with lemons on your eyes

👁️Realize Your Wrongdoings Curse👁️

This spell is to make someone realize and feel guilty about their wrongdoings.

Originally posted by kimkell

👁️ Ingredients:
👁️ Poppet, taglock, or other representation of the target
👁️ Paper and pen
👁️ Container
👁️ Lemon juice
👁️ Onion powder
👁️ Optional: googly eyes

👁️ First, take your poppet or other representation of the target. If you have googly eyes, put those on it if possible. Have the surface entirely covered except for the representation’s eyes if it has them.
👁️ Then take your container and line the bottom of it with googly eyes if you have them. Take the pen and paper and list their wrongdoings and then put it into the container along with the representation of the target. Say, “Look at what you’ve done wrong, [target’s name]. [Their wrongdoing(s)] shall always be on your mind. You can never look away from what you’ve done!”
👁️ Then add the lemon juice and onion powder to the container and say, “You shall feel incredible remorse and guilt for [their wrongdoing(s)]. You shall never forgive yourself for [wrongdoing(s)]!”
👁️ If you want this to be a hex, add on, “Until you have done right by me, you shall be forever cursed to feel the utmost guilt for your actions henceforth.”
👁️ Close the container and keep it in a dark place. Cleanse your space.

summer house aesthetics

HUFFLEPUFF- the smell of honeysuckle and warm breezes ruffling hair; dry grass crunching underneath sandals; lemon popsicles and flushed cheeks; closing your eyes and feeling the sun; a picnic basket being opened

RAVENCLAW- collapsing in the shade of a tree; crunching the ice from a cold drink between your teeth; pages of a book being turned by the wind; the scent of blueberries and freshly cut grass; cloud gazing in the company of a friend

SLYTHERIN- the sound of car tires crunching on gravel; leaving your house to go on a long trip; unexpected summer rainstorms; taking off your shoes after a long walk; spilling cold water all over yourself; loose tank tops and bare feet; wet hair making water droplets run down your back

GRYFFINDOR- the crackling of a summer bonfire; tying your hair up; sand between toes; breathless laughter from friends’ open mouths; putting your feet on a car dashboard; sunglasses and floppy hats; the reflection of fireworks in someone’s eyes

Engaged Part II

Character/Person : Marquis de Lafayette

Pairing : Marquis de Lafayette x Reader

Time : Modern

Reader’s Gender : Female

Side Note : If your name is Valerie or Effie you’re free to imagine those two character’s names as something else

Warnings : swearing ( as always ), google translated french, lafayette being really sexual in front of children, mentions of death, miscarriage, terribly written smut, i sLIPPED A WHOLE BUNCH OF ORGASM JOKES NEAR THE END IM SORRY

Possibility Of Having Another Part : tbh idk if i made an engaged pt. 3 then it’d be really short like 1.5k words

Genre : Starts off as fluff, then angst, then sexy fluff, but turns into smut

Request : None

Word Count : 8391

Summary : After you pour your heart out to Lafayette about a very touchy subject, he shows you a different side of him that you thought didn’t existed. Sexual tension ensues after you, too, show a caring side and not long afterwards things get heated.

Part I   Part II


Quickly setting down every fork and spoon and pacing back to the kitchen and into the dining room, you were getting hungrier by the minute. You ached for the moment where you would be able to take a seat, talk to your relatives, and just dine. But that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon as your mother was still cooking her last dish. Making you grow more and more impatient as you watched her stir the bisque slowly.

“Mom, we could’ve been done with the food ages ago! You didn’t have to add this meal,” you groaned. She waved you off with her free hand.

“Nonsense, darling! Your fiance’s French. I think it’d be nice to make a French dish.”

“Magnifique!” You groaned even louder at the familiar voice that rang out. If the floor swallowed you right then and there you wouldn’t have minded.

“Why, thank you, Gilbert. See, Y/N? Even your husband has better manners than you.” Lafayette raised an eyebrow at you, a smug look apparent, and you huffed and turned your head off to the side.

“He’s not my husband.”

Grumbling, you pried your attention off of your mother and Lafayette to the platter of fish in front of you. Picking up two lemon slices, you squeezed it and silently prayed the night would go faster and the first official day of the reunion would start already. You would rather be stuck in your bed doing Thomas’s paperwork and listening to him fuck someone into oblivion, making you unable to sleep and focus than be forced to comply with your mother and cook with her. God, what you would do to be back at home.

Being lost in these thoughts and prayers, you didn’t feel Lafayette curl his arms around your waist and bury his tanned face into your neck. You didn’t realize this until he murmured a few words into the crook of your neck, sending vibrations against you.

“Ce qui serait encore mieux que mes manières serait de vous sentir contre moi” /what would be even better than my manners would be to feel you against me/

You jumped, raising your hands that were covered in lemon juice to push him, but he caught your wrists before you could touch him and pulled you against him, spinning you around while doing so. Your position was cliche, to say the least. Your backside was pulled up against him as his hands were snaked around you from behind, holding you gently yet firmly. You could feel his smile push on your skin.

“Continue to squeeze the lemons, chéri. Just act like I’m not here.” He whispered, sensually.

The feeling sent chills down your spine. He chuckled, feeling you shiver slightly. You didn’t find it as amusing as he did. Instead of laughing, you muttered curse words underneath your breath and hoped something would interrupt the two of you so he could get away from you. Your hope even grew when you heard your mother gasp loudly.

Both you and Lafayette glanced up to see your mother gaping at your position.

“You two look so cute,"  you, too, gaped. But instead of gaping in delight, just as your mother was doing, you gaped at your mother in disbelief. Is she serious? Lafayette took a second to search for your reaction, and he wasn’t displeased. Your wide eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and slightly parted mouth was enough to get the Frenchman to laugh. He pressed you closer to him, adoringly.

"I need a picture of this!”

Scrambling out of the kitchen and into her bedroom, you took the opportunity to turn and slap Lafayette. But somehow perfectly replicating your past situation: before you could lay a hand on his goddamn perfect face Lafayette’s slender fingers were latched onto your wrist, stopping you from hitting him.

 You narrowed your eyes at him and wriggled your hand, trying to pry it out of his hold but he gave you a look of warning. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was warning you about your family watching, but there wasn’t any standing around in the kitchen so that thought was out of the picture.

With everything that’s been thrown at you in such a short time you nearly forgot the deal with Lafayette, and the memory itself made you especially miss home. In exchange of him being your fiancé, you were to do everything and anything he wanted you to do. You relaxed but let your eyes continue to glare sharply at him.

He leaned forward and took your pointer finger into his mouth. Then two. Then three. Your face flushed. You could feel his tongue swirl around your finger, dipping low to take in the last of the lemon juice that dripped from your fingers. His eyes twitched slightly from the sour taste radiating off of your fingers, but it didn’t stop him from licking it off. But, God, what effected you most was that he made eye contact all the while he did this.

“I got the camera, pose!" 

As soon as your mother’s shuffling feet was heard from the dim hallway, Lafayette dropped your fingers from his hand and spun you around so you could face the table. Laying his head atop of yours, he smiled at your mother’s camera that she held up to her face. You kept your eyes focused on the platter of food in front of you, staring at the scattered lemons you placed. Every part of you ached once your eyes caught sight of the lemon juice running down the side of the dish. Your mind replayed the scene Lafayette created where he was sensually licking off the lemon juice of your fingers and you could feel your thoughts slowly trickling off to different, more sexual images. Heat spread throughout your body as your face caught up with it, causing a crimson color to fill your cheeks.

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the camera click.

"Y/N, you didn’t even look at the camera!”

Ripped away from the fantasies of Lafayette lapping of different fluids from you, you glanced up to meet your mother’s eyes, looking at you with disappointment. Cheeks still glowing red, you shrugged,

“I slept on my makeup on the way here and I didn’t get to touch it up, so maybe tomorrow?”

You tapped on Lafayette’s hand for some backup but he only grinned down at you, a look you didn’t trust at all, and smiled back up at your mother, 

“Y/N, you look beau.” /beautiful/

Your mother nodded eagerly and clenched her camera tightly to her body, ready to take another picture. You threw your head back into Lafayette’s chest and sighed at your mother’s excitement. You really didn’t want to have a picture of you and Lafayette acting like a couple and being ‘engaged’ forever.

“Exactly! If I don’t take this picture, what will you show your children?”

You parted your lips and wiped your hands on your sleek black work pants.

“Children? Mother, I-"  You furrowed your eyebrows, searching for the right words to say. You couldn’t say you didn’t want children, you did want at least one. You clearly couldn’t say Lafayette wasn’t your real fiance, that’d be a real fiasco. Damn it. What could you say?

"I-”

“Oh! Why didn’t anyone tell me the bisque was burning!”

Quickly, she handed the camera to Lafayette and returned to mixing the bisque in the silver handled pot.

Lafayette eyed the camera and you leaned back into him to see the picture your mother had taken. Much to your surprise, Lafayette tilted it so you could get a better view. In the picture, Lafayette had his head nestled against yours, a bright smile occupying his mouth with his arms tight around your waist. You could see your face painted red and the common habit you had, caught on camera. Your bottom lip was caught in between your teeth as one of your hands were brought up to your face to brush a strand of hair out of your view. If Lafayette were to be someone else, you’d admit the picture was cute.

“You look lovely at my side, chéri. I’d love to see more pictures of you tucked into me.” /darling/

This was going to be a long couple of days.


“Where’s my sister-in-law and niece, Y/B/N?” You questioned, gathering as much salad as you could onto your fork and taking a bite.

Your mother planned the seating. You were seated next to Lafayette at the edge of the table, to his right. Your mother and father were seated right across from you, and to the side was your brother. Instead of taking the healthier food as you did, he piled his plate with all the pasta and chicken he could fit and practically inhaled his food. You would’ve done the same and most likely would’ve bet money on who could finish their plate first, but you didn’t want to give Lafayette any stories to tell when you both got back to work at home.

“Valerie’s mom is at the hospital and she wanted to bring Effie there just in case something happened to her mom. Y'know, so Effie could say her last words to her grandma. Don’t worry though. She’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nodded and set down your fork, clanking it against your glass of water by accident as you did so. Using one hand to lift your glass and the other to toy with the edge of your napkin, you pulled your cup to your lips and took a sip.

“Y/N, when am I getting grandchildren out of you?”

You nearly choked on your water, rushing to set it down and hurriedly wiping your mouth with a napkin. Lafayette bit back a laugh, holding it ineffectively as a few snorts erupted from him. The same damn snorts you called cute two days ago. Straightening your back and inhaling deeply, you spoke,

“I’m sorry?”

You moved your head to the side, trying to fully comprehend what your mother just said.

“Don’t be coy. Y/B/N is younger than you and he already has a child. When are you getting one?”

“Mother,” you quieted. She continued to press, but you continued to shut her suggestions down. Shutting your eyes and steadying your breathing, you composed yourself.

“Not until we’re married.”

Lafayette didn’t let the strange behavior at the mention of a child go unnoticed. But deciding not to question it in fear of adding up to the awkward tension at the table, he changed the subject.

“I don’t know if you have heard of the news yet, but mon fleur was promoted at work. She’s got a position almost higher than mein.” /my flower/ /mine/

Your eyes snapped open and you threw a look towards his direction, staring at him in shock. Still a bit uncomfortable from the talk of you bearing a child, you slightly gawked. Why and how did Lafayette remember something as silly as your promotion? In return of your gaze, he sent you a smile and reached over to grab your spare hand that wasn’t nursing a glass of water. By instinct, you pulled away but he sent you a warning glance and tutted his head towards your parents, implying that your jerking action wasn’t exactly what an engaged couple would do. 

Putting on your best warming smile, you narrowed your eyes at Lafayette and gripped his hand harshly. He yelped but continued to hold your hand that was smaller in size and smoother compared to his.


After dinner, both yourself and Lafayette excused yourselves from the table and went off to your childhood bedroom, doing your best to ignore the sexual comments Lafayette was spurring. Turning the doorknob to your room and swinging it open, you were surprised to see everything you had before you moved out still in tact and sitting idly in the same spots they were in.

“This is a cute room, yours?” Lafayette scanned the room, rotating his body as he did. You raised an eyebrow and let your mouth quirk upwards, though Lafayette was too busy taking a look around to see your sarcastic smile.

“No, this is my brother’s room.” You lifted an arm and gestured at the baby blue walls that were plastered in posters and pictures of you and friends. Surely something your brother didn’t have on his walls.

“Oh, mon dieu! Is that Laurens?” /my god/

Lafayette rushed forward at a small Polaroid picture of you and John, long before you met Hercules. Your arm was around his shoulders and vice versa. His curly brown hair was messily tied back into his ponytail as yours was down and perfectly shaping your face. Your cheek was pressed against his, smiles painting both of you. The lights you both gave off by your presence was contrasted by the dark scenery and setting you stood in. It was a cute picture. You were fifteen and John was sixteen, but you were both in the same grade. 

Lafayette lowly chuckled at the way your tongue slightly stuck out of your open mouthed smile and the way your eyes were shut tightly, mimicking John’s expression. Your pose made it seem like you were singing aloud.

“You look étourdissant when your hair is down.” /stunning/

You laughed,

“If that’s French for poise, amazing, gorgeous, magnificent, then yes I know. Also, I’ve known you for four years, and you’ve never seen me with my hair down?” You didn’t take your eyes off of the picture as you spoke. Slowly moving on to look at the other pictures that surrounded it. 

“I guess not.”

You were busy admiring an old picture of you getting a piggy back ride on John, who was getting a piggy back ride on Hercules when the sound of a picture being crinkled sliced the silence you were adapting to abruptly. You turned your head quickly, already reaching forward, ready to snatch any pictures from Lafayette just in case he was crumbling one up. But instead of seeing him do so, as you expected, he was merely just lifting a picture up.

It was the same picture of you and John, arms over shoulders, and drunken expressions. It was the same picture of you where Lafayette complimented your appearance when your hair was down. It was the same picture of you that you clearly remembered pinning up over another picture.

“Wait, Laf-”

You grabbed onto his arm, silently pleading for him to stop, but he already lifted the picture of you and had sight of the small picture below the one of you and John. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes drooped with sorrow, finally understanding what the 'baby’ tension at the dinner table was about. You lifted a hand and rested it on your stomach, taking in the sight and a mellow expression.

“I had a miscarriage,” you started, staring at the Polaroid. You damned yourself for speaking, but it was too late to backpedal. Lafayette was already gazing intently at it, and he probably had a million questions flying through his mind. 

You sighed and studied the Polaroid, again. It’s edges were dirty and bent, but the picture in the middle looked new. You could still make out the small details in your sundress and baby bump underneath. You were pressed against another man’s body. A man Lafayette was unable to recognize, unlike your other pictures that were just filled with John, Hercules, and yourself. Ones that Lafayette was able to name without hesitation.

The stranger’s arms were around your waist, caressing the bump that was tight underneath your yellow dress. You could go on and on, describing the details of the picture, but you let out a cry, immediately snatching Lafayette’s attention.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” He looked at you worryingly, as if he was going to cry himself. But you didn’t look at him. Unable to catch his gaze, you kept your eyes focused on the picture, continuing to tell the story behind it, not allowing the tears slipping down your cheeks to stop you.

“We-”

You paused and took a breath, sniffling along the way. With choked words, you carried on,

“we were engaged. A day before our marriage I came to him and told him it wasn’t going to come. They weren’t going to come.”

You let out a jagged breath, muffling your cries by placing a hand over your mouth. Lafayette grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you close to him, letting you take in the scent of him.

“I was having twins, Lafayette. Twins.”

He stroked your hair gently, encouraging you to keep talking, resting his chin upon it while he did so. 

“After I told him about the miscarriage he went out for a drive. Later that night, I got a call. He drove off of a bridge, straight into the water.” You strained. It was slightly muffled as your face was dug into Lafayette’s chest, but he could hear you clearly, understanding every single word you said.

“I still don’t know if he did it intentionally or if he was just so caught up in his emotions that he just-” you broke out into sobs once more. Lafayette patted your back and shushed you,

“hey, just breathe.”

Still comprehending it, he gently rubbed circles into your neck until you calmed a bit. Even taking it as to lifting you up and laying you down on your back on the satin sheets and covering your body with the blanket. After getting you comfortable, he moved off of his resting knee and got up to get changed but you sat up and gripped onto his wrist. The first two times he gripped your wrist was playful, with a mischievous feeling coating him, but you held a worried, almost fearful one.

You didn’t have to say any words for him to understand. He searched your eyes for any regret you might’ve had, but none.

He nodded and crawled over to your side, lightly resting a hand against your back to test the waters. You leaned into his touch, much to his surprise and joy, and fisted his shirt, pulling his body closer. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, it’s not your fault.”

Lafayette shook his head, tracing patterns on your arm.

“No. I’m sorry you feel this way. I’m sorry you blame it on yourself,”

“I don’t-”

“Y/N.”

You sighed in defeat. It was way too late to start arguing, and even if you did, you’d be on the wrong side of the argument. Because you knew Lafayette was correct. You blamed it on yourself. If you hadn’t told your fiance about the miscarriage, you would’ve only lost two important people in your life. But because of your words, you lost the man you were giving your hand to. The man you were going to grow old with. The man you loved with all of your heart.

“Okay,” you glanced up at Lafayette who you expected to scowl at you, but instead softly smiled. You let out a last sigh,

“okay.” It was more of a confirmation to yourself than Lafayette, but he took it anyways and settled for it.


“How is it mon fleur looks even prettier when she wakes up?” /my flower/

You scanned your surroundings warily, before noticing last night definitely wasn’t a dream and was instead something that actually happened. And you were kind of glad it was.

“Y'know, Laf, my family isn’t around. You don’t have to compliment me.”

You sat up and rubbed at your eyes, expecting Lafayette to get up too, but he laid there and stared at you with a smile.

“But I mean every word I say, chéri.” /darling/

“Sure,” you rolled your shoulders and slid your foot off of the mattress and onto the wooden floor. The air conditioner that waved out of the vents sent a chilling breeze over you, causing you to shiver.

“Cold? Want me to warm you up?”

You turned to Lafayette with a raised eyebrow and exhausted smile,

“do you only sleep at night to refuel your pickup lines?”

“Nope. I also sleep so that when I see you, I am awake enough to take in all of your beauty and every detail and every flaw.”

You rolled your eyes and faced forward again, cursing under your breath,

“smooth bastard.”

“That I am, chaton.” /kitten/

“You just can’t stick to one nickname either, can you?”

“Nope.” He quipped, a joyful smile gracing his tan skin. You shook your head in amusement, a soft laugh following after; getting off of the bed.

As you approached your suitcase, which was hauled into the corner of the room, you could hear Lafayette’s humming slowly fading off the farther you strayed from him, and you soon began to wonder. Was his subtle confession true? If it was, were you able to reciprocate it? Or would that be lying to both him and you? Of course you’d admit: the man wasn’t ugly, or even decent looking.  He was definitely a gorgeous man, and he knew it. If you didn’t know him as much as you do, you would’ve fallen for the man. But you did know him the way you did, sadly. He was rude, snarky, a diva, and wanted to be treated better than you. But the way he was acting recently had been caring, selfless, loving, and self sacrificing. It didn’t sound like you were describing the same person, and if you were being completely honest, you were falling for said person. He proved himself to be observant of your life and held onto things that were special to you.
Such as your promotion at work. That meant everything in the world to you. It was almost everything you wanted. And Lafayette remembered that. You don’t just remember your enemy’s favorite color, or food, or anything like that. So you were sure Lafayette saw you as something better than an enemy, or even a friend. God, you hoped so. 

It felt wrong to go from hating someone to liking them romantically in twenty four hours, but you just did. And you loved it.


“Y/N, you look gorgeous!”

Your aunt approached you with her arms open, ready to engulf you in her embrace. You accepted it nonetheless and smiled in the hug,

“Thank you, you too.”

Your aunt’s eyes flickered over to Lafayette, who was introducing himself to your swooning cousins.

“And is this young man with you? He’s gorgeous too.” You bit back a laugh, glaring at her.

“Okay, go meet with the others and I’ll talk to you later. I don’t want you ogling my fiancé anymore.” You let out the laugh you were holding back, pushing her in the opposite direction of Lafayette, despite her very clear protests.

“Gorgeous?”

The French accent you suddenly loved to hear rang out in your ears. Ever since you broke down the night before, you and Lafayette had grown into a better relationship. He had the ability to hold your hand and waist without you flinching and pulling away in disgust. Or have an actual conversation with you without you firing insults at him to get him to stop talking to you. Needless to say, both of you were secretly loving the changes.

“Hey, she said it not me." 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to kiss your cheek, but you pressed a palm against his lips. It was an odd, teasing action that both of you seemed to do often for the past two days.

"There are children here, Lafayette.”

 He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned,

“so you’re saying you wouldn’t mind kissing me elsewhere, where there aren’t children?” You rolled your eyes, but took this as an opportunity to find out if he returned your feelings.

“Maybe, I am. But only if you want it as much as I do.”

The same arms that snaked around you, tightened. Your body was flush against his, and it fit together so well, almost like a puzzle piece.

“In that case, chaton, I want it more than you think.”

He leaned forward to kiss you again, but you turned your head off to the side so his lips came in contact with your cheek.

“Maybe later, I’m hungry.”

You shrugged quickly and walked off with a bounce to your step, leaving the Frenchman annoyed and slightly aroused.

You smirked the entirety of your walk towards the barbecue grill, knowing Lafayette was probably going to be in an annoyed mood the entire day. Picking up a couple of ribs and setting them onto your plate, you looked for any sauce that was available for you to pour onto your food. But instead, a thin figure being pulled by a smaller one caught your attention.

“Valerie!" You called, one hand cupping around your mouth.

Valerie turned around, along with Effie, her five year old daughter, and smiled. But that wasn’t the first thing you noticed. The first thing on Valerie that caught your attention wasn’t her extravagant purse, or large sunhat, or even her daughter holding onto her, but the baby bump that was very apparent under her sunset sweater. The sight of it almost made your smile drop, almost.

Masking your sadness with a charming and flashing smile, you lifted an arm and raised it high above your head, waving it. You were aware you were the loudest one among the crowd of relatives and relatives’s significant others and most likely drawing attention but that’s how it usually was when you met up with Valerie. Loud, unnecessary, and eye catching. Before you moved away and became close with Peggy, Valerie was your best friend and always had been.

"Y/N! I heard you’re engaged to the Frenchie over there.” She leaned in close and whispered, as if she was spilling a deep dark secret, and quickly glanced at your ring finger.

“Yeah, I am.”

Valerie wiggled her eyebrows and cupped a hand around the corners of her mouth, prepared to whisper something.

“Have you done the..” She stopped at realization that she was still holding her child’s hand and bit her tongue, carefully choosing her words.

“Y'know!”

You giggled, fumbling with the plate of ribs in your hold.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Valerie glared at you, clicking her tongue and teeth to think about her next words.

“Has he, uh, scrambled your eggs? Put the key into the ignition? Slipped the thread into the needle? Dipped the paintbrush into-”

You stopped her, laughing.

“I get it, I get it! Mon dieu. Are you trying to ruin sex for me?” /my god/

One of Valerie’s eyebrows flew up,

“firstly, you were never getting laid anyways, so how can I ruin it for you? Secondly, 'mon dieu?’ Y/N, that’s French.  Your fiancé is French, you’re speaking a language that you never cared to learn before.. Does he mumble that much French during sex that you’ve picked up on his language, or-”

For the second time in the past few minutes you stopped her from speaking, not wishing to hear anymore of her rambling. Especially when her child was right next to her. 

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Effie giggled from underneath her mother’s hold, causing both you and Valerie to look down at her. You eyed her curiously,

“And what’s so funny?”

You kneeled down to meet her gaze and smiled at her. She bent backwards, clamping her hand around her mouth to cover her giggles. You glanced up at Valerie to see her just as confused as you were. She shrugged and turned to search the table for food. Turning your attention back to Effie, you grinned,

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me-”

You held up your hand that wasn’t currently holding a plate full of ribs and wiggled your fingers, signifying that you were going to tickle her. 

“No, no!” She cried out, shoving your hand away with hers. She huffed before giggling again,

“You’re going to marry a prince!” Your frown dropped at the mention of marrying Lafayette, who you assumed to be the 'Prince,’ but you quickly grinned again before Effie could spot your change of mood.

“Prince?” You laughed,

“I don’t think I’m going to marry a Prince, Ef. I wish I could, then you could wear all those cute puffy dresses with me!”

She shook her head, her head full of curls bouncing at her action.

“Laffy told me he was a Prince, and he wanted you to be his Princess.” You tilted your head,

“that so? Then I’ll have to have a talk with 'Laffy’ because I’m busy being a Queen to be his Princess.”

Immediately after you spoke, you felt an arm slide around your waist and pull you to their side. In a quick movement, you let your other hand grip onto your plate, keeping it from falling over.

You darted your eyes over to the arm’s owner and came face to face with the 'Prince.’ You narrowed your eyes as he merely grinned,

“Lafayette! My ribs could’ve tipped off of my plate." 

He scoffed,

"I came here to spend time with my girl, and you’re worried about your ribs?”

“The Prince is here!”

You pushed his arm off of you and got up from your kneeling position, unable to hear Effie going on and on about Lafayette being a Prince due to the many thoughts exploding in your head.

“First of all, I’m not your girl. Second, duh. If you weren’t my 'fiance,’ I would’ve brought a basket of bread as my date.” You put air quotes around the word 'fiance,’ forgetting Valerie and Effie were still present.

“What’s with the air quotes- Y/N, you didn’t.”

Your face dropped as you slowly turned your head to meet Valerie’s intense gaze. You could hear Lafayette’s snickering from beside you, and you slapped his arm, still keeping your eyes drawn to Valerie.

“I did?”

“I can’t help you with this one, Y/N. You’re a Queen, and I’m just a mere prince.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lafayette.”

“Children are around, chéri.” /darling/


After your sister-in-law had accidentally found out about your engagement to Lafayette being fake, she handed her daughter to Lafayette, and dragged you off to the corner of your mother’s backyard. In hushed voices, she demanded you to tell her everything.

“How do you get fake engaged to someone you hate?”

“I just told you, were you not listening?” You scowled but Valerie just waved you off.

“No I did! I’m just confused. Why did he walk into your office anyways?”

You ran a hand over your face and sighed.

“He was dropping something off for a coworker.”

Valerie slowly nodded, trying to register what you were telling her. It definitely took her a few seconds, but she came to understand.

“Please tell me you still don’t hate the man. You two would be so cute together!”
You stared at her as she listed reasons as to why you and Lafayette would be a fantastic couple. 

“I hate to rain on your parade but I still hate him.” It wasn’t a full lie. You could hate someone and still like them at the same time. Valerie didn’t see through your words, instead groaning,

“this can’t be true. You two are meant to be. If you guys don’t end up fucking and come back to next year’s reunion actually engaged then I’m going to sue.”

You laughed.

“For what? Not getting with the guy you want me to be with?” Valerie huffed and puffed her chest,

“exactly!”

You glanced behind your back to take a peek at the party exploding behind you. Right in the center was Effie and Lafayette. Effie was tucked in Lafayette’s arms as he spun her around, dancing to the music. Even with the bustling crowd and booming music, you found peace when your eyes settled on Lafayette.

“Y/N..”

You turned at the sound of Valerie’s voice, a taunt lacing in her words.

“You’re staring at him with those doe eyes and lovestruck-”

“Valerie. Get over it. It’s not happening, never will.”

She shrugged, not believing your words for a second. A smirk was still evident on her face as you walked away and back to the food table. Halfway through your walk, and having to push past many relatives to get through you were relieved to finally have sight of the table, meaning you were getting close. You were a few feet away from it when an arm reached for you and grabbed hold of you, pulling you towards them and into the massive crowd of people dancing. 

You yelped loudly and thrashed around, trying to escape the stranger’s hold to get to back to the plate of ribs you left back at the table.

“Relax, it’s me, chaton.” /kitten/

The voice chuckled and you sighed, a little annoyed but relieved, relaxing into the familiar pair of arms.

“Fuck, I almost had a heart attack.” He chortled, continuing to pull you towards the center of the dancing flock of people and away from the table full of food. You eyed it sadly, desperately wanting to grab a swig of the alcohol or taste the cupcakes your mother laid out.

“Well, don’t relax now! We’re going to dance!” He cheered loudly, obviously having had a few drinks while you were off talking to Valerie. You laughed at his behavior, being dragged further into the sea of drunk, sober, and a good array of a mix.

When coming to a stop he turned on his heel and grabbed your hand, twirling you. You giggled as you did, watching Lafayette drunkenly focus on dancing with you. He grabbed your hips as you lightly swayed, maturely dancing, which was the polar opposite of everyone else around you who crazily jumped and shouted to the music. Lafayette was a good mix of both. He wasn’t jumping around and hollering lyrics in broken English, but he wasn’t calmly dancing as you were. As you strutted back and forth with a rhythmic pattern, you caught sight of Lafayette’s eyes trailing down your body and back up, a click of a tongue and a disapproving shake of a head following right after. 

“You’re too stiff, lighten up chéri! This isn’t a meeting at work!” He grabbed your arms and waved them around for you, smiling brightly. One that definitely resembled a star out in the night sky. You let your arms still, allowing Lafayette to thrash them around like you were some ragdoll.

“And this isn’t a club, minou.” /kitty/ You shot back, playfully glaring and crossing your arms. Lafayette chuckled and stopped dancing, mimicking your pose.

“French? Ah, little chaton knows more than I thought.”

“Nah, I pulled up google translate when you weren’t looking.”

Lafayette shook your words off and continued to dance, pulling you close - for the twentieth time that day - and spun you back into him, again. You glanced up to him and noticed the way the lights above shone on Lafayette’s face. The moonlight contributed to giving him a certain glow. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it made him look heavenly. The rush of feelings and thoughts you had in the morning came rushing back and you let your eyes occasionally flicker to his lips. He did the same. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his lips and your gaze just remained there, waiting for you to lean in and mold your mouths together.

“Lafayette?” Your voice was meant to be strong and confident, but it came out small, a whisper even.

He hummed in response, too focused on your lips and the way you, too, glowed to actually hear what you were saying. 

“Is it okay if I-” Before the full sentence could leave your parted lips, Lafayette smashed his against yours. His tanned hands flew up to your hair, tangling itself in them, and the other grabbed your cheek, letting you lean into his touch. Your hands were gripping onto the collar of his shirt, balling it up in your fists. He pushed into you, making you lean back and his hands to fall down to your spine to hold you steadily as he pressed his lips against yours. Your lips stung with something you couldn’t describe. It was something you hadn’t felt with your past boyfriends and something that ignited your body with a hot fire, setting you alight. As soon as the need for air arrived you pulled away, much to Lafayette’s displeasure, and gasped for air in front of him. Your eyes searched his face as his did yours. Silence passed of both of you just staring at each other, ignoring the bumping bodies and blasting music and enjoying each other’s presence that it almost made you jump when Lafayette spoke up.

“Let’s do that again.”


You don’t exactly know how, but after you and Lafayette shared a rather heated kiss in the moonlight in the middle of a dance floor you somehow wounded up in your childhood bedroom. Back pressed against the wall covered with childhood taken photos, breathy moans escaping your throat, shirt and skirt torn off and thrown without a care to the side, and the feeling of both of your sticky skin rubbing against each other, the night was pure bliss from here on out.

“Jesus, fuck!” Lafayette chuckled as you muttered a string of curse words, throwing your head back to give Lafayette more access. He grinned into your neck and traced his tongue over your jawline, the feeling of his erection pressed against your heat made you crave him even more. You shivered and ran your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it’s ends, only erupting a small groan and a wider grin from him.

“Little chaton’s really eager for this.” You pried your eyes open to see a smirk evident on his face. You rolled your eyes and let your hands press against his chest.

“Says the person who hauled me in this room in the first place.” He shrugged.

“Can you blame moi? You’re a déesse.” /me/ /goddess/

Your chest heaved causing Lafayette to focus his attention onto them, kneading them and peppering small, wet kisses on both.

“God, Lafayette, why haven’t we done this sooner?” You asked, out of breath. He removed his hands from your breasts and placed them both on the back of your thighs, lifting you up and making his way over to your bed. Laying you gently down on your satin sheets he spoke,

“Perhaps because one of us were too blinded by hatred to notice the sexual tension?”

Whining at the sudden loss of contact and ignoring whatever it is Lafayette had said, your hands immediately flew to your body, ready to pleasure yourself, but Lafayette caught your wrists, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at your actions.

“Remember our deal, ma beau. You listen to me. And I’m telling you: do not touch yourself.” /my beautiful/ His French accent came out a lot thicker than it usually was, making your body warmer and more tense. How haven’t you noticed how hot that French accent was? Blinded by the thoughts of sex, you hadn’t noticed Lafayette unclasping your bra and latching onto one of your nipples. It wasn’t until he twisted your other that you were pulled away from fantasies and into reality.

“Oh, fuck!”

Your eyes clamped shut in satisfaction as your hands found Lafayette’s bare arms, clawing at them. Lafayette tightened his hold on your nipple and rolled it in between his first finger and thumb. You loudly moaned and resisted the urge to reach down and roll your clit to further push your pleasure. Lafayette, who had noticed your twitching hand and clenching fingers, trailed his hand down from your chest, to your stomach, and down your northern regions. 

Butterflies swarmed your stomach and you could practically hear your heartbeat thumping in your chest, aching and begging for Lafayette to touch you, to insert himself into you, to do anything. So when he lightly traced a finger against your inner thigh, your heart exploded. It was at a pace too fast to track as your vision blurred.

At a dreadfully painful pace, Lafayette’s fingers made it’s way to your core, pressing down on your clothed heat. You moaned, your breathing sped as his hands danced it’s way back up to your waist, playing with the band of your underwear. Growing frustrated at the loss of Lafayette touching you, you sat up and reached for your underwear, slipping it off halfway and thinking nothing of Lafayette’s orders. Said man let out a growl like noise from his throat and glared. pushing you back onto the bed using the hand that wasn’t playing with your underwear, holding back from ripping off your underwear and slamming himself into you right then and there. It was hard to hold back on both accounts, both squirmed for contact though Lafayette had a better job of masking it, keeping his cool and taking his time in teasing you.

“I told you not to touch yourself.” His accent came out thick again, causing the wetness that pooled in your panties to grow larger, making your need for Lafayette higher. You moaned at the sound of his voice and ground your hips onto the bed, ruffling the sheets in the process, trying to get some sort of friction.

“I mean, I-” Before you could finish, Lafayette shoved a finger inside of you. It didn’t hurt, quite the opposite, but you shouted from surprise and the sudden feeling of something filling you up. Lafayette grinned at your reaction, pushing in another finger. Your eyes closed. Then another finger. You sighed in satisfaction. It was when he reached four fingers that you were leaving short, airy moans, encouraging Lafayette to continue. Your clenched against Lafayette’s fingers as you grew closer to your orgasm, and Lafayette only sped up. Your moans gradually became louder and more sensual sounding when Lafayette curled his fingers and brushed against your spot, a scream pouring out from your lungs. 

After hitting your first orgasm, you breathed heavily, attempting to climb down from your high. You stared down at Lafayette, wiping away your sweat, and caught sight of him wrapping his mouth around his fingers and lapping away at the fluids you spilled. The lemon juice incident replayed in your head, making you groan at the sight.

“I didn’t know I could make a woman scream with only my fingers.”

Chest still heaving, you breathily laughed.

“Yeah? Well, you did. Congratulations.”

Lafayette laughed along with you and turned to fumble with his belt buckle.

“Mon Dieu. I’ve been wanting to do this forever. Are you okay?” He turned his head, rolling it against his neck to peek over his shoulder and back at you for reassurance that you were ready and fully consented to him. Sitting up on your knees fully undressed you smiled and silently nodded, giving him the okay.

He nodded to himself and slid out of his pants, then his undergarments. You took a moment to sneak a glance at his size, and you weren’t disappointed. You just weren’t sure how he was going to fit. He climbed onto the bed, then onto you, and placed a soft, more passionate kiss on your lips. You dipped low into the bed from the weight, and kissed Lafayette back. You could feel his smile shift into the kiss and he pulled away, still smiling. And it seemed genuine. Unlike the other times he grinned at you because of a sexual joke he made or smirked because you did something stupid and embarrassed yourself, no. His eyes were an equal mix of lust and passion, and with the smile added to it you were torn between hugging him or pushing him back and fucking him into oblivion.

“Do you have a- what’s the word..” Lafayette licked his lips, eyes wandering the room as he desperately searched for the word he meant to say.

“Condom? Laf, this is my childhood room. You think I’d have condoms here?”

Lafayette raised his eyebrows in doubt, unable to believe what you were trying to imply. You sighed.

“Fine, yes, I do have condoms.” You propped yourself onto your elbows and pushed yourself up from your resting position, causing Lafayette to morph his expression into worry and push you back down.

“No, no! Mon chéri, I am not allowing you to get the condom for your first time. I’ll go get it, where is it?” /my darling/

You huffed a laugh,

“first time? Lafayette you do realize I was pregnant before?”

Lafayette shook his head,

“non. Our first time.” /no/

Your lips parted and were pulled into an ‘o’ shape. Nodding in understanding of his words, you laid back down and lifted an arm to point at the vanity table across the room. 

“They’re taped behind the mirror.”

Lafayette got up and moved to reach for the vanity table, or at least behind it where the condoms were taped and hanging. 

“Smart and pretty.” You snorted.

“Smart? Lafayette, I work with the President. So do you. You’re my coworker. You just realized I’m smart? Look, come over here, put the condom on and fuck me.”

Lafayette threw a hand up to his forehead, playfully saluting you and climbing atop of you. The moment you’ve been aching for all day was finally coming and you were more than excited. Excited in more than one way, of course. Hearing the package rip and seeing the condom being slipped onto Lafayette aroused you even more, making you ache for your second orgasm to come. Lafayette looked at you, positioning himself at your entrance, awaiting for your approval. You looked him in the eyes and nodded your head, shoving any fears of his size being in you aside, pushing your hips down to meet his thrust. A series of groans and sighs ensued and the feeling of you being stretched stung, but it passed when Lafayette trailing hot kisses down your neck to the valley in between your breasts.

“Vous êtes tellement incroyable, Y/N.” /you are so incredible/

When the wave of pain washed over, you sunk your hips into Lafayette’s, silently telling him to continue to thrust, which he gladly did. His thrusts started off slow, but with a few whispers and words of encouragement, his thrusts were as fast as someone could go. Slamming into you, filling you fully, and almost hitting the spot you desperately wanted him to slam against. Sliding one hand underneath your calf, he pulled it up and laid it on his shoulder, getting another angle against you. His sweat dripped from his body and onto yours, mixing and swirling, before dripping down and onto the bed beneath you. His warm breath hovered over your chest, creating a slight stimulation for your nipples. The second time he pushed into you with the new angle, he hit exactly where you wanted him to. You moaned into his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling it roughly and pulling the hairtie from it.

“L-Lafayette! Oh, fuck, Gilbert.”

He pressed harder, faster, which seemed physically impossible. One of Lafayette’s hands tweaked your nipple, and you nearly spilled, but held it to come at the same time Lafayette did.

“I’m-”

“Sami, chéri!” /same, darling/ He strained.

With a final push, you came undone and Lafayette rode you out through it. Your fingers curled into your palm, slightly scarring it along with your vision that went hazy. Your head spun and your vision was filled with stars, but you were already coming down from your high with heavy panting. Not soon after, he came tumbling after you, muttering in French and writhing above you. With heavy breaths and sighs, he rolled off of you and pulled the filled condom off of himself. Tying a knot in it and disposing of it, he climbed over to you on the bed and laid beside you.

“It’s a little early to say this, ma chéri, but I love you. And I have for years, but I didn’t know how to approach you properly, since you hate me for some reason.”

You smiled, not even having to hesitate to reciprocate his feelings.

“I love you too. I just realized it, too. So you got lucky.” You tiredly mustered up. Your eyes were barely struggling to open,

“oui. I did get lucky. Now stop arguing and go to sleep.”

You didn’t have to argue with him on that one, easily complying and falling into a deep sleep as soon as your eyes fluttered shut.


You woke up to an empty bedside. Immediately you shot up and scanned the room for Lafayette. Your eyes flickered back to the empty side of the bed, noting how the bedsheets were ruffled and the smell of sex still wavered in the room. Did Lafayette leave you? Was it a dream? Questions were flying through your head a mile a minute and you rushed over to your suitcase, pulling on an oversized T-Shirt and panties and rushing downstairs to your living room.

Almost tripping on your own feet on the way down the stairs, you pushed open the door to the living room to see the backside of Lafayette and Valerie, who sat in front of him, presumably chatting. Though the sound of you slamming open the door caught both of their attentions. Valerie smirked but hid it terribly by taking a sip of her coffee as Lafayette smiled at you and pulled you onto his lap.

Valerie removed the cup of coffee from her lips and coughed slightly, swirling her cup and staring at the continents of it.

“Still hate him, huh? That’s not what I heard last night.”

You felt your face catch fire, and before you could argue back and protest, Lafayette clamped a hand around your mouth and grinned at Valerie.

“It was lovely talking to you, but I think mon petit tigre en colère and I need to work some things out in her room.” /my little angry tiger/

Valerie raised a brow and caressed the bump underneath her shirt.

“Don’t let me stop you.”


Tags : @triceracop

Damon Salvatore Imagine

Request: Ooo can I please make a request where the Reader works as a doctor/healer in mystic falls and loves her work. Damon falls in love with her and makes excuses to go and see her. He finally gets the courage to ask her out when he sees one of the other doctors hitting on her and gets jealous. Thanks so much x


Damon Salvatore had been a recurring patient in your office, but you could never find anything physically wrong with him.

He was perfectly healthy and in great condition. You didn’t mind him visiting; it made your day interesting. You always wondered what random symptoms he would pull out of his ass.

Like clockwork, he walked into your office at noon. The assistant at the front had a habit of just paging you when he walked in.

You walked out front and motioned him to come into your office. “What’s your problem today?” You had to stifle your giggled as you asked him.

“I don’t know Doc. I’ve got a case of the blues today.” He smirked as he said this. Your co worker, James,  knocked on the door.

“I’m with a patient, James. This can wait.” You replied, sharply as soon as he opened the door. This man had been bothering you for years now.

“You gonna finally give me that dinner, baby girl?” Your face turned sour as if you had bit a lemon as he said this.

“Please be professional.” You rolled your eyes, “Never in a million years. Now get out.” You snapped and closed the door.

“I’m sorry about that.” You murmured to Damon.

He took a breathe in, “So you’ve probably realized that I’m not actually sick.” You smiled at him as he continued, “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out. So may I take you to dinner?”

You grinned at him and replied, “Yes.”

“Now, I’m gonna go tell that prick to quit bothering you. Keep up the good work, Doc and I’ll see you Saturday at 7.” He stood up and walked out of the room confident as ever.

Lemon

Authors note: Hey! I hope you guys are enjoying the prompts!  This was meant to turn out different and more descriptive but I just can’t get it to work for me, so here is this.
Warning: A little smutty, nothing too serious at all. 
Master List found HERE 
Prompt inspired by GIF at the bottom of this piece. Xx


 When he doesn’t want to do something, he’s whiny, very whiny. He will pout and groan, and mumble, doing his best to think of ways to get out of whatever he has been forced to do. 

You sigh as he drags his feet towards the restaurant, the restaurant that his friends’ picked and insisted that everyone show up at, despite Shawn politely trying to decline their offers. 

“Babe, I’m not feeling good, can we just go back to the room?” He mumbles as he mildly draws your arm back, stopping you from walking closer to the entrance of the restaurant. You sigh as you turn to face him, 

“You’re feeling fine, it’s just dinner, it won’t hurt you.” You insist, pulling him towards the entrance, 

“But, what if I’m not feeling fine?” He challenges and for a moment you take the time to ponder over whether to call his bluff or not. 

You step closer to him, his lips curling into a smirk— he thinks he’s winning— little does he know he isn’t skipping dinner. 

You lean in closer, “if you’re not feeling good, we can go back.” You inform him, promptly moving your lips closer to his ear, “but, If you get through dinner, dessert won’t be the only thing you indulge in.” You whisper, just for him to hear, getting your point and your intentions across. 

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7/11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

“So…” He offered nonchalantly. 

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

“Wanna help me open tomorrow?” 


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

Imagine: Leon Draisaitl - Spearing

Requested: Yes | No

Smut: Yes | No

Word Count: 939

Author’s Note: I have requests to finish, but after the game I just couldn’t write anything that wasn’t this, I had the idea and it just flowed. :) 

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Alex Nylander - Unknown Blues

request: Are you able to do a Alexander Nylander one where you guys have a pregnancy scared and you both are worried since you both are young.
authors note: i hope you enjoy this and thank you for your request!
word count: 2729

Staring blankly at the glass of water in front of you- your eyes focused on the half cut lemon slice floating around with the ice, as you were for a moment, completely oblivious to the noise surrounding you. The Stockholm sun shined on you as you sat next to your mother and mother-in-law at the open air restaurant. Going over the dates and days in your head once again, you even counted on your fingers. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Six days. Those six days, were six days too many. And just like you had already known- the panic started to creep up on you again.

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anonymous asked:

For my rioting punks. Use lemon juice to wash off tear gas. Also. Tear gas canisters are hot as fuck. Use heat gloves before you toss that fuck back.

Just be careful not to get lemon in your eyes..

~ mod Petar

fallen silk // TAEHYUNG [PT1]

summary - Enrolling at one of the most renowned fashion schools was what you have been working towards ever since you first had a needle and thread in hand. You made sure that nothing would come between you and your goal, but you didn’t expect an effortlessly handsome boy to completely overrule your priorities.
word count - 2.4k

genre - fashiondesigner!au, fluff, angst + smut in later parts
pairing - Taehyung x OC/Reader
warnings - none~

A/N - so i’ve been inspired to write this by tae himself…but also because i’ve been binge watching project runway, not gonna lie. also, thanks to Tammy, my fav kesha stan @boymeetsfiction, for helping me with finding the title ♡

Originally posted by mvssmedia

PART 1PART 2 /

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