get my buzz on

Waking Up in Vegas

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Word Count: About 2k

Tagging: @toomanyfandoms109  @nadialinett14  @serkewen12  @jantales @miightymiighty  @drugsdiggs  @kayleebrynnnn  @shy-and-awkward-daveed

Originally posted by daveeddiggsit




I sat in my living room in shook. The only noise came from the TV, which I could barely hear as the turn of events started to sink in. There was no way I could be married, especially to someone I knew for all of two days. Hell he wasn’t even that interested in me which was a good thing. If this was true all I have to do is find a way to contact him and get a divorce. As I pulled out my laptop, my phone buzzed.

Gina 9:56 pm

Did you make it home?

Me 9:57 pm

Yeah. I really need to talk to you and Ava about Vegas.

Gina 9:59 pm

You sound serious. We’ll be over in 10. That alright?

Me 10:02 pm

Yes

After throwing my phone back on the couch, I googled his name and the first thing I saw were multiple pictures of him to the right of my screen. He had his own Wikipedia page. As I got lost in scrolling through it, someone started knocking on my door.

I pulled the door open as Ava and Gina greeted me with worried expressions on their faces.

“What happened (Y/N/N)?”, Ava asked as she sat next to me on the couch, while Gina occupied the other side

“Is that who I think it is?”, Gina nearly yelled as she grabbed my laptop, “You slept with an actor!? That’s what you’re all worked up about?”

My eyes never left the document that sat on the coffee table. Ava leaned over and grabbed the paper that was causing all my trouble.

“Holy shit”, Ava looked over to me, panicked, “She’s married to Daveed”

“You’re what?”, she nearly yelled again, “How is that possible? We really shouldn’t have gone to that third bar”

I sighed as I leaned back on the couch. It grew quiet in my apartment again with the exception of my TV.

“What are you going to do?”, Ava questioned

“I don’t have his number, but I can try to message him through social media. If he even responds. I can’t believe I was this irresponsible”

“You can message him and in the meantime we’ll keep you company”, Ava reassured me, “It’s the least we can do after the day you’ve had”

“I love you guys”, I said as I took my laptop back from Gina, opening Daveed’s twitter

Me 10:40 pm

Hey Daveed. It’s (Y/N). We met in Vegas last week. Something happened the night we were together and it’s pretty urgent. Please get back to me as soon as you can.

I hit send and hoped he would respond quickly.

“Now we play the waiting game”, Gina sighed, “If I’m being honest, who the hell does he think he is?”

Ava and I both snapped out head in her direction.

“Gina”, she gasped

“No seriously. The night you two met, it seemed to me that he wanted to be with you. What did he not see in you? He can’t just lead you on like that then leave you hangin’ in the wind. You deserve so much better than that”, she groaned, “It’s his lose anyways”

“Very true”, Ava smiled, “He doesn’t even know what he’s missing”

We spent the rest of the night watching TV, eating, and talking about the latest office gossip. It felt good to have just the night with my best friends again. They always made me feel like everything was going to be alright, even when it most likely wouldn’t be.

When morning came, I pushed myself off the recliner and grabbed a blanket for Ava and Gina, who were knocked out together on the sofa. After taking a shower, I went to make breakfast for them. Almost halfway through, I could hear Ava trying to wake up Gina for the third time.

Eventually she muttered a, “Fine stay asleep then” and her footsteps grew closer to the kitchen.

“How’s it going Mrs. Diggs?”

I groaned and pretty soon we were both laughing as she grabbed some plates.

“Please don’t call me that. Ever

“I see he hasn’t responded”, Ava said with much edge in her voice

“I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s only been a few hours since I sent it. Maybe he was working or he had a night out with Rafael and Adrienne”

“So you think he’s out with his friends again? Maybe this time he won’t wake up married to his second wife”

As soon as she said it, I averted my eyes. I know it was supposed to be a one night stand, but there was a part of me that really wished he would have called. The way he looked at me made me feel a way I hadn’t in a pretty long time.

“(Y/N)? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I just…”

When I turned to Ava, she was sitting at the table with her face in her hands, mumbling something I couldn’t understand.

“What’s wrong?”, I asked as I kneeled down in front of her

She slowly moved her hands, her eyes were glassy and full of sorrow, “I feel like this is my fault! You could have come home and just moved on, but now you have to go through all of this to–”

“It’s not your fault or Rafael’s. None of us were in the right state of mind that night. Daveed and I are grown ups. We decided to get drunk and now we have to deal with the consequences. Please don’t blame yourself. I will never blame you for this”

Her eyes widened as she stared down at me, “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I know you look after me like a big sister, but this one is on me”

We both smiled before we began to laughing. Silently we finished cooking and setting up the table. When it was all said and done, Gina finally made her way to the dining room.

“Morning y’all”, she grinned

“It’s about damn time”, I muttered, “I thought you planned on sleeping the day away”

Gina glared at the both of us as she started making her plate, “After the week we had, we all should’ve slept in. Greg has been making our lives a living hell”

We spent the rest of the morning and majority of the afternoon relaxing in my living room. I was glad they decided to stay for the weekend. It helped keep my mind off of the fact that I was married and Daveed still had not responded in spite of him being active on social media.


Wednesday rolled around and still no response. By then I started looking into lawyers to help handle this case as well as message Daveed a few more times.

As I walked out of the conference room with Gina, we couldn’t help but giggle with excitement. They loved our presentation and we were getting promoted. The best part was watching Greg’s face contort with embarrassment when they realized he was planning on us failing the entire time.

“It’s time to celebrate!”, Gina tried not to yell as she pulled me into a hug

“I can’t wait! We finally did it!”

Gina pulled away and straightened her clothes when someone cleared their throat from behind us. I quickly turned around and released a breath I didn’t even realize I was hiding.

“Hey Jeremy”, I said softly

Jeremy and I worked together on multiple projects together and became really good friends over my time here. He was always sweet to me, especially when he realized how much of dick our boss was when it came to Gina and I.

He smiled softly again, his dimples beginning to show, “Hey, (Y/N). Hi, Gina”

“Hey, Jeremy”, she eyed the both of us before a sly grin spread across her face, “We’re going out to celebrate tonight. Want to join us?”

“I was just coming over here to congratulate you two”, he stepped closer with his arm brushing against mine, “I would love to go out with you guys. If that’s alright with you darlin’”

I tried not a blush at the nickname he have me years ago. Hearing that in his southern drawl drove me crazy. I made a rule quite some time ago that I would never date my coworkers, but Jeremy could definitely be the exception.

A soft, “of course”, was all I could manage to get out

“Great”, he said as he began to grin, “Text me the details when you get the chance. I’ll see you around darlin”

He waved to Gina and walked back to his office. I stopped holding my breath and leaned against the wall.

“What the hell was that? I thought you didn’t have a thing for any of the people we worked with”, Gina shrieked

“I said I wouldn’t date them. I never said none of them were appealing to me”

She gave me a knowing smirk and shook her head, “Go for it (Y/N). He’s into you. You’re into him. What’s the worse that could happen?”

“She’s married”, Ava said as she walked out the conference room

“Shit”, we both muttered as we walked back to our office


We all sat in the booth trying to catch our breath after Jeremy finished telling his story.

“I can’t believe you actually said that”, Gina cried out

“It wasn’t supposed to come out that way, but he had it coming”

When we all calmed down, Jeremy leaned back into his seat and smiled at me. I returned it as he took my hand under the table.

“I’m glad you invited me out tonight”

“That was all Gina, not me”, I clarified

“So you didn’t want me to come out?”, he said pretending to be offended

“No”, I giggled, “I wanted you to come. I like spending time with you”

“I like spending time with you too”, he said as he gave my hand a soft squeeze

In my head, everything was planned out. I would meet with a lawyer sometime this week to get divorced whether Daveed wanted to respond or not. A part of me was extremely irritated that he never responded, but I was trying to remain calm about the entire situation. At some point, I would have to tell Jeremy if we continue on like this. Would he even understand? The women he likes accidentally got married and can’t find her husband. Yeah, that should blow over easy. Either way, pretty soon I’ll be a free woman and I won’t have to worry about this ordeal or have  to face Daveed again hopefully.

The sooner I got it over with, the sooner I could put it behind me.


As Jeremy walked me up the steps, my stomach was still full of butterflies. We laughed the entire way to my house and he had yet to let go of my hand.

“Did you have a good time?”, he asked shyly

“Of course. I always have fun when you’re around”

Between the butterflies and blushing, I wasn’t thinking straight. I wanted to kiss him more than anything. I shouldn’t have waited so long to go out with Jeremy. Maybe if we started dating before the trip, I would never be in this position in the first place.

“We should try this again with just the two of us”, he smiled as we reached the top to the staircase

“It’s a date”, I giggled

He grinned at me and looked at my lips for only a second. The mood began to change as we inched closer to each other. Before our lips could touch, someone cleared their throat. We jumped back and Jeremy wrapped his arm around my waist before I lost my balance.

We both looked in the direction of the noise and my eyes widened. If it wasn’t for the shock, I would have screamed at him until my face turned blue.

“Umm, hey (Y/N)”, Daveed said nervously

This can’t be happening.

Undiscovered

Undiscovered by evansrogerskitten

Dean x Reader x Sam

Sam, Dean, and Reader seek shelter in a storm, and find solace in each other.

Warnings: Inspired by Season 12, Episode 9, but no specific spoilers. EXPLICIT SMUT. Threesome (NO WINCEST), Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Dirty talk, Language, Alcohol.

Word Count: 4068 | On AO3

This was inspired by an idea from my Over 30 sisters & my impulsive purchase of a J2 Sandwich photo opp for Seacon in April. Ahhh! I’m freakin out! :) Enjoy! 

Our boots crunched on the wet leaves as we moved quickly through the forest. The overcast sky and misting rain didn’t help since we were already cold in thin, gray jumpsuits. I shivered as I followed close behind Dean, Sam behind us with the stolen gun.

Suddenly we reached a clearing and I could see the outline of a small building. As we approached Sam and I kept lookout, and Dean went up to jimmy the door of the cabin. After looking inside a window, he stepped back and kicked the door in. Sam and I followed him inside, looking quickly behind us before barricading the cabin with a heavy dresser.

The cabin was dark inside with half of the windows boarded up, and the hodgepodge of furniture collected like dusty landmines. The earthy scent of rain and old firewood smoke filled the air. We spread out around the one room, searching boxes and crates. Sam banged open a rusty metal filing cabinet on the far wall, and laughed shortly as he saw what was inside.

Keep reading

Grad School Pro-tip:

For the love of god, turn off your email notifications at night! I assure you, nothing in there is more important than your sanity!

Keagster coda in which Ransom dies and Holster is acting weird

also on ao3

“He’s gone, you know, you can come out.”

Ransom was lying on the floor of the attic, staring up at rafters with his arms splayed at his sides. The bed seemed too far for him to walk when he was in this state. How could he ever walk again when Alexei Mashkov and more importantly, Alexei Mashkov’s ass had been within three feet of him?

“That was so embarrassing,” Ransom moaned, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re going to have to find a new roommate because I’m never showing my face again.”

He’d imagined meeting Tater in various different ways for the last few years, he’d always planned to wow him with his hockey skills. Maybe Tater would show up randomly at one of his games and he’d wait for him after and he’d pull him close and kiss him and tell him that he played beautifully in that thick Russian accent and Ransom would wrap his arms around those thick shoulders and…

“Dude, he’s just a guy,” Holster said, unimpressed. Ransom was vaguely aware of the sound of the mattress creaking across the room as Holster sat down.

“He’s Alexei “Tater” Mashkov,” Ransom said, annoyed. “You’re just a guy. I’m just a guy.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

Ransom’s phone buzzed in his pocket, once, twice…

He reached down and pulled it out

Jack: Can I give Tater your number?

Holy shit. Before Ransom could even process the words Tater and your number in the same sentence his phone buzzed again.

Jack: He asked.

He. Asked. Ransom immediately shot up and ran across the room to fling his phone in Holster’s lap.

“Read. It.”

“He wants your number?”

“He. Wants. My. Number.”

Ransom’s hands were shaking as he took the phone back and sat down next to Holster on the bottom bunk.

“What do I say?”

“You say yes?” Alexei Mashkov wanted his number. Alexei Mashkov, who had spoken exactly four words to during his entire visit.

Ransom: Yeah. Of course. What’s he want with it?

That sounded cool and calm and not like Ransom was freaking out, right?

“Bro, breathe. Come on.” Holster nudged his arm and Ransom stared at him with wide eyes. “This is your second chance, right? If you text him you can actually think about what you’re saying before you say it and he’ll have no idea that you’re a crazy obsessed fan.”

“Screw you,” he muttered. His phone buzzed again and this time…

“IT’S HIM,” Ransom exclaimed, standing up. “Holster, it’s him.”

555-767-9988: Is Alexei ))

555-767-9988: Zimmboni give me your number

“What do I say?”

“Alexei, I love you, let me call you daddy?” Holser said, smirking.

Ransom waved him off. “Stop. This is serious, dude. What do I say?”

“Just…say hi?”

“That’s too boring. He’s going to get bored if I just say hi.”

“Give me the phone.” Holster stood up and grabbed the phone from Ransom’s hand and Ransom immediately tackled him to the ground.

“No! You’re going to say something stupid!” He hissed, as Holster held the phone above his head. “Give it back!”

Holster flipped them over, straddling Ransom’s waist and grinned triumphantly as he typed.

Ransom: Hey. Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you earlier.

“What are you writing? Fuck Holster what are you writing?”

“I just told him you think his ass is better than Jack’s,” he teased, and Ransom let out a wail.

“Get your stupid huge thighs off me and give me my phone!” He exclaimed, pushing Holster backwards so that he could grab the phone from his hands.

Holster handed it back, laughing, and sat up on his forearms, Ransom still half in his lap.

“Fuck. Okay. Fine. This is fine,” Ransom said, looking down at the message. “Shit man, you scared me.”

He looked down at Holster, glasses askew and shirt riding up his torso and laughed. “You’re such a dick.”

“A dick who’s helping you text your idol,” Holster said, grinning and pushing his glasses back into place. “Asshole.”

Tater: Is okay you ran. I have affect like that on people ))))))

“Is that…is he?” That was definitely flirting, right? Ransom couldn’t be sure… He turned the phone to show Holster.

“Dude.” Holster said, sitting up. “That’s gay.”

Ransom sat criss-cross on the floor, phone in his lap. He was just about to reply when the phone buzzed again and Holster hovered behind his back looking at the response.

Tater: Next time will give you autograph

“God he’s cocky,” Holster grumbled, and Ransom nudged his stomach.

“He can afford to be cocky with an ass like that.”

Ransom: Haha that’d be cool actually.

“That’d be cool actually,” Holster mimicked. Ransom glared. Why was he being like this?

“You know I suck at this stuff, man, stop,” Ransom told him. Ever since he broke up with March he’d been trying to get back in the game, and it wasn’t like Alexei Mashkov was queer or even trying to hook up with him, but it was the principle of the thing.

Tater: You are good player too. I watch games with Zimmboni.

“He thinks I’m a good player,” Ransom whispered. Holy shit.

Ransom: Thanks man. Just sucks we didn’t make it farther in the playoffs.

Tater: Some win, some lose )))

“Why is he even texting you, though?” Holster muttered, standing back up.

Ransom looked up, shocked. “Dude. What’s your problem?”

“Don’t have one. I’m just wondering. It’s kinda weird, okay?”

And it was weird, but he was literally texting his celebrity crush and his best bro could be a little happier for him?

“Yeah I mean I don’t get it, but shit man.”

“Yeah, shit.”

This was…awkward. He watched Holster carefully. He was…tense. After all these years playing together, living together, Ransom knew when something was up.

He opened his mouth to ask when Holster turned around abruptly, looking down at him.

“This is your Birthday Keagster, Rans, let’s go down, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Holster held a hand out to help him up and his hand lingered before he ran it back through his hair. So weird.

“And eat something! I will take care of your drunk ass if I have to, but I won’t clean up any of your puke even if it is your birthday,” Holster said, grinning. Back to normal.

Ransom laughed. “I’m the one who took care of your drunk ass when you stripped on the pong table last week, but okay.”

“Fuck off,” Holster said, nudging him in the arm.

Back to normal. Ransom grinned and opened the attic door. “It’s my birthday I’ll get shitfaced if I  want to.”

His phone buzzed again with another text from Alexei and he felt Holster physically stiffen at his side.

What the fuck.

He decided to ignore the text for now. He only had a little while longer to enjoy college with his best bud, and even if they were moving in together, everything was about to change.

Birthday Princess

Yikes this was supposed to go up on Ash’s birthday, but you get the point. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Another drunken line of girls passed by me on a determined path to the bathroom, bumping the cheap tiara on my head in the process. I huffed in response while adjusting the ridiculously glittery ‘Birthday Girl’ sash my friends bought and took the opportunity to swipe the newly freed seats near the bar so I could people-watch. An overflow of sweaty bodies wriggled and swayed on every inch of the dance floor free of inhibition due to their intoxication levels. Some men were getting encouraging pats on the backs from their wolf packs of friends before shooting their shot with whichever girl happened to be giggling their way. People throughout the club whooped and hollered when the DJ switched to some vaguely different genre of party music that the lively crowd could fist-bump and grind to.

After straining my neck to check the entrance of the club for the umpteenth time in the past 15 minutes, I turned back around to see a mesmerizing pair of hazel eyes peering into mine. I hadn’t realized how deeply I was staring until the wavy-haired individual tried speaking to me over the loud music.

“I’m sorry, what?” I shouted closer to him.

“I asked if you wanted a refill,” he said loudly while gesturing to my half empty water.

My phone buzzed in my hand, indicating I was getting a text. I briefly looked down at the preview of the message from my friends’ group chat.

Sent at 8:43pm

1: Y/N I’m so sorry honey I can’t make it :( I thought I could cram for this test but there’s way more content than I thought

Sent at 8:44pm

2: ^^ me too :/ my boyfriend’s game went into overtime and I’m pretty sure they’re celebrating after. Maybe another time?

I rolled my eyes and looked back up at the stranger clearing the table of leftover drinks and glasses.

“Actually, I think I was just heading out,” I said standing from my seat.

“So soon?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, clubbing on your birthday just doesn’t have the same ring to it when you’re by yourself,” I replied.

“You don’t have any friends coming to celebrate with you?” He questioned as he wiped the table down and went behind the bar counter.

I followed his trail and answered with evident irritation, “Nope, they suddenly had other plans that were more important this evening.”

“Well,” he planted both of his hands on the counter, “I, in good conscious, can’t let you end tonight as the unhappy birthday girl.”

“And why is that?” I asked curiously.

“Because I’m going to become your new favorite barkeep,” he said with a proud smile. “And it is with this new title that I solemnly promise,” he raised his right hand as if he was taking an oath, “…to ensure that the rest of tonight does not suck for you.”

A small smirk grew on my face at the mischievous man in front of me.

“You can’t be serious, right?” I asked incredulously. “I don’t even know you!”

“How about this, birthday girl” he glanced at a few people walking up to the bar, most likely to order new drinks, “My name is Ashton. I like going on adventures and buying vanilla scented candles. My favorite part of movies are the trailers and I don’t understand how zodiac signs work. I’m gonna come back over here at 9 when my shift ends. If you decide by then that you don’t think an innocent night of fun with me is better than sitting at home by yourself, I will personally call you an Uber and let you go home,” he smiled walking away.

“You should add ‘cocky’ to that little bio of yours,” I playfully said with my arms crossed.

“Not cocky!” He shouted over his shoulder, “just hopeful.”


Promptly at 9:00, Ashton popped out of a room near the back of the club in his normal clothes and re-approached me at the bar.

“So, birthday girl,” he leaned on the counter, “what’s our verdict?”

“Well seeing as you made such an appealing case and I don’t want to put this outfit to waste, I think one night of adventure couldn’t hurt,” I said in a posh tone of voice.

“Then what are we waiting around for?” He asked holding his hand out. I grabbed it and he helped me out of my seat. “Let’s get this party started.”

With that, Ashton led me out of the club and towards the parking lot. He pulled out his car keys and hit the unlock button, bringing my eyes to the flashing headlights on a black mustang.

“This is you?” I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged and replied opening the passenger door for me, “Well I can’t have the birthday princess walking around on her feet all night now, can I?”

“How considerate of you. And when did I upgrade to princess?” I said getting into the car and reaching over to open his door.

Ashton entered on his side of the car and strapped on his safety belt before brandishing that smile of his once more to answer, “When you decided to spend your night with me.” With that remark, Ashton revved up the engine and we dashed through the streets filled with nightlife.


My eyes scanned the various strings of bright lights and neon signs on the buildings near us as the car slowed to a stop. Ashton and I exited the car and re-joined hands as he led me towards the entrance of a building that had a string of people waiting in line to enter. We approached the bouncer - who could easily be mistaken for a ten-foot brick wall - with an icy glare.

“Sam!” Ashton shouted with open arms. The bouncer turned around and suddenly smiled widely, “Ashton!” The two shared a brief hug and fell into small talk.

“How long has it been man?” The bouncer said.

“It’s definitely been too long, buddy, but I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to show my friend here a good time,” Ashton said gesturing to me.

I shook Sam’s outreached hand and smiled, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Any friend of Ashton is a friend of mine.”

“Do you think you can let us in? I want to introduce her to Mitchy,” Ashton politely asked.

“Of course, but you know the drill man,” Sam giving a side eye towards the line of hopeful club goers beginning to look towards us.

Ashton nodded understandably and leaned towards me to whisper, “Just go with it.”

Before I could ask what ‘it’ was that Ashton was referring to, Sam started shouting.

“Look dammit, I’m not gonna say it again: if you want in you have to wait in line just like everybody else!”

“Fine! No need to get all testy,” Ashton shouted back while we walked backwards with displeased expressions.

While the people waiting in line hooted their agreements at Sam and went back to their own business, Sam winked at us and let down the rope for us to enter while whispering, “You guys enjoy your night,” with a thumbs-up.

I laughed at the switch in his demeanor and followed Ashton into the building. My eyes glimmered and a smile grew on my face as I looked over the chandeliers and walked down the slightly spiraled staircase past a few bottle girls that could very well be models. The all white decor on the top and bottom levels of the building were being splotched with reflections of the blue pink and green lights from the tiled dance floor and the DJ’s station. I was disrupted from my cotton candy dream when Ashton continued to lead me to the bar where a tattooed man in sunglasses stood.

“Ash is that you?” He called out.

“You’re pretty popular around here, huh?” I asked Ashton with a smirk.

“You could say that,” he chuckled and bro-hugged the man at the bar.

“Is this the pretty girl you were texting me about?” The tattooed pointed towards me, causing me to raise my eyebrows.

Ashton turned beet red and the man stepped up to me, “My name’s Mitchy, one of Ashton’s good friends. Unless I’ve got the wrong glasses on, you must be the birthday girl.”

“That’s right,” I said adjusting my sash so the letters were in the right place. “And this one over here is my event guide for the night,” I said nodding towards Ashton.

“Well he brought you to the right place,” he said leading me to a bar stool and going behind the counter. “First two rounds are on me!”

“Mitch, you don’t have to do that man,” Ashton said waving his hands.

“Nonsense! First round is for her birthday, and the second is for yours,” Mitchy continuing to conjure up a suitable beverage to start the night.

My head quickly whipped around to Ashton with my mouth agape, “When is your birthday?!”

“It might also be tonight,” he said nonchalantly with his fingers interlaced in the countertop.

“Seriously?” I questioned.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he shrugged.

I took the plastic tiara off of my head and placed it on his and said, “Guess who’s the birthday princess now?” making Ashton laugh with an accompanying clap.

Mitchy slid two shot glasses towards us layered with various spirits. Ashton reached for one, but Mitchy lightly swatted his hand away and held up a finger as if to say ‘wait for it’ while pulling a lighter out of his pocket. My eyebrows were furrowed until Mitchy sparked a flame and lit the upper layer of our shots aflame.

“Holy shit. What is that?” I said staring at the beverage.

“It’s informally titled flaming liquid cocaine, but tonight it’s your birthday candle,” Mitchy stated proudly.

“In that case,” Ashton began, “make a wish, princess.”

Mitchy counted us off on three and we blew out the flame, quickly picking up the glass to down the liquid. I shook my head as warmth crept through my belly and up my spine. “Oh my god that tasted like Christmas.”

“Lucky for you, not-so Saint Nick has another one of those coming up,” Mitchy said re-sparking his lighter, making Ashton and I whoop in response.


“What do you mean you can’t dance?” Ashton was baffled bringing me onto the dance floor.

“I said what I said! Unless there’s instructions in the song, I can’t dance for shit!” I told him.

Ashton laced our fingers and brought us closer together, slowly beginning to sway us into the tempo of the upbeat song currently playing, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Alright, but don’t say anything when I step in your toes,” I retaliated making his glazed eyes squint while he giggled.

As many times as I stumbled, Ashton kept me on my feet and in a great mood. He wasn’t exactly the world’s best dancer either, so most of our dancing was simply us goofing off with each other and singing the lyrics we knew. Eventually the liquor filtered through his system and he got a lot smoother in his movements. 

It was when Ashton began body rolling that a small circle formed in the dance floor around us with other club goers chanting and cheering his freestyle session on. I giggled when he looked around and realized what was happening before setting his eyes on me. He did a dramatic pause and cracked an imaginary whip, making said cracking sound with his mouth. He then whipped the imaginary rope around me, tightening the knot with both hands and started his gradual pull. When the crowd saw I wasn’t shifting with his faux lasso, a few girls behind me gently pushed me towards him. The crowd got louder as we got closer and the drop in the song was approaching. Ashton “released” his lasso and spun me twice into his arms before creating a picture-perfect moment and dipping me at the bass drop of the song, causing the crowd to cheer and applaud.

We fell into a fit of laughter while the crowd went back to their own dancing. He pulled me upright slowly so I wouldn’t get too dizzy. As our giggles faded, our smiles remained as we recognized how close we were in proximity. The DJ switched the song to a slower, more promiscuous one. Ashton brushed the remaining strands of hair out of my face and my breath hitched when he brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. I took his hands in mine and slid them down to my hips, both of us swaying and grinding softly to the music. I turned around so his front was pressed against my backside like a second skin. He kept his hands lightly roaming on my sides and thighs, rolling his hips against me while I pushed my ass on him as rhythmically as I could. My head lulled to rest on his shoulder, allowing me to feel how quickly his pulse had gotten from our actions. We continued like that, occasionally altering the pace, until the song ended. We faced each other with flushed cheeks, still close in each other’s arms.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He exhaled.


“Oh my god,” I moaned while throwing my head back.

“Fuck, I know,” Ashton groaned equally satisfied.

The McDonald’s cashier behind the counter judgmentally stared at both of us individually going through our second Big Macs.

“It’s even better than the first one!” He shouted with a mouthful.

I gasped and set my burger down to take the bun off and add French fries into it. When I replaced the bun and took a bite, I nearly melted in my seat. “This is the best night ever,” I said taking a sip of my chocolate milkshake.

“I told you!” Ashton victoriously yelled dipping fries into his shake.

And laughed at his boasting and waved away the few other drunks in the restaurant to high five him.

“I’m now your favorite barkeep and newly officiated birthday buddy,” he smiled. “And why do you keep laughing,” he said giggling himself.

“Because you have really deep dimples so your smile is super cute okay! I mean look at you,” I whisper shouted touching his face. “It’s like you’re sculpted to be perfect,” I commented lowly making him blush further.

“It takes perfection to know it,” he attempted to compliment me back, but the moment was stolen by me laughing at the fact that he was trying to bring his straw to his mouth with his tongue and failing miserably.

“Dammit, I’m trying to say you’re beautiful and I’m fucking it up,” he laughed and covered his face.

I removed his hands from his face and kissed his cheek, making his laughter falter.

“Thank you for tonight,” I smiled.

He smiled back and wrapped me into a side hug, “Right back at ya, birthday princess.”

Paper Hearts

A stupidly fluffy SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Valentine’s Celebration


Simon

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Meet me in Room 172.

           I refold the note, noticing how the paper has already settled into well-known creases since this morning.  It’s not the first anonymous note I’ve gotten over the past week, but it’s the first time the writer has made a move beyond waxing poetic.

           The Watford halls are sickening today, even to me.  I understand the appeal of decorating for Christmas, but Valentine’s Day?  It just seems a little patronizing to adorn the walls in that many paper hearts, whether the hearts can magically float around people’s heads or not.  And it’s not that I’m a cynic, but Valentine’s Day this year was set to be a difficult one for me, since I no longer have Agatha to dote upon.

           But as I slip the little creased note back into my pocket and make for Room 172, the paper hearts seem less mocking and my own beating heart feels just a bit lighter.

           When I reach the door I falter, doubts rushing to my head.  What if there’s no one there?  And what if there is?  Then what?

           But I turn the knob and shove open the door.

           And immediately I see who’s waiting and I hate the thrill that bolts through me, and I wish that I had turned back.

           Baz’s face goes red when he sees me and I wonder briefly if I’ve seen him this angry before, so enraged that he turns colour.

           “What,” he seethes, “are you doing here?”

           “What am I doing here?” I spit back, my heart sinking and racing at once.  “What are you doing here?”

           “None of your business,” he growls, sitting on one of the desks and pointedly looking anywhere but at me.

           Everything in me is boiling.  I’m angry and I’m disappointed at once, but I puff up my pride and stalk over to another desk and sit down to wait.  Maybe the fates will be on my side for once and the mystery writer will reveal themselves yet.

           Although, would that be the fates with me or against me?  Because everything right now is looking like Baz wrote the note, and sitting here in the empty classroom full of paper hearts with him just a few desks away, it’s getting harder to ignore the buzzing under my skin and harder to ignore the fact that he is the common denominator.

           The clock ticks away like a drumbeat and I stare at the door, hoping, praying for something to happen.

           “Why are you here?”

           I throw a glance over at Baz, who has turned his head so that he can see me without looking at me.  “If you must know,” I reply sharply, “I’m waiting for someone.”

           “Really?”

           “You think I’m lying?”

           “I think you’re pathetic.”

           I have to squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten like Penny told me before I can breathe evenly again.  “What’s your excuse, Basil?” I grit through my teeth. “Why do you have to be here?  Has no one invited you across the threshold?” It’s a lame dig, but I know it will be effective, whether he shows it or not.  If there’s anything I’ve learned from being his enemy it’s that vampire jokes are a no-no.

           “I told you, it’s none of your business.”

           “Can’t you take your business elsewhere, then?”

           “No.”

           “Arse.”

           “Prat.”

           When I turn to throw another insult at him, the sun through the window catches the side of his face and turns his eyes to silver… and the insult dies in my throat.

           Beautiful.

           I try to stomp on the thought.  No.

           But it’s too late.  

           It’s there.  It’s taken root.

           And the longer I look at him the more it flowers.

           Another thought bubbles up to the surface almost tentatively.  Are you sure it wasn’t him?

           As much as I know I should try to extinguish that notion along with the previous, I let it linger.  If I think back on it, I don’t think I ever have seen him angry enough to turn red.

           So maybe he’s not angry.  

           Maybe it’s something else.

           When he meets my eye, I’m still staring at him, and his gaze darts away again, but his cheeks.

           They go pink, and there’s no anger in his eyes.  Only uncertainty.

           His silver eyes.

           And all at once, I decide to change everything.

Baz

“Alright, Baz,” comes Simon’s soft voice, “you can drop the act.”

           I turn to look at him again, and it’s like looking at the sun because I can feel his image scorching onto my retinas.  Meeting Simon Snow’s gaze is something that can only be done in doses, for me at least, I don’t know why.

           Well, I know why, but I can’t logically explain it.

           “Act?” I repeat dumbly.

           He slides off the desk and takes a slow step in my direction, and even that is enough to set my heart hammering.  “Yes,” he says, “act.”

           “I don’t know what -”

           “I think you do,” he interrupts me, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pauses for a breath, like he’s second-guessing himself, but then he meets my eyes again.  “I think you wrote the notes.”

           My brain screeches to a halt and nothing makes sense.  “Notes,” I reply, and I hate myself because the boy I’m head-over-heels for is actually not at my throat and I sound like a parrot.

           He seems to get a burst of confidence.  “It’s okay, Baz,” he goes on, still slowly advancing, “I don’t mind, but you could have just said something.”

           I have nowhere to go.  I want to leap up from my spot and run, but I can’t.  Even in all this, my pride wins.  I’m on a desk in the middle of an empty classroom, and I’m cornered.  “Said something,” I stammer, “about what?”

           He shrugs, right in front of me now.  “Anything from any of the notes, which were unbelievably mushy, by the way. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

           “Hang on,” I stop him, unable to keep from shrinking back.  “You’ve been getting notes?”

           “All week,” he grins, “though I didn’t realize it was you until I got here.  I have to say, that last one was weak poetry. I mean, ‘roses are red, violets are blue’?”

           Something in my brain clicks and I swear I hear a ding.  “‘Meet me in Room 172’,” I finish with a sinking feeling.

           His face lights up like all the stars in the sky are in his eyes.  “I knew it was you,” he murmurs, and – Crowley – his gaze flickers to my mouth, no more than a foot away.

           And I want it.  I want to keep quiet and let him close the distance.  Hell, I want to do it myself.

           But I reach into my pocket and pull out the scrap of paper from inside.  “Then I hate to tell you this, Snow,” I say quietly, my heart breaking, “but I didn’t do it.”

           He looks away from my eyes for the first time and his brow scrunches up when he sees the note in my hand.  He takes it from me and unfolds it, his eyes scanning over the words again and again, the same little three-line poem.  I watch as he checks his pockets, finding an identical note in his jeans, and the penny drops.

           “It wasn’t you,” he says, almost to himself, and his face falls.

           “I’ve been getting anonymous notes all week, too,” I confess.  “It’s a trick on both of us.”

           His hands are shaking.  “Why would anyone do this?” he asks quietly, his face reddening, and I can’t tell whether it’s with embarrassment or anger or sadness, or all of the above.

           “I don’t know,” I stand at last and saunter over to lean against the wall, grateful for some air that isn’t charged with proximity.  “People are dicks, I guess.”

           “And you swear that you had nothing to do with it?”  He won’t look at me at all now.

           “I swear.”

           He squeezes his eyes shut and I half expect tears to appear on his cheeks, but he just nods once and turns to march towards the door.

           An image flashes through my brain, of his eyes boring into mine, of how they flickered down to my flustered mouth.

           And suddenly I decide that I’ve had enough of this.

           “Simon.”

           He stops dead in his tracks.  “What?” he says without looking at me.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “What for?  You said you didn’t do anything.”  His voice sounds sore, like he is fighting tears after all.

           “I’m sorry that you thought it was me,” I tell him, “because…” I trail off, unsure how to finish.

           “Because what?”

           I wish he would look at me.  “I hate to ask, but did you mean any of that?”

           “About not minding if it was you?”  He sighs like he’s given up.  “Yes. I meant all of it.”

           He meant all of it.  From the words to the glance at my lips.  All of it.

           He shoots me a red-faced glare at my silence.  “Happy?”

           I stare back, and I can feel a big stupid grin bubbling up.  “Yes, actually.”

           That catches him off-guard.  “Why?”

           “Because I wouldn’t mind if it was you, either,” I blurt out before I can lose my nerve.

           His eyebrows finally un-furrow and he meets my eyes properly.  I know that I’m turning pink again, but as he starts to step towards me, I hold his gaze.

           When he’s right in front of me again, close enough that I have to look down to see him, he whispers “You mean…”

           One of the paper hearts littering the room suddenly jumps up off a desk, and I don’t know if they’ve been charmed to target fools in love or not, but it starts to dance around my head.

           Simon chuckles at the heart.  “Is that a yes?”

           I allow myself a tempered version of the big stupid grin.  “You could say that.”

           The heart swoops in front of my eyes, and I lazily wave it away.

           Simon stands on tiptoe and plucks the heart from the air by my eyes, and we’re no further than a breath apart.

           And then he leans in the rest of the way.

Agatha

Penny squeezes my hand hard when they finally fall together, and I squeeze back.  Stealthily she snaps a silent photo on her phone, and I make a mental note to get her to send it to me later.  The fruits of our labours.

           We step back from the open door of Room 172 as quietly as we can, but I doubt we need to worry.  Simon and Baz are both far too occupied to notice us.

           Penny keeps hold of my hand as we make a break for it, waiting until we’re around several corners before speaking.

           “Damn,” she grins at me, “we are good.”

           All I can do is grin back, still holding her hand as we stroll down the hallway, kicking up clouds of red paper hearts.

I made a tiny friend today 😁🐝

I got inspired by @charminglyantiquated‘s Elsewhere University idea, and wrote up a little something. (All credit for the ‘verse goes to the aforementioned blogger.)

***

I swear that being under that thing’s cold gaze was like staring down an oncoming truck. It promised nothing but death and pain, and I was terrified.

It was bright, and shone gold in the sun; but its mouth was like two swords, and its wings were razor-edged. Its great compound eyes, which should have been faceted like a geodesic dome, were entirely too human. This was one of the creatures I had been warned about, the reason you shut and locked your windows until the cold came and drove them away.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I risked looking away from the creature to see who’d texted me.

are you seriously telling me that you’re trapped in your room with a wasp

“This is not just a wasp,” I muttered, looking back up at the monster on my window ledge. A wasp would be bad, but this was worse. Wasps are what, an inch long? This thing was as big as my hand. If it was a wasp, it was a mutant wasp. And given where I was, it was probably worse than that. 

It looked away from me, antennae waving, and crept along the windowsill. It was then that I noticed–one of its legs was broken, and it was really creeping. More like dragging. Had it been hurt? How?

just swat it with a shoe, my friend texted.

The rules–the ones the RAs told us at the beginning of the year in hushed whispers, and then never spoke of again–said not to hurt insects. You don’t drown spiders, you don’t burn ants, you don’t swat at moths. And, just like all the other sometimes-nonsensical rules, I’d kept to them.

But there was another rule, one that got passed by word of mouth and rumor-has-it, that spoke of helping those who needed it. Of an injured football player who’d helped an old woman cross the street, and found his injury miraculously healed. Of the girl who fed a stray dog, and found herself in possession of a cereal box that was never empty. Of the kid who’d ignored the pleas of a man with a misspelled cardboard sign on the corner, and had never been seen again.

I took a deep breath. This wasp thing–whatever it was–was a strange thing, like all the other strange things at this university. And when you’re dealing with strange things, the rule goes, you follow all the rules. Which meant no swatting or shoes. It also meant–

“Do you need my help?”

The wasp-thing looked at me with glittering eyes.

Regally, it nodded.

Keep reading

Imagine Hannah seeing you at a party

“Hannah, I love your shirt.”

You said as you made your way over, holding a cup of beer.

“Oh this, uh no yours looks way better even if it’s wet.” She smiled while turning her head and looking down before looking back at you.

“Yeah, Zach Dempsey just spilled his drink on me, and by the smell it’s vodka. If I take my shirt off and ring it out we might get a buzz.” You laughed while pulling at the end of your shirt.

Hannah laughed and took a drink of her luke warm beer.

“Hannah, you wouldn’t maybe wanna ditch this party and go back to my place, my mom’s not home and my dad kinda wants me to be a rebellious daughter for once.”

“Oh sweet bra (y/n)!”

“Fuck off Bryce!” You hollered after Bryce as he make a quick turn around the corner.

“So Hannah what’d ya say? You can crash at my place if you want.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure why not. Wait how much did you have to drink?”

“Absolutely nothing I was just holding this so I looked cooler to you. Anyway I didn’t drive, I walked because I didn’t know if I was gonna drink or not.”

“Okay, cool” Hannah smiled as you both left your cups on the window seal and began your way to your house.

Originally posted by alyciadubnamcarey

anonymous asked:

LEElaAAAA!!! Wake up!!!! NAIL POLISH bsdjawbdhwvdh GLITTER NAIL POLISH !!! DAN!!!

remember on july 4, 2012 at approximately 9:15 BST dan howell was asked in a younow “can you paint your nails” and didn’t miss a beat before pulling a face of unmasked discomfort and saying, “no i’m not gonna do that. i’m not - i’m not - i’m just not comfortable enough with my sexuality to paint my fingernails .. i’m joking, i just don’t wanna do that.” ya that’s the shit that gets my heart buzzing. you can argue with the black nail polish last year that he maybe caved to the pressure of everyone asking him to wear it or he wore it because it suits his aesthetic but now he’s just happily rocking glitter and calling himself soft and sharing it with us on his own terms on his instagram as opposed to sharing through a fan’s m&g pics and that’s so overwhelming to me. he chose to show us this!!!! no one asked him to wear glittery nail polish!!!! he wanted to!!!! where did he even get it!!!!!!!!! i’m so emotional!!!!!!

My mom's boyfriend's slut

So, it started when I was still living at home, in one way. Tim, my mom’s b/f, came home early one day and caught me skipping school. I was a senior and I had the credits necessary to graduate, so I used to duck out of my last period, Foreign History. Who needs that, right? 

So I was home, in just my panties, messing around and watching porn vids on my computer, when Tim came in. I was caught, wet handed, so to speak! Tim knew right away. He could smell my sex as he stared at my panties where I had pulled them back over my cunt, and it was obvious how wet I was. I tried to be cool, but he told me later my face was flushed, and I couldn’t form complete sentences right then! :)  

Tim acted mad at first. He said, “Come over here, Kacey,” so I closed my laptop and walked over to where he stood, putting my hands up over my bare breasts at the last minute. He slapped them away. “Don’t cover them up,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to see them for months.” I dropped my hands and stood, not looking at him. Then he touched one nipple! OMG, it was like an electric shock! I could feel my nipples harden even more than they were, and I started to hyperventilate. I had been sexually active for about 3 years, but now I was scared, for some reason. I think I knew he wanted me, and I couldn’t deny that I thought about him every time I heard him fucking my mom in the other room. 

Slowly, I looked up into his eyes. He was staring at my tits as he gently flicked first one nipple, then the other. He looked into my eyes and said, “they’re beautiful. Why do you always act ashamed of them?“ 

I started to sniffle, like a little girl caught doing something wrong. "Because they’re so small,” I told him, my words catching in my throat. 

He chuckled. I didn’t know whether to cry harder or what, but then he said, “Don’t be ridiculous, Kacey.” His hand covered one breast, then the other moved to cup the other in its warmth. I felt my pussy tingle, and a flow of juice spread into my panties. I felt like I could cum at any second. The tears that I tried to contain fell freely, running down both cheeks. Tim’s hands slid around the sides of my breasts. I raised my arms, letting them pull me to him. He said into my ear, “Shhhhh, I know.” And I felt he did. I tried to tell him that my mom’s were so big and mine were small, but his mouth covered mine mid-sentence, and then we were kissing. 

I knew I was getting wetter, that buzz of pleasure beginning in my tummy and spreading like fire to my loins, but all I wanted to do was kiss him, kiss him for hours. That’s not what he wanted to do, though. As I arched my back into him, one hand dropped to my ass and slid into the back of my panties. I began to climax, shaking in his arms as his hand fondled my young butt cheeks. 

He knew. He held me, still kissing me, as I began to rotate my pelvis against the now-noticeable bulge in his jeans. I knew he was going to fuck me, and I wanted it. I never once thought about my mother, not until it was over. In the meantime, he held me and kissed me and let me rub myself against him, prolonging my climax. Then he picked me up and carried me to my bed. 

Before he fucked me, he asked me if I was okay with this. I couldn’t speak, just nodded my head eagerly, so he took his jeans down and let me see his dick. It was beautiful, a grown man’s dick! I had had lots of boys fuck me, but Tim would be the first man to do it. I pushed my panties down my legs as I stared at it, as he stepped out of his jeans. When he got on the bed beside me, he stared at me as his hands fondled my hips and ass, then pushed my thighs apart. 

I said, “Oh god,” as he rolled over onto me, and it made him pause. “No, no, please,” I whispered quickly, “please do it." 

He toyed with me. "Do what, Kacey?” he teased. His dick was laying across my leg, driving me crazy with lust. I could feel it pulse with need.

I yelled out, “Fuck me! Pleeeease!” My voice finally worked, too well. Tim chuckled again and dropped his weight over me. I felt his hand as he aimed his cock at my wet, needy hole, and then he was in. I was still crying softly, and I started groaned as he filled me with his thickness. It felt so good! 

After a dozen strokes I began to cum again, gripping him with my cunt muscles as he slowed his attack. He was obviously enjoying it. I had my eyes closed against the tears, but I could feel his breath on my face and I knew he was watching me. I gave myself over fully to my orgasm and splayed myself out under him, feeling the sensations ripple through me. I was in heaven! 

Shortly, he gave in, himself. 

( ┊☾ secret ➽ kendall jenner

❝ i could taste the wine on her lips as she kissed me like the dirty secret i was. ❞

“I’m really feeling the steak.” My date mutters to me, his eyes trained on the laminated menu settled in his hands. I simply nodded in answer, a hum softly rumbling through my body as I attempted to make my own decision for my meal of the night, a glass of aged red wine pressed against my lips. 

“Well, if you play your cards well enough, I might be getting some meat tonight as well.” I tease playfully, brazen in my flirtatious devices. I could see the smirk that slowly dawned across his sculpted features like a crown, finally looking up to meet my gaze. That was our game. We often found ourselves in couple like scenarios, classy and confident, knowing damn well whatever expensive dress I wore that night would be found on his apartment floor the morning after. It was the best of both worlds, really. I got the free dinner and the good cock without the emotional attachment, and he got the ride of his life every single week. 

“I think you’ll be starved of it until the very last minute.” He answers nonchalantly, his menu closing as the waiter approaches. Our orders are placed, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a face all too familiar to me. She and her own friends settle in the table beside mine, a covert smile sent my way. I momentarily frown, but nonetheless move on with my night. 

“I don’t think you’d deprive me even if you had to. You’re too kind on me.” The girl on my right quirks a brow while her friends obliviously order a bottle of their finest champagne, and I feel my phone vibrate in my lap. 

“Oh, sorry baby, work text.” I quirk up, pulling my phone from the table to glance at the text I was sent. 

KENDALL: nice boy toy

I have to hold in a satisfied smirk at the text, quickly writing up a reply. It seemed that she wasn’t too fond of him from the look on her face, yet she said nothing aloud. And like a true jack of all trades, boys weren’t the only ones I could play games with. With Kendall, we liked to pretend we didn’t know one another outside the confines of my bed sheets, handcuffs and lace lingerie forgotten. 

ME: nice fishnets.

My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I scanned her endless legs, not wanting to give her body the attention I always did but not being able to help it either. All I could imagine was what was between them, glistening and hot against me. 

KENDALL: what do you say you ditch him for a fat minute? your lipstick might need some reapplication. 

ME: please, you’d be the one getting it all smudged. i’m not ditching my dick appointment to do you a favor. 

KENDALL: then let me give you a solid. i haven’t tasted that pussy in weeks, baby. 

I set my phone down. Engage in conversation with my date, pretend like Kendall isn’t blowing it up, growing more jealous by the minute. The food comes, we eat, we laugh, we flirt. Kendall keeps texting, her phone never leaving her hands. She blames it on her mom, a gig being booked that’s gone awry. Her friends continue to drink their champagne and laugh through the night. 

My body buzzes. The possibility of getting to have two of the best fucks of my life both in one night without either knowing about the other despite their close quarters seemed almost too thrilling to be real. That he’d find out if I snuck off and storm away. That she’d be too upset by the fact I’m still going home with him at the end of the night. 

But I pick up my phone again none the less, because just the thought made my pussy pool with heat. 

ME: bathroom. now. 

I excuse myself from the table, coy smiles and murmurs about powdering my nose made as I quickly rush up and go into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind me. Unlike the typical, there were no stalls; simply one room, large enough for the both of us. 

I settle in the corner, my legs spread and my knees bent, eagerly pushing my panties aside. Just the first contact, the feeling of my cool fingers pressing up against the slick heat of my hot cunt was enough to let a whimper escape. I knew Kendall wouldn’t be in for another five minutes or so, but there was no use in waiting. 

Besides, her seeing me in such a compromising position would only benefit me. 

My fingers tease my cunt, sliding up and down, circling my clit but never actually giving it the true amount of attention it desired, constantly threatening to slide into my aching hole and stretch myself out. 

When she walks in, our gaze meets. She locks the door, not a word said as she makes her way to me. Down on her knees in an instant, eye level. 

“Well, look what we have here…” She mutters curiously, a soft purr.  Before I could answer, our lips connected, sloppy and hungry for fire. I could taste the wine on her lips, a soft moan escaping as my free hand tangled into her hair greedily, tugging at it. 

Our tongues collided, fought for dominance, but Kendall won. She always did. I was far too eager to get my pussy fucked to care much for it. 

“I bet I can fuck you better than that boy toy of yours can.” Kendall speaks against my mouth, her hand finding my cunt. She easily slips two fingers in, gently pumping in and out with no intention to truly fuck me just yet. It’s her appetizer, her tease. She knows nice and slow does very little to actually get me off. 

“Yet you’re not doing a single thing to prove it, are you?” I reply defiantly, egging her own as her lips leave mine to trail kisses down my neck, her berry lipstick staining my flesh. Her dull teeth sink into it, and I gasp, the pain and pleasure hypnotizing. 

“I don’t have to prove a single thing, sweetheart. You already know I’m right. Look how wet this pussy is for me.” She answer, high and cocky. Her speed finally increasing the slightest as she curls her fingers up, hits that sweet spot as I writhe in anticipation. 

“… Please, Kenny.” I whimper, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip while her petite figure slides further down against the floor. Her head is between my legs now, and I can feel her breath against me. 

“As you wish, darling.” Her lips connect with my cunt, circled right around my clit as she sucks on it forcefully. And this is when she goes into full drive. My leg wraps around her head, keeping her trapped as she pleasures me. 

Her fingers go to work, a third slipped in as she began to relentlessly pound into my cunt, stretching me thin while my head tilted back, encouraging moans escaping. 

“Yes, Kenny, just like that.” I whine, my hips bucking sloppily against hers while she sucked and fucked my slutty cunt. The date waiting outside sure knew how to use his cock on me and work his numbers, but Kendall, oh Kendall. She was a natural pussy pleaser, her tongue never failing to surprise me each and every time she went down. 

“You like it, baby?” She asked, knowing just what the answer was. That was one thing about her. She loved the praise she got. 

“So much, I’m so close, baby.” Her fingers curled, pressing up right against my sweet spot. I could feel it bubbling up deep within me, and I wanted nothing more than to feel that mind-blowing sensation; and just as her thumb pressed up against my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, I felt it.

My back arched off the wall and my hips moved sloppily against her hand, a loud moan escaping as I cried out in pleasure. 

“Fuck, Kendall!” 

She fucks me right up until I’m coming down, a satisfied smirk painted on her lips. My chest heaves as I try to steady my breath, looking at her through drooped eyelids. 

When she pulls out of me, she brings her fingers to her lips, sucking up every last drop of my cum from it; far too excited to do so. 

I push myself off the floor, adjust my hair in the mirror, and slowly walk out; back to my date with a smile. 

He’ll never know. 

University/College Au Masterlist

#latteart - imagines

Tiger House looks like it can’t decide if it’s an English pub, a used book store, or a bakery. The only sign that it actually sells coffee is the smell of freshly-roasted beans that hits Otabek when he pushes open the door, a little bell jangling above him. There’s nobody here but a bored-looking barista leaning on the counter by the register. “Can I help you?” the barista says, in a tone that heavily implies he would rather do no such thing.

100 Ways to Say ‘I Love You’ - Kelly_J_Jackson

Every day for the first 100 days of the New Year, I will be posting a drabble for each writing prompt that tumblr p0ck3tf0x created on their list “'100 Ways to Say I Love You’.” It will be mostly Victuuri with some Yurio (and possibly Otabek). It’s going to be a challenge, but I’m going to try my best to update daily. OR They’re a bunch of dorks, really.

admiration in falling asleep - calliopinaround

Rooming with Otabek is fine. It really is—they’re best friends, Otabek is the perfect roommate, and there’s nothing about each other that they don’t already know to make it weird. (Except Yuri hadn’t known that Otabek walks around only in his pajama bottoms in the morning, or what he smells like right out of the shower, or that he likes his coffee with two sugars and nothing else, or that he has a knack for losing the television remote regardless of where he puts it, or that he keeps his keys on his nightstand and nowhere else, or that he opens the blinds half-way first thing in the morning to let the sunrise in…) So it’s fine. It really is. Yuri likes this arrangement, and no matter how many looks Mila gives him, that’s the truth. He just wishes it sounded like all of the truth.

A Gays guide to Surviving College. - CoffeeAndDesperation

Yuuri katsuki, a young mathematics major starting his 2nd year of college, finds himself rooming with an illegally hot Russian linguistics major. While across the hall things heat up between Yuri plisetsky, and his interesting roommate who has a deep passion for writing.

a glass heart, and all its parts - AliFyre

Katsuki Yuuri comes to study in America with the hope that a change of environment will give his mental health the break he needs to finally write that book he’s always wanted. Viktor Nikiforov ended up in America a long time ago and stays there because he can’t think of anywhere better to be, sitting on a novel draft with zero inspiration to finish it. This is the story of how they struggle with themselves and their stories, and how they maybe find love in the process.

All the Warmth of the Sun - pythaglorious

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he could call it a date, but Phichit had set them up, and they were alone. In a bar. And, if Yuuri should consider this a date, there was worse company to be had than Viktor Nikiforov, with his shining silver hair and a baby blue stare that somehow held all the warmth of the sun.

Anatomical Accuracy - Fayina (Dayea)

Yuri has a secret talent in drawing, and he’d be damned if Otabek finds out about his shameful collection of the Kazakh’s portraits. Oh and his skype call with Mila and Sara is getting out of hand.

An eternal bee buzzes in my ear - mozaikmage

AU where the russian characters are international students studying in NYC, and otabek the kazakh guy is the hot waiter at that one russian restaurant they go to every weekend, and anyway don’t look at me 

artistry - lilium_parvum

“The city lights always called to Yuuri. Even as a boy, he dreamed of the neon glow on his face and riding fast, fast, fast down the busy roads. Maybe in a sports car. Or a motorcycle. Perhaps he would just run. He hadn’t worked out the details on that yet. Yuuri dreamed of a whirlwind love, the kind of person with cold eyes and a dark smile, a troubled person with a kind heart. ” In which Phichit’s Instagram leads to Yuuri and Viktor meeting.

A Yellow Highlighter - henriqua

Otayuri Week 2017 Day 7: Soulmates | Too bad Otabek is a people watcher, not a people meeter, and on top of that he’s convinced he would probably live a happier life without meeting a soulmate whose first words to him are rude ones.

Behind Locked Doors - dia_dove

College student Yuuri Katsuki is in love with his professor, Viktor Nikiforov. A love he plans on keeping to himself, until one drunken mistake leads him to a world of pleasure.

centripetal force - braveten

Victor speaks seven languages. (Physics isn’t one of them.) Luckily, though, he ends up rooming with his antithesis: a shy, black-haired boy who just so happens to be a physics major.

Close Quarters - i_like_my_eggs_benedict

Yuri moved thousands of miles away from home in Russia to attend a prestigious performing arts university in the States, gambling that his stupid former rink mate Victor (who also attends) wouldn’t be anywhere near him. Otabek also took a chance by coming to this university so far away from the security of life back home, hoping his future and career will go somewhere. They were both slightly worried about who their roommate would be, but it seems like the guy they were put with just seems to…fit.

Cold Light of Morning - kepitto 

do you believe in soulmates? - foreverhalo

A drabble about Yuri and Otabek in college.

Fragile Hearts - aksnowchild

*Title and Story are subject to change as this is an ongoing story* AU where Yuuri Katsuki is a Japanese college student going to school in America. He studies to become a vet while working at Ice Pets Adoption, which is owned by his friends the Nishigori family. He keeps his life fairly simple, but one day a mysteriously beautiful Russian waltzes into Yuuri’s life and suddenly he experiences something he never has before: attraction.

It Doesn’t Have to be a Lie - Recesskup

Yuuri is not outgoing. That’s why when Phichit supplies Viktor as his fake boyfriend he’s bringing home for Christmas he nearly dies on the spot. And in all Honesty, he’s not quite sure how he managed to convince Viktor Nikiforov to play the role of his pretend boyfriend. And he’s even more at a loss for words when he remembers he has to go along with this for two weeks. Or- The pretend relationship AU where Yuuri is a shy Dance Major and Viktor is the attractive, outgoing Art/Photography Major and Phichit is the worst wingman ever.

Legendary Lovers - rjk122

Leave it to Yuri Plisetsky to humiliate himself and then have the only person on campus that he wanted to avoid also end up being the only person who he sees all the time. And also who never does anything but stare at him. Like, seriously, why is this dude always staring at him? College AU based on a prompt by theappleppielifestyle on tumblr!

Love Like You’ll Never Be Hurt - OurMidnightMuse

(College AU) In high school Yuri Plisetsky was the end of many pranks by his fellow classmates, being a slight in stature ballet dancer. One in particular resulted in Yuri being forably outed as a homosexual in a most humiliating way, causing a rift in who he felt he could trust. Now in college, Yuri is trying to move past all of the things that bothered him in the past, however, they keep on cropping up. At a college party that he was coaxed into attending, Yuri meets the most unlikely of friend; a former ballet classmate whom he had not seen in many years named Otabek Altin. As the two grow closer, Yuri discovers something troubling about his new friend. Could the two possibly help each other through their past and present troubles, or will the blockades in the road cause them to fall apart before they even begin to come together? (TWs will preface each chapter in the beginning notes as they come.)

Match Made By PhichitSociallyAwkwardFox (Maze_Runner_Fae)

Five times Phichit plays matchmaker for his friends and the one time they play matchmaker for him.

Music of Love - mechatitan

“Otabek felt pure panic course through him. What did he do now? He was accidentally intruding on an extremely private moment for this beautiful man he didn’t even know. How did one even address this.
Maybe the best thing would be to just leave as quietly as he could. Otabek watched as the man leaned forward and onto his knees and crumpled in on himself. He knew he couldn’t just leave now.” Or the story in which Otabek accidentally witnesses Yuri dealing with a tragic loss and kinda fucks up.

Never Content - silvershrubbery, Sukiyaki_Rut

“If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.” Or: Mila and Sara end up as roommates their sophomore year of college, but there’s a problematic division among the international dance students that puts them on opposite sides of a war. Despite that Sara can’t deny her crush on Mila, and Mila has a growing appreciation for the quiet but free-spirited Italian. When a scandal ensues, things become more complicated for everyone involved. Alternates between Mila’s and Sara’s perspectives each written by one of us, but you’ll catch on. Also, the ages have been adjusted so Mila and Sara are the same year in college; everything else is pretty much based on canon.

Oh the world is okay - mozaikmage

now with more characters and everyone being friends, yay

On Love: Voice - Pigfarts23

Au where Otabek and Yuri have to collaborate and they compose Agape together. The unholy music/college AU you didn’t ask for but got anyway

poly-A tail - owlinaminor

poly-A tail: a long string of RNA containing only adenine bases, added to the 3’ end of a pre-mRNA transcript to protect it from degradation as it travels through the cytoplasm. when depicted in textbooks, the structure is written as simply a long string of A’s. (or: in which yulia plisetskaya forms a study group, makes a friend, and learns that finals week is about more than taking tests.)

Shape of YouForestfish

Yuri wants to sleep but his neighbour keeps remixing into the wee hours of the morning. (in this AU they’re studying in England and living in the same halls of residence)

Taste of Paradise - Spicenee

With another successful house party under their belt, Yuri wanted to keep the party going with his roommates/boyfriends which wouldn’t be too hard to do. “We were wondering how much we made tonight.” Otabek said. He wrapped an arm around Yuri’s waist, pulling him closer to his chest. “Oh. Right, the money.” Yuri got up, turning so that both Otabek and JJ had a good look at his ass. Yuri reached back in to his back pocket, making sure to stick his ass out. He smirked when he noticed how JJ’s pupils dilated when he ran his hand down the curve of his ass. He slowly pulled out money from one of his back pockets before running his hand along his ass to the other back pocket.

Three Cheers and you Lose.Goddess_Of_Profanity

Yavok Feltsman, a retired NHL coach, is forced into teaching a team of useless, enthusiastic college students. As the hockey team grows closer together, problems develop, and relationships evolve. Will the group be able to hold everything together, or will it all fall apart?

wannabe rockstars and prima ballerinas - thehearsesong

au in which yuuri and viktor both attend columbia college in chicago. viktor is a music major and in a band and yuuri is a ballerina studying at the joffrey ballet academy as well as majoring in dance at columbia. they get paired up together for a project in class and viktor wants to be yuuri’s friend, dammit but yuuri has crippling anxiety basically yuuri gets bullied into supporting vitya’s band, there’s some ballet, phichit is the ultimate wingman as usual, and there’s fluff and college student hijinks

who you gonna call? - apollothyme

“Who would win in a fight between a giant pigeon and Iron Man?” “Yura, it’s four in the morning.”

You Must Be The Roomie - kaitlynsmth

AU where Yuri Plisetsky is a 19 year old social media star/dancer and is at college, and his roommate is in a band with Otabek Altin, who Yuri can’t help but pine over.