t resist the adorable five year old child in front of you. The way her small lips would turn into a pout and her head would tilt slightly to the left made it practically impossible to say no to another serving of ice cream. You were weak, and she knew it too.

She clapped her hands and beamed up at you. Despite the pit in your stomach telling you not to give the adorable devil another serving, you reluctantly handed her another bowl, slightly smaller than the last, filled with chocolate ice cream.

As she scarfed down her second dessert, you checked your phone to see if her father, Ashton had texted you. You had immediately volunteered to babysit his daughter after his job started picking up it’s pace.

He was childhood friends with your older brother so when he complained to your brother about needing a part-time nanny, you actually raised your hand like a school girl. Not only did you love spending time with Ellie, you also needed money for food, being a junior in college.

Although Ashton had a beautiful child and a decent job, you always felt bad for him because he had to grow up faster than anyone you knew. Getting a girl pregnant at age eighteen takes a toll on people. Especially when the girl you impregnate leaves you with a two week year-old baby because she “couldn’t handle being responsible for another human being.”

“I’m tired,” Ellie whined, reaching her hands up to rub her eyes. You quickly snapped out of your daze and picked her up.

“Bed time story?” you asked the sleepy toddler. She nodded quickly which made you smile at her eagerness.

Just as her eyes closed you let out a sigh and had just started cleaning up the mess she had made the past few hours when you heard the front door close from within the apartment.

You walked out into the living room to see Ashton looking down at the bills strewn across the kitchen table. “Hey Ash, I just put her to bed.”

A light smile grazed his lips. “Thanks, (Y/n).”

With the small smile on his face you recalled just how attractive he was. His sandy brown hair was long, but still a reasonable length and his light green eyes were always warm. You hadn’t told anyone this, except for your best friend back in high school, but you had always found him attractive.

“Do you want to stay and watch a bit of TV for a little but because I technically said I wouldn’t be home for another thirty minutes. O-or if you have to go that’s fine too,” his face grew slightly red.

You laughed, “Yeah sure. How was work?” you asked, moving to sit crisscross on his couch. 

He sat down close to you and sighed, “Actually insane. I feel like I’m in high school all over again. Whatever papers that they give me to complete, they just seem to go unused. It’s like the busy work Mr. Greene would give us. Did you have Mr. Greene?”

You nodded as he grabbed the remote for the television. “Of course. I don’t remember anything from his class because his voice would just put me to sleep,” you both laughed.

“Exactly. That’s like every meeting that I am forced to go to. My boss is practically Mr. Greene and I can never focus because his voice makes me want to fall asleep.”

Deciding to be bold, you placed your hand on his knee and rubbed it soothingly, “Why don’t you just quit? You’re obviously not enjoying it.”

He didn’t seem fazed so you moved your hand up a little further, “Because I need the money. It’s the best job that offers no college experience required.”

Your hand was now slowly caressing his mid-thigh over the pants to his suit. “W-what are you doing?” he asked suddenly, looking down at your hand.

You shrugged and brought your hand up a little higher, “You just seem so stressed and I thought I could maybe help you a little.”

His breath got caught in his throat, “Y-yeah?”

Slowly nodding, you brought you hand on his quickly growing bulge. “Yeah.”

With just the slightest of touches, he quickly inhaled and closed his eyes.

Because he wasn’t denying you, you applied pressure to the tent in his pants which made him groan. 

Slowly, you reached for his zipper and tugged it down achingly slow. “Is this okay?” you asked.

“Yes, fuck, yeah,” he whimpered when you palmed him over his boxers.

A small smile stretched across your face as you crawled off of the couch and lowered yourself between his legs.

He visibly gulped, “W-what about your brother?”

While you pulled down his boxers you kept eye contact with him and shrugged, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

When his almost fully-erect member was released from its confines, he let out a long breath of air. Without hesitation, you gripped him and slowly tugged upward until he was a moaning mess. “I should come home stressed more often,” he laughed, shakily.

You bit your lip and looked back up at him to see he was staring down at you with hooded eyes. Boldly, you licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock which caused his eyes to roll back. “Oh shit. Baby, your tongue feels so good,” he whimpered.

Just the sight of him, hair matted, crisp, white shirt with only a few buttons still buttoned, made you wet.

You latched your lips around his tip and wasted no time before sinking your head all the way down his length. He wasn’t the longest you had ever had, but he was definitely the thickest.

His mouth widened considerably at the sight of his member down your throat. “You’re so hot when you suck my cock.”

You moaned at his words, the awkward Ashton now completely gone. The vibrations from your moan caused him to buck his hips. When your throat clenched around him he let out an exasperated grunt.

“I’m so close, fuck!” he moaned when he hit the back of your throat again. “I want to be inside you. Please,” he begged, tugging on your hair to pull you up.

“Are you sure?” you asked, surprised that he wanted more than just a blowjob. He nodded frantically and you stood up and walked towards his room. It took him a second to understand what your were doing, but he was soon on your heels.

Once you and Ashton entered his room, you hastily discarded your shirt and leggings. “Lie down,” you demanded.

He obeyed immediately and climbed onto his bed, only wearing his shirt. Your legs quivered at the sight of his member sticking straight up.

When he noticed you looking, a cocky smile spread across his face. “Enjoying the view?”

You rolled your eyes and tugged down your underwear, “Shut up, Irwin.”

His eyes widened when you moved to straddle him, “What’s wrong? Do you not want to?”

His head shook quickly, “No, I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been intimate with anyone since…” he trailed off.

“Since Ellie came?” He nodded. You leaned down and kissed his lips slowly. “Want me to be slow?”

“Fuck no,” he whined before lining up with your entrance so you could sink down.

Your mouth widened at his width. “Ash,” you moaned. You felt him sit up and lean against the bed frame.

“You feel so good, (Y/n),” he whispered, moving his hands to unbuckle your bra. He hummed when your boobs spilled out of their confines.

Slowly, you raised from his shaft and then quickly sunk back down. “Oh my god,” Ashton whimpered.

You started to grind on his cock, earning more moans from the two of you combined until he forcefully gripped your hips and continuously pulled you down on him.

“Ashton!” you yelled, forgetting about the five year-old not too far away.

He could hardly form a coherent sentence and mostly released loud moans and groans of pleasure.

“You’re so thick, Ash.”

He hummed at the feeling of your chests pressed together. “You’re so fucking tight, Jesus.”

“Are you close?” he asked, bringing a hand down to rub figure eights against your clit.

You clenched around him and nodded, “Yes.”

“I could fuck you all day,” he said, bringing his other hand to slap your ass.

Your mouth dropped as that sent you over the edge. You screamed his name repeatedly as the knot inside your stomach burst.

He continued to move your hips until he came in four, hot spurts.

When you had both settled down, he stopped your motion and rested his head in the crook of your neck, placing a few kisses in his wake.

“What does this mean?” you asked him, feeling a little guilty for fucking up your friendship because you knew that after the sex you had just had, you wouldn’t want to remain just friends.

He moved his head to look you in the eyes, “What do you want this to mean?” he asked.

You thought for a minute before responding, “I want this to not be a one-time thing.”

He smiled, “Thank god, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know what to tell your brother when he comes over in a couple minutes to see his baby sister naked, and still on my cock.”


Would ya’ll possibly want a part two or nah?

“Woman”

requested // no

requests are open // request here

TW // Smut, profanity 

I hope you can see the shape that I’m in when he’s touching your skin

Jealousy. It’s in his veins. It’s selfish, he knows, but he doesn’t want to see her with anyone other than him. They’re just dancing, it should be innocent, but she’s staring at him. She’s staring at him with that gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her blood red lips, she knows what she’s doing to him and she’s enjoying it. He craves her. her touch being the only thing that could cool his burning skin right now, the kind of touch that breaks voids of silence, but she’s not touching him she’s touching that stranger. Her pretty hands touching a man who doesn’t even know her name, a man who asked her to dance whilst Harry was standing right there. He’s got the image of her over the shoulder smile she sent him as she walk away with a man that wasn’t him. She can see he’s mad, whether it’s at her or the guy touching her she doesn’t know but she can see his hand gripping his drink as hard as he grips her neck and it makes her ache…

Tempted, you know

Temptation. The cruellest of all mistresses. He’d ruin her, he wants to ruin her. He wants to hurt her so good she bites the inside of her cheek to suppress her whimpers when she thinks of him. He wants to do everything that man who’s got his hands on her could never do because he doesn’t know her body the way Harry does. It’s driving him insane, she’s driving him insane and the longer she stares at him, the more she bites that goddamn lip of hers, the more he can’t resist the temptation of watching her, watching him. If she could stop being so fucking pretty; he could stop losing himself over her. He would never make a scene, that wasn’t him, he doesn’t need to. He knows what she wants and he’s more than happy to oblige. She wants the sparks between them to leave carpet burns on her knees, she wants him to confess his sins with his tongue in the church beneath her skirt, she wants him to destroy her and fuck he wants that too. When the song ends, that mans hands drop from her waist and she saunters over to him with a sway in her hips and that smirk still playing on her lips. It’s got his arm reaching towards her and his hand in her hair, pulling it back as he whispers “you’re going to regret that” into her ear in that voice that leaves her breathless. She doesn’t say anything; she’s too focused on how his rough hand is so gentle on the small of her back as he leads her outside and into the back of a taxi.

You flower, you feast

She’s the prettiest sin he’s ever touched. Her black dress a mess on the floor by the door; discarded so he can leave fingerprint bruises on her skin. She’s gasping and they’re not even at the bedroom yet but when they get there, oh god when they get there, he’s everywhere all at once and she’s overwhelmed. She’s so soft and he’s going to break her. He’s got her under his thumb and she’s squirming, she’s writhing, every move he makes is so intense and she can’t breathe. She blossoms at his touch, his touch, the only one who should be touching her like this; at all. His fingers are in her and it’s just not enough. She needs him, all of him, whimpers of “please” and “need you” being all she can get out has him falling apart. She’s his weakness and that desperate look in her eyes is going to kill him.

Wo-woman

Every essence of him is in her, his body is all electricity when he’s one with her. His hands are all over her, like leaving any part of her skin untouched would be a crime punishable by death, she’s red with hand prints and bite marks and she’s never loved her body more. She’s his and now no one would be able to ignore that, no unnamed man at a bar had anything on Harry. No man could make her feel like he does, she’s ruined for anyone else and he loves it. Her back is arched and his lips are between her collarbones, one of her hands in his hair and the other over her mouth and she’s there. His encouraging whispers in her ear of “good girl” and “that’s it baby” aren’t helping her come down from this state of bliss. She’s silent, too in awe of this feeling to make a sound, it’s never quite felt like this before and he can tell because she’s so impossibly tight. He’s falling apart, her mouth-open-eyes-squeezed-shut face pushing him so far off the edge he’s in disbelief. He’s gripping at her, almost as though he thinks she’ll disappear, he’s got his head buried in the crook of her neck and he’s groaning. His husky voice sounding more like a growl as he loses himself inside of her and fuck it’s music to her ears. When he’s done he collapses, still inside of her, face still in the crook of her neck and they’re quiet. The aftermath to their euphoria being comfortable silence. Him on top of a body so beautiful to him, painted in marks from him.

Woman 

Devil Princess

Draco x female reader 

Warning : SMUT SMUT

guys this is my first ever smut, so sorry if i mucked up or its abit rocky, im up for A LOT OF requests bc I rarely get any so if u have ideas, don’t be shy. if you see a mistake, tell me and im more than happy to correct it. 

Just a breif understanding: you and draco are in a relationship, and you two have been a thing for a while now. Its christmas break, and he went back to Malfoy Manor to see his parents and you stayed at Hogwarts, as ur parents lived abroad, and then something unexpected happens… 

(H) - your house, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor

Originally posted by draco-malfoys-wife

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Pleasant Surprises

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Tags: lots of kissing, fingering, smut, public sex

Words: 2538

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long ):

Originally posted by zest-wincest

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How does each boyo react to pleasuring their partner, using their mouth/hands?

@nifwrites has inspired me so much through this new smut journey I’m on!! Thank you so much to them, and a few other tumblrs who I will tag momentarily.

Noct- Of course he enjoys when his s/o feels good. Genuinely, he does! He’ll ease you out of whatever underwear you have on (after a passionate make out session). But before he strips you down, he’ll hold you , almost palming your sex using his thumb to apply pressure over your clit. He enjoys feeling your warmth through your underwear.

Moving your underwear down your legs and dipping a finger inside you, Noct goes almost entirely by feel. One at a time at first, then two at a time. Who cares what everything looks like- it’s the feeling that matters. Seems to make sense just fine to him, and work out excellently for you. He doesn’t need to see what he’s doing to know it feels good. Call it a prince’s intuition.

Supporting himself on one arm, and using the other to pulse his fingers inside you, he begins to pick up a treacherously slow and steady rhythm - simply to watch you writhe underneath him.

The thing about Noct is, as giving as he truly believes he is, the selfless act is never 100%…well, selfless.
Knowing he’s the reason for a kind of bliss so closely a relative of agony, and that you’re quite literally at the mercy of his hands lights a dangerous fire in him, causing him to pump faster with his fingers. If the mood is right, you swear he sometimes goes into a kind of trance. Not a strong one, but a trance nonetheless. Like he’s feeding off your energy, or you his. Or even a sharing of both- you’ve never been exactly sure.

“You’re close,” he’ll say. As more of a statement than a question. He’s right. You are.

He can feel your walls tightening around his fingers with every stroke.

Your chest is heaving, and for some reason his is too. His face is just inches from yours now. You can’t help but tilt your head back and moan. His fingers pumping quicker as If he was chasing his own release, and not yours.

As his breathing grows louder in your ear you feel heat welling up within you, moments away from coming undone.

He lifts his chest up so that you’re in full view, revealing his simmering hot fuchsia eyes. “Come – now” he says. And as if he spoke it into existence, you come undone around his palm as he massages your clit through your orgasm, and you both cry out. His simmering eyes flicker out as he drops his head to your shoulders, the both of you tightly holding the other as the steadiness of your breath returns.

Gladio-
Gladio is definitely a surveyor, which makes you feel embarrassed at times. Especially with the essence of how much you want him dripping from your core onto the mattress. Most guys don’t care to look, but Gladio- he wants to know every part of his girl.

He further parts your thighs and you brace yourself for him to enter you. When he doesn’t, you lift your head to see what he’s doing.

You catch him kneeling at your entrance lazily stroking himself, fixating on your dripping heat. “Babe-”
“You’re beautiful” he cuts you off. “You know that? Anybody ever tell you that?” He says, continuing to stroke himself, and run himself along your folds, probing your entrance, and just barely dipping himself in the pearlescent liquid beginning to pool towards the bottom of your sex.

You’re embarrassed now, and attempt to close your legs. Gladio leans over you, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, “No,” he says, shaking his head a small frown appearing across his lips, “apparently not. Let me look at my baby girl” he pleads with you, his amber eyes looking more earnest than they ever have, his cock still throbbing.

This is the most erotic thing you think you’ve ever experienced. He stretches your folds to further expose your sensitive budding pearl, and you feel…oddly sexual being on display for him like this. What he’s doing..it feels good. He holds you there, unable to resist bringing his mouth down to your sex, rolling the tip of his tongue over your clit in slow steady circles. And so would the night continue until he mercifully brings you to climax.

Prompto-
Prompto loves your scent. There’s no other way to put it than the fact that he loves your smell. His tactic is to get you dripping wet. Then and only then, once your underwear is soaked through, will he grant you the relief of taking it off. But not before he burries his face between your thighs and runs his nose up and down your heat, taking in two or three large breaths through his nose.

The Prompto that emerges is not the one who submerged his face between your thighs. He’s resurfaced incomprehensibly drunk on your scent. His blue eyes have become searing and half lidded, lips parted, his mouth hanging slightly open. Your stomach churns in anticipation. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde- this Prompto is unpredictable.

Hungry, carnivorous even, he looks at you practically radiating heat. “Hey, flip on all fours,” he says. It’s almost shocking when the voice that comes out of him is still his. Cheery and sweet as ever, yet quivering. But not with uncertainty. Quivering with what you could only describe as…restraint.

You oblige, and turn on all fours facing the headboard, unsure exactly where this was going, half expecting him to nail you from behind. Instead, he slides his body underneath you, his face stopping at your heat, and pulls your hips down so that your folds and his mouth are a perfect match.

This new angle is making a hell of a difference. He cups your ass, urging you to buck your hips as he sucks on your clit, and rocks you in tandem with his rhythm.

Devouring you from underneath, his moans ring out in pleasure as he continues. It’s not long before your arms give out as you climax and he slides up from under you just in time to catch you with open arms as you fall onto his chest.

A semblance of the Prom you know returns to his features in satisfaction, as he holds you while you both drift to sleep.


WHEW *fans self* OK IGGY after the break! Christttt

Little Witch (Part 3)

Pairings: Peter x reader

Word count: 3 194

Summary: The reader is raised by Hydra but manages to escape after they kill her parents. She is emotionally unstable and can’t control her powers. The Avengers rescue her and give her everything she missed form life and wanted to feel. But would her new found love be enough to extinguish her desire for revenge? What would be the side she would choose to rely on? Will she be ready to face the real her?

A/N: I am so happy how this turned out out to be. Flashback is in Italics:) I hope you like it an please, i am begging you, let me know what you think about the story ♥ Enjoy (Sorry for the mistakes) 

Part 1 // Part 2

Originally posted by misshollander1

Peter was sitting next to the closed door waiting for the mysterious girl to get clean. He had showed her his room because he had a personal bathroom and was the only option he had. He couldn’t get her face when he told her which this room was to out of his mind.

‘Fantastic, she thinks I am a fool now.’ the boy was deep in his thoughts. The usual feeling of nervousness when you think you had messed up in front of a person you wanted to impress was now taken over him. He surely had showed Tony something he didn’t want to with his behavior or the way he was looking at her, but how could he resist? He was amazed not that much from her appearance but the fact she wasn’t a cry-baby but a tough little…witch. He longed for the moment to understand more about her character, what she liked, what her dreams are now and so on without knowing why. Maybe the mysteriousness in her personality was the only thing responsible for this.

‘Come to Earth, Peter! You just met her, you can’t be head over heels about a girl you don’t even know!’

As the boy was trying to convenience himself to stop the unstoppable desires of the soul, a noise came from the bathroom. With his blurred senses he entered the room with fuss thinking about the worse that could have happened.

“Oh my god, Peter! Don’t you know how to knock?!”, the girl screamed as she tried to cover her with the towel. Peter turned around and covered his eyes “You are lucky I am wearing a bra and underwear. I didn’t think you are so pervert and creepy.”

“What, no! I-I just heard something falling. I thought you have hurt yourself, I didn’t want to- bother you or see you naked.”

‘Great! Amazing! If she didn’t think I was a fool, now she definitely does!’

“You already saw what you saw…there’s no need to hide and act innocent.”, (Y/n) retorted. Unfortunately, Peter was thrown in a serious dilemma.

‘If I turn around, this may show her I want to scan her half-naked body…but if I don’t, she will think I am acting just to impress her. What the hell am I supposed to do!?’

As every man, he had to understand the girl’s mind faster and come up with a decision. In his opinion, turning around was the better option, so he did so. As he removed his hand from his face he got stunned. (Y/n) was wearing a bra and jeans given to her from Wanda but the body wasn’t what caught his attention. It was her back.  

“Beautiful, don’t you think?” bitterness and sarcasm was read in her response. Her bare back was marked with a stranger and macabre scar. The letter ‘X’ was carved deep in her skin.

“I-I am sorry, staring at it wasn’t my intention.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Peter. I am not ashamed of it, I don’t wanna hide it.”

“Why do you have it?”, the boy came back to the reality as the girl put a t-shirt on and hide the mark.

“I got it from Hydra. Like I said I was tortured.”, Peter wasn’t able to find any word to say something. He was amazed and angry at the same time by what had been done to this girl at her young age, “Let’s go to the others and finish this.”

“If you are not okay with explaining wha-”

“Wanda and Bruce told me about what they’ve been trough. I know others weren’t in paradise either. Maybe when I tell somebody what exactly happen, it won’t be that hard to bear it on my shoulders. ”

“Here you are, we thought something happened between you two.”, Stark smirked at the teenagers as they entered in the living room. He had a drink in his hand while standing near the huge glass wall.

“Actually, it did happened. Peter stormed into the bathroom as I was changing.”, the girl had crossed her hands in front of her so tried to make a pissed expression.

“That’s not how you try to win the girl, Peter!”, Stark exclaimed.

“What were you expecting from him? He is 24/7 with you, of course he will act like you.”, Nat smiled as she waved at the girl letting her know she can feel home here.

“I-It…I thought she had hurt herself, okay?”, it caused the whole group to laugh, especially when Peter got as red as a tomato.

(Y/N) sat down between Wanda and Nat. She ran a hand through her hair showing her worry. Wanda put a hand on her shoulder saying that it will relieve her and promised that she would feel better. They all waited in silence. (Y/N) didn’t wanted to start mainly because she didn’t know from when to or how. Steve managed to spot it.

“Well (Y/N) if Peter hasn’t scared you and you haven’t change your mind yet, we would like to know how you got possessed by Hydra, and if there are other people like you who we can save.”

The girl took a deep breath and began.

“It all started ten year ago. I don’t remember the date but I all the events after are still remained in my brain. We went on a holiday in Russia to spend New Year…”

1st January, 2007. Moscow, Russia.

The sequential cold day in the enormous and scary Russia. A war had been waged since last year but that didn’t stop the people from celebrating New Year, more precisely the new beginning, the time that would give them hope, strength, and maybe the time when the bloodshed would be stopped.

The clock had gone past 00:00 an hour ago. The people were still roaming through the centre of the capital city too excited to feel fatigue. There were young Russians enjoying the holiday, soldiers protecting the nation, families with their little children playing the snow, old people smiling as seeing their heirs happy. Nobody expected that this happiness will soon be ruined by a woman screaming.

A seven-year-old girl, named (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was holding her mother’s and father’s hands while admiring the splendor view of Moscow. She was coming from a country where snow wasn’t accumulating in such huge heaps like here. She wanted to throw herself into those cold clouds and play.

“Mummy, mummy!”, the girl pulled her mother’s coat getting her attention, “Can I play in the snow?”, the lady kneeled down and smiled at her little girl.

“Of course you can, but after that we will have to go back. And please, be careful.”

The little girl nodded in excitement and ran towards the other kids to play with. The family sat in a bench looking at their precious angel. She was far away but they never left an eye from her.

“Look how happy she is.”, they both were contemplating. The man took his wife’s hand and kissed it causing them both to look at each other for a moment. And that was their mistakes.

“Mummy!”, a shouting kid made them to both look away from each other. All the mother saw was her child token from a man in back and a van that seconds later got away. The woman couldn’t figure out what was happening in the first seconds.

“No! My child! They took my child! No! Save her!”, the lady began screaming. Everything went dead for a moment. The people were staring shocked at the screaming and crying mother. She ran straight to the soldiers and tried to shake one of them. Nobody did anything. The soldiers played as though nothing had happened. The mother was dying from the inside. Her kid was gone. She fell on the ground, her agony splitting the happy atmosphere. Her heart was slowly and painfully breaking, sticking it’s sharp ends in her chest not letting her take a breath.

That night was the last time (Y/N) saw her mummy and daddy. After being put in the van she was anesthetized so no one would hear her screams and weep. The girl woke in an unfamiliar room. She didn’t want to eat. All she desired for was seeing her parents again. But it’s different with kids. They don’t have the strength to do such things till the end. After days she gave up and attacked her lunch like a lion which hadn’t eaten in weeks. This time was the first she actually left the room she woke up into. A young lady had showed her the playground where she met other kids like her.

“Where is mummy?”, the little girl asked.

“She will come sweetheart, only if you do what we tell you.”, the lady gave her a bright smile causing the girl to believe her. The next few months she did what she was told but her mother wasn’t coming.

5th June, 2011.

(Y/N) didn’t believe anymore to the lies that were told to her. She knew her mother was gone, her father no more to be seen. Although she was only eleven, somehow she knew this place was probably her grave.

Since three years the men in white, how she decided to call them, had started doing some experiments with her. At first she didn’t know why and wasn’t resisting due to believing that this was the only chance to see her mummy and daddy again. Years later she still didn’t resist. There was no point.

Her schedule was hooked up in her room. 7am – breakfast, 7:30 – studying session (Maths, Russian, History); 13:00 – lunch, 13:30 – time to understand about your physical and psychological condition (that was how they called all the experiments they did to her, all the pain she felt and the indifferent from the doctors); 19:30 – dinner.

Each day was the same. The only different things were the subject they were teaching. This way of living ended on this day.

This time the experiments were two hour long and the other time was occupied with trainings. The remained children were getting a 4-hour long infernal torture. They began with learning how to use cold weapons. The first lessons were on dummies but the next week they began practicing on each other. Nobody wanted to hurt the friend opposite them. Some of the kids refused and got punished in front of all. They had to see that not obeying leaded to pain, not doing you best was leaded to torture. Since then (Y/n) was coming to her room all in blood, bruises and a hell pain that troubled her movements in the next day. Every night she was finding a first aid kid which she used to heal the wounds. Nobody was showing the kids how to use them, they had to learn on they own. Three kids died because of losing too much blood, from exhaust, from going nuts. Even those events didn’t stop Hydra with her experiments on their ‘rabbits’.

17th October, 2014

“Everything you’ve gone through was to get you ready for the cruel world out there, for the humanity. You are the one that would change the story. You will lead the planet to a better place and will do it with the cost of your life. Wars will be won by you and your names would be taught in the books.”, a tall beautiful woman was standing in front of the 14-year-old boys and girls who were formed in a perfect position. They looked willowier that the Russian army (Y/N) had seen 7 year ago. They were more dangerous with their killing skills. They were the perfect built weapon for Hydra’s plans.

“All the tasks more of you managed to survive had to unlock your powers which we gave you when you came. Everyone has different skills and now you should show us what you are capable of!”, after a cold smile the lady went away. They were in the usual training hall that was transuded with the blood of innocent kids who had lost their self. There was a hidden room where the people were looking at them, to see how they cooperated, how better they were becoming.

In the first day of this new training almost all of them found their power. One was able to get invisible, another one had the strength to break through a wall with his bare hands. Only (Y/N) was standing there not knowing what she can do. She tried several different positions but nothing. Once she got panicked she knew the result would be zero.

Two days had passed and (Y/N) was at the same conditional – no powers found. As she was putting all her efforts in understanding her abilities three soldiers stormed into the room. Two of them caught the girl by her hands and a voice filled the room.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) why aren’t you training?”, the words were spoken slowly and cold. They sent shivers down her spine and she stuttered an answer.

“I-I am doing my best, mister. I-I just don’t think I have powers.”

“Bullshits! You are considered as a rebel Ms. (Y/L/N) and I am sure you know what we do to them.”

“No, no, no!”, the girl began protesting, she kicked them all down in seconds and tried to run but other five soldiers came. She was doing well, observing, kicking, showing no mercy as she was thoughts until one of them punched her in the head. For a moment she lost balance. They took her hands and chained her. One of the soldiers kicked her in the ankles so she wouldn’t be able to stand. Her body weight had to be hold only by her hands. She took a breath and looked up seeing the red symbol of the organization. As soon as she did so, she felt an indescribable anguish in her back. The sound of a whiplash tearing a skill echoed through the room. Her so called friends were looking trying to show no sorrow or empathy.

Ten whiplashing later the familiar voice spoke again.

“I hope you learnt your lesson. If not, the whiplashes will increase with each disobey from you side.”

What was said had been done. The torture had increased and (Y/N) had been whiplashed in front of everyone.

“She is going to die!”, a woman spoke in the hidden room as she and some others people were watching ‘the show’.

“No, she won’t!”, said the leader – a tall woman with short brown hair.

“But it doesn’t change anything. We observed her. She definitely shows no signs of anything supernatural in her.”

“Why the others have and she doesn’t?!”, screamed the leader.

“Her powers are probably connected with her emotions. We raised those kids teaching them to hide, to forget about having feelings. That’s the problem.”, explained one of the doctors.

“So we should provoke her?”

“Yes.”

23th November, 2016

“Don’t you feel pain, Ms (Y/L/N)?”, the voice asked her for a hundredth time.

“No”, she asked calmly as the whip went along her back for one more time.

“Don’t you feel anger towards us for torturing you like an animal?”

“No.”, and with that the action was repeated. The girl was lying. She’s been tortured since two years. They did give her months to recover, to gain strength but two months weren’t enough for her body. The big letter ‘X’ was carved in her body, bleeding almost every night. But that wasn’t the worst. They had begun to manipulate her. Giving her pills, playing with her mind they had tried to made her show any sign of emotion. The girl thought this was some kind of a task that she had to pass. She never let them know she was suffering. She never let her anger out, not even when she was alone.

“Do it how many times you want!”, the girl spoke though her teeth as another whiplash hit her. This time she screamed. She made the mistake to let her feeling out for a moment and when she did, she couldn’t stop, “Do it! You won’t break me! YOU WON’T BREAK ME!”, she shouted and at the same time the windows in the Hall busted. She looked shocked as the people who had now been exposed.

“Finally”, said the leader with a smile on her face, “She showed her spark. Let’s see what her true power is.”

13th April, 2017

(Y/N) was led to a new premise. They made her sit on a chair and tied her tightly to it.

“We saw you have qualities for becoming the best soldier we have ever created.”, the girl didn’t answer, “But something is stopping you from revealing your full potential. Well, for you fortune we came with a decision how to remove this obstacle.”

The room had nothing else expect the chair she was tightened to. One of the walls was made by a Plexiglas or a common material. It was definitely showing another room and when the voice finished his statements a light from the other room showed what was there. The girl’s eyes widen at the view in front of her. There they were. Two well known faces the girl never forgot through her life here. They were the only thing giving her strength, courage to continue, to get through the Hell. Only the hope of seeing them is the reason she was still alive. She smiled for the first time in years.

“You missed them didn’t you?”

And then she came back to reality. Hydra wasn’t going to bring them to her so easily. They were going to do something to them and that scared her.

“Don’t hurt them!”, she screamed, “Mummy! Daddy! I am here! We will get out of here!”

“They can’t hear you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Show me your powers. Revile them!”

“I-I can’t! Don’t you understand, I CAN’T!”, she shouted, tears rolling down her face. She didn’t want to lose them, not now.

“You don’t give us another option. Enjoy the show.”

(Y/N) tried to untie her but her body wasn’t that strong as before. The tortures had weakened her. She screamed as loud as she could in order her parents to hear her. The girl was raging by now. She had to help them, she had to save them.

“Nooooo!”,she screamed as the way her mother did 10 years ago. With those emotions the ropes fell down on the ground black. She looked at them confused. Somehow she managed to burn them but now it wasn’t important. She ran towards the Plexiglas wall and started hitting it but nothing happened. Suddenly two soldiers appeared next to her parents. Her mummy and daddy were about to ask what was happening when out of a sudden they got shot in their heads. The girl fell on the floor at the same time her parents did.

“No!”, she was soaking quietly while looking her parent’s blood spread in the floor, at their eyes, which never saw her again, “Nooo! No! NO!”

Her rage unlocked. She fell the air getting hotter. Closing her eyes she let her feeling overwhelm her.

Part 4

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