how to rag roll your hair

BTS’s reaction to their s/o having a PDA addiction:

💌 requested by @pastelxxwitch (your English isn’t bad at all, sweetie!)

A/N: As I mentioned before, I don’t write NSFW, but hopefully I was able to do this request justice. I made it super fluffy. Hope you enjoy it, loves~ 💖


Jin: You have a problem, you know you do. It’s too much - you always go too far. But when you get the urge to cuddle your boyfriend over a respectable family dinner, it’s not something you can easily dismiss. He’s looking so handsome, serving stew to his mother, sleeves rolled up, shirt damp with sweat and kitchen steam - less like a boyfriend, more like a husband. A husband that needs a barrage of hugging and kissing as punishment for being so drop-dead gorgeous.

As he sits down opposite, you give him a look – the look – to let him know what’s up. He doesn’t get the hint at first, so you inch your toes across the wooden flood until you find his shape under the table, and give his leg a nudge with your foot.

His eyes flicker to yours, brows raised in amusement. You’ve been together long enough to understand what his silent signals mean. Translation: “So, playing footsie is a thing we do now?”

You rub your foot up and down the inside of his calf, smiling at him through half-lidded eyes. Translation: “Yes, it’s a thing we do. Starting now.”

Jin looks you up and down, totally distracted now. You’re winning. Just a little more, and he’ll bend to your will. With one last brush of your toe against his trouser leg he stands up, displacing his glass of water, so that a few drops spot the table. “I just remembered that there’s a bottle of wine I forgot to open. Y/N, come and help me get the wine glasses.”

That’s your cue to leave, following him to the kitchen for an emergency make-out session:

“Was there a reason you desperately needed to disrupt our family dinner?”

“You were looking unfairly handsome,” you reply, “You needed to be punished.”

“With kisses?”

“The worst type of punishment.” You kiss him to prove you mean it.

Originally posted by jinmini


Yoongi: Well, this is new.

Normally, you have to beg Yoongi for hugs in public – pulling on his sweater sleeves, pulling on his hair, pulling on his ragged ends with pleas of “Please, Yoongi. Please.” Then he’d roll his eyes, shuffle closer and drape you in his warmth, with an arm around your shoulder while he mumbled about how embarrassing you are.

But today - today is different. And you certainly aren’t complaining.

Pressing his nose into your neck, pulling you closer, his hands fall around your waist, reaching down until they find leverage in the back pockets of your jeans. Without you asking; without him kicking and screaming and making a fuss about it.

You have to pull back a fraction to check his cheeks, which burn pink, just to make sure this is definitely your boyfriend and not some weird, alien replacement.

“What?” he demands.

You shake your head, and curl your arms around his neck. “Nothing… I just though you didn’t like cuddling in public.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He burrows deeper, pressing his face into the fabric of your shirt. “I call this an emergency.”

“Emergency?”

He nods. “I was running low on hugs.”

Originally posted by leojuseyo


Hoseok: You fidget anxiously. It’s been three hours, fifteen minutes and nine seconds since your last cuddle with Hoseok, and you’re beginning to feel cold already – what you need right now is a hug, or a hand in your hand, anything really, you’re not picky. But in the middle of the supermarket, mid weekly shop, isn’t the best place or time to tackle your boyfriend. Still, his back is looking exceptionally inviting underneath that tight-fitting t-shirt, just asking for you to snatch him up as he stretches up to reach a cereal box on the highest shelf.

As he turns back to toss the box in the shopping trolley, he pauses, eyeing you up and down, and that’s when you realise you’ve been biting your lip all this time, making heart-eyes his way. Not so subtle.

“What?” he asks, although he knows exactly ‘what’.

You press your palms onto the trolley’s handle and push it in his direction so the metal frame bumps against him. “Don’t ‘what?’ me.”

His response is a chuckle. “Is it that bad? You need me that much?”

You nod, and he licks his lips, before glancing up and down the aisle. There’s no one about. A motion of his hand is all the invitation you need to dive into his arms, and drown him in kisses, hidden by the shelves of biscuits and crisps.

Originally posted by itsrapmonster


Namjoon: “Namjoon, I need a hug.” You hold your arms out to your boyfriend.

“What why? Are you feeling okay?” As usual, Namjoon’s brain is spinning with possible reasons for this sudden request. Are you down? Depressed? Feeling lonely or anxious? Whatever it is, Namjoon’s ready to hug it away, even if you are in the middle of the main street.

You just shake your head at his concern, your smile stretching fondly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just love you. And I want a hug.”

That’s all you need to say. Namjoon’s face relaxes, his shoulders sag, and he breathes a sigh of relief. A hug for love’s sake. Of course. In one step, he’s by your side, wrapping his arms around your waist – not because it’s raining in your heart, or the sky above you is crumbling down, or the very fabric of the Earth is fraying. But just because you wanted it.

And you also – “Was that the first time you said that you love me?” he asks.

“I think it was.”

“Well. I love you too.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Originally posted by bangthebae


Jimin: You have a new hobby: embarrassing your boyfriend in front of his friends.

Jimin, who’s normally more snuggly than your bed on a rainy Monday morning, forgets all about your habitual cuddling when he’s with his group, keeping his distance instead, and getting jumpy when you brush against him.

Now that you’ve figured out how much power you possess – with him pleading “please – not so much PDA while I’m around my friends, I need to keep some semblance of my masculinity”, and you cooing back “sure thing, my squishy mochi” – it’s time to wreak some havoc.

The next time you’re at Taehyung’s house, you decide to put your plan in motion, pouncing on Jimin and tackling him to the couch. This should be fun.

“What are you doing?” His cheeks rise a couple of shades of red.

“Just cuddling like we normally do, mochi-wochi,” you purr, settling yourself in his lap.

The other boys burst out laughing at your actions, while Jimin squirms underneath you, trying to wriggle free. But it’s no use. Cuddling is serious business to you, and there’s no way you’re letting him go.

Sighing, he surrenders, and with his masculinity in shreds, he kisses your cheek as a form of peace-keeping. “Alright you win,” he mumbles, “Just, please, no more ‘mochi-wochi’.”

Originally posted by minblush


Taehyung: You and Taehyung are tied together by the heartstrings. You have a connection that you can’t quite explain, and somehow, you both seem to know exactly when the other’s craving touch - feelings so in sync, Taehyung needs you exactly when you need him.

Today is no exception. You’re sitting in a café with Taehyung, smiling stupidly-in-love over ice-cream sundaes, when all of a sudden you need – need – to cuddle with him, or your heart might seize up.

Without a word, without warning, you slip out of your seat, and rounding the table to Taehyung’s side, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He twists his neck to gaze up at you, brown eyes blinking. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I just really needed a hug, all of a sudden.”

“Good, me too.” He grins, and you duck your head down for a kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

With a smooth motion, he slides his chair back, making room for you to sit on his lap, which you’re more than happy to accept, and from this perch you have easy access to his triple-chocolate knickerbocker glory.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Taehyung scoffs, as you lick chocolate sauce off his spoon, “You only like me for my desserts?”

“Opps. Exposed,” you laugh, and Taehyung leans in to peck a stray speck of chocolate from your chin.

When you kiss back again, he shivers below you, body responding before he can control it. Forgetting the café around you, the hustle and bustle of baristas and customers, you and Taehyung melt into each other like the ice-cream in your bowl.

Originally posted by buisually-appealing


Jungkook: Jungkook doesn’t like cuddling in public. It’s something you learnt about him a long time ago, on your first date in fact, sharing secrets with a game of ’20 questions’ - when he said ‘I’m embarrassed to touch in public’ you had almost ended the relationship then and there. How were you – one of the clingiest, touchy-feeliest people on the planet – going to cope with a guy who melted into a blushing pile of mush any time you so much as brushed fingers in public. Even when you got him to hold your hand, murmuring ‘Look, see? No one minds, no one’s looking,’ he’d still stay as stiff as steel, and snap your fingers apart when anyone so much as glanced in your general direction.

Thankfully, you had discovered a way to combat the problem, crafting the perfect date for you and your boyfriend – a public place where you could touch to your heart’s content, without Jungkook shying away from the eyes of disapproving grannies and curious children: a magical place called the cinema.

Seated in the back row, you can share a bag of popcorn and as many kisses as you want, without fear of being watched. With everyone else transfixed on the film, you and Jungkook can devote yourselves to each other. As the movie heroes strike out on quests to discover new lands, you explore new parts of Jungkook, acquainting yourself with every centimetre of exposed skin: cheeks, neck, knuckles, the inside of his wrists, any part he gives. He relaxes in your arms, and watching him unfurl for you is better than any film – he is your masterpiece, better directed that Steven Spielberg. In the dark of the cinema, you fall in love.

Originally posted by aestheticvbts


! I did not make the gifs !

Office Christmas | An AU Bill Skarsgård One Shot

Imagine bill being your co worker but your paths don’t cross because you work in different departments. This all changes when you meet at the office Christmas party

Requested by; anonymous

Tw; mention of anxiety, kissing, light flirting, fluff

Word count; 1312

Here it was again, that time of year where everything was lights, presents, cookies and jingle bells. Christmas was fast approaching, as was the office Christmas party. Every year was the same thing. All workers from every department got together, ate food and drank alcohol in the office that was the largest. Every year people got insanely drunk and made a fool of themselves, whether this be through throwing up, drunkenly breaking something or themselves or simply by getting it on with a co-worker they would never ever see again. Oh how Christmas traditions were fun. Not.

You were sat at your desk, aimlessly typing up email after email and meeting minutes after meeting minutes. Your job was dull and boring, and days went by excruciatingly slow. You would constantly clock watch like your life depended on it, wishing the days away so it would once again be the weekend and you could relax. You saw above your divider that your colleague was coming around with a clipboard, which meant only one thing; she was checking attendance for that night’s Christmas party. You groaned to yourself knowing that you would never get out of going to the damn thing.  

“Well then Y/N, are you coming tonight? Why am I asking of course you are,” she said with a cackle ticking the paper that was on top of her clipboard.

“Wouldn’t miss it…” you said with a fake smile, turning back around to concentrate on your computer screen. You got along with the co-workers in your own office but the idea of having to socialise with people you didn’t know made your anxiety flare up. You hated socialising at the best of times, never mind with people you only saw once a year, if that.

The working day went by as slow as you could have expected. You shut your computer down and headed to the parking lot, throwing your bag onto the back seat.

“See you tonight Y/N!” called your co-worker. You gave them a smile and a little wave before getting into your car and driving back to your apartment. You flung open the front door and threw your bag down on the counter top. You had an hour and a half to shower and get yourself looking presentable enough for a Christmas party. With a sigh, you pulled you hair out of its limp ponytail and stripped yourself of your clothes, leaving them in a line behind you. The hot water ran down your skin, soothing your aching muscles. Who knew sitting straight up right at a computer for nine hours a day could give you such pain?

Your eyes scanned your wardrobe as you stood there in nothing but a towel. Your hands strummed along the edges of your dresses, before settling on a floaty red number with capped sleeves. It had a small but subtle cut out just above the chest. Showing a little can still show a lot you thought to yourself. You pulled it from its hanger and threw it on your bed. Spinning to throw your towel towards a radiator, you opened your underwear draw with your free hand. You pulled out a red lace bra and matching panties, slipping your legs through them and pulling them up. You put on your bra and slipped your dress on over your head. You ragged a brush through your hair and quickly put some make-up on your face, finishing your look with some statement red lips. You grabbed your keys and ran out of your apartment.

You pulled up to your offices, the bass blasting out from the building, you rolled your eyes as you slammed your car door, tottering up to the doors in your heeled boots. As you walked through the doors, some of your colleagues squealed and welcomed you, commenting on how you scrubbed up well or how different you looked not dressed in your drab office wear.

Drinks were flowing and you were starting to slightly enjoy yourself. You walked over to the table where the bottles of alcohol were neatly stacked up. You leant over to pick up a bottle of your favourite cider when your hand clashed with someone else’s. You quickly pulled your hand back and looked up ready to apologise. Your eyes met some wonderfully green orbs, the person who they belonged to smiling down at you.

“Sorry …” you both said at the same time, before laughing at the coincidence. For what felt like a life time, you both stood there just looking at one another, hands remaining frozen in mid-air. You held yours out in front of you, reigning your smile back so you weren’t stood grinning like an idiot.

“Y/N,” you said simply. The man before you took your hand as if to shake it but moved it up towards his lips, placing a kiss to the back of it. Your heart gave a slight flutter. Who still does that?”

“I’m Bill, I work down in IT,” he said, almost shrugging as if he knew his job didn’t spark too much interest. You smiled, not pulling his hand from his, which remained against his chest. The tingling sensation from his kiss running up your arms like an electric shock.

“I work in HR, can’t get any less glamorous than that,” you said with a shy smile.

“I bet you light up the whole room when you enter though,” Bill said in response. This man was so charming he could probably sell snow to someone in the Antarctic. Your eyes met his, a charge running through your entire body. Inside, you were scared. You’d never felt something so instantaneous about a person before. The fear was mixed with raw attraction. He was tall with dark blonde, almost brown hair. His features were soft except for his cheekbones which stood out sharply from his face. To her, he was the definition of perfection.

“Shall we go somewhere and talk?” he said, picking up the bottle you had been aiming for and the bottle he had chosen. You nodded, allowing him to take your hand and lead you to a quieter seating area. He passed your drink and you sat, talking to him for what seemed like hours. You had so much in common. You liked and disliked pretty much the same things. You found out he came from Sweden and a large family, that IT was not what he wanted to do but it paid his rent. He lived not too far from the office and he drove a vintage car.

Time went by and the party started to dwindle down; either people were leaving to go home, or they were passing out in corridors from too much drink. You were still sat next to Bill, except now you were so close to one another there was barely any breathing room. His hand rested on your thigh, just above your knee; high enough to cause electricity but not too evasive. A pause in conversation happened briefly, a period just long enough for Bill to lean in, placing a kiss to your lips. You were taken aback but allowed yourself to kiss him back, your hand rising to land on his etched cheek bones.

Bill slowly pulled back, just far enough so he could look into your eyes, a big smile on his face.

“I’m so happy we knocked hands over the beer table. I’ve not felt something like this for someone I’ve only just met before,”

“Me neither, I’m quite surprised by it …” you said in nothing more than a whisper.

“Want to get out of here? This parties a bit dead now, we should start our own,” Bill said with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Sure,” you said, a grin coming over your face as Bill took your hand and led you away from the office.

(I really really enjoyed writing this AU fluff so if anyone wants a part two please let me know!)

With These Truths

Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Warnings: Smut (That is all this story is.)

Words: 1298

Request: Could you possibly do young Erik Lehnsherr smut?(;

A/N: So sorry to the anon who requested this. It took a long time and I’m sorry for that. But in other news, this thing practically wrote itself. That just goes to show you what I think about when Erik Lehnsherr appears on screen.


The scowl on your face was purposeful, the man in front of you raising a brow in challenge. The soft breeze was the only thing interrupting your stare, stray strands of your hair covering parts of your face. You could feel the scowl fading, your whole body attempting to go against your will. And it was working. The smallest of smiles began to bloom, growing until you were full on laughing. Erik’s beautiful laughter followed, a warm hand resting on your shoulder.

“How the hell did you get so good at staring contests?” You gasped in between laughs.

“One of my many talents,” he smirked, blue eyes shining with mirth.

“And I suppose you’re also a good thumb wrestler,” you replied, rolling your eyes at him as you picked up a cloth, wiping the sweat from your face.

“Not particularly, no.” You shook your head, throwing the dirtied rag at him.

“Oh shut it.” His chuckle was like a blanket, warming you in the cold of the night. And his eyes, you had to hold back a groan as you looked at the orbs that plagued you in one too many pleasurable dreams. And that hair. Your tongue unconsciously darted out to wet your lips, your mind too busy thinking of how badly you wanted to tug at the soft locks, to have the tips tickle your palms as your lips were locked to his utterly delicious lips. 

Unfortunately for you, you’d been staring for too long. He finally caught on, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, only widening as your face heated. “Erik,” you warned, taking a step back at the absolute sinful look marring his features.

“(Y/N),” he growled, teeth shining in the light. You really, really didn’t want to back away from him but he looked so dangerous, so… sexy? This time you didn’t hold back your groan, your thoughts frustrating you more than the downright suggestive look in Erik’s eyes. Or maybe it was his hand rubbing circles over the bare flesh of your arm. 

Wait, when had he gotten that close? You met his gaze tentatively, falling into a dark pit the moment your (Y/E/C) clashed with his blue eyes. Oh, you were lost, so lost; yet you never wanted to come back if it meant he had to take his hands off you. With careful, calculated movements he dropped his full lips to your own, stealing your breath with it. Your mouth moved on its own accord, your mind too busy trying to grasp everything that was happening. 

Eventually you thought “fuck it” choosing to further the kiss with your tongue. It was ice, so very cold, yet still fire, burning your body with the heat of desire. All too soon he pulled away, your skin screaming for contact as he pulled away. However, he didn’t leave you wanting for long, his lips hot against your searing skin, hands tugging roughly at your shirt to work the garment over your head.

“Erik,” you breathed, his teeth grazing over your pulse point, the cool air hitting your skin like a bullet as he threw your shirt to the side.

“(Y/N),” he smirked, tugging your hips closer to his so you could feel his growing desire against your body.

“Fuck,” you muttered lowly, both hand all but ripping his shirt off, your mouth dropping open at the toned expanse of his chest. He took your distraction as an opportunity, pinning you to the wall behind so he could snap open your bra, baring your breasts to him. He gazed hungrily at every bit of naked skin, a finger ghosting over the pert buds. 

You cried out at his soft touch, the need for friction growing with each second. You needed him, dear lord you needed him. Both hands reached out for his belt, whipping it off as fast as they could. Growing impatient with your own ministrations, you cupped him through his trousers, pulling him into a bruising kiss. He returned it with just as much heat, your back scraping painfully against the wall. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, your mind too addled with lust, your heart too far gone in the feel of him. Only it still wasn’t enough. 

The wetness between your legs only further proved your need for him, a strange growl leaving your throat as you unzipped his pants, reaching in to grab his bare length. His calm demeanor fell apart at the feel of your hot hand wrapped around his aching length, his head falling back in pleasure. And didn’t that just strengthen your lust. Your hand moved effortlessly along his length, slicked with his own pre-cum. 

He was keening into each of your touches, his husky voice like a candle in the darkness, powering the light of desire. You couldn’t wait to hear him yell your name at the height of pleasure, hear him repeat it like a prayer as he came down from the high. But your dreams were crushed as he pulled out of your grasp, holding your wrists above your head with one hand. He made easy work of your jeans, throwing it into the scattered pile of clothes lying around. Without warning he plunged a finger into your wet heat, your labored breaths becoming whispers of “Erik” and “more” as he pumped his fingers into you, his thumb pressing ever so softly at your clit. 

You could feel the pleasure build, slowly becoming more and more as his fingers moved faster, your body responding to each touch. You were so close, just a little… you whimpered, his hands pulling out of you before you could hit your high, your body aching painfully for release.

“Erik,” you whined, not caring about the fact that you were begging. You just needed more, needed him. A cheshire smile graced his face, his eyes shining with dark intent. Almost as if he could read your thoughts he slammed into you, his length filling you so painfully yet so pleasurably. He hurt so good as he thrusted into you roughly, giving you no time to adjust to his size. 

He set a ruthless pace, your body straining to keep up with each hard thrust of his hips. You were drowning, Erik your only savior from the dark abyss. And save you he did, his fingers circling your clit roughly, his lips and teeth all over your collarbone as he pushed into you with ruthless abandon. He didn’t seem to mind as your nails dug painfully into his back, your head thrown back and your breathing heavy. His eyes were sin, his body hell, and yet, you found you didn’t ever want to leave. 

Each thrust, each moan, each kiss, was all that was keeping you alive in the world, pushing you towards the edge of pleasure. You screamed his name, your nails drawing blood as you felt the only taste of heaven you’d ever get, your body burning in the heat of hell as he spilled his own release into you. You were on fire, the final thrusts of Erik the only thing keeping you from burning entirely. Each heavy breath brought you back to reality, your heated skin sliding against his own sweaty skin. 

It was glorious and primal and you never wanted anything less, you never expected anything less. And one look into his eyes as he pulled out of your now-soaking heat, his heavy breath intermingling with your own told you that he never did either. With these truths, the two of you would be together. With these truths, the two of you would burn in the fires of pleasure. And finally, with these truths, the two of you would rule your own world; together.

Champion - [BTS] Athlete!Jungkook Au

[A/N] In the midst of SEA Games, I love my national’s swimming team. Welson Sim, you have my heart. Rude ass Jungkook. Boi you’ll catch this hands.

Originally posted by panda-myu

It could be very difficult. It should have been difficult.

He spent years perfecting his skills, mould his body to fit the criteria of an ideal swimmer. And at the very last second of his sure victory, the gold medal is snatched right from his grasp. And nothing hurts more than not being able to bite what you’ve had a taste of. He didn’t have to say it out loud. Jungkook has never lost anything. It was a heavy slap on the face for him. And ever since the fateful match, 500m speed freestyle in Seoul, Jungkook hasn’t been able to relax. He was training, every second of the day, at every chance he get. Butchering himself to ‘work harder’ and push his limits. No time to laze around.

It scared you. The fire in his eyes as he bowed on the starter-platform in tight knee length swim shorts, muscles underneath his skin flexes, and he splashes gracefully into the arena. “Gosh I am so worried.” Sighing about it won’t make it go away. The worrying intensifies everyday, every hour, at every minute you spent around him. You didn’t stay there to watch him beat himself, you were there to make sure he doesn’t kill himself while doing it. “What do I do to stop this. What can I do.” Tilting your chin up a little, you couldn’t even sit on the bleachers. And Taehyung clicks his tongue as he rests his arm over his forehead,laying on his back, trying to get a snooze. He had the white swimming jacket outerwear and the same shorts Jungkook was wearing, wearing a Puma shoe.

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Bite - Park Jimin (vampire!au)

i was watching shadowhunters and thought to myself, “why not write a vampire!au?”

bite - vampire!jimin au :)

word count: 1.2k words 

genre: mostly fluff, with a teensy tiny bit of angst/failed humour 

enjoy!

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

Park Jimin, also known as your beloved boyfriend, was a blood-sucking, blood thirsty vampire. Surprise.

When he first told you on your first anniversary, you thought he was playing a prank. Thinking it was some small joke, you even joked along with him, “Oh yeah? Bite me.” 

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Seaside Supermodels - F!Reader x Prompto

No real warning for this one, just a deliciously smutty photoshoot featuring our favorite shutterbug. Have at it! ;)

Sunlight flittered through the Elm trees above you, their leaves crunching underneath your feet as you joined Prompto in hiking to Cape Caem’s rocky edge. Another project had consumed him in the middle of the night. He was restless, fidgeting in his sleeping bag as all the little details pried his eyes open, unrelenting in their importance and necessity. You were at the forefront of his mind, in a coverup that whipped around your curves at the whim of the fickle beachy winds. You were a beautiful muse, and he loved painting you into the scenery of his thoughts and desires and art. He begged you to join him when you had woken up, eyes still dusted with sleep.

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Born in the Carribean (Hamilton x Reader)

Words: 949

Warnings: Maybe a small mention of blood?

A/N: Kinda having a writer’s block atm, but at least I have a few stories saved :)


You organized the supplies in the medical tent, preparing for the injuries that are guaranteed to occur since the battle began a few hours ago. It was hard to take care of the fallen men, and sometimes women, right after they’ve been shot or stabbed. You were sometimes the last face that they would see, and it hurt to listen to what they wanted to say to the people that they loved. Sometimes, they told you to give a letter to their loved one. Of course, you did it every chance you got a break from the battlefield, to have their souls rest in peace. The other nurses shook their heads at you, saying that you never got a break from the sadness around you. But you ignored their comments, especially the nurses that said you cared about your work more than yourself.

“Y/N! A patient shot in the leg is coming in!” You nodded, preparing a bed for the soldier. Right after you were finished gathering the materials, the man was carried in by two others. You recognized the two of them immediately; John Laurens and Lafayette (he never really told anyone his first name, besides his friends). They looked panicked. You told them to put the man on the bed next to you, and they did what you said immediately. You stared at the man’s injury, and shook your head. The bullet grazed his leg, so it wouldn’t need much besides a few stitches and some antibiotic. You nodded your head at the two men, and they ran out the tent, guns pointed forward.

“Jane, take care next patient that comes in, it’s just a small wound on this one.” She nodded, turning away from you. You sat down next to the man, grabbing a rag, and wetting it with the alcohol. When you placed it on his leg, and he winced, groaning.

“You could have at least given me a warning.” You rolled your eyes, numbing the area around the wound.

“Yea, but what will that do? You’ll still feel the same thing.” You mumbled, beginning your stitch. The man gasped, and you just assumed it was for dramatic affect.

“Y/N?” He whispered. You looked up at the man, confused as to how he knows your name. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, pulled back into a ponytail. His facial hair was neatly groomed, different from the bare face that you grew used to. The only thing that didn’t change was his intelligent, brown eyes. You looked away from him, continuing your sewing. “Come, on, don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”

“I do, Alexander Hamilton.” You stated, finishing his stitch. He touched your arm, and you pulled away, frowning at him. “Don’t touch me.” His eyes looked hurt, and he sighed, staring down. After a few moments, you stood up.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry-”

“Sorry? For what? Leaving me on that stupid little island we used to call home? For saying you’ll come back for me? We were best friends, Alex. And you left me, for, this place. I even tried to send you letters, but you never replied. You pretended like I didn’t exist-”

“No, Y/N. I tried, okay? I tried to send you a letter back, but… I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me ever again.” You held in your anger, tightening your fists. You walked over to another patient, checking his vitals. The bed that Alexander laid on creaked, and you looked over. He was standing on his leg, blood slowly flowing down his leg. You rushed over, pushing him back down.

“Don’t be stupid, the cut will open again.”

He said nothing, staring at your face. You couldn’t help but let the tears fall.

“I missed you, Y/N. I really did.” His voice cracked at seeing your sad expression.

He touched your hand again, and this time, you didn’t push him away. You broke, falling onto the ground. “Alexander, I thought you were dead. When you didn’t reply, I thought you were dead. I didn’t know what to do. What can you do when the only person in the world you care about is gone? So, I decided to come to the colonies, to save lives. Since I couldn’t save yours, I thought I will be able to save theirs.” He pulled you up on the bed, wrapping you in a hug. You shook, the cries coming out. He whispered sweet, calming things to you. After a few minutes, you were fine, pulling out of his arms.

“Tell me why.” You said, wiping the tears off your face. He sat up straight, groaning at his leg.

“When I left without telling you, I thought you hated me. I was being young and stupid, unwilling to live up to how much I hurt you. After this war ended, I was going to go back and get you. I never forgot about you, Y/N. You were always on my mind, no matter what I did. I wanted to make this country safe before I brought you over here. These men, Y/N, they will mess with any woman walking around. I needed to make sure that you would be safe if I left you alone for five minutes.”

You knew he was sincere, watching the tears form in his eyes. You hugged your best friend, He sighed, and you felt the smile form on his face. You pulled back, and punched him in his arm, hard. He hissed, touching the spot. You grinned.

“That’s for making me think you were dead.” He chuckled at you, still rubbing the spot.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one this time.”

Student Council Prez [18.5]

Back to Episode 18
Words: 766

She’s muttering under her breath but really on the verge of bursting out into tears, spiraling into a nervous breakdown, even worse than the time her nails chipped. “I can’t believe this.” Hara huffs out, her heels digging into her skin, feet sore from walking over ten blocks.

“Hey baby girl!” Someone from the corner shouts but she doesn’t pay them any attention, too focused wobbling on her legs. Hara doesn’t even know where she is, completely lost on the streets. “Hey! Whatcha doing tonight?! Don’t ignore me!”

The older stranger suddenly grabs her wrist and she flinches in fear, trying to draw back but his grip is a metal vice. “Wh-what do you want?!” Her voice croaks out in horror, looking around for help but everyone ignores the situation.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“I don’t think so buddy.” Someone interrupts, grabbing onto his shoulder and jerking him back from her. She looks up at her hero with shining eyes until she realizes that it’s-

“Y/N?”

You raise your brow at the stranger, letting go of him. He’s looking at you with wide eyes, ready to fall out of his sockets and he stumbles back. “You know me?”

He stutters incoherently, something about drug dealing that Hara can’t quite make out or understand. “Ah…I don’t do that anymore.” You smirk at him and he slowly backs away, eyes stuck on you until he takes off running for the hills. Your lips release a soft laugh until you turn to Hara. “What are you doing at this part of town? It’s dangerous, you know…”

She scoffs but doesn’t reply, secretly thankful that you’ve saved her. “I got kicked out of my car, alright?” She grumbles but you manage to catch it.

“What?”

Hara crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “That’s just the type of family I’m from. If your parents get irritated with you, they throw you out of the car without even giving you a chance to grab your wallet. I know, very loving…go ahead and make fun of me.”

You frown. “Why would I make fun of you? That sounds fucking awful.”

“I know right.” She rolls her eyes again, feeling a bit better after sharing her tragedies with you.

“Why don’t you call someone?”

“That’s embarrassing.” She says with a ‘hmph’ and you admire her confidence for a moment, how her hair is a ragged mess and her makeup is smudged but she still manages to hold her head up high.

“Want me to call a cab for you?” You dig in your back pocket, grabbing your wallet. “I think I have some mo-”

“That’s even more embarrassing!” Hara stammers out and begins marching away.

Maybe you feel sympathy for her situation or obligated but you catch up to her, making sure she exits the neighborhood safely. Everyone dangerous knows you and your siblings but most importantly, your uncle. If anyone messes with the L/N family, your uncle will sever all narcotic ties with them and everyone he’s connected with, a blacklist; more horrendous of a punishment to the druggies than death itself.

Hara and you walk in silence before she huffs out tiredly. “Don’t you hate my guts?”

“Why?” You look at her curiously.

“I fucking drenched you with a bucket of dirty sewage water!” She shouts, lowering her voice after a few people look her way.

“And I called the cops on you, almost got you framed and put in prison.”

She smirks. “Fine. Fair enough.”

“I’ve always considered us even.” You shrug as the both of you continue walking.

Hara abruptly breaks the silence after a long while. “How’s dating Yoongi?”

“Uh…..” You blink, taken back. “It’s good….?”

She hums. “I see. Are you treating him well?”

“Yes…?”

“Ugh. Trying to talk to you is horrible.” She grunts out and you scoff, smiling a little bit. Hara really wasn’t that bad aside from being a bit rough around the edges. The both of you were just too awkward with each other to have some proper conversation. “Give me the money. I’d rather call a cab than talk to you.”

“Great choice.”

When she’s finally in the taxi, about to be driven off, she pokes her head out the window. She scans you from top to bottom before meeting your eyes again in a smile, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen before. “I’ll consider this a truce. See you around little scholarship student.”

You scoff, waving to her as the cab drives off. It seems like your list of enemies is shortening day by day.

Detective Inspecting is an art.

Summary: After years apart from one another, you and Greg reunite. He’s a detective inspector and you’re an acclaimed artist with a secret. But some secrets can’t be painted over…

A/N: OOHHH DRAMA! I hope you guys enjoy and have a great week! 😁

Warnings: none!

Missed the last part? Find it here

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Chapter 3

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You didn’t know what emotions were flowing through you. You couldn’t be angry with him, it was only natural that he progressed with his life. But a part of you was angry, mainly because he had clearly moved on and you hadn’t.

Greg looked down to his ring before looking up to you “Uh…yeah…” He trailed off and you felt your stomach sink.

“Oh,” you sent him a half convincing smile “Congratulations!” You stood up with paint tubes in your arms.

“Wouldn’t congratulate him too early, he’s divorcing.” Sherlock’s words made your heart almost burst with glee, even though you know it was wrong to fell like that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you sounded sincere enough for Greg to believe that you did feel sorry for him.

You watched your former lover shrug “I don’t know if we’ll go though with it, this always happens.” You felt that sinking feeling again and could barely string out a sentence.

Sherlock noticed and quickly changed the subject “Where’s our room?”

“Oh right!” You placed down the paint on a table and dusted your hands off “Well I didn’t know their would be three of you because Sherlock barely told me a thing but I have a spare room at the end here,” you led the three to the end of the hall “I’ve got two single beds in it. I’ve also got a sofa bed in the living room so one of you can sleep there!” You turned to the three with a smile.

“I don’t mind taking the sofa bed,” Greg chimed. The other two agreed on the settlement.

“So the bathroom is just there,” you pointed to the door with blue paint splats over it. “My room is just at the side of the living area, the kitchen is connected, obviously, it’s open-planned and this room is just for storage.” You pressed your hand against the door with pink and green paint marks over it “So please don’t go in it…”

John and Greg nodded but Sherlock sent you a knowing look. You tried your best to avoid his gaze and suggested that they got some sleep, you were exhausted so you could only imagine how tired they were feeling. John made his way to the bedroom while Greg made his way to the living and kitchen space.

Before you could walk away, Sherlock grabbed your arm “He doesn’t know, does he?”

Your eyes nervously flickered back and fourth from the door behind you, to Greg, to Sherlock “No,” you shook your head “And I’d appreciate it if it remained that way…” You quietly asked and Sherlock nodded in understanding.

You softly shut your eyes and thanked him before making your way to your room “Goodnight!” You called out to them all and smiled to Greg who was standing in front of you, pulling out the sofa bed.

‘Night Greg’ you mouthed to him and he sent you a half smirk and a ‘goodnight’ in return.

You softly shut your room door behind you and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You climbed into bed and let out a small groan. This was going to be a long week, especially now Sherlock had brought along Greg. You wondered if he did that on purpose.

The next morning you were up bright and early and your flat filled with the loud snores of your three guests. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Greg sprawled out on the sofa bed with the sheets half hanging off and his mouth agape. “Some things never change…” You quietly uttered and put on some coffee.

You heard him tossing and turning before eventually waking up with a loud groan “W-what time is it?” He sleepily asked as you passed him a cup of coffee.

“About seven in the morning,” you whispered and sat on the edge of the sofa bed “Sherlock and John are still sleeping.”

“Thanks,” he breathed in the aromatic steam coming from the coffee cup “I need this.”

You sent him a small smile as an awkward silence enrobed the both of you. You cleared your throat “It’s good to see you,” Greg blinked with surprise “Seeing you made me realise how much I actually missed you!” Greg could hear the nervousness in your laugh. He remembered that laugh. You used it right before telling him you dyed his white football strip pink. He smiled to himself at the memory. “What are you smiling at?”

Greg looked up you you, god he missed that soft, sleepy smile of yours “Just reminiscing…” he trailed off.

“Football strip?” You asked as if you had read his mind. He nodded with a light laugh “I’m still really sorry about that!” You took a sip of your hot coffee.

“Yeah but you made it up to me…” you brought the coffee back up slightly remembering that apology. Your cheeks turned pink and silence filled the room again.

Thankfully Sherlock joined the both of you “Morning, he uttered “Tea Y/N.” You rolled your eyes at his demands.

You stood up with a huff “Just because I was nice enough to let you stay with me doesn’t mean I’m your personal maid…” You walked to the kitchen and made him a cup of tea.

“Oh,” Sherlock hummed “That reminds me, while we’re out today can you do my washing?” You turned to him with a gaping mouth.

Narrowing your eyes your picked up a dishtowel and threw it at him “No! I bloody told you before you came here that I’d be painting and organising my pieces for my art exhibition!” You raised your voice at him.

“It’s just art,” he smirked and you playfully pushed his shoulder.

Greg watched the pair of you almost contently, but mainly still in shock that you and Sherlock were related.

“It’s not just art,” Greg surprised himself at his outburst, making you and Sherlock equally as surprised “What you said,” Greg nervously spoke “It’s not 'just art’ it’s Y/N’s art.”

Your heart swelled with happiness while Sherlock let out a huff “Get ready Gideon, we have some murders to solve.”

When the boys left the apartment it felt incredibly empty so you grabbed your paintbrushes and got to work on some pieces for your exhibition.

When you were halfway though painting when your phone rang. With a sigh you picked it up without checking who was calling “Hello?” You held the phone between your shoulder and ear. It allowed you to continue painting.

“Ah Y/N how are you doing? I suspect my little brother is running you ragged?”

You lightly shut your eyes “He’s Sherlock Holmes what do you expect?” You lightly laughed “How are things with you, Mycroft?”

“Oh you know just occupying a minor position in the British government…” he trailed off and you rolled your eyes at his lies and continued to paint “I know he’s there Y/N.”

You forgot to breathe for a few seconds hearing the change in his tone “He is, everything is under control.”

“Is it?” Mycroft asked and you could mentally picture him raising a suspicious brow at you.

You placed your brush down and ran a hand through your hair “Yes, believe me. I’ve kept it from him this long-”

“But it’s different now,” Mycroft cut you off “He is there with you and living with you.”

“She’s not here, she’s staying with a friend for a sleepover. My friend will have her for a few more days…”

Mycroft remained silent for a moment “You can’t keep this from him. Time catches up to us all.”

Shutting your eyes you chewed your bottom lip “Greg is married, he moved on. I kept this from him so he could have a life and achieve his dreams. I didn’t want to be a hindrance.”

“Very well but I’m warning you now…six years has been far too long to keep it from him.”

“Then how do I tell him?!” You exasperatingly snapped “Because if you know an easier way to approach this I’d love it if you enlightened me!”

“There’s only one way to tell him Y/N, tell him like you’re ripping off a plaster.”

You let out a puff of air, realising that Mycroft was right.

“Tell him in one, painful, emotional breath that I have a daughter…”

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7 vintage beauty tips that you should try today

My mom used to try and pawn her old clothes off on me. My reply was always something in line with, “Mother, I wouldn’t wear that tunic from the ‘70s if Grace Coddington herself passed it down to me.”

That is, until mom’s entire wardrobe made an appearance in various updated incarnations at NYFW. Was I surprised? Not really. They say everything old is new again, right?

Mom tends to do that. She takes great pride in passing things down to me, whether it’s an old skirt or beauty tips she abided by in her youth. Despite the advances we’ve made in modern day beauty products, there’s something quaint about tying rags in your hair or using strawberry puree to give your skin new life. 

However, that doesn’t mean I’m willing to try everything or recommend you try it. Charcoal was commonly mixed with petroleum jelly and used as as eyeliner and brow filler, but how much sense does it make to track down charcoal and smear it on your eyes when $3 waterproof eyeliner exists? Nada. 

The upside of vintage beauty tips resides mainly in convenience and cost saving. If your wallet isn’t bursting with Creme de la Mer income, most of these tips are easily accessible and in many cases, already something you have at home. 

So if you’re in the mood to channel Rita Hayworth or you’re just flat broke and still want to look decent, here are some handy vintage beauty tips that still make sense to try today. 

Originally posted by notin-nottingham

Rag rolls

Create curls without heat damage or sleeping on big clunky rollers. Cut up an old piece of fabric so you have 10-15 long strips about 1.5″wide. When your hair is still a little damp, spritz on leave-in conditioner and divide your hair into small sections. Roll up each section using the fabric strips and tie up the ends. I realize how confusing this sounds so here’s an easy to follow Youtube tutorial that even the likes of me can follow.

Originally posted by gypsyastronaut

Beer hair rinse

Women in the pin-up era swore by rinsing their hair in warm, flat beer for extra volume and shine. Have I tried it? No, but I have one lonely bottle of Mill Street Organic I’m willing to donate to this beauty endeavour. Select a hoppier beer for the best results and rinse with cold water following your beer bath. 

Originally posted by uniquevintage1

Baking soda to whiten teeth

Long before Crest Whitestrips, you had good old baking soda to give you a mouthful of pearly whites. It makes sense since baking soda is a mildly abrasive, and is also used to get stains out of clothing. No complicated steps involved in this one, just combine baking soda with water and lemon juice to create a paste and rub or brush onto teeth. Rinse and admire.

Originally posted by nitratediva

Strawberries as a facial cleanser and tint

Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly were proponents of this beauty tip – and who are we to argue with these iconic beauties? Their rationale was that strawberries helped improve the skin’s complexion and luminosity. Smaller pores was also part of the deal. While this beauty tip seems more time consuming than simply purchasing a jug of drugstore facial cleanser and being done with it, it’s an all natural alternative for those who prefer little to no chemicals in their beauty routine. 

Originally posted by chungskings

Mint leaves/cucumber/rose water for dark undereye circles

Dark circles have plagued women for as long as we’ve been concerned with appearances. Women used to crush mint leaves and apply it to their eyes and watch dark circles disappear. Cucumber is another solution that’s well known to us. Rose water has many beneficial properties but its calming effect on skin is probably why most people use it. It’s been known to banish redness and puffiness and leaves a lovely scent behind. 

Originally posted by theglossdotcom

Cold cream

Cold cream still exists – but you’d never know it. It seemed to disappear into oblivion, replaced by a million different potions. Some promise to cure acne, dark circles and redness while others claim to turn back time. Cold cream was used for a variety of purposes back then and I’d be curious to see if it makes a comeback. Sometimes, paring things down, including your beauty routine is all your skin really needs. 

Originally posted by nitratediva

The benefits of a little ice water

If American actress, Joan Crawford was your grandmother, she’d probably tell you to splash ice water on your face every morning to maintain a perfect visage. Supposedly, a little facial ice bath will constrict the opening of pores and reduce any redness on your skin. 

My Hero

The guy who lived across the hall was hot.  Like, really really smokin hot.  To pretend otherwise would have been ridiculous and although you had shared a few smiles in the hallway you hadn’t even exchanged names.  He was just ‘the incredibly gorgeous guy across the hall’ of T.I.G.G.A.H as you had taken to referring to him.  It was late one morning when you were struggling under the weight of your grocery bags that a warm Brooklyn accent invaded your thoughts. “Need a hand?” looking up your had to remind yourself to breath as your eyes met his stormy grey ones and all you could manage was a small nod of your head.  He took your bags at once, lifting them as if your weekly food shop consisted of nothing but candyfloss.  He walked you to your door where you fumbled with your keys, silently cursing yourself for not being more verbally adept.  

“Thank you.” You finally managed to say as you opened the door.  “Bring them in and I’ll make you a coffee, that is unless you have other damsels in distress to be saving.”  This earned you a low chuckle and your heart felt as if it were bounding around your chest in search of an escape route.

“I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky.” he smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, an action which caused him to suddenly look a lot younger.  

“It’s nice to meet you Bucky.  I’m…” but before your name could leave your lips Captain freaking America burst through your window. 

“Buck, they’re here, we’ve gotta get you outta here!” Buckys brow furrowed and all of you turned to look at the door as the sound of wood splintering rang out from across the hall.  It was only a matter of time before whoever that was realised Bucky wasn’t there and started smashing down other doors.  He looked across at you, his jaw set. 

“I’m going nowhere Steve.  Let them come for me.  Nobody else is getting hurt because of me.”  You could see the pain in his eyes and the frustration on Steve Rogers (OH MY GOD STEVE ROGERS IS STANDING IN MY LIVING ROOM IN FULL ON CAP SUIT!!!) was evident even before he let out a sigh.  

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get down and stay down.” His tone was authoritative and you automatically looked around for a safeish place to ‘get down’.  As you moved your front door crashed off it’s hinges and masked men stormed in with very heavy weaponry.  ‘‘Well there goes my security deposit.’ crossed your mind as Bucky grabbed you and shoved you behind him, bullets ricocheting off his arm which you would have thought was odd was it not for the gunmen shooting at you.  Spinning you around Steve placed himself between you and another barrage of gunfire, the bullets sounding like rainfall on a tin roof from behind the safety of his shield.  The pair fought bravely, pulling and pushing you out of harms way but never leaving you for a moment.  It became clear that the building had been taken and there was only one course of action.  Bucky and Steve exchanged glances before Buck turned to look at you.

“Do you trust me?” he asked earnestly, knowing all this was not helping his chances of getting your name let alone securing a date with you.  Taking one look into his eyes you nodded only for him to turn and jump out of the goddamned window! Standing there slack jawed you felt Steve’s arm wrap around you as he lifted you like a rag doll.  Still taking heavy fire he moved back towards the window, took a quick glance out before he THREW YOU OUT OF THE WINDOW!!  The cool air whipped through your hair and around your body as a silent scream of terror ripped from you.  So this is how you died, Captain America threw you out of a ten storey window, you had never seen that coming.  Suddenly, two strong arms had you and you were rolling across a neighbouring rooftop.  As you came to a halt you looked up to see that your TIGGAH had caught you and pulled you to safety.  “I want you to go someplace safe, they will come after me so you go the opposite way okay?”  You knew he was right but you feared if you left him now you may never see him again.  An idea sprang to your mind and you furrowed your brow.  

“What if they come for me knowing I know you?  Maybe we should exchange numbers then if I think they are coming for me you can come rescue me again.” Looking up at him your face was a picture of innocence and his face split into a huge grin as he handed you his cell phone.  As you exchanged numbers Steve’s feet hit the rooftop and he sprinted passed you.  

“I really gotta go.”  Bucky tucked your hair behind your ear and took one last look at you.  “I will call ya.” 

for @iwillbeinmynest

Hair Update

Hey Hey Hey! Sidney here, updating you all on my hair routine because I have so many projects to work on for school and I thought this would be the perfect time to ignore everything and be on tumblr. Of course. So let’s just get into it. A lot has changed, which is why I haven’t really been answering hair questions..I was still trying to figure out things for myself! Ok, lets go:

First things first: Wash! I wash my hair once a week in the morning with this stuff. I get it from target. super cheap and you get a whole lot of product! It’s great. For those of you that aren’t familiar with co-washing: it’s basically one part shampoo, two parts conditioner. So, while you are washing your hair, you’re doing more moisturizing than anything. That’s what your hair needs! moisture! Traditional shampoos just strip all of the natural oils from your hair and that’s totally no bueno. (if you have a problem with frizz, this could be your answer) 

Now, since I only wash my hair once a week, and you’re supposed to deep condition once a week, that’s what I do! Ok..I’ve raved about this product a million times…but this will seriously transform your hair. I just….I just can’t. Trust me. You’ll love it. While my hair is eating up the goodness of this product ill detangle it with a wide tooth comb or just with my fingers. 

You better not reach for a regular bath towel!!! No No No! That thing is horrible for split ends! Invest in a microfiber towel just for your hair. Actually, It’s so soft that I picked up a few more for my face. You never want to be too rough on your hair or face right?! Right. I don’t dry my hair completely because the products that I use work better with wet hair. I just keep it so my hair does’t drip everywhere. 

Once I’m out the shower, I give my hair an extra detangling. For one, this product gives my hair a lot of moisture. Mostly, it creates a lot of slip, which keeps my hair detangled (for the time being) and helps to make sure that all of my products go on too my hair evenly. I get this from target. 

This product right here is my baby. Curl and style milk. I can never live with out it. I give my hair a generous amount of this. Locks in moisture and curl. Perfect. Target….duh.  

Bang Bang. Moving on to the smoothie. I pretty much treat this in the same way that I do the milk in the previous step. I give my hair a pretty generous amount…but not as much as the milk…if that makes sense to you. Le Target. 

This is next! haha. I actually just started using this but I think I like it so far. It really does give my hair a nice shine and makes it look healthier than what it is. I never use a lot though because if you use too much it can get a little oily. Just lightly coat your hair with this and that’s it! (I mean, that’s it for this product..there’s still more to go haha)  Target, again. 

You just put all that moisturizing yummy stuff in your hair and now you have to make sure that it stays like that! Lock it in there good! I used to use the Kinky Kurly Custard..and it was great. But it was getting too expensive for a small amount of product so I went searching for an alternative. This guy works just as well! The one thing that I love is that I haven’t ever reached a point of “using too much” of this product on my hair. With the Kinky Kurly product, I had to be suuuuper careful because that stuff can make my hair rock hard in a split second. But I find that with this Gel souffle, no matter how much I use, I always come out with a soft, strong hold on my curls. It’s lovely. From target! 

After this, give your hair some time to suck up all of this product. I usually wait for about an hour. That’s just enough time for me to do my make up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and make my lunch. 

Once I’ve waited for about an hour, I diffuse my hair. Now…I ran away from this device for a while because I thought it just gave my hair frizz. but that waiting an hour before you diffuse your hair thing is wonderful. It changes lives. I don’t like to diffuse all the way though. Just about until my hair is 60-70% dry. Then I’ll just let the rest air dry for the rest of the day. Since I live in Houston and I like big hair, the humidity works in my favor. Basically I diffuse to help lock in the curl more before I step out into the real world. Target, always. 

Then, mid-day, I’ll pull out my pick from my purse of wherever and start going at it! (your hair should be 100% dry by now) This creates even more volume! I always have my pick on me for quick lifts, if I feel like I need it. I stole this from my dad haha. I’m sure you can get this at a beauty supply store. Or that “Ethic hair” section in grocery stores.

Eventually night time will roll around and you have to figure out how to sleep and not ruin your masterpiece. I picked up this do-rag hair bag thingy from my local beauty supply store. It’s really just a satin bag, haha. I just put my hair in this thingy every night to keep my curl in place throughout the week. I also sleep on a satin pillow for extra protection (incase this thing falls of) but I guess if you’re wearing this, that can be totally optional.  

After this intensive wash day, for days 2-7ish I’ll just touch up with either the milk, smoothie, or gel souffle. For my hair though, touch ups aren’t really needed until day 4. 

And that’s it! I hope I answered all of the dying questions. If there are any more, feel free to shoot me a message. I’m so tired now though…long ass post haha. 

anonymous asked:

How about harry being a cuddly little baby when he comes back from tour cause he missed you so much? And you have to get to work but Harry is all warm cozy under the covers, raspy voice from sleeping and the fact that the tour just ended, and all he wants is to catch up on all the hours he missed xx

I LOVE THIS, cuddle Harry my forte. Thankyou for being one of my first prompts x 

*****

It was 7 o clock when you woke up, not from your alarm -  which was set for half past, but from Harry, who was not so quietly stomping around the room, fresh back from a long haul flight and the final leg of tour. 

Harry was not trying to be quiet, he was groggy and exhausted, and slightly selfishly wanted nothing more to be nuzzled and tickled gently into the sleep that the turbulent plane hadn’t permitted him. He made poignant kerfuffle dragging his suitcase into the bedroom, which had done the trick. 

“Mornin’” He coo’ed as you sat up, he couldn’t help but smile outrageously as he stripped off his uncomfortable jeans, his shoes he had already abandoned in the hallway prior to this. 

Your vision still wasn’t cleared from sleep, it had been seconds since he’d disturbed you, you felt him engulf you instantly, he hadn’t even bothered to shove the duvet back, his entirety flopped across you like some kind of rag doll, his hair tickled your neck, which enticed you to move as soon you would be at loss of breath. 

“Mnggh y’crushing me ” You croaked, sleep clogged your throat. He grinned, kissing the tip of your nose over-zealously before rolling off you and clambering into the bed with every ounce of energy he had left. He draped an arm and a leg over you again, with a pitiful whimper, expression of how happy he was to be home, in a bed that smelled like the dry down of your perfume and sharing your shampoo traced pillow. 

“I… missed… you… so… much” He placed a kiss to the hollow of your throat with every word spent. His lips on your neck never failed to get you some kind of crazy, you arched your back a little to further offer your neck. 

“You too” You sighed blissfully, running a warm hand up his t-shirt to scratch the firm yet just soft enough skin of his belly, which you loved too much, the feeling of which he loved also, he just wasn’t so keen on looking at his tiny pudge any other time. That was the reason you supposed you loved it so much. 

“Love on me” He whined, his voice cracked instantly, dropping kisses on every exposed bit of your face and pressing himself to you needily. 

“I’m sleepy..” You giggled, actually waking up a little now, enough at least to kiss him back, running the back of your free hand along his jaw, where dark stubble was surfacing from his 24 hour travels. 

“Shave first” you joked but he stuck his lip out immediately. You shook your head and kissed him again, you could not resist him pining for you like this but you had work.

“Wher’re you going?!” He yelped horrified as you went to move away from him, as if it wasn’t hard enough already. 

“Work.. Harry? It’s a work day” You said, tucking a curl behind his ear as he looked at you pitifully, propped up on his elbows. 

“Nooo..” Harry growled, grabbing your waist and sending you back under with him, he held you like a 4 year old and his teddy.

“I gotta” You tried to protest but he was not letting you go

“Oh! Are ya feelin’ okay? Baby… I think… you have a fever? Jesus you’re burning up!” He feigned horror, holding his huge palm over your forehead but it was so big it also covered your eyes as you struggled beneath him. 

“Ah wha- no, I’m fine” You were utterly confused. 

“No way you’re sick my love, I’m callin’ you in poorly” He grabbed your phone in a sudden second wind of energy and ran into the bathroom to call your manager. Today you were having a sick day and every CM of you was his. 

You Missed a Spot

He would recognize her butt anywhere.

Anywhere.

It didn’t matter if it was the middle of a crowd of butts, he would find her but in an instant. So, to see her crawling underneath the desk in his study, it was a little surprising. Dick lifted an eyebrow and leaned against the wall, watching the hem of her dress ride up just a little, exposing the bare edge of her plain, cotton panties. Raven, ever practical and predictable.

Keep reading

Flowers and First Loves

Jungkook X Reader Fluff
You meet Jungkook in a flower shop.
Word count:1,679

Hey guys! So I wrote a thing and I wanted to share it with y’all. I’m a bit new to the whole writing scene so if you have any comments/suggestions I would love to hear them! I have a part 2 in my mind already so expect that at some point. Xx -3-


Your fingertips run along the delicate petals of the white Lilies in front of you. You had always loved Lilies. There was just something so smooth and elegant about them. You start to lose touch with the world around you as stare at the flowers only to hear your name being called from somewhere on the other side of the shop.

You look up and take in your surroundings once again. Your grandmother’s birthday was in a few days, so you and your mom had gone out to buy her a gift and somehow wound up in a quaint little flower shop. You don’t know why you had never noticed it before. You had been passing it on your way to school for years.

“Y/n!” You hear your mother call again. “Come here for a second.”

“Coming.” You sigh as you make your way to the main counter at the back of the shop.

When you get there you see your mother looking at two different bouquets. One was filled with colorful Tulips and Peruvian Lilies. The other with pale pink Peonies and white Roses.

“Which do you think she would like better?” She asks, not bothering to look away from the two flower arrangements.

“Who, Grams? Um…” You study the flowers for a moment. “I think that one.” You say as you point to the white Roses. “She would like those, but I feel like there’s something missing.”

“I wanted to put Lilies in it but my mother here wouldn’t let me.” A deep yet boyish voice chuckles.

You look up to see a dark haired young man, about your age, coming from what you would assume was the back room, carrying a large bucket of Daisies and a roll of brown wrapping paper. He hands the older woman behind the counter the paper before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Ah she must be his mother.

You catch yourself staring at the boy for a few moments before shaking yourself out of it and clearing your throat.

“Is that all you need?” You ask, looking over at your mom.

“Yep.” She nods. “Thanks for your help.”

“Mhm. I’m going to go look around some more.” And with that you turn around and walk back towards to center of the shop.

As you make your way through the flowers you inhale deeply, taking in the scent of the air. If you closed your eyes it almost felt like you were standing in the middle of a meadow in the springtime. You found yourself stopping at the Lilies again, just staring at them.

“Do you need any help?” You hear a familiar voice say.

You look up to see the dark haired boy standing a few feet away, his feet fidgeting and his hands playing with the pair of gardening gloves he was holding.

“Oh um…uh no I’m just looking around.” You stutter, looking at the floor.

“Oh right. Um okay. Sorry to bother you.” The boy says quickly before turning to leave.

“If it’s any consolation I think Lilies would have looked very nice in the bouquet.” You blurt out, not wanting the boy to go.

He turns around and smiles at you before rubbing the back of his neck and taking a few steps towards you.

“Thanks. You know, out of all of the flowers we grow here I think Lilies are probably my favorite.” He chuckles as he reaches out and touches one of the petals.

“Really? Lilies are my favorite flower too.” You smile. “There’s just something about them that I’ve always been drawn to.”

“Yeah me too.” The boy says quietly before trying to steal a glance at you. “I’m…uh…I’m Jungkook by the way.” He says a bit louder, trying to end the lull in the conversation.

“Oh I’m Y/n.” You smile as you tuck your hair behind you ear and look up at him.

“Well Y/n, would you maybe want to–“

“Come on Y/n! Let’s get going!” You mother calls, interrupting Jungkook.

“I guess that’s my cue to go.” You sigh as you roll your eyes. “I suppose this is goodbye.” And with that you turn to leave, giving Jungkook a nod and a wave.

“Wait!” You hear him stammer and turn around to find him pulling a Lily out of the bucket before handing it to you. “I’ll see you around I guess.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck once again.

“Yeah, see you around.” You blush. “Thanks for this.” You mutter, motioning to the flower.

“Yeah no problem.” Jungkook chuckles as he backs up a bit, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Bye then.” He waves before turning around and quickly walking back to the counter, hoping that you couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks.

As you walk out of the shop your mother notices the flower in your hand.

“What’s that?”

“It’s nothing!” You say quickly, hiding the flower behind your back.

“Alrighty then.” She responds, laughing slightly under her breath as you two head back to the car.


The next morning started like any normal morning. You woke up, took a shower, got dressed and headed out the door, giving your mother a quick kiss on the cheek. 

As soon as your feet hit the pavement you move at a quick pace down the street. It wasn’t that you were in a hurry. You were actually quite early this morning. You just weren’t one for leisurely strolls.

A few minutes later you find yourself walking into a local coffee shop a few blocks away from your house. You had been a frequent visitor there since freshman year when you first started passing it on your way to school.

“Morning, Y/n!” A voice rings out.

You turn towards the counter to see a smiling young man, about your age maybe a bit older, waving at you. He was wearing a dark pair of large glasses and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His red hair became a bit disheveled as he ran his fingers through it then wiped his hands on the rag over his shoulder.

“Hey, Jimin!” You answer back with a smile. “How are you this morning?”

“Oh I’m swell.” He replied, a little smile tugging at his lips. “But you know, the more early mornings I have, the more I realize I’m really just not a morning person.”

You let out a soft chuckle and nod your head in agreement.

“You and me both.” You sigh. “I would love to just sleep in all morning.”

You straighten up from your spot against the counter as Jimin puts the lid on your drink.

“But sadly life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to.” He mutters.

He slides the drink over to you as you fish out a few bills from your pocket and leave them on the counter.

“Thanks for the coffee, Chim.” You say as you turn to leave.

“Yeah no problem.” He smiles. “I’ll see ya tomorrow morning.”

You continue down the street, drink it hand, when you feel a buzz from your phone. You pull it out of your pocket to see Jimin’s name on the screen along with the notification for one unread message.

“What does he want now?” You giggle to yourself as you open the text.

From: Chim Chim :P

Uh hey Y/n. There was actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Would you maybe wanna—

Suddenly you phone flies out of your hands as you run into someone. You both fall to the ground as whatever each of you were holding does as well. The two of you stand up and begin to dust yourselves off when the other person speaks.

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice rings out.

You quickly turn around to see who the voice belongs to, though you were already pretty confident you knew.

“J-Jungkook?” You stutter.

Of course you had to run into him. A boy finally takes interest in you and you go and mess it up by knocking him off his feet. Literally. As you look up you notice you’re standing in front of the flower shop from yesterday.

“You know I think this is fate telling us that we should really get to know each other better.” He laughs lightly before reaching his hand out and pulling a few flower petals from your hair.

You both blush as he looks down at his feet, noticing a rather disheveled looking phone on the ground.

“Oh man.” He mutters, leaning down and grabbing it. “You phone looks pretty beat up.”

He tries to turn it on several times but with no success.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, a hint of panic in his voice. “I’ll give you some money to get a new one.”

“No no it’s fine.” You protest. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

You take the phone from his hand and slide it into your pocket, hoping your mom won’t be too mad when she sees it. That’s when you notice the flowers strewn all over the ground.

“Oh my gosh! H-Here let me help you pick these up.” You stammer, bending down and picking up a few flowers.

“No no no it’s totally cool. I got this.” Jungkook says with a smile, grabbing your shoulder.

“At lease let me pay for the damaged ones.” You sigh, standing up and facing him.

“Tell you what,” He states, leaning down and grabbing a rose off the ground. “How about you stop by on your way to school with coffee in the mornings and we’ll call it good.”

You giggle, suddenly feeling a slight blush rise to your cheeks as you nod.

“I think that sounds fair.”

“Great! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then beautiful.” He winks, handing you the flower.

He then turns around and heads into the shop.

“See you tomorrow.” You whisper, smiling to yourself as you continue your walk to school.

Part 2 Part 3

"It's In The Music" - Michael Clifford Smut

    “Do you remember?” The purple headed boy sang into the microphone with no air of insecurity. His muscle tank displayed the logo for Jack Daniels and his spiked up locks were ribboned with a makeshift hair accessory. Looking closer you could see it was his classmate’s tie. 

“The 21st night of September?” The maybe-twenty-year-old sang on with impressive strength in his gritty voice. You could tell he had musical experience with his on point tempo and ability to stay in pocket.

He was cute. Massive doe-like eyes framed by thick eyebrows and lips puffy and pink. His thighs flexed noticeably in his black skinny jeans under the dusty spotlight, legs bracing the floor dramatically to strike a pose. His high note was for comedy, the way he scrunched his nose and pointed his fingers to the ceiling. But as you wiped the bar down, your tips in the waistband of your black skirt, you caught the raw power in this kid’s pipes. 

    “Not bad, ey?” Jess, your fellow bartender winked at you and bit her lip as she returned to watching purple boy. You can’t help but roll your eyes at how shameless your friend is. 

“Good. But young. Jess…we were learning to ride our bikes when he was born,” you tell her, laying a fresh rag to rest on your shoulder while collecting empty glasses. 

    “Oh please, what’s five years matter when I can tell this guy could fuck like an animal…” Jess drawled in her southern accent, fingers twirling her blonde hair. 

“Like a real man…”

“Jess!” You scolded, face revealing just how scandalized you felt. The fraternity guys at the end of the bar overheard of fucking course, casting you two cocky looks. 

    As Jess giggled indulgently, you tilted your head to the boys and just shook your head no. 

“Been there, done that…” You whispered to yourself after they got up to go bother freshman girls. 

“My thoughts are with you,” Jack Daniels (that’s what you decided to call him), was now bouncing along the stage in a Jagger-esque energy. Girls were throwing their hands into the air excitedly, whispering to their friends with flushed cheeks and mischievous eyes. You smirked and took note of how closely the end of your shift was approaching. 

    Daniels was finished and sweaty after his performance, walking to the counter you were cleaning again, looking thirsty. Those ultra pink lips parted for more air. And when he looked up at you and stopped walking for a moment, you didn’t exactly look away. You did encourage him to come closer because a customer was a customer and tips were tips. If he couldn’t drink, and by the looks of it that was likely, he could get a coke or something. Your rent was due soon and your car wasn’t getting any newer. 

    “Come on Mick Jagger, show me your I.D. and we can get you fixed right up,” You smiled, fingers drawing him in, hooking the air between you two.

    Something nervous and unsure flashed across purple boy’s face, but it was so brief and so utterly replaced by a confident grin that it slipped from your mind like shower water. God you wanted a shower. Just seeing the perverted and absolutely amateur stares of all the college boys left a sticky residue on your skin. Or maybe that was the tequila on the wood. 

    “Mick Jagger?” the boy’s accent craned you out of your self pity like an arcade game you never won as a kid. His voice was so deep, throaty. Speaking to you now you detected the Australian lilt. Looking up you saw his cheeks form a wide smile, teeth white and quite beautiful. This boy with purple hair looked so young but had a talking voice that had you standing as still as Jess next to you. 

    “Yeah, I saw your moves on that stage, and my father raised me on The Stones so…I know a proper Jagger gait when I see one. Now come on, I.D.” You said with a flick of your wrist and a snap of your fingers. Nails painted black. Jagger just looked so overjoyed listening to every word you said. What was with this kid? 

    “Okay, yeah, okay,” He said and slid his fingers into his back pocket, pulling out a card and handing it over. You smiled at him, being cordial but not more polite than needed, and looked down. 

    “Robert Bonfante?” You inquired, voice flat as you looked back at him. 

    “Mmhmm,” the boy nodded with his hands tucked behind his back, looking like a child who’d just scribbled crayon all over the walls. 

“Mmm…okay,” you popped your lips and peered to the I.D. once again. 

“Says here you’re twenty five, from Wyoming, organ donor,”

“I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I’ve just always been this charitable,” the kid held his chest with one hand, hip with the other. His eyes were spilling out everything you needed to know. He was full of shit. 

Rolling your eyes and taking a deep breath, you handed him back the I.D. 

“Look, Mr. Bonfante, I’m going to go easy on you and not take that fake ass I.D. and cut it in half,” you started.

The boy blinked and his smile dropped instantly.

"There is no way in hell that you’re a year older than me. I was wearing shirts with alcohol companies on them when I was nineteen too,” and the look on his face is confusing because you can’t read it. You could always tell what freshman college boys were thinking. But his crooked grin and the glowing glint in his eyes sure didn’t say “disappointed”; you didn’t know what it said. 

And that got your attention. For real, this time. 

    “Well, thank you, Miss…” Jagger held up his hand expectantly, clearly wanting your name. The puzzle around this boy was the uncharacteristic push to get you to tell. 

“Eliza…” you confessed, tone sounding the confusion you felt as to why you were telling this stranger your name. Jess just looked the boy’s body up and down appreciatively, nudging you like the little shit she was. You loved her. 

“And I’m Michael, Clifford. Which…I mean, it’s better than Robert Bonfante, am I right?” he chuckled and scratched at the tie around his head, arm muscles flexed. 

    “Get outta here, Clifford, before I call security,” you shook your head but all be damned if you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your burgundy painted lips. 

With a goodbye tap to the bar top and a not so subtle wink, Michael left with his classmate calling after him for his tie back. Jess was whistling low to herself and mumbling explicit things. You were tonguing at your cheek and just thinking…

Why did he make you feel hot?

***

    Michael kept coming back to the bar after that. Never tried to get a drink, just sang. He was killer at Aerosmith, a star with Heart, and made you laugh so hard one night you almost fell over with a cover of “Toxic” by Britney. You used to hate your job but since Michael came to sing, you didn’t. It seemed simple until you could no longer deny how you felt. 

    When Michael shared his sandwiches with you during your breaks and became Mikey to you, it was a crush. A small crush that you and Jess had tried to rationalize as a mere fantasy. Something to daydream about but never act on. You were twenty four and Michael was nineteen. Not illegal but definitely new territory for you. 

    “You’re fucking gorgeous,” Michael whispered to you as you wiped down the bar one slow night. Business dismal. Your head whipped up so fast you felt a twinge in your neck.

“Ah, shit,” you groaned at your stupidity. Mikey sat up straighter and the next thing you knew, his hands were massaging the hurt muscle. They were so strong, fingers calloused. His nails ghosting across the nape of your neck. The hairs stood on end as you peeked up at him. “Michael…” you said softly, cautious. 

    “You hurt yourself, Ellie…” Mikey breathed, leaned forward. The bar was empty save for you two. The flickering bulb you never got around to fixing finally petering the fuck out. Michael’s breathing was as uneven as yours. Dark, it was so fucking dark and the the right strap of your cami fell to your bicep. You could just make out Michael’s nearing outline. 

    A kiss from any other boy or grown man wouldn’t make your knees buckle. Or your temples tingle. Your chest snatch your ribcage up into your lungs. Not with the way this boy was built. This young man. Michael’s guitar worked fingertips drew a path through your hair, sloping up and undoing the ponytail completely. He actually crawled over the bar top and you would tease if your thighs weren’t clenched so hard. So heated. 

    Heavy breathing was the reminder of what this boy did to you that you’d never quite felt with anyone else. His tongue was orchestrating tastes and swirls of desire you didn’t know could be felt or experienced. You met Michael the young man, a striped tie around his bright plum hair and adorably flaring nostrils…but now you were being felt up by Michael fucking Clifford who knew exactly what he was doing. 

    “I think I need you, like…as more than a friend,” and Mikey’s words could be taken from a high school campus but his massive hands surging into your skirt and gripping the thickest part of your upper thighs rang loud in your ears. 

I’m a fucking man.

    And you couldn’t take a breath without murmuring “Yes, fucking yes Michael,” and let him take you home. 

He fucked you first against the fridge in his dodgy apartment, roommate gone. Again into the mattress so powerfully the room spun like the vinyl he had playing. 

His cock was the largest you’d taken and belonged to the first boy you’d ever call “Daddy.” He was stronger than you ever thought and had a roughness that made you wake the neighbors. 

    And fuck if it wasn’t so damn incredible that with every swish of your skirt you remembered his whispers and loud orders of “Say my name.”

    Because fuck, with each slide of your thighs and rub of the cotton against your nipples you heard Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” drift in and out of the reality that was you and Michael. 

And that’s how you two got together.

 ***

A year later and Michael was a sophomore in college, riding his studies hard and letting you in on all of his little bits and pieces. He was gentle. Loved watching movies with candles lit and popcorn on your laps. Dog-earing paper back books and buying you your favorite shampoo. You knew about the car crash he got into when he was thirteen and his fear of heights. He knew about your parent’s bad split and your fear of missing out. You were both gentle and in love.

    But when the plushness of your lips were close enough and his fingertips were bristled against your skin in the right way, you fucked as if it was your last day.

And that’s how things got to be sort of perfect, really. You and Mikey. 20 and 25 and it worked. It always fucking worked. 

***

    The thing about, well, things is that they aren’t perfect. That’s it. So when Michael would blush and scoff irritably at your joke about the age difference it took you by surprise. So it was a sore spot for Michael. Okay.

“Baby, I was only joking, you know that right?” You asked gently as you wrapped your arms around him on the couch. 

“Five years is really nothing, I just remember when I met you. All fresh to college and bright eyed…I didn’t mean anything insulting-”

“Just, save it okay Ellie? Look…” Michael sighed and sat up and out of your hold. You felt an ice cold chill sprint up your spine. You never fought. Well, okay, you did…but arguing over which kind of mustard to buy wasn’t exactly a real discord. 

Your eyes worried all over him, darting with every move he made. He got up and started toward your shared bedroom. “I’m tired of it, okay?”

“Of what?” You asked, frustrated with such a vague statement. 

“Of hearing about how you’re older than me!” Michael snapped, waving his arms into the air, a copy of “The Sound and the Fury” in his hands. 

“I hear it from my friends, your friends, my fucking cousins, and you…I don’t need to hear about it from you,” he looks so fed up.

“Do they say bad things about us? I….” you trail off, this is not at all what you wanted to happen. It was a joke!

“No…no they just tell me how lucky I am to have locked such a hot lady down and yeah. Fuck yeah…but babe…I am so tired of feeling like I am some lost puppy in your hands.”

And….wow. Fuck…wow. You fish mouth for a moment and let that sting. Let it sting nice and harsh. 

“Fucking…that’s what you think?” you rounded on him, angry now. Michael took a breath and shook his head. “No, Elle…”

“No! Michael, tell me…is your ego that important that me being older is that hurtful? Don’t act like a child then." 

The novel is dropped onto the coffee table with a thump and Michael licks his lips. He’s mad too. Takes slow steps that make the floor squeak and is right before you in no time. 

"My ego is fine, I’m sorry okay? I just…” he furrows his brows and places careful hands to your hips. 

Your heart hurts. “I’m so sorry…I…I shouldn’t have said those things…” you whispered and walked your fingers up his broad back. He shakes his head and tucks his head down, eyes closed. 

“It’s okay Ellie girl…I know I snapped…” he soothes you, so much taller and somehow curling around you. You let a fast, shaky breath go and softly head butt his chest, staying there. Just recovering from that short but sharp blow up. 

    “Just wish…there was some way…” Michael talks with his chin on your hair, the movement feeling like a pat on the head. His hands snake down to the top of your ass, your eyes open. 

“I could prove that I may be younger but I can fuck my baby girl like she’s been bad. Been misbehaving.”

Which, okay. A 180 change for the ages, you two as the nominees. Your stomach swooped to your toes and your legs felt as if they were turned to "vibrate.” That’s what this man did to you. 

    Michael’s voice is a raspy growl, the last word punctuated by his hands claiming your ass in a tight grasp. Deliberate and predatory. His eyes lock with yours as he shakes each cheek slow. A wolf and his lamb. Playing with his prey before sinking his sharp teeth deep. Deep… A tilt of his head and bite of his lip. “Huh? Maybe if everyone hears the way you squeak and scream your daddy’s name,” his fingers spread you apart and lift. 

Okay.

    “They would shut their fucking faces.” His jeans rub against yours, fronts each molding to the other. You’re staring up at him with glassy eyes and words dissolved on your tongue. Can’t think much further than what your body is yelling at you. You need that, need it so fucking bad. 

    “Right sweetheart?” Michael cooed before pressing a hot kiss to your forehead, speaking into it. You blurt out a wet reply, lips sticking from how much you licked them. Combined with the gloss. “Mmyeah..”

“Daddy’s going to give you his cock so hard tonight, angel. Is that what you want?” He asked so gently you felt like you were floating. One moment there was a fight and now…now your wet heat was pressed against his flexing thigh, begging for more contact. Your legs were spread for Christ’s sake and you hadn’t even taken one article of clothing off.

    “You always take it so well, so fantastic to it huh my good girl?” Michael was dragging his right hand down to your thigh, squeezing and traveling back up. Past your stomach, your breasts, your shoulders. His lip drawn back between his teeth, secure. His brows low and framing his wildly determined eyes. 

    Fingers wrapped around your throat and both hands were on your pulse point. “You need it.” It was a fact, stated in a gruff voice with an edge digging into your pleading slickness. 

    “Y-yes,” you manage and get onto your tippy toes to get to his lips. Just had to get those lips. 

“Uh uh, no sweets. Not until I say so,” Michael clucks his tongue, eyebrow piercing catching a sparkle of light from the moonlight through the blinds. 

And Michael’s hands were always so fucking capable. Could swirl the bath water around you to give you radiating warmth and comfort. Would play the strings fast or slow with practiced pressure and agility. Could tap your clit and curve just so inside of you to make you hear melodies you’d never heard until he whispered the lyrics into your ear. 

Michael was like a symphony and a jukebox filled with only the songs you simply could not skip over. A classic. 

    “And I say so….now.” Michael finished his muttering and has you spun around and bent over the dining table in a blink of your dark lashes. “Ah,” you gasp as your jeans are yanked down to your ankles. Your thong leaving a blank canvas for your boyfriend. “Well well…..well,” Mikey is smiling, you hear it loud and clear through the wood your ear is pressed to. 

    “How many, Ellie?” He asked.

Oh fuck. You were going to cum more than once tonight because Michael was undoing his belt right against your bare ass. You were going to choose the number because Michael’s soft palms stroked up your ass and across the spans of your back, lifting the fabric of your shirt. 

    “I….fucking hell Michael,”

“Daddy.” His correction is breathy, you feel his lips at the crease of your left ass cheek.

“Daddy….I…” You lick your lips and know that you’re up to it.

“Four…I can do four…”

Michael chuckles and leaves a soaking wet kiss to your ass. 

“Six it is.”

The smack rings like a fucking bell throughout the room. The apartment the amphitheater to the fun that was to come tonight. 

***

    “Ah! F-fuck! Daddy! Harder! Please!” Your cries bleated into the thick air in the living room as Michael’s hand came down onto your ass with more power. 

“Forty,” Michael said in his gritty tone. Forty spanks. Two years with this boy. 

It was over but not. The sizzling light rose color of your ass emanated a heat that dripped into your pussy. Michael’s musician fingers rubbed until it felt like you had to either grind onto the table or push back into his cock. It was hard and blurting out precum from the fat tip, so you chose the latter. 

“Oh, daddy…I need it. Need it so bad,” you were groaning as if you had just finished a marathon. Maybe you had. The adrenaline was pumping to your whole body and every brain cell only sputtered out your man’s name. Michael was your daddy and nobody could ever replace him. You needed him to know that. 

    “I…you’re so fucking good Michael,” you start to crawl up from your laying position on the table. Armpits no longer parallel to it, arms now bent. On your elbows is how Michael wanted to keep you however. 

    “No, no baby. I know. But this is daddy’s call, right gorgeous?” His hands are on your hips, keeping you in place. But you would never disobey him, not when he was giving you all this. 

    “Now, remember what I said, Elle?” Michael’s question is almost lost from your ears as the ripping of foil and stretching rubber sounds along with it. The magnum wrapper falls to the floor in your bird’s eye view. You bite your tongue down slowly, itching for it. Itched so bad. 

    “Let them now….let them all know how amazing your daddy makes you feel, okay kitten?” Michael’s hard, curved cock is in his hand and slapping against your ass. Each cheek gets a tap and a few smacks from it. From him. Your teeth reach all the way to your chin, the squeak you make completely wrecked. 

    “Yes, daddy.”

    And when Michael braces one hand onto your lower back, the other holding your hand, fingers laced…he sinks in. Sinks in slow and stuttering at first, the hot rub of it. Goes in deeper and deeper at a pace much like the crackling of an old mixtape first set to play. It’s like no rewinding once the needle scratches the black of the vinyl. It’s the bass dropping and your soul electrifying. You’re alive. The screams and shouts that almost make words crack into the air and infect it in the most divine way. Freezing like chemicals to the system before exploding into complete and utter chaos. 

    And his long stiff cock gets the itch for you, gets it so good. The precum singing into the condom and feeling hot through it. So hot. 

Michael’s pace is like a curtain in the early Spring breeze, floating. But deep, so fucking deliciously deep. The drums are pounded and your ass is shaking as he goes faster and harder. Rougher. His shirt is tossed across the room and your hair is gathered into a tight ponytail. 

His breathing is resounding through the acoustics in your chest. His moans beating as your heart does below your sternum. The tissues and tendons that make you up absorbing the shock of his hisses of pleasure. Reverberating to start a chain of echoes. They sound like the trickling of chimes to the force of violins. 

“Fuck!” Michael groans and tugs your hair harder, drawing your face up, neck bared. The other is at your ass, spanking you for the forty-first time that night. The sting is the most euphoric you’ve ever felt. 

“Daddy! Daddy I’m going to cum!” you shout back to him, voice breaking and drawing up. Asking. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Cum on my cock baby girl.”

The first one comes like a tidal wave, pushing you over and twisting you around. And you are in fact twisted around by Michael’s arms not a second after you’ve cum right onto his cock. 

    “That’s one,” he notes as he swivels you to face him, lifting you up and spreading you down to take his cock again. “Shit!” You moan and clamp your eyes shut, hands white knuckling the table. He slams in and out and you’re seeing notes to songs you’re making up now. Not really understanding what you’re thinking besides fuck me fuck me fuck me. 

Michael rolls his hips with such fucking talent and has you in tears, cumming against the wet sliding rubber for a second time. 

“Two.”

“Fuck, daddy…” you pant, throwing your feeble arms over his shoulders and leaning into him completely. You know your daddy has you.

    “Doing so good my lovely girl, fuck you’re good for me,” Michael gasps as his tip hit the hilt of you, right at the pit of your stomach, you can feel him. He pulls out and slaps his dick against your clit, causing you to spasm and spit riddles into his neck. He just chuckles again and thrusts back in. Now you’re walked back to the center of the sitting area in the apartment, Michael supporting you all on his own, hands spreading your cheeks and pussy to take more of him. To connect your bodies to the highest level he can achieve. 

He can have it all. 

    And you squirm in his arms as the third orgasm hits. Then the fourth when he rubs it out of you, stilling you on his cock. So wet. It’s 4-0 you and Michael. 

“Daddy, it’s you…you gotta cum for me. Cum for your girl…” You somehow find the strength to plead, voice pathetic and eyes blissed out. 

“I will, don’t worry my love. I will at your sixth,” a wicked look is in his emerald eyes and slanted grin. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said six. You knew that, you did. And making that joke about your age difference may have been the best thing you’d ever done.

***

There was no denying that your neighbors could hear your screams. Could hear the couch almost toppling over as you rode Michael with such eagerness your knees were turning pink. No denying the bangs on the walls and disgruntled shouts of “Keep it down!” and “It’s too late for this!”

    The songs were not over. Not yet. You had more notes to hit and belt out as the veins of your boyfriend’s thick cock throbbed against your walls. More harmonies to make with Michael. The tipping point of the song you were singing was approaching quickly.

The fifth was harder than the last, keeping the pattern consistent. 

“Good girl, such a fucking good girl, you know that? I love my good girl,” Michael said with a laugh of disbelief at just how much he adored you. The sincerity carried like notes on the treble clef and into your heart. He meant the whole world to you and he saw the universe in your half mast eyes. 

And Michael was close, let you know with the nudge of his nose to your cheek and jawline. Dragging it across to your lips and licking into your moaning mouth with such sweet fervor. Your eyes widened and your hands grabbed at his chest in uncontrolled movements. He leaned his neck back to gaze at his girl and smirked while moaning your name. 

“Daddy’s gonna fucking cum, baby,” he swallowed and closed his eyes as you sat right down hard on his cock, stopped bouncing and just rubbed. So close, you swiveled your hips in figure eights and pushed down on his chest, his hands on your waist. 

    A chord struck, a string snapped, and your sixth was crashing through the frets. Michael’s orgasm ripped through him and he screamed along with you. His a “Baby girl!” to your “Daddy!” The harmony wafting through your ears like a riff of the piano. 

    Michael slows down and you reduce the sporadic twitches of your hips to gently clench around him. He cums until there is nothing left. All songs sung, all strings plucked. Your throat ruined and his chest a smattering of red and pink dynamics. The sweetness of how you two played so soothing. The severity just right to scratch the itch. 

    And you two sit still like that for a few minutes, Michael still deep within you. Just breathe. Catching breath and gathering up fresh energy to make it to the shower and then to bed.

***

“I love you, I’ll see you tonight for pasta night, kay baby?” You smiled at Michael as you swiped your keys off the kitchen counter.

“Of course babe, I’ll be here stirring the sauce, reading Faulkner,” Mikey says with a wide, toothy grin before leaning in to give you a kiss. 

The morning after, you going to your Sound Manager job at the music studio miles and miles from the bar where you met the love of your life. Mikey had two classes today at the University and was making dinner tonight. 

“Good boy, I love you…” You smack a kiss to his lips, swollen from the night before. 

“Be a good girl at work!” He calls out to you over the stove, making some oatmeal. You stumbled a bit in your black Mary Janes, feeling the ache down low and the thrill up your thighs. You are his good girl, always.

    And as you get your bearings back, adjusting the black pencil skirt and feeling Michael’s effects in your panties, the scratch of the vinyl sounds.

    “Do you remember? The 21st night of September?” Earth Wind and Fire croons throughout your apartment. Your heart lifts to the clouds and your head whips back to see him. He’s dancing, moving his hips from side to side as he stirs; he’s singing along with just as much joy as that night a year ago in the bar.

Michael peeks over his shoulder at you in the doorway, singing to you and blowing you a kiss. Winks, and waves. 

You have to laugh and blush with a crazy, untouchable happiness in your heart. 

“Never was a cloudy day!” You lift your hands and sing along with him as you back out of the door, bending at the knees to catch your breath. You’re just laughing so hard. 

That day is tiring but good and you feel Michael all throughout. One melody, one lyric, one intoning truth remains with you because you met him at that shitty night job. Recalling it so clear.

“Remember how we knew love was here to stay.”

And yeah…that was a really fucking good song.

Lay With Me: A Criminal Minds Imagine

A/N: This is a request from an anon, and I thought the picture fit pretty well :) I’m sorry that I’ve slowed down, gunna bring it back some more, maybe a spam today- xoxo Fuckeree

Rating: PG13 

Warnings: None that I can think of but uh, idk. 

Imagine… 

The last thing you could remember was the pounding music in the smoky bar, and Reid expressing how it burned his eyes and it was hard to digest the atmosphere. 

The team had decided to go out and spend some time just letting your hair down, so to speak, after a long and taxing case in Georgia. J.J had called Will, and he had picked the place. A crowded bar that smelled of smoke and nights nobody could remember, but it served the best food, and the best pints, in Will’s opinion. 

But after jello shots, and a few rounds with the ladies, the pounding music had seemed to crawl inside of you head, and as you groaned and placed a clammy palm to your burning forehead, you begged to know why you had thought it was a good idea. 

Looking down, you realized that you only had a t-shirt on, and you smiled at the thought of how all of you must have been at the end of the night. 

You roll, and place your hand down to get some traction, when you bump against the body of someone else. “Oh shit” you mutter, and in a horrible moment of terror, you desperately tried to remember if you had taken someone home lat night, but you were coming up empty. 

With a deep breath, you turn, and your heart bursts as you realize that it’s Reid curled up on the other side of your bed, his collar ragged and his tie balled up under his chin. His hair was a little messy, but otherwise it looked as if he had been sculpted into your bed. 

“Shit” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and holding your face. The room was spinning and your eyes were still glazed over. 

The bed starts to move, and you can’t figure out if you’re moving, or he is. “Y/N?” his voice is still full of sleep, and you feel yourself swoon for a minute before you wrap yourself with the top blanket and look at him shamefully. 

“Yea, Reid?” you hope he doesn’t ask what happened, because you don’t remember, and if neither one of you knows what happened, this will be a sore spot in your relationship as friends forever. 

“Are you okay? You were really gone last night” he pushes himself up, and so do you, standing on the cold hard wood floor, you just shake your head. 

“It feels like the bar crawled into my head.. And.. And I can’t remember a lot” you feel a blush creep into your cheeks, and he nods, offering a sympathetic smile. “Get some water” he replies, and you shake your head once more. 

“Reid I can’t remember.. I can’t remember this” you gesture towards the bed, fighting your emotion. “I’m embarrassed and ashamed, because if we made love, I don’t remember it. I don’t remember coming home, holding you, laying with you, I don’t remember anything”. 

His face is one of distress, and he runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Forget the water, just come here” he says firmly, and you tentatively sit back down. 

He slides closer, so that his arm is brushing your leg, and he looks up at you. “I’d feel better talking to your face, not your back” he admits, and you slowly lay yourself down, and look at him. “Better” he says quietly, propping himself up on one elbow he looks at you.

“Last night, we all went out, right?” you nod in agreement and bite your lip. “I remember up until you saying your eyes were burning”. He smirks, and nods.

“Okay, so after that, Garcia came up and asked if you would go to the bathroom with her, you asked me if that was okay, and I said "Of course, go ahead”, then you two left. When you came back, you got a round of drinks, and I declined. So you drank for the two of us" he pauses to laugh a little bit, and continues. 

“After that, you were pretty tipsy, and you said you weren’t feeling well. I offered to get a cab home with you, and you had said "Yes, please”, so I said goodbye to everyone for us, and helped you outside. We got into a cab, and I asked your address so that I could get you home". 

“That’s where we ended up, and you got sick, so I took you and set you in the bath. Then I asked you if you could clean yourself up, and you could, so I let you because I didn’t want to invade your privacy. You washed up, and I got you a shirt so you could change”. 

“You got changed, and asked me if I could help you in bed, so I took you by the hand” he starts gently tracing circles on the side of your arm, and you shiver. 

“And we went to bed, I helped you get covered up, and I went to lay on the couch. You asked me to stay with you, so I put a wall of pillows between us and I crawled into bed. You were asleep before I could even reach over and turn off the lamp”. 

A wave of relief floods you, and you breathe, nodding. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I wouldn’t want to be with you.. Cause I.. I wouldn’t have a problem with that.. But I was so afraid that I wouldn’t have remembered you and I”. 

He smiles and looks down briefly before catching your eye once more. “I would never do anything when you couldn’t remember, and not when you’re drunk”. 

You smile, and take his hand. “I’m not now, and I want you to know that I feel the same way sober that I did drunk”. 

His eyes widen, “So you like me?” he asks carefully. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” you stretch up, and test him, brushing your lips against his, and he passes that test. 

He gently holds his hand behind your neck, and answers to your kiss with his own, he’s a lot more practiced then the team gives him credit. 

“Spence” you breathe, looking into his eyes. “Spence, you have to be okay with this or I’m not gunna push you”. He smiles, his face so close you can feel his breath, and nods. 

“I’m more then okay" 

Chained Rose, Chapter II

A/N: Hi, thanks so much for waiting. Here is chapter two.

As before, this story is also available on AO3.

Or if you want, read it here on my blog in chronological order 


                                 Chapter Two: She Never Lied To Me


A scream cut through the silence, four gunshots roaring right after the other. On my feet in a flash and stumbling into the living room, I pulled out my knife and charged up my aura before assessing the situation.

The Scab was loose.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

mechanic Midorima au, and his clients car broke down! Some cute fluff <3 Thank you ^-^

[ what happened to this trainwreck ]

Fandom Meme 2
AU: Mechanic!Midorima
Pairing: Midorima x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Words: 462
A/N: Alrighty, I’m not familiar with mechanic aus but hope you enjoy!

Midorima stared at the piece of wreckage incredulously. How could anyone destroy something this much? It looked like a brand new car but there were dents all over the most obvious places and that was basically everywhere. He wiped his oil-stained hands on a dirty rag and pushed up his glasses.

“Did a truck run over this thing?” He remarked sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes, “Oh ha ha. Laugh all you want you jerk.” You punched his arm. Midorima had been your friend for years – hell, the two of you had been attached by the hip since you accidentally painted his hair purple in kindergarten. You swore it was an accident but Midorima believed otherwise. You’ve had the biggest crush on him when he started playing basketball then he got smarter and now he runs his own garage. But then again, Midorima never thought about you in any romantic way. Or so you thought. “Can you fix it?”

“Depends on what your budget is.”

“Well, I am your best friend you know and—“

“I gave you a free tune up last month and the month before that and the month before that—”

“Alright I get it!” You huffed. “How much for everything?” When he told you the sum, you nearly fainted and instead you dropped onto the ground. “Are you kidding me? Is there no discount for a friend? Like 100% off maybe.”

He gave you a look. “These car parts will take a while to import since they’re all international. But, yeah, that was only the estimate.”

“But – but, come on, Shin-chan, I’ve got lots of loans to pay. Can I give you an IOU?” You practically begged.

He sighed, knowing he could never refuse you. “How about this, I won’t give you your car until you pay back the loans, but I’ll offer to carpool to make sure that you won’t wreck another car or public transport for that matter.” You glared at him. “It’s a good deal. We’ll split the gas fee fifty-fifty.”

You squealed and threw your arms around his neck, making him blush all over, “God, fine. Let’s carpool.” Then you blushed and muttered, “You owe me a date for this too.”

Midorima’s ears perked up at the word ‘date’ and he instantly flushed red. “D-Date? What are you talking about?”

“You idiot,” you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “We can use your car to go on dates or something, alright. God, I thought you would’ve figured it out by now!”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I’m saying that I like you, Ahorima!” A-Ahorima? “Anyway, just call me later or something alright. We’ll work out the kinks.”

Midorima glanced at the car and sighed, “It’s much more than just kinks.”