and knocked on my flatmate's door

The Vanilla Chronicles: Kim Seokjin

Prompt: Can I request a Jin smut where you and bts are talking about y'all’s sex life and they ask you hows yours and Jin’s and you say its vanilla and so Jin gets mad and later on goes rough on you to show he’s not vanilla. Thanks and love you.

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: Dom!Jin, overstimulation, Oppa!Kink

**This story actually has a plotline *wow*
**Once again all constructive feedback is welcomed
**BTS smut/fluff/angst requests are open!

Keep reading

You’re not that bad // Conor Maynard

*smut warning*

Requested by anon 

You disliked Conor Maynard. Simple as that. You didn’t like the way girls threw themselves at him, you disliked the way your friends and flatmates would obsess over him and become beside themselves with excitement when they saw Conor leave the apartment next to yours and he gave them a smile, you disliked how he seemed to have that goddamn smile plastered on his face 24/7 and always seemed so happy.

Coincidentally Conor wasn’t your biggest fan either. He didn’t like how you were a pessimist and always found the negative side of a situation, he didn’t like how you automatically assumed he was a man hoe and he disliked how you were convinced he was a self-centred twat regardless to the fact you hardly knew anything about him at all.

Usually you would avoid interaction with Conor without problems but today that was proving to be a bit difficult. Following a long story, you’d ended up locked outside your apartment after a shower with nothing but a towel covering you, turns out there was now someone you disliked more than Conor – your flatmate.

Finally giving up hope that you’d be let into your apartment you reluctantly made your way to the door next to yours. After checking you were fully covered you knocked the door and prayed it wouldn’t be Conor that opened the door. As soon as the door opened you mentally cursed as you saw the Maynard stood there, his eyes travelled up and down your basically bare body before settling on your face and sending you a confused look. “You do realise you live next door, right?” he asked sarcastically.

You shot him a glare, “shut up smart arse, my flatmate locked me out.”

“And you’re telling me this because?”

“Conor don’t be a dick, can you help me?” you asked aggravated, you’d already had a bad enough day without him teasing you.

“Doesn’t sound like the way you talk to someone when you want help,” he smirked at you, you knew he was loving this – this was payback for all the sly remarks you’d given him over the years.

“Conor please, I’m willing to actually beg you,” your voice had started to become desperate and you knew Conor noticed because his face softened slightly and he sighed.

“Right fine, don’t lose your dignity, come in and I’ll get you some clothes to put on,” he opened the door wider to allow you to enter and grabbed your wrist, which oddly made your skin tingle, to pull you along with him as he went to his bedroom.

The moment he released you from his grip the tingling feeling disappeared and this strange longing feeling set in, craving to feel his skin against yours again. What was happening to you?

You stayed by the door and watched as he rifled around in his draws to find you some clothes. While he was distracted you allowed your eyes to scan over his body. He turned around suddenly and snapped you out of your daze, in his hand he held out a t-shirt and pair of jogging bottoms. You took them from him and offered a smile to convey your appreciation, you were surprised when he turned around to face the wall so you could get changed without you having to ask. Maybe he was more of a gentleman than you’d assumed.

“You can look now,” you told him quietly. As soon as he turned around you watched his eyes rake over your body once again, his gaze burned into your skin. Since when had Conor of all people been able to make you feel this way?

He slowly made his way closer to you until he was stood as close as he could be without actually touching you. Your body disobeyed your brain which was telling you to move away and you stayed routed to the spot awaiting his next move, a sense of excitement coursing through you.

Slowly his head started to lean towards yours and you watched in anticipation as his lips inched closer. After what felt like an eternity you felt his soft lips touch yours sending a shiver down your spine, the kiss wasn’t how you expected it to be. You assumed he would be one of those guys to give rushed and sloppy kisses but this was slow and passionate. Your arms somehow found their way around his neck and his hands grabbed your hips to tug your body flush against his.

When your lungs felt as if they were burning due to a lack of oxygen you broke the kiss. Conor’s lips, however, seemed unable to break contact with your skin as they attached themselves to your jaw instead, he left small kisses all the way from your chin to your ear.

You felt his heavy breathing against your ear as he panted against it, “do you want this?” he breathed, his words and his hot breath against your skin making pleasure shoot down your spine. You tangled your fingers through his soft hair preventing him from moving away from you.

His question was vague but you knew exactly what he was asking. Did you want him? You answered without hesitation “yes, I want this, I want you.”

He wasted no time in joining your lips again, except this time the slowness that was there before had gone and it was replaced with a new-found sense of desperation that went straight to your core. His tongue found its way into your mouth and tangled together with yours, triggering a low moan to escape you.

He pulled away from the kiss and guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you down onto the mattress. His body soon followed yours and he was hovering over you on his knees.

His hands started to slowly push the material of your top up your body and his lips followed the same path while his eyes remained locked with yours.

You let out a shaky breath as he pulled the top over your breasts, his hands lightly grazing them in his path. He didn’t stop to give any more attention to that area as you’d hoped but instead pulled the top higher and over your head.

Your disappointment was however short lived as his lips were once again hovering over yours.

You bit your lip in anticipation and heard Conor groan, causing the ache between your legs to become even more prominent. “Don’t do that,” he whispered before taking your lip between his teeth and tugging it lightly before letting it go.

He left slow and soft kisses down your neck, when he reached your collarbone he halted to suck harshly against your skin. You let out a breathy moan and tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close to you. Once satisfied he’d left a mark he pulled away and grazed his thumb along it, proud of his work.

His hands continued the journey his lips were previously taking and they stopped when he reached your breasts. He took your left breast into his hand and massaged it roughly while on the other side he circled his tongue around the nipple and tugged on it gently.

Moans were spilling from your mouth but you were eager for his hands to travel a little further south. Finally, your wish was fulfilled and his hands started moving again, stopping for his fingers to trace the waistband of your jogging bottoms. You arched your hips to assist him to remove the material from your body but he pushed you back down as his lips replaced his fingers.

His teasing was becoming torturous but Jesus it was turning you on. His hands moved so slowly you barely noticed him staring to remove your last piece of clothing until his hands came close to where you wanted, no needed him most.

You whined as his hands stroked over your thighs but avoided the area between your legs which was aching with anticipation. Suddenly he slipped one of his fingers through your wet folds and you lifted your hips towards him to try and increase the pressure while moaning his name. He pushed your body back to the bed once again and held you there with a hand on your hip.

When you felt a finger slip into you another moan was released from your mouth and your hand grabbed onto his wrist that was pinning you down for support, “more,” you breathed out as you clenched your eyes shut.

“What was that?” he asked, you could tell he was smirking just by his tone of voice.

“I need more Conor,” you whined as his finger moved at a pace that was far too slow for your liking. He fulfilled your request but instead of adding another finger as expected he added two and drastically increased his pace making your toes curl in pleasure.  

The moment he touched your clit was the moment you lost it. Your grip on his wrist tightened and you screamed out his name as your back arched and you met your orgasm. God this boy was good.

After you’d come down from your high you opened your eyes to spot Conor’s face directly above yours. Without any warning, you pulled him down to connect your lips, your legs wrapped around his waist to pull his body onto yours. “I want you Conor,” you whispered in his ear and then pushed your hips into his and sucked on the spot behind his ear, successfully earning a moan from him.

“I want you too,” he groaned and you pulled his top off before smashing your lips together with his.

Your hands ran down his sides and when you reached the waistband of his trousers and you slipped a hand underneath to grab his bulge through the material of his boxers. He groaned into your mouth and pulled away to bury his face in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses to your skin and leaving hickeys there.

You stopped teasing him and pushed his clothing from his hips and he kicked them off his legs. As soon as you saw his length uncovered you knew you needed him and quickly.

“Conor, please,” you panted out.

“What do you want Y/N?”

“I want you.”

“Come on, tell me what you want me to do gorgeous,” he breathed into your ear then started nibbling on it. you clenched your thighs together desperate to feel something.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whimpered.

You felt him run himself through your wetness before positioning himself at your entrance and eventually pushing into you. You both moaned in sync as a feeling of pure ecstasy engulfed you both.

His hips moved quickly as you both neared your highs, his face was pushed into your neck and his heavy breathing against your skin was making you feel even more turned on. His hands were tightly gripping your hips and you were clinging onto him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin slightly as you tried to control the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

“Conor,” you screamed out, your body shaking as you reached your orgasm. He kept thrusting into you at a fast past which became increasingly sloppier as he too reached a state of euphoria.

“Y/N,” he groaned into your skin and everything tingled as you realised you were the one that was able to make him feel as good as he made you feel.

His body collapsed onto yours and you both led there panting while still clinging onto each other. As you led there the feelings of anger you usually felt when around Conor had disappeared, instead there was something else there – something that was making you skin tingle and heart beat a bit faster.

He rolled over and pulled your body with his, you looked up to see him already looking at you. He had that smile on his face which you usually despised but this time it bought butterflies out in your stomach.

His warm arms wrapped around your waist made you feel safe and his body heat seemed to be radiating to make you feel warm inside.

“You know, you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” Conor murmured looking down at you and resting his hand on your cheek while his thumb ran tenderly over your lips.

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” you replied with a coy smile and kissed his thumb.

In your mind, you started to thank your flatmate for locking you out in the first place and now to be truly honest you couldn’t care less if she never let you back in again because you’d happily stay here with Conor getting to know the real Conor Maynard forever and falling for him as you did so.

Masterlist

Sherlock x Reader: How You Meet

A/N: This is my first x reader! There are probably many faults in this but it is only my first one. I hope you like it. x


You breathed in the London air as you emerged from the tube station in Baker Street, from which you walked down to the flat 221B to meet your childhood friend Doctor John Watson. The last time you had seen your friend was two years ago when he had left the army. John was depressed last time you saw him and he was not the same. But then again it was expected. He had seen his comrades being blown up and possibly worse. He’d even been shot himself! Luckily from what you had heard of him recently, he was fine. You went to the same primary school, secondary school and later university. He was four years your senior however your families were close which resulted in you both being. You had travelled by train from your hometown to London. Before catching the tube down to Baker Street, you had dropped your luggage at the hotel you were staying at which was opposite the British Library. You were that happy you were practically skipping down the street, your h/c hair flowing behind you. You found yourself stood outside the black door of 221B with a beaming smile on your face. You had been waiting for this moment. The door flew open after you had knocked and stood there was an elderly woman.

 

“Hello, are you Miss Y/N?” The woman asked.

“Yes,” You said smiling.

“I’m Mrs Hudson, the landlady however I am often treated like the housekeeper!” The friendly woman laughed. “Where are my manners? Come on in dear!” You entered the corridor and a faint sound of violin could be heard from upstairs.

“They’re just upstairs,” Mrs Hudson informed you.

They?" You questioned.

"Yes, his flatmate. Did he not tell you?”

“Oh, yes he did.” You recalled the phone calls you had with John and when you had read his blogposts. “I’ll be upstairs.” You ascended the stairs and walked into a messy living room. You found a tall, brown and curly haired man looking out the window playing his violin. ‘He must have seen me as I was walking down the street,’ you thought to yourself. You did not yet know what his facial appearance was as his back was facing you. In an armchair sat one of your closest friends.

 

“John!” You exclaimed. As soon as you spoke the music stopped and your friend jumped up from his seat.

“Y/N!” He replied rushing over to you. You had noticed his limp had gone. He pulled you into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you also,” You replied.

Pulling away your friend gestured to the man who was playing the violin. He had now turned to face you. “Y/N, meet Sherlock Holmes.” The man he had pointed to was around six foot with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and had a pair of pale blue eyes. He was wearing in a white dress shirt, a black blazer and black slacks to match. He was also wearing shiny black dress shoes. You also noted that he had very nice cheekbones.

 

You held out your hand and said, “I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N.” He shook it. His light blue eyes were looking into yours. It was like he was reading your very soul. “You’re analysing me,” you stated crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” He said. “I do have a habit of doing that…” You both were staring at each other for about a minute before John broke the ice.

“Alright Sherlock,” John said smiling. “Let’s not deduce Y/N right now, she’s only just got here! I don’t want her to storm out because she’s mad at you. I haven’t seen her in two years!” He chuckled. “He can be a right prick at times.” You laughed.

Sherlock had chosen to ignore his comments. “You’re a teacher and you had-”

“Sherlock!” John yelled cutting Sherlock off. “Please don’t.”

“Well Miss Y/N, I am sure you and John have a lot of catching up to do.” And with that, Sherlock turned around and walked into his bedroom.

‘Meow’ Chapter 1: A Meeting to Remeowmber

Uni!Lock. The RA almost caught Molly’s illegal cat but Sherlock convinced them that it was just him meowing. A multi-chapter Sherlolly story with a dash of Warstan. My attempt at a slow burn lol. We’ll see.

inspired by a prompt from this list (x)

I’ve no idea how long this is gonna be but I just felt like creating a new universe for Sherlolly to fall in love in. :)


“Meow.”

“Shhh, Toby, you have to be quiet,” Molly said in a hushed tone. She left her dorm, closing the door behind her gently. It was a new school year and she had snuck in her new cat. Her flatmate hadn’t arrived yet, but she did know her name was Mary Morstan.

“Meow.” Molly’s eyes widened.

“Do I hear a cat?” Greg Lestrade asked. He took his job as RA very seriously. Molly opened her mouth to speak.

“Nope, sorry, that was me,” a rich baritone voice answered, stepping out of the dorm across from her. Greg gave him a look of suspicion.

“Is that so?” Greg inquired further. Molly’s heart hammered in her chest, afraid of getting caught and being mesmerized by the man’s cerulean eyes.

“Meow,” the mysterious man attempted to mimic. Molly was impressed that his deep voice had nearly imitated Toby perfectly. “I tend to, uh, meow from time to time. I’m trying to break the habit.” The man smirked then, finally sending Greg away. Molly let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

“Thank you for your help,” Molly smiled. “I’m Molly. Molly Hooper.” She extended an arm out, but he waved her off.

Keep reading

The 5th Floor - Chapter 1

Members: Yoongi and Hoseok focus. All members featured.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light smut in later chapters

Length: ~3.6k

Blurb:  College/University AU  |  Cheon Yuna is your average University student, perhaps aside from how hardworking she is. What will happen when she has to move into a new building and live with a group of boys she’s never met?

All parts here

Chapter 1

I let out a rather unattractive huff as I heave two boxes into the lift and rest them on top of my suitcase. Adjusting the guitar on my back, I press the button for floor 5 and get my breath back as the doors slide shut and feel myself rising up.

The place is a fairly standard university flat set up. The buildings had six floors with eight dorms on each floor, which are separated into two flats. Each group of four, flat A and B, shares a small-ish kitchen and living area, plus a toilet and shower. There are a few other buildings with the same layout. It’s not very new, with some fairly grimy windows and really bad noise insulation, but it’s good value for money, and a fifteen minute walk to classes isn’t bad.

The thing is, until two weeks ago, I was living quite happily in some of the nicest accommodation at the University, and had just become quite friendly with the others there. Unfortunately, after a series of safety and planning issues with the building, it was announced that I and a fair few others would have to move out and be redistributed among other accommodation sites.

I had been left with two options: Move to the site furthest from campus and have to commute in by bus, or move to ‘Park Plaza’.

The thing was, in Park Plaza, each floor was either girls’ or boys’ floors: 2, 4 and 6 were girls’ and 1, 3 and 5 were boys’, and the only available room was on floor 5.  

The pastoral care advisor had acted as though the idea of putting a girl on a boys’ floor was the greatest sin known to man, but it was my choice. I decided that convenience was more important, and I could deal with living with the opposite sex. My previous flat was mixed, and though the boys were messier, it wasn’t so bad.

So, here I am, moving into the fifth floor of Park Plaza, building two.

I know I’m a pretty adaptable person, so I’m not too worried, but I can’t help the slight trepidation in my chest. It’s all well and good meeting flatmates for the first time, but these three boys have been living together for a while already, making me the odd one out.

‘As long as they’re not psychopaths, I guess…’

Once I get there I drag my belongings out and across to the left, to the door marked ‘5A’. I have a key to the place in my pocket, but I’m not sure whether to just stroll in for the first time, so I quickly knock three times.

I think I hear some kind of movement from within the flat, but when no one answers, I take out the keys and open the door myself.

“Um.. hello?” I say to no one.

As I pull my suitcase in behind me, I set my stuff down and take a glance around. It’s pretty plain, with neutral tones and a worn out carpet. There are five identical doors, one of which must be to the bathroom, and then one door with glass panes around it to my left. It’s from behind this door that I hear some voices and movement, confirming my suspicion that it must be the kitchen and living area.

It’s just as my eyes come to rest on that door that the voices abruptly stop, and the door is swung open by one of the boys as he comes stumbling out into the hall. He’s fairly tall with a healthy lean figure, and his hair is dark and flops softly over the sides of his forehead. But the most striking thing about this young man is the bright, vibrant smile across his face.

“Oh! Uh, hello - you’re finally here!” He grins, clearly a little awkward but sincere in his friendliness. “I’m Hoseok.”

“Hi! I’m Yuna, nice to meet you,” I return his smile.

I know at least one of the other boys is in the kitchen, and I suspect they heard me come in and threw Hoseok out here to suss me out. Thankfully, he seems very friendly, and the nervousness in my chest is somewhat alleviated.

“Do you want to come in and meet the others?” He poses, gesturing to the kitchen door behind him.

I nod sure and follow him in, looking around curiously. It’s not the most spacious kitchen, but for four people it’s certainly enough. There are also two sofas forming an L shape, with a small TV opposite one, then a plain table with four chairs. It’s quite cosy, and despite a few bits of clutter and food around, it’s pretty tidy, too.

“Were you expecting a boys’ flat to be messier?” A voice speaks, drawing my attention. It comes from a broad shouldered boy with a pretty face. “I’m Jin, welcome to our flat,” he smiles charmingly. He has an aura of calmness and composure about him as he stands over the stove.

I return his introduction, and then turn to the third boy. He’s perched on the arm of a sofa, and has a delicately handsome face with attractive hooded eyes, and I can’t help but notice that despite looking young, his arms and shoulders are rather muscular.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says with a shy smile, a little more reserved than the other two.

“Hi, it’s really good to meet you all! I was nervous about this, since I’m kind of barging in on your lives,” I admit, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh don’t worry, it feels too empty with just three people!” Hoseok replies as he walks over to the kitchen counter and perches on the edge of it. “And besides, you already seem an improvement on the guy we had in that room before.”

Jungkook laughs and nods at this, and though I notice Jin holding back a smirk, he seems to not want to speak badly of this mystery ex-flatmate. “Don’t exaggerate, he wasn’t that bad.”

I giggle at the other two boys as they scrunch their faces up at this.

“Well I’ll do my best to be a good flatmate!” I turn my attention back to Jin, who is stirring some chopped vegetables in a pan. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re cooking?”

“Oh? Do you like to cook?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’m no professional, but.. Well, actually I’m pretty good,” I say, nodding with a fake cockiness.

This makes him grin widely. “Yes! Finally another chef in the flat! I need someone else who appreciates the finer things.”

I laugh at this, genuinely happy at the prospect.

“Hey, and I saw you have a guitar, too!” Hoseok says. “We love music; you’ll have to play for us sometime! Jungkookie is a really good singer.”

“Oh? I look forward to hearing that!” I reply, smiling when I see the boy in question blushing and shaking his head furiously, to the laughter of the other two.

As I ease into friendly chatter with the boys, I’m able to relax. They seem… really nice.

‘Maybe moving here won’t be such a bad thing after all…’


One month later

Tucking one earphone in and pressing shuffle on my ‘morning’ playlist, I shrug on my jacket and backpack and then leave my dorm room, checking one last time that I have my keys. With a glance at my watch to confirm I’m on time, I step in front of the door next to mine, ear close to it, and knock twice.

“Jungkookie,” I say in a voice that’s gentle, but loud enough to be heard. “It’s 8:40 so make sure you get up soon! …You hear me?”

I pause until I hear a soft groan of acknowledgement from within, then walk back past my dorm and out of the main door of the flat, which is marked ‘5A’.

I take the lift down to the ground floor, yawning away the sleepiness in my eyes. Once there, I step out of the building, enjoying the warmth of the early spring sun, despite a slight cold breeze.

“Yuna!”

A now familiar voice calls my name. I look over to see Hoseok wearing sweats and a vest, red faced and out of breath, waving as he walks toward me.

“Hey! Been out on another morning run?” I smile, ever in admiration of his dedication to fitness in his pursuit of dance.

“Yep! I don’t have class till 9:30,” he smiled, wiping beads of sweat from his brow.

“Ah, Kookie is the same, make sure he wakes up okay?” I say, starting to walk backwards from him in the direction of campus. “I’m in at 9 so I’ll see you later!”

He nods, continuing toward our flat.

“Oh, and you should come jogging with me next time!” He shouts, before he gets to the doors to the building.

With a short laugh, I answer him without turning back, raising a hand above my head. “Ne-ver gonna happen!” As always, talking to him leaves me with a big grin on my face.

All things considered, I was pretty damn lucky to end up with such amiable boys. In the month we had now lived together, we were very close.

Hoseok was this bright, loveable spirit who brought energy. He was simultaneously like both an older and younger brother. Jin was affectionately dubbed ‘Jin eomma’ due to his nurturing sensibilities and as he was a year older than the rest of us, having taken a gap year. Finally, Jungkook, though shy at first, soon revealed himself to be a lot of fun (almost as loud as Hoseok, sometimes), and we soon discovered a shared love for video games. Though the boys say I’m too hard working, Jungkook is definitely a contender for the top spot, often too harsh on himself.

We relaxed together, laughed together and came to understand the little quirks we all had. It was good.

Flat 5A couldn’t be better.

~

Unfortunately, only a few minutes after taking a seat in my morning lecture, I’m reminded of the other side of my luck.

Rushing in late of course, his flash of orange hair drawing all eyes to the door, is Jimin.

Park Jimin of flat 5B, the nightmare neighbours.

He throws the lecturer a shameless grin before dropping into a free seat. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the handful of girls who are so obvious in their gawking at him. He makes a right show of taking off his jacket, too.

Sure, the kid has muscles. Get over it.’

I turn my attention away from him and back to the teacher. To be fair to Jimin, he’s not the worst of the bunch.

I could summarise them all in one word.

Jimin: Narcissist, Taehyung: Idiot, Namjoon: Arrogant, and then Yoongi: ..Complicated.

Yoongi was more difficult to pin down. But he was undoubtedly the most infuriating.

My problem with 5B was born from when I first met them…

(A few days ago)

“Okay seriously? They’re really pushing it tonight.” I say out loud to the darkness of my room.

I slam the button on my bedside clock to illuminate the display for the tenth time since I got into bed. 2:47 AM. I’m not even close to being able to fall asleep.

I lay there for a few moments, staring up into the dark. The low thumping of music reverberates through the walls from across the hall, and the sounds of drunken shouts, cheers and terrible singing cut into my room. Every now and then the sounds are amplified briefly when someone there opens the front door.

Flat 5B.

Rarely do I hold grudges, and rarely would I complain upfront about something like this, but the flat opposite ours has been irritating me to no end ever since I moved in. If they just had noisy parties on, say, Friday nights, or if everyone got the hell out and went clubbing in town at around midnight, I’d be fine with it. But no. Three nights in a row now, I haven’t been able to go to bed when I want to.

On top of that, the boys (my boys, that is; Hobi, Kookie and Jin) have told me that 5B has had somewhat of a reputation for such behaviour since the beginning of the year. They’re quite the little clique, it seems. I’ve seen them around from time to time, once or twice in a bar or club or around the shops and restaurants in town; sometimes one or two on their own, sometimes all four together.

But I definitely heard them. All too often.

‘Don’t they have work to do? ..Don’t they sleep?!’

My patience is gone. With one last exasperated sigh, I roll over and get out of bed, turning on my bedside light. I grab my big hoodie and put it on to cover my pyjama-d state, then leave my dorm room and walk over to our flat’s front door. With a quick breath to steel myself, I open it and storm across the corridor and to the door marked ‘5B’.

The music is twice as loud from here.

Now that I’m here, I suddenly want to just turn back and go wallow in self pity, but I shake myself, remembering that I have every right to be annoyed. Three nights in a fucking row.

I knock quite aggressively, my reasoning being that they wouldn’t hear me over the party otherwise. When there’s no immediate answer, I hammer my fist against the wood again, not letting up until it disappears from under my hand.

The  door is swung open, and I come face to face with the infamous Jimin.

His hair is still stupidly orange.

“Uhh, hi?” He says uncertainly, looking me up and down with a little less subtlety than I would have liked. He’s probably wondering why a random girl has turned up to a party dressed like this – I doubt he recognises me.

Folding my arms across my chest a little defensively, I get to the point. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for the party or whatever. I live across in 5A, and-”

“Right, one second,” he interrupts me, and I raise an eyebrow obviously, unimpressed.

He turns away from me and walks toward their kitchen door. I glance into the flat behind him, and it’s a mirror image of my own, though noticeably messier. There are a few drunk people in the hallway, including a couple who are making out aggressively in the corner, but the main source of noise comes from the kitchen. The boy named Taehyung is leaning over a girl who’s got her back against the wall, whispering in her ear and running a hand up and down her hip.

‘Classy.’

“Yoongi! Door.” Jimin shouts into the kitchen. When the boy I recognise as Yoongi appears, Jimin mutters “some girl,” gesturing at me, before disappearing into the other room.

‘So what, do the others report to this Yoongi guy or something?’

At this point I’m getting more irritated. Yoongi turns to me, walking over with a kind of lazy swagger, running a hand across his face. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt. It would look scruffy on some people, but it seems to work as his ‘look’. When he’s at the door, he leans a shoulder on the frame, hands in his pockets. He’s not especially tall; my eyes are around level with his jaw.

“Good evening. How can I be of assistance?” He asks. His voice is a kind of drawl, giving this impression of sarcasm and superiority.

I hesitate for a split second – this is the first time I’ve properly seen him up close, let alone spoken with him. His tousled blond hair frames a surprisingly… angelic face. His skin is pale and smooth, and his eyes have a certain depth and mystery about them.

But then I hear someone behind him smash a glass, and I remember my irritation.

“Well, I guess I had to wait to talk to the manager or something?” I say sarcastically, but he ignores this, so I clear my throat and continue. “I’m from flat 5A across the hall.”

“How? Floor five is a boys’ floor,” he asks, though he doesn’t seem particularly interested in the answer.

“I had to move in a while ago. Long story.” I say impatiently. “I’m here to talk about the noise lately.”

As I’m about to continue, he cuts in with a laugh. “Ah, straight to the point, eh? Nice.”

He seems all too amused by the situation, and I’m beginning to get sick of being interrupted. Other than a brief frown of annoyance, I ignore his comment.

“Anyway, look. You guys have been really noisy for the past few nights, and it’s getting pretty disruptive. I don’t know if you pulled this kind of shit regularly before I moved in, but I won’t just act like it doesn’t bother me. You can make noise every now and then, but keeping me up till three or four in the morning, three days in a row?”

He takes his time to respond, simply considering me for a bit. I keep my arms crossed tightly. There’s something about his gaze that’s unnerving.

“Yeah, these three nights were for Namjoon’s birthday.” He says with a slight shrug. As if that’s some kind of answer.

“What kind of birthday lasts three days?” I snap.

A smirk tugs up one corner of his lips at this, enraging me further.

“Fun ones.”

‘This bastard…’

I narrow my eyes. I don’t like him implying that I’m some kind of boring, stuck up prude. I can have fun, I can drink. I just find most parties and such are so drab and tiresome, full of narcissists and attention seekers. And I don’t take pride in disrupting other people’s lives.

“You wanna come in and join us?” He asks.

“I- What?” I frown for a second. His odd question throws me off, but I quickly regain control and scoff back at him. “No. As if.”

Yoongi gives an exaggerated shrug.

“Your loss. Anyway, my point was that since this was for his birthday, we’ll be laying off a little more after tonight. Go back to normal, you know.” He finishes his sentence through a yawn, which irks me as he doesn’t cover his mouth and I wrinkle my nose at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Right, fine. I just thought I’d say something.” I reply, taking a step back. To be honest, I just want to get back to bed now. I can hardly demand that he throw everyone out of the party. “Any chance of you lot turning the music down tonight? Just a little?”

He hums, stretching his neck and looking at me sideways. Then he inexplicably leans his upper body forward, bringing his face closer to mine.

Maybe, just for you.” He raises an eyebrow coyly, the smirk still on his face.

What is he playing at? The borderline flirtatious comment makes my back stiffen slightly, and I’m about to retaliate, but decide it’s not worth it. He’s drunk anyway.

I turn on my heel and walk the short distance to the door of my own flat, and just as I get within a few feet of it, my stomach hits the floor. I’ve forgotten to bring my key. And I’m going to look like a complete idiot if I have to knock on the door or call someone in front of Yoongi.

Panicking, I turn around and very deliberately meet his eyes across the lobby.

“What, are you watching to make sure I actually live here?” I say, cringing internally at how standoffish I sound.

Thankfully, he simply shrugs, laughing resignedly, and goes back into his own flat, shutting the door loudly behind him. I let out a deep sigh and turn back to 5A, taking out my phone and hitting the name in my contacts. He picks up after five rings.

“Hobi? I’m really sorry to wake you up. Can you come open the front door for me?”

A bleary-eyed Hoseok opens our door moments later, and I go inside eagerly.

“Why- I mean, where have you been? Are you okay?” He whispers, so as not to wake the others. His hair is adorably ruffled from sleep.

“5B were still keeping me awake! I went to go confront them.”

“You should have told me! I’d have come with you to intimidate them,” He says, jokingly holding up his fists.

I giggle quietly into my hand at his antics. “Oh, please! Hobi, I know you’re probably fitter than all of them, but you know you’re way too cute to go intimidate strangers,” I tease, pushing his arm.

He grins back, his crescent eyes crinkling cutely. There’s something about his expression I can’t read, but it’s almost pitch black anyway.

“It’s a good thing, silly! Anyway, they said they’d tone it down after tonight… You really can’t hear them from your room?” I ask back.

It makes sense, though. My dorm is closest to 5B.

He shakes his head no. “Maybe we should swap rooms? I’m a heavy sleeper!”

“What? Don’t be silly! Anyway it shouldn’t be too bad from now on. Go back to bed, Hobi. Thanks for saving me.”

He laughs gently, and ruffles my hair affectionately before going back to his dorm. “Goodnight,” he says quietly.

“Goodnight,” I reply as I gently shut my own door behind me.

As I take off my hoodie and drop back onto my bed, I listen carefully for a moment. At first I’m not sure, but when I close my eyes, I’m certain. For all his haughtiness, Yoongi did turn the music down.

Just a little, though.


Chapter 2 here!

Okay so that’s the end of Chapter 1! This is the first fanfic I’m posting here on tumblr, so I hope you guys enjoy! Feedback welcome!

I promise things are going to get pretty interesting… Bad boy Yoongi just does things to me >.<

ALSO because I’m lame the layout of the flats matters quite a bit in this fanfic, I made a little diagram for you guys. don’tjudgepls

Alright, my loves. Next up on my rec post updating is the wonderful world of Alternate Universes aka AUs. Some of my faves oh man the possibilities. You can also check out older fics in my AU rec post here and another here

Kick off the moss by Lizardbeth

Modern AU. Loki is a rock star and Sif is his attorney. Sweet and unbelievably sexy.

Suddenly I See by Lizardbeth

Prequel to the above. Loki and Sif in their adolescence 

The Wrong Door by Lizardbeth

Modern AU. She knocks on the wrong door.

The Eccentric by damalur

Sherlock AU with a twist. Loki is a consulting magician and acquires a flatmate. Wonderful.

Soulmates AU by nayanroo

You only see color when you meet the one

What We Alone Know by garconne

High School AU. They share a love of art. Angsty with a sweet ending.

The Secret Sea by garconne

Mermaid AU and graphic

In Which Loki Loses a Battle (But He and Sif Win the War) by NoRationalThoughtRequired

High School AU. Sif the softball star and Loki the theater geek.

In a Minute There is Time by NoRationalThoughtRequired

Modern AU. Loki’s car breaks down, a hot motorcyclist helps him out.

Labor Day by murdur

Modern AU. Sif goes into labor, Loki runs late.

You & I by murdur

Olympics AU

Cygnus by nayanroo

Post-Ragnarok/Reincarnation fic

Measured Out My Life With Coffee Spoons by NoRationalThoughtRequired

Modern almost-coffeeshop AU. They both need a fix.

swaying trains, sheltering dreams by silverfoxflower

Modern AU. Sif is a bouncer at the club where Loki DJs

the artist. by rushie

College AU. Sif answers an ad for an artist looking for a model

i alone know by rushie

A spin on the Hades and Persephone myth

Desks are made to be messed up by lostloveloki

College Professor AU. Smutty/sexy

The Infamous Professor Odinson by plastic_cello

College Professor AU. More sexy sex

Breaking Convention by epistretes

Harry Potter AU. I have not yet read this one!

Freaks by happytide

Circus AU. Sif’s sword swallowing and Loki’s dagger throwing make for quite an act

New Neighbors AU by nanyoky

Meeting at the snack machine

Speeding ticket by margotkim

Sif gets pulled over. Too good

press play by coffeesuperhero

College professors AU. Sif won’t stand for this.

situation normal by coffeesuperhero

first date/met on online dating site AU

AUs AUs AUS YESSSSSSS

Fun with the runs

I had the runs totally out of the blue on Sunday. It just hit me with no prior warning, and as both of my flatmates were in, I staged an accident.

The first thing happened accidentally. I was sitting at my desk, when I felt the need to fart. I did, and I felt something wet slip out. I stood up, went to the toilet, and saw that I had soiled myself a little. As I was cleaning up, I felt a tremendous urge to go, and I knew it would be just as messy as the genuine accident I just had. So I changed my underwear (from soiled white to clean white) and put my pajamas back on, as the mess didn’t soil them.

In the living room, my flatmate was talking about having a bath. Perfect! But she took so long to do it. I was sitting there and watching TV with them, getting increasingly desperate. I could barely sit down.

Finally she went for a bath. As she was running it, I nearly soiled myself again. It very nearly slipped out. This was incredibly desperate. But I managed to hold it and not let on to anyone how I felt. She asked if anyone needed to use the toilet before she went in. We both said no.

So, now flatmate A was in the bath, and it was just me and flatmate B in the living room. I wanted to wait until I knew she was in the bath for a while before I acted. But the wait was so bad. I nearly just decided to get it out before then as it was causing me so much pain. I knew it was going to be a lot of mess. And very liquidy.

Flatmate B decided to do the dishes, so I followed her into the kitchen to help. The time was approaching when I was going to do it, as flatmate A had been in the bath at least 15 mins now. The kitchen was a great place to do it, as there was no carpet here.

B was washing up and I was talking to her, I waited for another cramp to come on. I was mid conversation with her when I felt it coming again. I stopped mid sentence and said ‘oh no, oh no’, and let it all run out.

It was loud! It cracked and popped as it came out with a wet rush, and instantly my pants were filled with liquid. I noticed B was looking at me, then she said ‘did you just…’ and I nodded, looking shocked.

Her reaction was amazing. Really cute. She put her hand slowly to her mouth, then moved it to her nose briefly (as it was really smelly), then moved it back to her mouth, as if her holding her nose would make me feel worse. 

I just kept saying ‘oh god, oh no’, which was pretty unscripted, as it’s a shocking thing to happen. B asked if I was bad. I put my hand behind me and felt a huge wet lump. ‘No, it’s not good, I’ve soiled myself really badly’ I whispered. 

She apologised for some reason, like it was her fault when it obviously wasn’t. It was a general ‘sorry this happened to you’ thing. I felt it run down my leg. Then I noticed it on the floor, and on my slippers!

I pulled my pajamas down, in front of her, carefully, feeling more of it run down my legs. I felt really brave now, and I really wanted her to see it. So I turned around and said ‘is it really bad?’

What she saw must have been incredibly soiled underwear, swollen with mess. She said ‘yeah kind of. Looks like someone poured lumpy chocolate milkshake down your knickers.’

This made me laugh, then she asked if she wanted to get changed there, and just then, the bathroom door opened. I was prepared for flatmate A to walk in, but she went straight to her room. I used kitchen paper to wipe the bottom of my feet, then I carefully walked to the bathroom, and spent a long time cleaning up, then I showered.

I binned my underwear, then changed again. In the living room, A and B were sitting there normally. B looked at me and asked if I was ok. A asked why I wouldn’t be, and I realised that B didn’t say anything! So I sheepishly told A that I soiled myself in the kitchen when she was in the bathroom.

You should have knocked on the door she said. Then she laughed. We all laughed at it.

It was a great experience, and my flatmates were really good fun regarding it. They laughed, but it was laughing along with me and not at me. B told A that it was like that scene in ‘Bridesmaids’ which I thought was quite funny.

I really like that B saw me from the back while I was wearing white, badly soiled underwear. I love knowing that the image is in her mind. The leakage ruined it a bit and made it a bit too messy, but it was diarrhea after all.

oh-well-this-is-awkward  asked:

Idk how this works cause all I know is how to reblog stuff but hey could you write a jily au where it's like "our apartments are back to back so our bathrooms are right beside each other and sometimes we end up showering at the same time and sing duets"

SSAYes, I’ve been secretly hoping I’d get one of these. Thank you! Ok so this is a modern magic AU: it’s them in “today’s time” but also they are magic.


James shuffled into his flat at 3 pm after a rather loaded day. His mood was black and his scowl was deep enough to show it. His roommate was idly sitting at the kitchen table, flicking his wand at the magazine floating effortlessly in front of him to get the pages to turn.

“You look lovely, James,” he said, not looking up.

“Don’t start with me Remus,” James snarled, throwing his book vbag at an inviting corner of the living room before disappearing into his room.

Once inside, he sat down on his bed and exhaled a long, frustrated breath while rubbing his eyes. He was nothing if not dead tired. He pulled out his mobile phone from his back pocket and looked at the messages again.

0 messages.

It was fine; he didn’t need her anyway… or so he tried to convince himself.He caught his reflection in the mirror across from his bed and grimaced. His black hair was matted in grease and dirt. His skin looked obviously sallow and unwashed. It was time, perhaps, for a shower.


Lily was rather excited. She just finished moving in, and now had unpacked her bath salts. She wrapped a long, lavender, luxurious towel around her torso as she waited for the tub to fill up with warm water. She unscrewed open a bottle of lemon mint bubble bath and generously poured it into the water. Next, she sprinkled a packet of bath salts she had gotten from Marlene at Christmas.

“Are these supposed to go in as well as the bubble bath?” she said aloud before shrugging and letting the towel drop to the floor. Slowly, she stepped into the tub one leg and a time, and settled herself in it. 

The warm, welcoming waters engulfed Lily as she leaned back and exhaled a relaxed breath and closed her eyes. 

She was going to go to he happy place, deep within the back of her mind where–

I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING 
BUT DO YOU GOT ROOM FOR ONE MORE TROUBLED SOUL?!?!” 

Startled at the noise, Lily floundered in her tub and sent water splashing everywhere. She darted her head around to detect the source of the crooning and concluded that the noise was coming from behind the wall her head was resting on.

I DON’T KNOW WHERE I’M GOING
BUT I DON’T THINK I’M COMING HOME AND I SAID–
” 

Lily sighed, and abandoned all the hopes she had of retreating into her happy place. Instead she focused on the boy behind the wall who was singing, and realized he was singing one of her go-to tunes that she frequently belted to in the car.

THIS IS THE ROAD TO RUIN
AND WE’RE STARTING AT THE END!
” Lily sang in her loudest shower-superstar voice. There was stunned silence on the other end for a moment. Lily continued: “SAY YEAHH!” 

Right on cue, the boy behind the shower joined Lily in belting out the chorus–

 “LET’S BE ALONE TOGETHER. WE COULD STAY YOUNG FOREVER! SCREAM IT FROM THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS! LUNGS! LUNGS!


“Remus, who lives in 23B?” James asked. His hair was sopping wet, and his cheeks had a rosy hue from the shower steam.

“What?” Remus asked, looking up from his spot at the kitchen table from where he had not moved an inch. 

“Did someone move into flat 23B?”

“You look happier,” Remus said with a slight smirk, “I saw a redhead and a blonde bring in boxes earlier this morning. Why do you want to know?” 

“No reason.”


“Mar, do you know any of the neighbors?” Lily asked Marlene over toast the next day. Marlene shifted her groggy eyes from her coffee and looked at Lily.

“Do I know any of the what?” 

“The neighbors, love, the neighbors,” Lily repeated slowly until recognition lit Marlene’s over-exhausted face.

“I don’t know any but I saw some broody specy git ambling around the stairs yesterday. He looked like the rude type so I didn’t want to introduce myself.” 

Lily concluded that “broody specy git” could not fit the description of her duet partner from the day before. She decided that she would have to go over to apartment 24B later sometime this week and introduce herself.


James liked to conjure fires in a mason jar for fun. It relaxed him. On a lazy sunday evening, he was sitting stomach-down on his bed and inscendio-ing a small flame into a mason jar on the floor when he heard the pipes groan from the flat next door followed by a spray of water. James lept up from his resting position, fully aware that this noise meant that someone was using the shower in 23B. He didn’t know exactly why he was so excited at the prospect of another duet, but he knew he wanted it to happen again.

James nearly sprinted to his bathroom and turned on the shower faucet. He listened for a moment, and then heard humming–it was the same voice from the other day! James kept listening to the humming, and was pleased to know that it was a song he knew. When the girl behind the wall began singing, he confirmed his guess.

Don’t go breakin’ my heart,

I couldn’t if I tried.”

James chose this opportunity to join in

Oh, honey, if I get reckless…” he sang. He heard the familiar pause and then:

“Baby, you’re not that kind…” 

After this, they began alternating the lines.

“Don’t go breaking my heart–

“You take the weight off me–

“Honey when you knock on my door–

“I gave you my key….”

James grabbed the detachable shower head and held it to his face like a microphone. He was in full rockstar mode.

Don’t go breakin’ my… don’t go breakin’ my… I won’t go breakin’ your heart!” they both chorused the last line together. It was followed by silence until James heard the faucet on the other side of the wall close. He debated on talking. He wanted to speak to her, to know who she was. 
After much deliberation, he decided to go for it.

“Hi, I’m James,” he said, leaning on the wall.” t

There was no reply. James turned his own faucet off and listened for sounds on the other side. There was nothing. He had been too late. She had left the bathroom.


Lily felt stupid. Lily couldn’t ignore the rush of excitement she felt when she sang with the boy behind the wall. What was further stupid was that all she had to do was go next door to see him, but she was scared.

What am I scared of?

She decided, once and for all, she was going to find out who the crooner in 24B was. 

She marched out of her flat and straight to the door next to hers labeled “24B”. She wrapped her knuckles together and delivered three sharp knocks on the door.

It opened before the fourth. 

In front of her, stood a man about six feet tall with wild black hair and circle-shaped glasses. His dark brown eyes and pursed lips accentuated his handsome angular features… but also made him look rather brooding. 

A broody specy git… oh no.

Er, hello,” she said, “My name is Lily. I’ve just moved into the flat next door with my mate, Marlene. I’ve come to, er, introduce myself.. by the way, you wouldn’t happen to have any flatmates, would you?” 

As soon as she had introduced herself, his face had lit up–any trace of broodiness gone. He nodded along to her chatter, and when she had asked that last question, he smiled knowingly.

“Flatemates who like to… sing in the shower?” he asked with a full-fledged grin. Lily’s mouth contorted into a surprised smile. 

“You? You’re the crooner behind the wall?” she asked in disbelief.

“Hi, I’m James.”

hey guys! i’ve been reading quite a few fics that don’t get the recognition they deserve and that i would definitely recommend to everyone!! here are a few of them:

But Please, Don’t Bite by shyserious:  “Melodic little jingle sounded from a bell hanging over the doorframe and warm indoor air curled heavily around his shivering body for the first time in months. Harry suddenly felt a sting in the corners of his eyes and had to force down a broken sob. Fuck, he was a mess. Such a mess. He had to focus.” words: 74k, WIP

Please Remember Me Once More by peachyzain:  Everything has gone to shit, as in most of the UK has been destroyed by the corrupt government and nobody can be trusted. Louis and Zayn are partners in crime armed with devilish good looks, quick wit, and actual weapons. Liam is a guarded badass with a soft spot for one particular boy. Niall is a box of giggles and dick drawings, and a surprising amount of knowledge. Harry is a particularly affectionate boy with no memory of a life before Louis found him in the woods. words: 58k, complete

Emperors New Clothes by sunsetmog: The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship. words: 64k, WIP

Broken Boundaries by guccipriano: (READ TAGS!) Harry is the youngest recruit the Academy has ever seen. Godlike reflexes and hawk eyes make him a natural gunner assigned to fly the futuristic ship with technology so advanced it’s still classified. But it takes a two-man crew and Harry, the lone wolf, must have a partner.On his first day he meets Tomlinson, the most dangerous man at the Academy. The ice blue eyes and scarred face of the older cadet aren’t enough to scare Harry. Nor are the rumors that Tomlinson killed his last partner. But when he finds out they are to be a team, his anxiety starts to mount.Tension climbs to a breaking point when Tomlinson informs him that in order to fly the Needle he and Harry must have their bodies pressed together in a dance of sensual intimacy that makes the sexually straight Harry angry and uncomfortable. Tomlinson must master Harry completely and break down his physical and emotional boundaries. The only thing that will keep them alive is their partnership—any space between them means certain death. words: 76k, complete

I’m in Trouble Deep by allthelivelonglarry,helenahjay, sammie4jones, scrufflecake:  Louis has been nothing but clear with Harry from day one. “Don’t fall for me,” he said, eyes bright and dancing, fingers in Harry’s belt loops tugging him forward even as his words pushed him away. “I’m not your happily ever after.” words: 33k, complete

Mute by TroubledProHow is love supposed to speak, when one can’t even choke out the words?
Louis’ life was a joke through his witty words.
Harry’s life was a joke through his lack of words.
Louis was classed as a normal child; mentally and physically.
Harry was classed as an abnormal child; mentally and physically.
Louis could speak.
Harry could not.
Harry had progressive mutism.
Louis did not.
words: 122k, complete

Run Until You Feel Your Lungs Bleeding by whisperingwind: Harry’s hands tremble, carelessly ripping each of his paintings, one by one, until his studio is littered with not only remnants of his masterpieces, but his despondency. “You don’t love me.” he accuses, tugging on the roots of his hair. “You never loved me. You pity me! And to make it worse, you told everyone that you pity me! You promised you would never…” his voice fades as soon as his cries intensify.Louis can’t manage to say anything. His eyes wander, gazing over each item that once made Harry happy, and he shakes his head. Harry spent years building the ambiance of his studio and it’s been destroyed in mere minutes, thanks to him. “Harry I…no, that isn’t true. Whatever you think you heard, I swear to god isn’t true. I care about you more than - ”“Get out!” Harry screams, pointing to the door. His chest heaves with sobs. “You said it doesn’t matter that I can’t walk. You said I’m the most incredible person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Why did you lie to me?"Or, Harry is an angry, starving artist isolating himself from the rest of society due to his disability. Louis is a pop-star pretending he doesn’t care about anything, but when it comes to Harry, he cares too much. words: 49k, WIP

Little Technicolor Things by tekhnicolor:  Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California. words: 71k, wip

Behind My Eyelids are Islands of Violence by whisperingwind:  Harry has epilepsy. No matter what time it is or where he’s to be located, Louis will always come running. words: 122k, complete

Connoisseurs of Comfort by sky_reid:  louis has only really had his flat to himself for a few weeks when liam knocks on the door and brings him a new flatmate. this one turns out to be a bit different though. words: 45k, complete

oops I'm sorry someone said Ranger's Apprentice Modern AU

“Feet off the table,” Crowley said automatically as he entered the office. Leaned back in a chair with his boots on a well-worn corner of desk, Halt sipped his coffee without so much as an eyelash thrown in his officer’s direction. Will had already finished his cup, but made up for missed sass by scooting his shoes further onto his side of the paper-laden desk. Crowley sighed and glared at the young man, who grinned.

Keep reading

connoisseurs of comfort by sky_reid

pairing: harry styles/louis tomlinson (background zayn malik/gigi hadid, zayn malik/liam payne)

rating: explicit

word count: 45k

summary:  louis has only really had his flat to himself for a few weeks when liam knocks on the door and brings him a new flatmate. this one turns out to be a bit different though.

(or the one where harry has cat ears and a tail, gets scared easily and likes wearing a collar, and louis is a bit out of his element)

written for @favillesco as part of @hlspringexchange2016 (ao3)

*favorites are marked

Very loosely based on the British TV show “The Up Series” and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it pain in the arse. (L I STEN, IM NOT THE SAME SINCE THIS FIC, IT CHANGED MY LIFE AND MY HEART, PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS)

Louis Tomlinson is an unemployed, twenty-something dropout who lives with his best mate. He doesn’t have pretensions of finding a job right now and is happy as long as his cans are full of paint. Things change after he shares a spliff with Niall’s Literature professor, Harry Styles. (my first dom/sub fic ever and I REGRET NOTHING)

Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn’t realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him (look who’s back!!!!)

louis has only really had his flat to himself for a few weeks when liam knocks on the door and brings him a new flatmate. this one turns out to be a bit different though (okay now I can say for sure this author is one of my new favorites… hands down) 

Or, Louis maybe, sort of realises he’s in love with his best friend of almost twenty years and he maybe, sort of thinks that said best friend could love him back? (don’t you love when in fics everybody knows they dating but them??? this is literally one of my favorite tropes) 

Harry and Nick cook up a devilish plan to get Harry out of a terrible first date. Things get better on the tube journey home (this little piece of fluff from heaven… don’t tell me I don’t rec you fluff)

Or, the one where Louis and Harry fake it til they make it, so to speak (ima slut for fake/pretend relationship and this one… oh god this one… just read it, please)

Or the one where Louis is an actor who plays a sex scene on the day that Harry surprise-visits him on set. Cue jealousy in it’s fluffiest (this is one of the few established relationships fics that I liked and really really enjoyed, so there’s that)

Read this fic in its entirety on AO3!


Morning comes on slowly. The sunrise creeps over the steel and stone horizon of London, crawling across the carpets and up the spines of the books on the shelves, stretching over the papers on the desk and the faded fabrics of John’s chair. Sherlock stands, leaning against the doorframe between the kitchen and sitting room, and watches the dawn drive out the dark, lighting up 221B with the hushed brilliance of Christmas.

He’s going to ask John to marry him today.

Sherlock only managed a few hours of sleep the night before, and he’d woken up just before five with a jittery stomach and jangling skeleton. He had watched John for a while, studying the smoothness of his face in sleep, the smudge of his eyelashes, the soft curl of his fingers relaxed on the sheets. Sherlock had felt too full, watching him, too close to bursting, so he’d gotten up quietly, careful not to wake him.

Sherlock has turned on all the fairy lights and started a small fire, just big enough for an extra splash of heat and comforting crackle and pop of the logs, and turned on a quiet playlist of instrumental Christmas carols. He’s lined up all the makings of Christmas breakfast—French toast and rashers, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, big bowls of sliced pears and peeled oranges, hot cocoa with whipped cream, or coffee or tea, and there’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge as well, just in case. Sherlock has John’s actual Christmas gift, the permit for his firearm and the pass for a private afternoon at a shooting range, settled into a box which he painstakingly wrapped with a second, difficult-to-find roll of the same dark blue paper with silver stars he and John had ruined several days ago.

It’s going to be a fantastic Christmas, Sherlock thinks, no matter what happens. It’s going to be the best Christmas they’ve ever had, because they’re together.

Down the hall, Sherlock can hear the sounds of John waking up. He calls it up in his mind’s eye, watching for himself what he knows is happening in the bedroom: John reaching first for the other side of the bed and being put out that Sherlock isn’t there, then snuffling sleepily into his pillow for a moment, brow furrowed adorably as he decides to get up. Sherlock is almost disappointed that he’s missing it, but if he were to go back now and crawl back in next to John, John would just yelp at his cold toes and complain about his chilly fingers, so he might as well wait.

Eventually—after using the bathroom, brushing his teeth, possibly spending a few minutes in the mirror examining some imagined flaw—John comes out to the sitting room, still in his pyjamas and dressing gown. He slumps over to Sherlock, who turns to receive him, and drapes himself into Sherlock’s arms, warm and sleep-mussed and smiling.

“Merry Christmas,” Sherlock says, giving John a bit of a kiss.

“Mm. Merry Christmas,” John returns, mumbling a bit. “Got you something.”

Sherlock glances over at his own starry blue gift, alone on the mantelpiece. He’d known, of course, that John was getting him something, but now that he thought of it, he’d seen neither hide nor hair of a potential Christmas present. John giggles as he watches Sherlock realise that John has slipped something by him. “It’s upstairs,” John explains, yawning, aiming a kiss for Sherlock’s mouth and hitting half his cheek instead. “I’ll be right back.”

John goes up to his old bedroom and comes back down with a large-ish rectangular white box, about the size of a sheet of paper but about two inches deep, with a gigantic red and green velvet trimmed ribbon. He hands it to Sherlock with a grin, looking much more awake than he had been just moments ago, and a bit anxious, too.

Sherlock hadn’t thought to be nervous about receiving a gift this year, but the shy look on John’s face sets his nerves to jumping. He hadn’t really given a whole lot of thought to what John might be getting him, in part because he didn’t want to accidentally deduce it, but also in part because he had been so wrapped up in his own plans. John should count himself fortunate, Sherlock thinks wryly as he undoes the ribbon, because it might be the last year he manages to keep his present a secret. Sherlock tosses the ribbon in John’s direction, giving him a reassuring smile, and lifts off the top of the box.

Inside is a neat stack of paper, fastened along one edge with professional spiral binding. It’s a book, of sorts—a manuscript, Sherlock realises. In the center of the page, it reads in tidy block print:

A Study in Pink

John H. Watson, MD

“Can’t tell you how hard it’s been to do this with you around all the time,” John says nervously, trying to fill the silence. “I’ve been using Mrs Hudson’s laptop even, when you’re out, because you steal mine all the time. I put in all your deductions, this time, as well as I could remember, all the stuff about how you solved in, the stuff you always say is missing from the blog.”

Sherlock blinks down at the manuscript and carefully, gingerly, he lifts it out of the box. It’s thick and heavy and Sherlock imagines John, tapping away at Mrs Hudson’s laptop in secret stolen moments to write all this down, to flesh out their first case, their first story, and Sherlock can’t think past the endless loop of John John John, oh, how I love you, John.

Next to him, John fidgets. “It’s, um. It’s for you, but it’s also for me,” he says, starting to explain. “It’s for us both.”

Finally, Sherlock manages to get his mouth to do something productive. “John, it’s—this is—this is our first case.”

“Um, yeah,” John says hesitantly. “It is. But it’s also, you know, a bit of a biography.”

Sherlock tears his eyes away from the manuscript and looks over at John, who is looking back at him with a cautious grin. “A biography?”

John runs his fingers through his unruly hair as he searches for the right words. “It’s not just about our first case together,” John says, “because meeting you, Sherlock, and the—the importance of it, the weight of it, of meeting you, of you coming into my life—it was never just about the cases.”

And he reaches over and turns the first page, revealing a dedications page. For Sherlock, it reads, who I have loved since page 57.

Trembling, Sherlock turns to page 57.

Keep reading

the signs as shit my flatmates have done this semester
  • Aries: ran up and down the hallway singing Sk8er Boi
  • Taurus: bought an airhorn, sounded it at random intervals after 10PM
  • Gemini: cleaned all the dishes while drunk
  • Cancer: knocking on people's doors and running away
  • Leo: Mariah Carey singalong in the kitchen
  • Virgo: took video of two guys eating during Thanksgiving and set it to romantic music
  • Libra: sang about my sweater opera style
  • Scorpio: stuck a handful of spinach in my box of sugar cubes
  • Sagittarius: took thirty photos of me eating pasta
  • Capricorn: wore a kilt to class
  • Aquarius: "Is Overwatch a card game?"
  • Pisces: set off the fire alarm with a hairdryer
Imagine Sirius coming to you and pleading for your mercy after you’re told he killed James and Lily. You let him in, talk and you believe him and decide to help him

You felt lost after the news of Lily and James’s deaths. Everyone else had been celebrating the end of the war, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to smile. Especially after hearing that Sirius has been the one to betray two of your best friends.

Your flatmate had gone out for the night, so it came as a surprise when you had someone knocking on your door.

“Did you forget your keys,” you asked opening the door. “Sirius,” you breathed. Sirius Black, looking like a drowned rat, was standing at your door. “What are you doing here?” you questioned already reaching for your wand.

“Please,y/n, you have to let me in,” Sirius begged.

“Why should I? So you can betray me like you betrayed James and Lily?” Sirius’s face broke into a sorrowful expression.

“Y/n, please. Hear me out. Please, James was my brother.” You stared at Sirius’s face before huffing and moving to the side to let him in. You fetched some dry clothes and a towel for his hair before making tea for the two of you. 

“Ok. Now, talk,” you commanded as Sirius finished his tea. Tears started to fall from his eyes as he started to talk.

“It’s all my fault. I was the one to convince Lily and James to make Peter their secret keeper. We thought it would be safer. But-but they’re dead. Y/n, you have to believe me. James and Lily were my brother and sister. I would never do anything to hurt them,” Sirius blubbered.

“Sirius, I believe you,” you told him as you grabbed his hand and flashed him a comforting smile.

“You do?” he sniffed.

“I slipped some Vertiaserum into your tea,” you confessed. Sirius gave a small laugh at your confession. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

i did another little drabble for my modern inukag flatmate au *cries happily*

prompt: kagome finds a stray dog and brings him home
another drabble in this AU verse: here

Thanks @artistefish for the prompt and sweet words!! :3

A hesitant knock on the door disturbed him in his important task of doing absolutely fucking nothing, and Inuyasha lifted his head from his pillow with a grunt.

“Huh?” he asked, expecting Miroku, most likely about to try and coerce him into another of his double date nights. Never again.

But the voice that now pressed through the door was not that of the lecherous bastard he called a flatmate.

“Can I come in?” Kagome asked, and Inuyasha tensed.

This had never happened before. Looking around, he first was hit by a slight panic and then an all-encompassing, resigned calm as he determined there was no way he could tidy up this mess in time anyways.

“Ya,” he agreed and simultaneously sat up, smoothing his messy hair back over his shoulders and dangling his feet over the bed’s edge.

He watched the door open, a nervosity he didn’t quite understand flooding through him. When Kagome came into sight his brows furrowed at her expression: worry, and a nervous kind of excitement.

Then his eyes dropped down to her arms.

His nose twitched. The unmistakable scent of wet dog filled the room as Kagome stepped closer, the brown bundle in her arms wincing quietly with every breath it took.

It was some mutt, probably right of the street. Inuyasha tried to surpress the surge of compassion that crawled up his spine and settled in his chest.

This was none of his bussiness.

Kagome halted in the middle of the room, a little uncertain. But he could tell that she could barely contain herself.

“I found this dog in the alley around the corner,” she burst out at last, swiftly dropping down onto his bed at a safe distance. Inuyasha stared at her in bewilderment.

When did he ask her to sit? And why had she come to him of all people?

“And I thought,” she answered his unspoken question a second later, “because you seem to like animals, and because you helped me with the… cat incident, that maybe you would help me with this cute little dog as well? He’s not in a very good shape… and i don’t know what to do. Please?”

She looked at him hopefully.

“What makes you think I would?” he heard himself scoffing, and inwardly regretted his rudeness. Ever since he’d helped her with feeding and hiding Buyo that one weekend, a weird sort of… companionship had formed between the two of them.

And – despite doing his very best to fight his feelings – he enjoyed it. What they had. However small and weird it was.

But nothing good had ever come out of him trusting people.

And so he did his best to remain wary and sceptical. No one could be as nice and kind as Kagome without an ulterior motive.

The little dog lifted its head, his muzzle sniffing along Kagome’s hand before moving to the air, poking in his direction. The thing was starved, his fur a scraggy mess, but his eyes were clever and alert as they caught his. Mischievous, even.

Inuyasha scooted closer, feeling Kagome’s eyes on him. 

“It’s probably good you found him,” he admitted reluctantly, “But I think he’s fine, apart from the obvious. Give him food, water and a shower and he’ll be as good as new.”

“And love,” Kagome added decidedly.

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded. Her eyes were large and innocent as they found his, and she smiled.

“He needs love too,” she repeated, “A family to look after him. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” he echoed dumbly.

Even the word family sounded so foreign to him that he was barely able to comprehend it was something he could be a part of. That someone would want him to be a part of their family. He swallowed thickly.

“Don’t you remember that you had to hide your cat for a whole weekend, stupid?” he told her instead, staring straight ahead.

“But that was because I didn’t know if we could have pets here, and because everything was still new and nobody really knew each other. I’m sure Miroku and Sango, or even Miss Kaede, wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“You really wanna keep it?”

“Yes,” she responded decidedly, stroking the dog behind its ears. His eyes were closed, his body relaxed. It seemed like he wanted to stay too.

Inuyasha huffed. “Whatever,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I guess it’s fine with me.”

Kagome beamed at him. “Thanks, Inuyasha,” she said with genuine joy and gratitude. As if she’d needed his permission. She always did what she wanted either way, didn’t she? He’d learned that much about her.

Standing, and still clutching the dog beneath her chest, she held her other hand out to Inuyasha.

He stared at it like it might be a trap.

“Will you help me clean him?” she asked with a happy twinkle in her eyes that he found impossible to refuse, “And then tell Sango and Miroku about him too? In case we need to convince them…”

“We, huh?” he grunted. “You’re using me as a bargaining chip?”

And yet he stood, shooting her an impatient stare as he walked past her and towards the door. She remained behind him, a small, incredulous smile tugging at her lips.

“How do you like the name Shippo?” she asked then, but he ignored her, turning around in the open doorframe.

“You coming, or what?”

You Are My Sunshine

Dan’s eyes blinked open slowly, his hands reaching from under the covers to rub his eyes. He thought he had heard a knock at his door. His ears strained to hear another knock and after a few seconds of silence, he turned back on his side and closed his eyes. Another knock echoed through his door and made his eyes snap open. 

“Come in” he said, his voice cracking slightly from sleep. He heard the door creak open, light flooding into the dark room. Dan turned to face his flatmate, blinking rapidly at the sudden light. 

“Phil! Close the door” he said, groaning as he rubbed his eyes once more. 

“Sorry, sorry” Phil apologised, closing the door quietly. 

“Whats up?” He asked, propping himself up with his elbow. 

“I, uh” he paused, rubbing his neck. He looked down at his feet before glancing up at Dan. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight?” he said it in one breath, biting his lip after he finished. 

“Oh, um… Sure?” Dan replied, his voice soft. He moved over in his bed, making room for Phil. Phil awkwardly half got in bed half fell in bed. Dan stifled a laugh with his hand, his brown eyes crinkling up. Dan laid back down, unsure if Phil wanted to talk about whatever was keeping him up at four am in the morning. After minutes, though it felt like hours, Phil broke the silence. 

“Hey Dan?” He asked. 

“Hm?” Dan replied drowsily. 

“Can I tell you something? And please don’t get mad” Phil asked him. 

“Um Phil, of course you can, you dork” Dan said, laughing softly. Dan turned towards him, waiting for a response. Phil was silent for a minute, unsure on whether to say it or not.

“Dan, I’m sorry. We were supposed to be flatmates, best friends… And I screwed up. I’m sorry” he paused, “I just can’t help my heart and the fact that I love you” he said it, he had finally said it. Dan’s eyes were wide, as if he had seen a ghost. 

“I uh” Dan started to say, before Phil cut him off.

“Sh, I’m talkingggg” he said, exaggerating the ‘g’.

“Dan I know that you don’t love me but I can’t keep living like this anymore. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you when I hand you a mug of hot chocolate that I burnt myself on but I suffered through the burning of my flesh to see that incredible smile light up when you see hot chocolate” he said, taking deep breaths after. He was freaking out on the inside.

“Phil… How do you know that I don’t love you?” He asked, a grin on his face.

“No! Wait you mean you-” Phil was cut off by Dan suddenly kissing him. Dan’s soft lips were on his. Phil’s blue eyes widened before they closed, his arms wrapping around Dan’s waist and pulling him closer to him. Dan pulled back, a wide smile on his face.

“Yes, Phil Lester, I do love you” he whispered before trying to kiss him again, but instead kissed his nose. Phil laughed at him, his own laughs joining his flatmate’s.

“Good one Dan” he smirked, snuggling into Dan’s bare chest. Dan wrapped his arms around Phil, pulling him closer. 

“I love you, Dan” Phil whispered.

“I love you too, Phil” Dan whispered back into Phil’s black hair. They fell asleep like that, holding onto each other as if that was what held them to the Earth. 

Dan woke up to a scream and a shaking Phil. 

“Phil?” He asked, sitting up, brown eyes wide. He shook Phil, who’s eyes were squeezed shut. 

“PHIL!” He said, his voice much louder. Phil’s eyes snapped open, blinking at the man leaning over him. Tears stained his pale cheeks until Dan wiped them away with his thumbs. 

“Phil? What’s wrong, love” He asked, the last word just slipping out of his mouth. He didn’t mind, it felt natural… It felt right.

“I-I had a nightmare. You left me in the middle of the night, saying you hated me. You never came back” His voice cracked at the end as more tears streamed down his cheeks. Dan sighed before hugging Phil close to him.

“I will never ever leave you, Philip Michael Lester” he whispered into his ear. Phil relaxed in Dan’s arms. After a few moments, Dan’s arms were slung around Phil’s waist and Phil had one arm around Dan’s neck and one hand in his curly hair. His fingers played with the curls, a smile coming to his lips as he whispered “You have hobbit hair.”

“Hey! I wasn’t gonna straighten my hair to go to bed, okay? I didn’t know my flatmate was going to come into my room and confess his love for me” Dan replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t straighten your hair, I love your hobbit hair” he murmured. Phil put his arms around Dan’s waist, burrowing his head into his chest. Dan smiled down at Phil, his eyes crinkling when he smiled. With a yawn, Dan started to doze off. Phil on the other hand, was getting nowhere near sleep.

“Dan? Hey Dan… Wake up” Phil said, “Dan!”

“Hm… What?” He asked.

“I can’t sleep, can you sing me a song to help me sleep?” Phil asked. Dan chuckled before realising he was serious.

“Sure, but I mean my voice isn’t very good, as you know” he said.

“Thanks” he said, pausing before saying, “I love you Dan.”

“I love you too” Dan said, smiling. Phil snuggled into him, waiting for Dan to begin.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away” Dan paused, glancing down to see Phil’s bright blue eyes were still open.

“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping. I dreamt I held you in my arms. When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head, and I cried” He looked down to see Phil’s blinks were getting longer.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,” Phil was starting to doze off

“I’ll always love you and make you happy. If you will only say the same. But if you leave me to love another. You’ll regret it all one day” Phil’s perfect face was relaxing as sleep started to take over his mind.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,” Phil was asleep, he looked at peace at last.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away,” Dan finished the song, his voice soft. He looked down at Phil as he slept. His warm chocolate coloured eyes took in every inch of Phil that he could, a small smile on his lips. His eyes drooped and eventually closed. He fell asleep, holding the love of his life in his arms.