i am in love with that fic okay

okay okay okay I’m so happy right now so many good things are happening. I’m working on m godfather fic for the write a thon (mafia theme guys, they are all in the mafia I’m so pumped), I’m really close to 2.5k followers which is insane, and #bekindtowriters is actually happening and spreading and I couldn’t be more proud that it’s catching on! 

wonderfulchaos69  asked:

omggg, you did not have to edit your post jsldkfjls I just remembered us talking about that Ma Ma thing after writing it and it was a fond memory <3 I think YOUR COMIC is way cuter than what I wrote TBPERFECTLYH. I am loving the gif so much. Like, did I save that pic or did that pic save me.

BUT AMIGA I WANTED TOO. (•́⌄•́๑)૭✧ The fan fic was so cute and was a part of my inspiration to help make the comic!~ Sometimes when I get asks for comic suggestions or anything really, I can get stumped on how to go about them. ^^; and sometimes thats why they sit there in my inbox…*sobs*

bUT LET ME PRAISE YOU. OKAY????? ლ(ಠ益ಠლ) I love your fics! But yes I do remember talking about it too~ ahh memories~<3 Bwhwhaha thanks! I cracked myself up making the gif. Here it is again for everyone lol 

okay but what if jungkook used to tease jimin by not calling him ‘hyung’ because he wants Jimin to see him as someone equal as him not as the youngest member in the group, because he don’t want jimin to love him as a baby brother he don’t want jimin to love him because he is cute and because he is the youngest among them, because he wants jimin to see him as a man that he could love and could love him back too so thats why he always making fun of Jimin also thats why jungkook works out a lot because kids are not supposed to have muscles right? kids are not supposed to look sexy right? that way maybe his jimin hyung will look at him as a man

anonymous asked:

Hello! So I was at a party tonight, and this woman told me this great story about how she met her husband. She was the PR person for the local university. He was the sports editor for the local paper. He kept getting the school's mascot wrong in articles, and she would have to call him every time to correct it, growing increasingly frustrated every time. This was one of those moments when all I could think was LARRY AU, LARRY AU.

oh my god, thank you so much for sending me this message! It just made me so happy and I love it.  Like, I love these actually people you met and I love it as a larry au!!!!!! 

I feel like it works both ways so well for larry that I can’t even really pick one. example:

Louis as the university PR person, grumbling to Niall about the mistake the first time it happens.  Waving the sports sectionaround and stabbing a finger at the picture of their mascot at a basketball game.  “What the fuck!!! look at this photo of Ferdinand!?!!  Look at this caption!!! A hawk???? A hawk??” (they are the falcons) And then like, because in this version louis is immediately over-frustrated, instead of increasingly, he’d call up the paper in a big huff and then immediately be disarmed by Harry’s calm, deep voice and seal bark laugh once he finally got him on the phone.  Then he’d flirt-email him a link to an article about the differences between Hawks and Falcons as soon as he got off the phone, thrilling at his own daring as he did it! And after like the sixth time Harry got it wrong, they would go on a date and after they got married they’d always collected both stuffed hawks and stuffed falcons. 

oh my god how killer, because opposite way around, Harry the PR guy calling, he’d be immediately disarmed by Louis’s voice, too!!  Like all flustered, and then like he’d get blushy when louis teased him, but also tease back.  oh my god and then seven or eight calls in, Harry finally loses it and is like “you just don’t care about our sports teams because we’re not division one! Well, tough! you live in this city too, Louis, you should know our mascot is a turtledove by now god damn it!” and then louis would ask him out.  

i’m just smiling a lot.  like i can also imagine either of them as the sports editor, starting to get it wrong on purpose and feeling like “oh no, my journalistic integrity!” but also “i need to do this flirting very bad!!!!” 

okay sorry i rambled so much.   

here is a drarry fanfiction I wrote while on wisdom teeth drugs.

i am on drugs NOW RIHGHT NOW and I am go going tgo write a drarry fafiction when i am dnon t drugs her w e go

ther are 2 wizards here we are with two gay wizards theeeeeeir neimse s are draceo and hariui poter

they ar e gay

and in lov e love tehey are in love but they!!!!!!!!!!!! are in lveo but its a seret okay they are gay and in love but its a sevret shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh 

drqaco and harrrrry are gay and in love and draco has a penis it s is ts its a thing but does harrry  have a penis YES HE DOES that is what maes it g ay theyre gray th e end!!!!!!


Okay so I wrote this while I was on drugs and I wrote it in my notes on my phone and then I sent it to myself and then now here it is. It happened. I am so disappointed in myself. Enjoy this literary work of art.

anonymous asked:

Do you think on the ride home Dean took off his flannel and made Cas put it on to replace his bloody shirt?

“I really am alright, Dean. You don’t need to sit back here with me.”

Dean ignores Castiel’s reassurances, just like he has been ignoring them for the last fifteen minutes.

Dean?

“Cork it, Cas! Mom’s drivin’, Sam’s shotgun, and I’m back here with you, makin’ sure you’re really holdin’ it together. That’s just the way it’s gonna be so stop tryin’ to fight me on it!”

Both Mary and Sam give each other wide-eyed looks, but stay quiet—knowing that Dean is still processing everything that had happened back in the barn. He’s still drowning in the feeling of being out of control, and it’s driving him absolutely nuts.

“Here, Ma” Dean grunts, shoving the Impala’s keys at the woman and then turning back to tend to his angel.

She swiftly nods and takes the keys before ushering her other son around the far side of the car—and then, all at once, they climb in to join Castiel, who has already been carefully placed in the backseat by Dean’s steady hands.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Dean asks—slightly calmer now but his voice still has a rattle to it.

“No, Dean. I’m feeling fine—just like I said before.”

“Well, you don’t look fine. You’re kinda pale. Sam, doesn’t he look pale to you?”

Sam turns around and gives Cas a sympathetic look before shrugging silently at his older brother, knowing that his opinion doesn’t really matter right now anyway.

“Yeah, see—Sam thinks so. You should lean back a bit.”

“These seats don’t recline, Dean.”

Dean frowns at him. “Then scoot down a little! Jesus, Cas … I’m just tryin’ to make sure you’re okay!”

“I am okay … I have already told you—”

“Scoot down, Castiel!” Mary grits  firmly from the front of the car—glaring at him through the rearview mirror, eyes flicking back and forth between the angel and her eldest son.

He wants to protest again, but then Castiel nods, finally understanding that the only one not fine right now, is Dean, and doing what he asks—no matter how pointless it is, will make him feel a little better … a little more useful. Cas scoots down in his seat.

Dean smiles, happy that his friend is finally listening to him. “Alright then … better?”

Castiel stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Yes … better.”

The proud smirk that immediately graces Dean’s face seems to trim away the tension in the car—until the moment that the folds of Cas’s coat fall away, exposing the dirty, blood-stained white button up beneath. “Oh … shit, man! That looks bad!” the man yelps as soon as he sees it.

Castiel squints and cocks his head to the side, finally following Dean’s eyes down to where the usually clean looking garment, is now a tattered mess strewn about his body. “Oh. Yes, well … I can just—” Cas begins, already lifting his hand to will the mess away, but he stops mid motion—cutting the magic short because the man beside him is starting to fidget in his seat. “Dean? What are you …”

Dean teeters back and forth, wriggling from side to side in the confined space until he finally manages to free one of his arms from the black coat and plaid overshirt that he’s wearing.

“Hold on … almost …” Dean soon rocks all the way over until his head is practically in Cas’s lap—but he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s too focused on freeing his other hand. “There!” he yelps victoriously, finally holding up the plaid shirt for everyone in the car to see.

Sam nods and Mary holds back a chuckle, and Cas just continues to stare at the man—confused and slightly annoyed by everything that he’s doing.

“Okay, Cas. Your turn” Dean says after another moment, eventually turning happy eyes back on the angel.

“My turn?” Cas asks, feeling suddenly nervous about what he’s expected to do.

“Yep” Dean chirps, looking Castiel up and down with a long pull. “Strip and put this on.” He holds the flannel out towards him, but he doesn’t hand it to the angel just yet, as if he’s planning on dressing him himself … and at this point, Cas wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what Dean had in mind.

“Dean …” Castiel grumbles again, now—rolling his eyes for all to see. “You realize that I can fix this, don’t you?”

Dean only grips the shirt tighter in his hand.

“I am an angel … I have the power to—”

“Just put on the damn shirt!” All three Winchesters bark in unison.

And that makes the angel finally throw up his hands in defeat. “Alright!” he exclaims, quickly sitting straight and leaning forward so that he can work his body free from his coat. But before he can completely shimmy it off, Dean’s hands are on him, fiddling with the buttons of Cas’s dirty white shirt. “Um … what are you doing?”

Helping” Dean snaps, but his cheeks are turning red and his hands are starting to shake against the angel’s chest.

Cas stares at him a moment, and then up to the front of the car where Sam and Mary are vehemently avoiding eye contact with anything but the road. So he turns back, just as Dean undoes the final button and pushes the cloth aside, displaying every inch of Castiel’s unmarred skin.

The man then stills for some time—never looking away and holding his breath until the second Castiel is finally able to speak.

You see, Dean … I’m all healed.”

Dean quirks up the side of his mouth, but his face quickly falls flat again, while his eyes bounce away and back several times, seeming torn as to where to look now.

After that, it only takes another minute for Cas to slip out of the ruddy, old shirt and into Dean’s flannel—and for the first time since they left the barn, Dean doesn’t interfere, nor do Mary and Sam act like anything is happening just behind their heads. In fact, the frenzied tone of their drive has seemed to mellow, and even Dean appears to have settled down; although, his hands still twitch with the need for something to do … which doesn’t go unnoticed by the angel at his side.

Castiel sighs, flicking his eyes down towards the soft plaid that’s now draped over his own shoulders—the fabric is warm and smells like Dean; so just as he begins to fasten the last two buttons, he purposely skips one—so the thing is now bunching up across his stomach. “There” he confirms, drawing Dean’s focus back to the task at hand, and of course—Dean notices the mistake instantly.

“Ah—jeez, Cas … you’re helpless, ya know that?” Dean mutters with a smile, reaching over eagerly to straighten out the buttons and get them all in the right order.

But Castiel just smiles too, taking the moment to take in the worried Winchester—his charge, his family … a man that he loves—and he nods. “You’re right. What would I do without you?”

Leo de la Iglesia ❤️

Okay so maybe it’s just common sense that I’m most likely to relate to Leo because I am also a nineteen year old American, but he is seriously my new fave and here’s why:

It’s great to find power in love like half the other skaters in the competition. I absolutely love how Yuri’s theme embodies his love of Viktor, but Leo- he finds power in what he skates to… the music itself!

He’s so young, yet he choreographs his own routines to his own favorite music. I didn’t include this specific picture, but he also says that he just wants to fill the world with what he loves. He loves music, and he wants to fill the world with music because it gives him strength and does the same for others, including me.

I relate to Leo so much because without music, I would also have no courage in myself.

The scene where he falls while practicing a jump is just so beautiful because he doesn’t get depressed when he falls, he just looks to his music for guidance and reflects on the fact that he wouldn’t be there without music.

Not only do I love Leo, but I also love the music he chose. It’s catchy, and has an undeniable, positive American feel to it. And god knows we need positive American vibes after yesterday’s disaster of an election.

I can’t wait to see Leo come back for more. And I know he will, because it was stated that he’s the closest person to qualifying for the Grand Prix out of everyone in the competition. Undoubtedly, Yuri has real competition in Leo.

Mirror For The Sun - Part 6: Mt. Rushmore

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 5 - Part 7 (coming soon)

Summary: (Bucky POV) Nat tricks you into leading a road trip with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Her plot is partly to get the boys to travel for fun for once but mostly to get you and Bucky together. You and Bucky, who seemingly despise each other.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 3692

Author’s Note: Okay team, I love-hate South Dakota. I think that shows in this part. XD I hope you like it anyway. Fun factoid, so far I have been everywhere in this fic that I am taking you all, and by the end there is only one place that I’ll not have described from experience.

Originally posted by wanderluxx

I woke early this morning and made my way to the kitchen, Steve was already up, wolfing down a protein bar and preparing for a run. Not quite ready for conversation and definitely not interested in a run on my first vacation in years, I slipped silently past him onto the elevated deck that wrapped around much of the cabin Y/N had managed to find and rent for us. I have to admit after 14 hours of driving yesterday alone, most of those hours contentious and stressful, this cabin with plenty of room for the four of us to spread out is a much-needed reprieve.

As much as I hate to admit it, Nat knew exactly what she was doing convincing Y/N to map out this trip. She knows exactly how far is too far a drive for one day, when we all need space or when it’s okay to tough it out and share a small hotel. Just now the space and the quiet is a welcome change from the hot, overcrowded amusement park or the busy city streets.

I check my watch and know the sun must be coming up, but looking out from the roughly hewn pine railing, all I see are tall, dark evergreens covering the rippling hills in front of me. I can’t even see another house from here. The morning air is cold on the back of my neck since I’ve tied my hair to calm it, so I flip my hood up over my head and turn with a start when I hear her soft voice. “It’ll warm up soon.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

HI. Okay so I need some new drarry fics although I still have like 400 of them that I still haven't read. But right now I'm in the mood for some obliviate au or memory loss au and well I think this will be a bit of a challenge for you because I have already read a lot of those. But it would be really appreciated if you could help. 'Cause it's one of my favorites. THANK YOU...

Drarry + memory loss fic recs

Pretty Fond of Not Very Good Ideas by lq_traintracks (4.9k)
Harry Peterson, Orderer Extraordinaire, and his trusty sidekick, Ray. Or: Harry’s been hit with a memory charm, but it’s okay because he realises he’s bent for Draco Malfoy.
(I fucking LOVE this fic, it is HILARIOUS, I am still cackling over it. Harry is hysterical, he and Draco have amazing chemistry, and the writing is A+.)

• An Issue of Consequence by Faith Wood (20k)
Draco has woken up in an alternate universe. Or he has woken up utterly insane. Nothing else can possibly explain why Harry Potter suddenly seems to think he’s Draco’s boyfriend.
(Placing it on this list kind of spoils it, sorry about that, but this fic is absolutely delightful regardless. I love the Drarry in it, they are so passionate together.)

• The Shape of the World by bixgirl1 (48k)
Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco’s life is finally getting back in order. Until, that is, he sees a familiar face that has been missing since that last awful morning of the war. When has knowing Potter done anything other than complicate his life?
(Agh, this one makes me cry! It’s very well-written and while it’s occasionally heartbreaking, Harry is super adorbs and I love their relationship in it.)

• Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (66k)
When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.
(Slow-paced but somehow really intense and I couldn’t stop reading?? There’s angst, feels, unexpected revelations. Don’t forget to read the coda!)

• Of Fates Entwined: A Story of Love Lost and Found by taradiane (51k)
Harry Potter vanished without a trace from his home on a warm summer morning in June 2004. This is the story of how a random visit in a cafe on the other side of the world, six years later, proved that the ties which entwine our fates together can never be broken.
(I have mixed feelings about this one, but it’s a must on a memory loss list. The angsty feels! I really enjoy the angst in it, and it turns out oh-so-sweet.)

Colors by xErised (9.2k)
Tomorrow is the day when Draco will be released from Azkaban. Harry Potter has been desperately waiting. 
(Excuse me while I cry my eyes out. Okay, so the memory loss is a very small part, but I love this fic so much, it is a must-read for you angst addicts.)

Because I’m feeling sappy and thankful...

I just wanted to like thank you guys for giving me a chance and sticking with me since I started writing on here for you guys. Never did I ever imagine I’d end up with 2,365 followers on here, never did I imagine that I would make such incredible friends and have a group of followers who genuinely care about me and are excited for my next story. 

I’ve been writing and reading fanfiction for years, I have always written it for myself as a way to practice my skills but I never intended to ever share it with anyone. As a reader of fanfiction I have always found writers that I love, found stories that are an incredible adaptation of the source material and have anxiously awaited the next update or the next story from a writer. I never thought that I would be a writer like that for other people. Every single time I have someone tell me that they have notifications on for me, they ask to be tagged in fics or they just tell me they enjoy my work I get so unbelievably happy. 

I have been lucky that my work has been so well recieved by you guys and I am grateful to you all every day for sticking around and not being scared off by my ideas. I’m blown away when I’ve gotten some nasty anonymous messages and then so many of you quickly jump to my defense and tell me not to listen to them. You guys are the greatest and I am just so damn lucky. 

There are a few people I wanted to thank in particular:

@daveeddiggsit I started reading your work long before I even made myself another tumblr (I had deleted my old spn one) and found you by looking through the hamilton tags. I was blown away by you and immediately bookmarked your blog on my phone so I could check for updates and new stories every day. I never imagined that I would end up being such good friends with you. Thank you for being there when I need you, being someone to scream about Daveed with and just being an amazing friend

@imaginebeinghamiltrash thank you for being such an amazing friend. We talk daily and I absolutely love talking to you as much as we do. You make me smile, you cheer me up when I’m sad, you remind me to sleep and eat when I forget and you help me when I doubt myself. Never stop being as amazing as you are. 

@and-peggy-yall you are the past version of me, one of my closest friends on this website and I love you so much. You’re always the best to talk with, you made me sob because of the outsiders which I still love and hate you for introducing me to it. You’re so supportive and I can’t thank you enough for being such a great friend. 

@hamiltonsquills you are there for me every single time that I talk about being unhappy about something on this blog and I love you for it. Thank you for being such an amazing friend and caring so much about me I love you mon cher. 

@wrotemywayoutimagines my darling little sibling, thank you for always being there when I need you, thank you for standing up to hateful anons for me and just being an incredible friend. 

@love-doesnt-discriminate thank you for being there every time I need encouragment or cheering up. You are an incredible friend and I love you for it. 

@adothoe thank you for being someone I can have fun with and joke with. Thank you for being an incredible person and friend. I love you. 

@secretschuylersister thank you for being the kindest person, for helping me when I was insecure about my writing and always having something lovely to say about me and my writing. You are amazing person and I love you

@fragmentofmymind thank you for being there for me, for being super, super nice and approachable. Thank you for being such a great friend, i love you. (Also i know we haven’t talked in a little bit I feel very bad about that and will message you soon just know that I love you)

@musicalmiranda Thank you for being someone I can talk about obsessions with books with and being there to encourage me when I needed it most. Thank you for being a great friend.

@tempfixeliza I know we’ve only spoken the one time but I can’t tell you how grateful I was when you came to me and helped me when I was so insecure about my writing. It was incredibly kind of you and I’m very grateful for it. 

@anonnymousefangirl thank you for being there to stick up for me, indulging me with STTTG questions and being there for me when I need it. You’re amazing and I love you.

Laughter Lines Fic ll Art by: Gin-twaka 

Under the Mistletoe

pairing: daveed x reader

summary:  reader invites hot neighbor daveed to the christmas party and s t u f f happens

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, smut, hair pulling, face fucking, praise kink

word count: 1,900

a/n: HEY MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE IF YOu celebrate Christmas and if not I hope you have a delightful day anyway i was going to queue this to post later but nah it’s 4:30 AM i need a nap okay love u bye


“It’s open!” You call toward the front door from the kitchen, wiping your hands on the edge of your apron. You push the gingerbread house away from the edge of the counter and walk out of the kitchen to see who’s shown up an hour early to your party.

As you’re walking through the doorway, your reindeer antler headband catches on a particularly low strand of lights and clatters to the floor.

“Uh oh,” Daveed laughs. “Dasher down.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “I’m actually Vixen, thank you.” You bend down to pick your antlers up and slide them back on your head.

Keep reading

cosmic-files-87  asked:

2/11/15 MSR for the angsty list....I know....I am an ass.... (but really!!!!! Please write that!!!!)

2 - I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you.

11 - You can’t keep hurting me and then demand I apologize instead.

15 - You betrayed me.

Author’s Notes: Okay, this one hurts. Like a kick to the groin kind of hurt. I almost feel bad. It is high angst & will probably piss some of you off. If you proceed – you were warned. Post IWTB.

Two Weeks, Too Cold

It’s been two full weeks since she’s seen him.

She can’t remember the last time she went more than a day without hearing his voice – What’s up, Doc? – watching him as he watched her, or felt his broad chest against her back as he spooned her to sleep.

I won’t be coming home, she had said. Don’t do this, he had begged.

Scully keeps telling herself that she made a mistake by letting him kiss her as she stood in their front yard with tears rolling down her face, by entertaining the notion that they could ever hide from the darkness. It was cruel, she thinks, because even then she knew that she wouldn’t be coming back home.

Which isn’t exactly true, because she did come home, briefly, to gather a bag or two of her belongings. Her chest aches at the memory – of the desperate tears and of his voice breaking on each  I’m sorry and please don’t leave me.

That was two weeks ago. Two weeks that have been filled with work, because if she can’t help the man she loves then at least she can help a child breathe. Two weeks filled with too much coffee, because her fingers feel ice cold without his own interlaced with them. Too little sleep, because her skin trembles and aches without his hands there to gentle away the nightmares.

Two weeks, she has decided, is long enough.

I just want to see him, she tells herself as she guides her car onto the long gravel drive that leads to their shared home. The house is modest, but cozy. Most of all, it’s theirs. The few tangible things they’ve shared in the past have been wrenched away from them – but not their home. No blood to scrub out of the carpet, no taped X in the window to summon life-threatening information. It’s just home, and it’s theirs.

She steps out of her car into the crisp air of early morning to pull open the gate, and she smiles to herself. The ritual of it is comforting. Countless mornings and evenings have began and ended with opening this gate, letting herself back into the beautiful, private world she shares with Mulder.

Pulling into her spot in front of the house, she sees a strange car. She frowns curiously. Did he go out and buy a car after I left? She wouldn’t put it past him, except that it would require his actually leaving the house (and nothing short of a psychic priest has convinced him to do so thus far).

On her walk to the front door, her heart begins to hammer against her ribs at the thought of seeing him again.  It’s only been two weeks, she chides herself. Still, she expects that he may be angry. When he’s hurt, he tends to deflect – in his case, that means petulant withdrawal and an abundance of sarcasm.

She draws in a deep breath and unlocks the door. He may still be asleep, she realizes as she steps into quiet darkness. It’s just after five o’clock in the morning. Just because she hasn’t been able to rest doesn’t mean he can’t.

But oh, she’s finally home. She closes her eyes, relishing the smell of Mulder’s aftershave mingled with the scent of the roses he had delivered to her office just a week before those goddamned agents showed up at the hospital. She remembers bringing them home, carefully tucking them into a vase of water. They’re beautiful, she had told him. Not as beautiful as you, he had replied, his hand tucked against the small of her back.

“Who are you?”

Scully starts at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, opening her eyes to see a woman standing at the threshold where kitchen becomes living room.

A woman.

Tall. Brunette. Holding a glass of water. Wearing only a t-shirt and a confused expression.

“This is my house,” Scully says, the words scraping past a throat that has gone as dry as desert sand. “Who are you?”

The woman stares back, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt uncomfortably.

No, not her t-shirt. Mulder’s t-shirt. Scully’s favorite shirt that Mulder owns, because it’s soft and worn and somehow still smells like the cologne he wore the first time she slept in his arms, even after all these years.

I’m going to be sick, this is not happening, oh Mulder what is going on…

The woman finally speaks, clearing her throat. “He – he said he lived alone.”

I’ve wandered into the wrong house, Scully thinks numbly. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.

But no. That’s Mulder’s shirt, and that’s the drinking glass my mother gave to me when we moved here. That’s the couch where Mulder and I made love less than a month ago.

“Scully.”

This can’t be the wrong house, because that’s Mulder. He’s standing in front of her, and he’s not wearing my favorite shirt, he’s not wearing a shirt at all, and he looks terrified, and oh God I’m going to be sick…

“Mulder?” Her voice sounds tiny. Her hands are still freezing, but now her palms are sweating as her stomach churns. Please explain this, Mulder, she begs silently. Please please please please.

“Who is she?” When the other woman speaks again, Scully wants to scream at her. She has no right to ask that. Scully is the one who should be demanding an explanation. She’s the one who deserves an answer. Not this stranger, with her morning-after hair and her long smooth legs brushing the hem of Mulder’s shirt.

I’m going to be sick.

“Mulder?” This time, her voice is louder, sharper, less please tell me this isn’t what it looks like and more how fucking could you.

He doesn’t acknowledge the other woman’s inquiry, instead stepping toward Scully with his hand outstretched. “Scully,” he begins, and her name on his lips tells her all she needs to know. She’s heard him speak her names countless times – calling to her for help, playfully teasing her, comforting her in times of distress, moaning in ecstasy as she coaxes him to climax, even shouting in anger during a particularly intense argument.

Never – never – has he said her name with this desperate, helpless tone threaded through it.

The woman has disappeared, and Scully can hear her in the bedroom – our bedroom  – gathering her things, probably eager to get away from this house – our house – and whatever is about to happen between them.

Mulder moves forward, and she sees panic etched into the lines of his face.

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as the full realization of what’s happening settles over her. “No,” she chokes, swallowing against a throatful of stomach acid. “No, no, no.”

“I’m sorry, Scully, please let me explain.”

Her eyes fly open, and she wraps her arms around herself. “Explain?” Her voice catches on a sob. “What is there to explain?” She stares at his face, his beautiful face, and it’s more than she can take, his eyes full of regret. She backs away, grappling for the doorknob.

“Scully, don’t leave. Please.”

Two weeks, Mulder!” Her stomach aches, her head pounds, and I need to get out of here, this is not happening. “I was gone two fucking weeks!”

She is hot and cold at the same time, her clammy palms sliding against the doorknob as her fingers shake uncontrollably. She feels the heat of his body behind her, and oh God, she wants to lean into him, just to warm her hands, but nonononono, she has to leave, she cannot stay another minute in this house.

When he places a hand against her shoulder, her entire body recoils. “Get the hell away from me,” she gasps, her breaths coming in shorter spurts now, her lungs burning.

The doorknob finally relents, and she shoves against the door, stumbling outside where it’s still so cold, it’s not home, and she can’t breathe, and fuck you Mulder how dare you how fucking dare you.

He follows her across the yard. “Scully, please.”

She doesn’t break stride or respond. She’s almost to her car when she feels his hand catch the arm of her coat. She jerks free, but his grasp is lighter than she expected, and the heel of her boot slides against a leftover patch of ice. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have caught herself. The reflexes instilled in her all those years ago in FBI field training never failed her before, but she can’t even catch her breath so how is supposed to support her full weight?

Maybe she doesn’t even want to.

Her knee meets the ground with a sharp crunch, and she hisses in pain.

Immediately, Mulder is at her side. “Oh God,” he says, and reaches for her again. She slaps his hand away, and finally the tears she’s been fighting break through, streaming hot against her chilled face.

“In our bed, Mulder,” she says bitterly, leaning back against the tire of her car. “I was gone two weeks, and you fucked someone in my bed.” She tries to suck in a lungful of air, but is met with resistance when the breath halts on a sob. So this is what suffocation feels like.

“I was drunk,” he whispers miserably.

“When are you not?”

He flinches, but continues. “I don’t know what happened. Scully, I don’t even know her.”

“Where did you meet her, Mulder?” She glares through her tears. “All this time, while I’ve been working, have you just been out meeting women to bring back to our home? Our bed?”

“Of course not,” he breathes, staring at her in horror. “Never. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did,” she whispers brokenly. “I never believed you would do this. Not in a million years, Mulder.”

“Neither did I.“ His voice is pitiful and sincere.

She swallows thickly. “You betrayed me.”

He sinks all the way down beside her. “I know,” he says quietly. “I know, and I’m so sorry.” There is a heavy silence between them for a moment before he adds, “Scully, you left me.”

Scully shifts to face him, and grits her teeth against the pain that the motion sends shooting through her knee. “You’re unbelievable,” she spits venomously. “You screw another woman in my bed, on the sheets you bought for me on my last birthday, and you’re making this my fault?” She fumbles with the top of the tire, trying to pull herself to her feet.

“Scully, stop,” Mulder pleads. “You’re hurt – your leg.”

“You’re damn right I’m hurt,” she snaps. “And it has nothing to do with my leg.”

She gives up on standing for the moment. “You never answered my question,” she tells him, her eyes burning hot into his.

“What question?”

“Where did you meet her? I’ve never known you to socialize, but clearly, there are a few parts of your character I somehow missed in all our years together.”

He stares at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I went on a walk and ended up at a bar. It’s a couple miles down the road. I had more than I planned, and she – she offered to drive me home.”

Scully folds her arms tightly around her midsection. The tire is wreaking havoc on her back, but she barely notices.

“Classy, Mulder.” She closes her eyes again, but the tears fall anyway.

He sighs. “You left, Scully. You just left, and you wouldn’t return my calls. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back.”

Scully tenses as another wave of nausea washes over her. “I left because you wouldn’t leave the house unless it was to spiral back into your fucking paranoid obsessions!” 

She covers her face with both hands. “You can’t keep doing this,” she sobs. “You can’t keep hurting me, and then demand that I apologize instead.”

“When have I done that?” His voice is laced with disbelief. “When have I ever done that, Scully?”

Fuck you Mulder fuck you fuck you fuck you –

“Fuck you,” she cries, gripping the edge of the tire again and heaving herself to her feet. “I don’t need you.” 

She ignores the throbbing in her knee when she puts weight on it. “I don’t need anyone,” she says, her voice breaking. “I think we both know I’ve survived greater losses.” She wrestles with her purse, digging for her keys. “But it’s fine. I don’t need any of you.”

Mulder touches her shoulder, and she shrugs him away again. “Don’t touch me.” She yanks her car door open. “I told you to get away from me.”

“Scully, I’m sorry,” he says weakly. “You may not need me, but I need you. I always have.”

“You didn’t need me last night,” she tosses back viciously as she forces key into ignition. “I can’t take care of you anymore, Mulder. Figure it out.”

He positions his body so that she is blocked from closing the door. “Scully,” he tries again, his voice echoing with despair. “I’m begging you. Please. You came back for a reason. Please don’t leave again.”

Her chin trembles as she answers him in a voice as brittle as dry ice. “I left for a reason, too.”

She grasps the door handle in her hand despite the remaining tremors. “Move.”

He slowly backs away, and at last she sees tears shining in his eyes. It’s too late, it’s too much this time, I can’t.

The sound of her slamming door causes him to jump. The pressure she places on her gas pedal makes her moan with pain as her knee protests the movement.

When she glances in her rearview mirror, she sees a tear-blurred image of her entire world, standing with his arms hanging helplessly at his sides.

He’s still not wearing a shirt, she realizes.

Go back inside, Mulder. It’s too cold out here.

I would know.

END.

Before you ask, yes, there will almost certainly be a follow-up.

Love Through the Hate

pairing: lams

modern middle/high school AU

request: anon: Please Make more fanfics. If you need inspiration I will freestyle for you. Okay It would be a Lams. John Laurens dad would hurt John because he’s gay. Alex will comfort him. Good Luck I don’t mean to be needy but, It has been a while since you made a fanfic and I am happy with all your new followers (You deserve them) Yeah so have a nice day.

word count: 2015

warnings: homophobia, hitting, does it count as physical abuse? if someone getting hit triggers you please don’t read

a/n: well i’ve been not productive about this blog lately. whoops. IF HOMOPHOBIA OR A FATHER HITTING HIS SON BECAUSE OF HATE IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU DO NOT READ. please, take care of yourself first.

masterlist

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“John, how come you never have me over at your house? Like, for dinner or whatever?”

John fidgets in his seat, picks at a loose thread on his sleeve, drums his fingers on the table, leans back and looks at the clock, does everything he can to avoid answering Alex’s question.

“John.”


John stares down at his lunch tray.

Alex sighs. “Why won’t you answer my question?”


John looks his boyfriend straight in the eyes. “Many reasons.”

John’s six and asks what the word “gay” means, having heard it at school. His father explodes on a long rant about homosexuality and his hatred of it. John just sits there, feeling uneasy but not wanting to walk out, not wanting his father’s wrath to be turned on him.

John’s eight and he and his parents are at a clothing store, shopping for new jeans for him. Two men walk past, holding hands, and his father voices a very loud complaint about that. He says a word that John tries to forget, but it feels like it’s been branded into his brain forever.

John’s ten and he should be getting crushes on girls, should be finding other girls pretty, but instead, he finds himself admiring the other boys in his gym class, thinking that boy who sits next to him is really cute. He’s supposed to be able to tell his father about everything. But he can’t breathe a word about this. He knows what his dad will say, what his dad will do to him. At least, he’s heard his dad talking about what he’d do to gay people. He’s terrified.

John’s twelve and on the day that the Supreme Court rules that same-sex marriage is going to be legal in all fifty states, he wants to cheer, wants to scream his happiness to the whole world. His dad sits shocked in front of the TV and growls hateful things under his breath at the screen, at the endless flashing pictures of gay and lesbian couples celebrating their victory.

John’s thirteen and he’s checking out the guys instead of the girls and he realizes that he’s gay. He wants to cry when he figures it out. He doesn’t want to change, he just doesn’t want his dad to hurt him.

John’s fourteen and a new guy comes to school. One look, and he’s gone, fallen, but he’s held back by the fear that his father has implemented in him. He gets to be friends with the guy, eventually, and comes out to him. The guy is bi and they start dating and John’s in heaven. He tells the guy everything except any mention of his dad. He’s worried as to how the guy will react.

Alex notices that John is close to crying, with the memories washing over him. “Oh, no, sweetie, don’t cry, please,” he says quietly, hesitantly taking John’s hand in his. “What’s wrong?”

“The reason…” John swallows. “My dad. That’s the reason. He’s–he’s homophobic.”

Alex digests this information.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” he wonders. John violently shakes his head, and the first few tears escape his eyes.

“It is that bad, Alex, it is…it’s so, so bad.”

“C’mon, surely he’d be fine with just meeting me. You don’t even have to tell him we’re dating.”

John shakes his head again. “No, Alex, you don’t understand! I love you and there’s nothing more that I want than to introduce you to my family. But he hates any mention of gay people, it’s really bad, like, he’s said that he will kill gay people if he has the chance and I’m…I’m scared, I don’t wanna get hurt and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he finishes, breaking down fully in silent tears.

Alex lets his boyfriend cry, rubbing his back, and he doesn’t bring it up for a month.

John kind of hopes that Alex will drop it, but Alexander Hamilton doesn’t give up easily, if ever.

Alex brings it up at lunch again. “Today, after school, could I come over for dinner to meet your parents?”


John sighs. “We’ve been over this, Alex.”


“Can’t I just meet them? We don’t have to say we’re dating. You can introduce me as your friend. Please?”

I’m gonna regret this.

Alex is doing his puppy dog eyes that John can’t resist. John tries to argue with him for a couple minutes, but Alex wins, and they both text their parents to inform them of the plans.

Nerves are building in John’s stomach for the rest of the day after lunch. Alex meets him outside the front doors after school with a simple “hey” and John feels like he’s going to cry because he doesn’t want Alex to get hurt and it be his fault because he didn’t fight harder.

They’re a block away from John’s house when John abruptly stops.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, backtracking.

“I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not?” Alex asks, and John’s words stick in his throat, all of his good arguments dying before they live.

Alex pulls him off to the side of the sidewalk, tilts his head back, and kisses him, deep and long and full, and John’s gasping for breath when he pulls away. All thoughts have been blanked out of his mind, all he can think about is Alex.

“No, wait, do that again,” John pleads, reaching for Alex, and even though they’ve got somewhere to be, even though there are other people walking past, Alex kisses him again, and they both forget about everything.

It’s been a good fifteen minutes by the time the pair finally starts walking in the direction of John’s house again.

Before they go inside, John stares at his reflection, trying to get rid of the blushing, just-made-out-with-my-boyfriend look. He fixes his hair and takes several deep breaths while Alex does the same.

“Ready?” Alex asks.

“No.”


John opens the door anyway.

“Hello, boys,” his mother says, smiling down at them. “You are…?”

“Alexander Hamilton, but you can call me Alex, ma’am,” Alex says, sticking his hand out for Mrs. Laurens to shake. She looks surprised for a second, then laughs.

“No need for such stiff formalities,” she tells him, and Alex nods.

“Come on in. You can hang out in John’s room until dinner is ready,” she adds, and Alex and John step inside.

They go to John’s room and sit on his bed and John is kind of embarrassed because, well, they’re on a bed, and the door is closed and locked, but he can’t even kiss Alex for fear of his father.

So they play games on their phones for what seems like forever, competing against each other, laughing at the failures and celebrating the triumphs.

“Boys! Food!”

“Your mom gets it,” Alex mutters as he picks himself up from where he’s sprawled across John’s comforter. John tries not to stare at Alex’s long, lanky figure. He smiles in agreement as the nerves take over again.

Dinner is stiff and awkward. Mr. and Mrs. Laurens keep up a jerky flow of conversation that skips and stutters. John is trying not to give anything away, but he’s so anxious that it’s not working very well. Alex desperately wants to hold John’s hand but can’t.

“So, why are you here? What is your relation to John?” Mr. Laurens asks, turning to Alex. “What was your name again?”

“Alexander Hamilton, sir,” Alex says, sensing that Mr. Laurens wants the stiff formalities that Mrs. Laurens disregarded.

“And…?”

“I’m his b-best friend, sir,” Alex says, stuttering a little on the b. John’s eyes widen in fear that he tries to hide, really not wanting Alex to say boyfriend.

Mr. Laurens stares at Alex. “Alright. Are you sure there’s not something more? You two seem awfully comfortable around each other. You positive you’re not a–”


John stands up.

“What is it, son,” Mr. Laurens asks, sneering.

“Don’t say that word,” John states, his voice trembling. “Do you even know the history of it? Why people say it?”

“I didn’t say anything!” his father protests.

“Oh, you’ve said it plenty of times before,” John snaps back, fire in his veins, fury coursing through him because he has had enough.

“Why are you defending that? Those people are–”


“Because I’m one of them.”


Dead silence.

Mrs. Laurens looks at John and nods, once, signifying that she’s okay with him and that he can go to her if needed.

Alex can’t just sit there. He stands up. “I’m bi. And I’m dating John.”

Mr. Laurens looks like his eyes are about to bulge out of his skull.

He lunges for his son.

What happens next is a blur.

John drops to the ground and tries to hide under the table, Mr. Laurens swings a fist at him, Mrs. Laurens shouts for her husband to stop, Alex stands there, frozen and speechless for once in his life. He created this disaster, and he thinks he might cry.

“Henry! STOP!” Mrs. Laurens screams, and in the sudden quiet that follows, the dull thud that Mr. Laurens’s fist makes as it hits John’s arm is very clear.

Alex can’t breathe.

Mrs. Laurens pulls Mr. Laurens into the kitchen and a shouting match begins.

John crawls out from under the table and stands up. He winces when Alex puts a hand on his arm, and Alex can already see a bruise beginning to form. Alex wants to cry, but John starts to cry first, and Alex pulls his boyfriend close and lets him rest his head on his shoulder. John cries into the fabric of Alex’s shirt, muttering something that Alex can’t hear properly, a mix of swear words and furious ramblings and scared sentence fragments.

“I’m so sorry, John, so sorry,” Alex says over and over, and at some point he starts crying too.

“I…” John hiccups. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to John’s forehead. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”


Mrs. Laurens comes out of the kitchen. “He’ll leave in half an hour. I’m sticking with you, baby boy.”

John smiles gratefully at his mother but doesn’t move from where he’s cuddled up to Alex. “Thanks, Mom, I didn’t…I knew that would happen. That’s why I didn’t wanna tell him…”

Guilt washes over Alex for about the thousandth time. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

John waves his hand. “He was gonna find out eventually. A secret that big…you can’t keep it for your whole life, which was the other option.”

“And it’s nice to finally meet you,” Mrs. Laurens says. “Be good to John, okay?”

Alex nods. His throat feels like it’s constricting.

“Take him upstairs and help him calm down. Take a shower or something, baby, okay?” she advises.

“Yes, Mom,” John says. He turns to his boyfriend. “C’mon.”

“I feel so bad,” Alex confesses when they’re in John’s room, and he starts crying a bit again. “I made you do that and you got hurt and I will never forgive myself and I’m sorry I don’t think that expresses how regretful I am and I feel horrible I’m so sorry–”

John shuts him up with a kiss.

It’s hesitant and chaste at first, but then Alex deepens the kiss and they fall onto John’s bed, still kissing. John’s oddly cold, and he breaks the kiss to burrow under the blankets. Alex joins him after texting his mom and telling her that he’s spending the night at John’s. It’s a Friday, so that’s okay.

“We’re gonna be okay,” John says directly into Alex’s ear, and Alex repeats it, and both of them say that until they kiss again once more.

“I love you,” they then repeat. Alex brushes his lips over John’s forehead. The other boy is sleepy and soon succumbs to sleep.

Alex watches John fall asleep, and he only sleeps when his eyes close from exhaustion. He watches over him. He doesn’t want anything else to happen.

They love each other even through the hate they face from John’s dad.

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likes are appreciated, reblogs are WONDERFUL, comments make my day

Best Undressed: Josh Dun smut

Y/N: Sorry I fell off the face of the earth. I was super busy and I still kind of am but I’m going to just see where this goes and keep doing requests and stuff whenever I get a chance. Okay love you all xoxo

Anonymous said:
concept: y/n is supposed to have dinner with tyler and jenna but while y/n is trying to get dressed, every time y/n puts something on, josh takes something else off…?

*female reader, smut

Water rushed down against your skin, hair tousled between your fingers, soapy suds sliding down your back, steam rising from the shower, your lips pressed together, eyes closed, humming a soft tune of a song your boyfriend had been caught listening to earlier that day. Warm showers were always something you enjoyed, the way the water glided down your body, messy hair cascading down your shoulders, steamy hot air surrounding you, able to close your eyes and be alone. Although you had enjoyed some pretty amazing shower sessions with your boyfriend Josh in the past, you had to admit that sometimes being alone was just as pleasurable.

As you rinsed yourself off and stepped out of the shower, you looked in the mirror, drawing a smiley face in the foggy glass simply for your own amusement, then snatching a towel and wrapping it around your body. You walked out of the bathroom and stepped into your bedroom, picking up your phone and eyes going wide. “Fuck,” you gasped.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Josh raised an eyebrow, turning around to reveal his outfit, a fine tuxedo with a tie to match your outfit. “Oh gosh.”

“Yeah,” you gulped nervously. “I’m going to make us so fucking late. In fact, I think we already are. Geez, I am so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Josh reassured.

“Not it’s not,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest. “Dammit I even called to make sure you were already dressed when you came home from work and that I’d be ready for you to pick me up and I just feel-”

“Sweetie, it’s fine. Really,” Josh insisted, sitting on the edge of the bed across from where you were standing, nervously biting your lower lip. “We have dinner with Tyler and Jenna every month. I’m sure being a little late once won’t totally ruin our relationship with them. They’re very forgiving.”

“No, no, no,” you shook your head, closing your eyes tight, cursing yourself over and over in your head. “You don’t understand. Jenna’s been trying to get these reservations for months. It’s one of the fanciest restaurants in town and they’re constantly busy, I can’t believe I’m already running late.”

“Y/n, trust me. It’s going to be okay,” Josh explained.

“Why didn’t you knock on the door and tell me?” you groaned.

“I just got home,” he told you. “I thought you were just in the bathroom or something. I didn’t know you were taking a shower.”

“I’m so screwed,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair. “Please call Tyler and tell him we’re on our way. I’ve got to get dressed.”

“Babe,” Josh eyed you up and down slowly. “I’m telling you, honest, it’s fine.”

“Shut up and call him,” you insisted, rushing over to your closet and trying to find the dress you had agreed on wearing for over a week now. Your stupid ass ruined everything, and it was something you and Jenna had planned for almost forever, everything down to the smallest detail. You felt like crying, but forced yourself to suck it up, try to clear your mind, forget about it, and instead, use as much time as you had right now to change things and make it right. You were so angry at yourself, knowing you had already fucked everything up. You fumbled for the dress, finally picking the hanger out of the closet and taking a step back when you felt two arms snake around your hips, pulling your back so it was pressed against his chest.

“I think you need to lose the towel, sweetheart,” Josh whispered in your ear.

“I think you need to prioritize,” you narrowed your eyes, turning around and pushing him back.

“I am,” he nodded. “You’ve always been my number one priority.”

“Jenna’s going to be pissed,” you grumbled.

“No she’s not,” he rolled his eyes. You discarded your towel and Josh instantly smirked, eyes gazing at your exposed body. “Besides, we’re already late anyways.”

“Exactly. That means we need to hurry the hell up,” you argued. You paced over to the dresser, tugging it open and bending down to pick up your bra and underwear, Josh raising his eyebrows and eyeing you carefully. “Oh stop it. We don’t have time for this.”

“We always have time for this,” Josh reminded. You glared at him and slid on your panties, watching as he skillfully removed his tie from around his neck, then the suit jacket.

“We’re supposed to be getting dressed,” you snapped, fixing on your bra as he began to unbutton his shirt. “Not undressed.”

“I know,” he shrugged, undoing the last button and tossing the dress shirt across the bed.

“Josh,” you hissed, grabbing your dress and stepping into it, pulling it up towards your body as he unbuckled his pants, unzipping them, slowly sliding them down as you adjusted your dress. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You tell me,” he winked, kicking off his pants and walking over to you slowly.

“Joshua,” you stated his name more forcefully this time, trying to stay serious and angry. “Put on your goddamn clothes. We’re so fucking late.” It took every particle within your being not to stop and stare at his chest, the way his muscles accentuated his tattoo sleeve, how wonderful he looked, how you just wanted to run your hands down his skin and kiss him all over. No, you couldn’t think about that. You had to get to the restaurant and you needed to do it now.

“Mmm I think I’d rather stay in for the night,” he insisted. “I mean, my clothes are off, I’m kind of comfortable, and you look really lovely in that dress. Kind of makes me want to see what’s underneath again, for a longer period of time than the last maybe. I mean, you did get dressed sort of quick-”

“Goodness gracious, Josh!” you finally lost it, rage boiling up inside of you, fists clenched at your sides. “We plan a dinner for how many weeks and then we can’t even get there on time, much less get dressed? This is ridiculous!”

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he smiled, managing to somehow look past all the fury overflowing from inside you.

“Shut up,” you maintained your glare, glancing down for a split second to realize he had a hard on before flickering your eyes up to meet his, still trying to fight the temptation.

“Come on baby, you know you want to,” he sighed, slowly moving his hand down his chest to his boxers. He dipped his thumb underneath the fabric, outlining the waistband, slowly moving it lower, exposing his hips. “I’m already hard.”

“Fuck it,” you instantly placed your lips on his, both of you sharing an open mouthed, passionate, desperate kiss. He quickly went to work on the zipper of your dress, tugging down the fabric and picking you up out of it, placing you onto the mattress of the bed and laying down on top of you.

“Shouldn’t have even bothered getting dressed,” he mumbled in between greedy kisses.

“I should’ve known,” you chuckled, kissing him one last time before his lips trailed down your neck, nipping at your skin and gliding his tongue across the pain and replacing it with pleasure, leaving hickeys as he traveled towards your breasts, unhooking your bra and sliding that off of your shoulders before grazing his teeth past one of your nipples, massaging your other breast with his hand.

“So beautiful,” he barely breathed as he placed kisses on your chest.

“Shit,” you gasped, tilting your head back into the pillows as he started to move lower, palms slowly gliding down your stomach, pressing soft kisses to your belly, then your waist, and lower, until his thumbs hooked the waistband of your panties and slid them down. Before you could even say another word his mouth was on your core, licking stripes up and down your folds, making you let out a loud moan. “Holy fuck, Josh.”

“That’s right, y/n,” he mumbled, moving his hand over your entrance and slowly inserting a finger, pumping it in and out, flicking his tongue against your skin. “Say my name.”

“Oh god, Josh,” you moaned even louder, him inserting another finger and picking up the pace, his tongue tracing circles over your clit, making you grab fistfuls of his hair, tugging at it desperately. You were so close to cumming when he pulled away, making you whimper for more, and he licked his lips, smirking as he slowly sucked your fluids off his fingers, remaining eye contact with you the entire time.

“You want this, baby?” he stroked a hand over his clothed cock. “You sure you don’t want to go to the dinner? I mean, if you really insist, I’m pretty sure you were set on going. I’m sure we can just-”

“No,” you shook your head. “Josh, don’t tease me.”

“I don’t know,” he looked away innocently. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s best we just go back, apologize, still try to make it.”

“Shut up,” you demanded, turning him over onto the mattress so you were straddling his hips, tugging down his boxers and sliding them off his ankles, tossing them off of the bed. “I want to fuck you so bad. You keep tempting me, keep teasing me, I can’t take it anymore. I need you.”

“Then do it,” he stared at me, brown eyes intimidating and overwhelming yet so fucking tempting. “If you want it so badly babe, all you need to do is fuck me. Fuck me good and fuck me hard.”

“Whatever you say,” you smirked, carefully taking his dick in your hands and lining him up with your entrance before pushing down, sliding every inch inside of you, gasping and tilting your head up, listening to Josh let out a soft moan.

“Oh fuck y/n,” he bit down on his lower lip. “Ride me, baby. Fuck me so good.”

“You don’t have to say it twice,” you narrowed your eyes, thrusting your hips and pushing him even deeper, moving up and down. His hands gripped your waist, pushing you faster, harder, putting you at an even quicker pace. With every thrust you grew closer, your legs trembling, gasps and moans starting to get harder to restrain. Josh was a mess too, and you could feel from the way his movements began to get sloppy, more desperate, both of you barely hanging on.

“Shit,” he moaned as you both orgasmed, riding out waves of euphoria as you both came, your sweaty and exhausted body soon collapsing on top of his, the two of you trying to regain a steady breath. “Dammit you feel so good, y/n.”

“Totally worth it,” you let out a light chuckle, his arms wrapping around you and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “What are we going to tell Tyler and Jenna though?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Josh reassured. Just then, his phone rang from the nightstand and you both stared at it. “Maybe I should get it. It’s Tyler after all.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, reaching for it and then handing it to Josh. You were surprised there weren’t any missed phone calls or texts.

“Hey Ty, look I’m so sorry-” Josh began to say but Tyler was already speaking.

“I’m so sorry, look, Jenna and I got a little distracted and I guess we weren’t keeping track of time. We didn’t make it to the reservations, I’m so sorry dude, you must’ve been waiting forever,” Tyler quickly explained. Josh blinked for a few seconds, staring at you and then laughing. “Wait. You’re not mad?”

“It’s kind of a funny story,” Josh stifled a laugh. “Me and y/n never ended up making it either. We sort of had the same predicament you guys did.”

“Ah, I’m not sure it was quite the same,” Tyler insisted with a small chuckle. “I’m sure you both had quite the uh, distraction though, too.”

“Believe me, I did,” Josh grinned. “Anyways, we’ll do dinner some other time I’m guessing?”

“Sure,” Tyler decided. “Anyways, you two enjoy your uh, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Why? What were you two doing?” Josh raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Watching a movie,” Tyler stuttered.

“You sure it was a movie?” Josh persisted.

“Oh shut up,” Tyler argued, you could practically hear the eye roll from on the other side of the line. “Dinner next week work for you?”

“Yeah,” Josh nodded. “See you later.” He hung up the phone and then set it on the night stand before turning towards you again.

“So, we’ve got the rest of the night to ourselves I assume?” you asked.

“You bet your ass we do,” Josh smiled. “You know what that means?”

“We put our clothes back on like normal people and go out to dinner ourselves?” you raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Josh. I didn’t buy that dress for nothing.”

“You always looked best undressed, sweetheart,” he insisted. “I was thinking something a little different.”

“Then what?” you narrowed your eyes.

“I was thinking we should just stay in for the night,” he winked. “That means we have time for round two.”

miaunderstress  asked:

ITS MIA! YOUR (hopefully) FAVORITE DRARRY FRIEND. I have come for a rec request, and you, the rec queen, are my first choice ALWAYS. Okay so I need to start reading some longer fics again but not like INSANELY long. decent length. Preferably with lots of smut. And when one of them is really flirty and it makes the other one all flustered. Or if they're forced to or end up living together. PINING?! JUST CUTE AND HOT OKAY EMMA I LOVE YOU

Miaaa, I am so excited to do these recs for you! It has been a struggle to narrow them down to these. So, while all of these don’t fit all the prompts, they all have at least one of them, and they’re all fics that I think you’ll enjoy~ 

Strange Bedfellows by ravenclawsquill (30k)
When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.
(I love this one, we have Drarry ending up living together, they’re all domestic and goofy and it’s wonderful. It’s dealing with some darker themes, too.)

Never Feel the Burning Light by carpemermaid (48k)
When it falls to Draco to restore his family name to its former glory the road ahead of him is long, but with Harry Potter’s help and a plan that is just this side of ridiculous he just might succeed at accomplishing his goals and getting what he wants. What neither of them plan on is falling in love along the way.
(THE PINING IN THIS GODDAMN. Fake relationship, living together, UST, great writing, casual intimacy, bits of heartbreak, all kinds of loveliness.)

The Critiquer by dysonrules (24k)
When Harry submits his cock photo to a renowned Cock Critiquer and gets a terrible review, he decides to take a photography class to improve his skills.
(This one is hilarious, I was cracking up so bad, and Harry is so determined to get it right it’s amazing. Snarky Draco, flustered Harry–so much yesss.)

Lessons in Humility by playout (86k)
After the dissolution of his marriage and a good bit of soul-searching, Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new Defense teacher. Go figure, it happens to be the same year Draco takes over the role of Potions Master. Neither man is happy about this turn of events. Will they be able to set aside their differences and learn a thing or two about trust and humility on the way? 
(Lots of sex, they end up living together, they’re all domestic and fluffy, they’re forced to talk things out, and I love them oh-so-much. So good.)

The Guise of Forgiveness by SunseticMonster (23k)
George’s new potion has caught the interest of the entire Auror Department, thanks to an article by the elusive Draco Malfoy. So, when Harry sees Malfoy in the middle of a panic attack, he attempts to make amends as a ploy to find out what’s really been going on.
(I adore this Draco, he’s so precious, and Harry is an awkward cupcake, you’ll LOVE THEMMM. Draco is dealing with depression and it is so real.)

Running on Air by eleventy7 (74k)
Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.
(I need everyone to read this fic because, again, it is the most beautiful thing ever and it will make you cry yourself into an early grave. In a good way.)

Bound To You by agentmoppet (28k)
Hag magic is capricious and unruly, and Harry and Draco are bound to stay by each other’s side until they can solve the riddle. In between long car trips, misty rain, and midnight star charts, they begin to understand each other.
(Amazing writing, so fascinating with the magical theory and all, there’s sass and accidental bonding and pining pinging pininggg.)

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster (16k)
Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.
(Draco goes so so shy when Harry gives him these compliments, it’s AMAZING. Flustered!Draco is my fave. This is sweet fluffy fun.)

Bonus:

Colors by xErised (9k)
Tomorrow is the day when Draco will be released from Azkaban. Harry Potter has been desperately waiting.
(Short, but this one is angstttyyyyy and it will ruin your life. You’re welcome.)

Warm Me Up part 5

*I do not condone underage drinking. It’s illegal. It’s bad. Kay much love <3 

Click Here for Ch. 1

Click Here for Ch. 2

Click Here for Ch. 3

Click Here for Ch. 4

Will seemed a little tense. Nico thought he was bad in social gatherings, but Will looked even more ready to bolt than he ever had. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I just… parties bore me, and I really don’t know what to expect with this one.”

“You’ll be fine,” Nico said, patting his shoulder. He nudged him in and people immediately began greeting him, much to Nico’s surprise. Once they’d gotten past a group of people, Nico raised one questioning eyebrow at him. “How could you not like parties when so many people seem to know and like you?” he asked. Will grunted in response.

“Hey, you guys made it!” Leo said. His eyes were glazed over already. “Come on, Nico, there’s a whole bottle of Bailey’s waiting for you.”

Nico bit his lip. He smiled and nodded. “Something tells me you already drank it.”

Leo laughed and shook his head. “Nah. I know it’s your favorite.” He turned to Will and smiled wider. “Hey man! Good to see you at another party! Feel free to get whatever you want.”

“I thought this was Percy’s party,” he pointed out.

Leo snorted. “He’s so shit-faced right now. Or close to it.” Will glanced at Nico worriedly and Nico frowned. “He’s fine. Me and Jason and Grover are helping him.”

“But you’re drunk too,” Will said.

Leo hiccupped and rubbed his neck. “Friends get drunk with friends,” he muttered. “I need another drink.” He turned away and Nico shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do that if you do decide to drink a lot.” Will scoffed and glanced around wearily. “If you didn’t want to come you didn’t have to, you know? I wouldn’t have minded.”

Will’s cheeks turned pink and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, what do you suggest I have first?” he questioned. Nico laughed and shook his head, nudging Will into the living room where there was a bar with all the drinks. “I won’t get drunk.”

“Okay,” Nico said with a smile. “Then we’re going big.” He grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured a shot into a red cup. He handed it to Will and laughed at his confused expression. “That’s a shot. Trust me you won’t be able to handle even a full fourth of the cup.” Will narrowed his eyes and sniffed the cup.

“Jesus, is that pure alcohol?” he exclaimed. Nico laughed at his expense. Will grimaced, took a breath, then tossed the cup back. He started coughing after swallowing it and covered his mouth. “Nope. Nope, that was horrible.”

“It’s horrible to everyone,” Nico said. “The only people who drink it are people who really hate themselves.”

It was supposed to be a joke. But then Will asked, “What were you drinking the day you got drunk?”

Nico’s smile melted away and he looked away from Will and at the bar. “Vodka,” he answered. Before Will could say something, he pulled him along and gave him a smile. “Come on, you have to learn to have fun at parties.”

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Okay am I getting deaf or is this really harry’s voice?! That was on ernest and doris birthday in 2015 😮🤗

In the coming weeks/months: Reblog more fanart, comment on every fic you read, appreciate your friends vocally

We are heartbroken and hurt. Let’s fill our community with love and gratitude for each other. We deserve that. 

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