i hope you like it xoxo

@roadswewalk I wish I had any photoshop skills whatsoever! This is a lovely idea…I hope you won’t mind that I ran with it:


Home again. Sherlock is alone, or he’s supposed to be. John has placed him on twenty-four hour watch, and taken the first shift himself. He’s sat Sherlock down in his chair, and placed a mug of tea at his left elbow, but he won’t sit, won’t talk. He shuffles around in the kitchen, fussing about with a bag he picked up at Boots. 

Sherlock’s whole body is a mass of aching withdrawal and bruises. He is a walking, breathing pang. He doesn’t want to take paracetamol, or whatever else John has arranged for him to have. He wants to crawl every inch of his recovery on his own. He can’t allow whatever help John is preparing to offer.  

John clears his throat. He hovers in the kitchen doorway, his left hand clenching and releasing. 

His right hand is coiled into a fist. No: his fingers are curled around something. A small bottle, a vial. Sherlock’s stomach flips, as his mind whispers sweet possibilities. What will he say, if John offers him a top-up, a little something to ease the pain?

No. The answer has to be no. Besides, John would never. John is here to watch him, to make sure he doesn’t use. What, then? 

Sherlock shifts in his chair. The small movement sets his nerves to screaming, but he won’t complain. For John, he’ll breathe through each moment. 

For John, he will speak, will try to break whatever stalemate this is. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Mm.” A non-answer. 

Sherlock wills himself to continue through this moment, and the next. He picks up the mug, deliberately, lifts it to his mouth, and sips tea. He waits. He has no choice.

“I wonder–” John starts. He stares at the empty air behind Sherlock. Shakes his head. Rubs his eyes. 

“Yes?” 

Sherlock wonders, not for the first time, how things became so strained between them. He knows. Of course he does: too much damage, too much heartache, too many words unspoken. 

John shakes his head, walks stiffly to the desk, and pulls out the hardbacked chair. He places it inches away from Sherlock’s chair, and sits. So close, so quickly. Sherlock blinks at his tea, risks a glance at John’s face. John is looking down at his right hand. His fingers uncoil. Sherlock frowns at what he sees there. 

Nail polish. Sea Blue. 

When John speaks, his voice is gruff. “Hold out your hand.”

“John, I assure you, I am in need of many things, but a manicure is not one of them.”

John shakes his head. “No. We’re doing this.” He shakes the bottle, much more vigorously than necessary. He unscrews the cap, rests the bottle on the arm of the chair, and removes the brush, careful not to let it drip. He holds out his hand for Sherlock’s. 

Sherlock places the mug carefully on the side table. His hands are inclined to shake. He tries to keep still as he offers his left hand, his palm resting on John’s. John paints a swath of nail polish over Sherlock’s thumbnail. Sherlock sighs. The sensation is pleasant. Cool, in contrast to the heat of John’s hand. 

“Not that I mind, John, but are you going to tell me why?” He can’t help asking. The silence is too intense, too monumental. He shudders as John works on his index finger. 

“Withdrawal. You’re going to start to itch soon,” John says. His voice is whisper soft. He follows the ritual he’s established for himself: dipping the brush, shifting his hand under Sherlock’s to hold him still, running the brush over the nail of Sherlock’s middle finger, then his ring finger. 

“And?”

“The nail polish is bright, and your nails will feel a bit different to you. I’m hoping it will serve as a reminder not to scratch. No good going through withdrawal if you come out on the other end with all your skin hanging off.”

Sherlock chuckles, his voice low. His skin already feels like it’s hanging off. It would make no difference to him, if he stripped it all raw, but he will try not to, for John.

John finishes with Sherlock’s left hand. He leans over it, his thumb running over Sherlock’s skin, and blows a light stream of air over the nails. 

Sherlock closes his eyes, feeling John’s breath on him, and the warmth that builds in his belly, and the relief from the pain he holds inside him. 

It’s temporary, but so very welcome. 

“The other hand, then,” John says.

Sherlock shifts in the chair, his whole body turning toward John, so he can offer his right hand. John leans over this hand as well, and he is so close, inches away from Sherlock. Sherlock breathes John in: the scent of the pomade he’s taken to wearing, ever since he allowed his hair to grow longer. The faint scent of toothpaste. It’s all bathed in the much stronger scent of the nail polish: butyl acetate; ethyl acetate. Overripe banana and pear, mixing with the stench of toluene. Not nearly enough to get high on. 

“Do you really think this will work?” Sherlock asks. He casts his eyes down to watch John work. John is hardly himself, hasn’t been himself for years, Sherlock knows, but at least he still has good, steady hands. It’s something. It’s a lot. Maybe, even, enough to start something new. 

John finishes painting the nails of Sherlock’s right hand. He purses his lips and blows air across them as well. Sherlock shivers. 

John frowns as he screws the lid back on the bottle. He puts it on the desk behind him. Sherlock holds up his hands to admire them. 

“I hope you like the colour,” John says. “Matches your dressing gown.” Not answering Sherlock’s question. Evasive. John is still sitting in the chair, inches away. To Sherlock’s surprise, he shifts forward, and his knee presses into Sherlock’s thigh. 

Sherlock sighs. “It’s…nice. It looks nice.” He wiggles his fingers. It does. 

John sighs raggedly. He takes Sherlock’s hand in his again. This time, he turns it over. He leans in. He presses his cheek to Sherlock’s palm. 

Sherlock is unable to move, unable to speak. John’s eyes are screwed shut. He rubs his cheek against Sherlock’s hand, the first hint of afternoon stubble scratching Sherlock’s skin, his fingertips. John presses his lips to Sherlock’s wrist, kisses his pulse point. 

“Please remember,” John says. “Don’t hurt yourself. Please don’t hurt yourself any more.” 

They hold there for a long moment. A tear escapes from the inside corner of John’s left eye, makes a track down his face. Sherlock is turning inside out, his whole world coalescing down into his hand, into John, into the shade of blue that adorns his nails. 

“I won’t, John. I won’t.”

EXO Reaction when a fan they met at a fan meeting becomes a new idol year later

Xoxo, Ara~
/I don’t own any of the gifs used, unless stated otherwise
/


Chanyeol:

*Composes something for you* “She supported me so much, I should do the same. I hope she likes this song… would be nice to hear her sing it”

Kris:

*Always shows his support and admiration* “You did it man! You made it so far, I’m proud of you!”

Sehun:

*Enjoys the music so much* “Woah~ So good… that face looks familiar tho… wasn’t she.. an EXO-L? Woah… our fans are so talented.. this is amazing”

Tao:

*Hugs him every time he sees him at events* “Look at you! I still remember when you were a baby. Now let me hug you my friend!” 

Kai:

*Become friends real fast* “Hey! Are you practicing? Do you want to practice together” *And he always helps*

Xiumin:

*Has been there since she told him she wanted to become a star* “Wow! Look at you! You look like an idol now! No… you are an idol now!”

Baekhyun:

*Gets ready for his fan and meet* “I wonder if this is okay… will he recognize me? I hope he does, it’s my turn to support him now.”

Luhan:

*Gives him advice from man to man* “And this is how manly man look even manlier”

Chen:

*Who’s the fangirl now* “Ahhh she’ so pretty! I want to talk to her more… her music is everything!”

Kyungsoo:

*Even though they aren’t that close, he knows it’s hard the way to become a star. He he is always silently supporting and slowly becomes like a mentor*

Lay:

*Really excited* “Omg it’s you!!! We met remember?! I’m so happy that you are here, we’ll be best friends!”

Suho:

*Everytime they ask him about you in interviews he says how proud he is of you* “We met a while ago but she never told me she was auditioning. Now that I see her here I’m so proud that she made it so far…..”

[Masterlist] [Guideline]

Ooc;

Semi-hiatus notice! I guess this has been a long time coming given my lack of writing the past few weeks, but I was sick for a good two weeks and I’m really quite swamped at work because of it. That said, I’m trying to get back into my drafts little by little, so please bear with me a little longer? I’m not dropping any of my threads, I just need to find a little free time to write, that’s all.

Also: to the anon who sent me the prompt quote– that is lovely and I shall definitely fill it soon! :D

Thanks so much for the patience and I hope you’re all enjoying jalecmonth! <3 My dash feels like Christmas, haha.

Xoxo,
B

4

♥ L o v e  i s  a  P r o m i s e - for @armorwars​ ♥

Writing is Hard, Part 4: Dry Humping

Summary: Dean doesn’t understand the allure of dry humping.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


“Where does Sam think you are right now?”

Dean shrugs at you, hair dripping from the light rain that’s falling. “Can I come in?”

You head back for your chair, next to the table that holds your pizza, and leave the door open behind you. Dean follows, shrugging out of his jacket and shaking his head like a dog, though his hair is too short for it to do much good. “I told Sam I was coming to your room,” he says, a forced casual tone to his voice as he drops that bomb.

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3

Captain Cobra Swan + Hogwarts Houses

For my Captain Cobra Swan Secret Santa Giftee @cocohook38 <3

Writing is Hard, Part 3: Phone Sex

Summary: You and Dean try something in order to write about it.

Read Part 1 Part 2

Warning: Smut, dirty talk

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


“How many are we up to now?”

The phone rests warm between your ear and shoulder as you glance down at the screen. “Almost four hundred followers,” you tell him. “Not exactly famous yet.”

Dean pauses, and you picture him sprawled out on a motel bed very much like yours, just two states over, glass in hand and flannel shirt crumpled at the foot of the bed, undershirt clinging tight to his chest.

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Practice

Requested by @captaindanindlovu​. I hope you like it!

Summary: Jared Padalecki x reader. Gen gives Jared and the reader permission to do what they’d like.

Warning: Smut, dry humping

Word Count: 2500

A/N: I’m still new to this RPF thing, so I hope y’all enjoy this! XOXO


Sex scenes aren’t the most comfortable scenes to shoot.

Sex scenes are even more uncomfortable when you’re shooting in front of the guy’s wife, who just happens to be visiting and has been given permission to be on the closed set.

Sex scenes are even more uncomfortable when you’re trying to get over the attraction you’ve developed to said married guy.

And sex scenes are incredibly uncomfortable when the married guy who you’re simulating sex with gets an erection. In front of the visiting wife.

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Nursery News- Derek Hale

Originally posted by hoechlder


Request// Oh! For the Derek as a dad week You could do one where Derek knows you’re pregnant (like you smell different from the pregnancy hormones or something) and he surprises you by making a nursery and that’s how you find out you’re pregnant with his kid? - @lillimay99

*What a fun way to kick off the week! Thank you guys for all the request and I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. xoxo*

Derek and you had promised to keep no secrets from one another since the beginning of your relationship, but this would be the only exception. It would only be for a short period of time and the “consequences” are something he’s wanted for years now: you were pregnant with his child.

He had a sneaking suspicion for the past two weeks, but it wasn’t until today that he was sure. It all started when your smell was different than normal. Usually, you’d smell like a mix of apples and his own smell, but now he could smell a hormone that he knew but couldn’t put a finger on (now, he knew it was the same scent his mother had when she was pregnant with Cora). It didn’t make sense until he heard another heartbeat. The first couple nights, he thought it had been an intruder in the house and would search around the house on high alert. He had never smiled brighter than when he realized the heartbeat was coming right from your stomach while you slept.

The big question was how was he going to tell you that you were carrying his child? An opportunity like this wasn’t something a man usually got. After running his hands through your hair while you slept under the rising sun, he finally got an idea. The perfect idea.

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Dating Yugyeom Would Include

Can you make a “date Yugyeom would include..” please? Brazil loves your blog Jagi xoxo

Note: You’re so adorable thank you so much! You called me Jagi and I nearly died of fluster and happiness. I am so happy you requested this and I really, really hope you enjoy the outcome! (I loves Brazil too, I’d love to visit some day!~)

Disclaimer: I don’t own any gifs/images used.

GOT7 Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Jackson Wang || Jinyoung || Yugyeom ||

Daytime

Originally posted by chichangyu

  • Let’s start off by saying that he is so selfless and kind in a relationship, like, he will text you to remind you to do basic everything things like eating or resting before he even thinks of doing it himself
  • And he’s going to be constantly thinking about you
  • “That reminds me of the time when {y/n} and I went to-”
  • “The park on your first date? yeah you mentioned it about thirty times in the last ten minutes, we get it.” 
  • Teasing by the other members
  • Of course it’s never nasty
  • Always fun and playful 
  • And Yugyeom gives zero fucks because he doesn’t have time for them basic bitches
  • “{y/n} has rather a few love marks at the moment”
  • “They’re beautiful right?”
  • Him admiring you from afar
  • And blushing when you notice
  • But never turning away
  • Staying at home dates because it’s one of the places he loves the most
  • Because at home is the place where the two of you are well and truly alone with no disruptions from band members or paparazzi to disrupt or stop the two of you. 
  • Sometimes he’ll want to do every day things with you like laundry or cooking because it reminds him of a normal life and allows him to forget about being idol and being famous for a while
  • Which to be honest is good for him, because it can get to anyone’s head if they’re in it for too long.
  • Of course, he loves being and idol and his fans mean so much to him as well as his band members
  • But sometimes he just likes to escape it, even for a little while
  • And you’re his best escape 
  • Him being shy
  • But it’s just so cute 
  • Him singing in the house
  • All the time
  • Like you’re pretty sure he’s having a mini X Factor competition in the shower every night as he sings at the top of his lungs 
  • You can’t complain though, not when he has the voice of an angel 
  • Cuddling whenever he can 
  • And kissing
  • Generally having a beautiful relationship with a beautiful man


Nighttime 

Originally posted by yugyeomism

  • He’s rather shy, but that’s not going to stop him from being sexy af in the sheets
  • Those dancing hips being put to very good use
  • Careful what you say, because you might just find yourself regretting it not
  • “Yugyeom, you’re such a crybaby”
  • “Really? even when I make you cry baby every time you orgasm because it’s so good?”
  • “Okay fair point.” 
  • Him cuddling you in bed like his life depends on it
  • Shy smiles when you tell him that you love him
  • And even those he’s flustered he won’t hesitate to return the same words 
  • Him kissing you on the forehead as you fall asleep
  • And running his hands through your hair
  • Him singing at night as well
  • When he’s getting ready for bed and putting his PJ’s on
  • When he’s shaving
  • When he’s brushing his teeth
  • He almost loves singing as much as he loves you
  • and that is a lot. 
A little about me!

Hey guys and girls, just want to give a little information about myself. I’m 28yo born in New Jersey, I’m currently living in Florida. I became obsessed with black guys since I was 12 with my first boyfriend. That whole saying “once you go black you never go back” is true for me. Around college is when I fell in love with bbc.. I got married to a black guy and had 2 kids. He ended up doing somthing and no I’m single :). Know I just have friend with benefits that I go to, to have fun. I also have a sissy boy toy that I fuck with my strap on on occasions.. I made this page to express what I love. If you don’t like it just don’t follow.. I hope you guys and girls enjoy. If you have any questions please pm me! Xoxo

The Middle

Written for @spnpolybingo​. This fills the “Who is the middle spoon?” square.

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Cas change their sleeping arrangements after a scary experience. Takes place after 12 x 12.

Warning: 12 x 12 spoilers, Wincestiel, mentions of smut

Word Count: 545

A/N: This one is short, but I hope you like it! Only tagging @justanothersaltandburn and @purgatoan because I’m not sure who else wants to read the poly. XOXO

They fall asleep wherever they land in their gigantic bed.

Sometimes, they’re exhausted from a hunt- or worse, injured from one- and they gingerly settle into the first available space on the mattress. Whoever is best able is the one responsible for getting all three of them undressed, Sam pulling off Cas’ tie or Dean gently working Sam’s jeans down his legs, both Sam and Cas helping Dean stretch out with bruised ribs as he cusses at them. Once the injured party is taken care of, the others just fall in where there’s room, contorting their large bodies if necessary, never sleeping like ordinary people.

Keep reading

skin & bones

pairing: draco malfoy x hermione granger

setting: modern, non-magical, post-break up au

word count: 697 

written for: @silvermaze [happy birthday, lovely! xoxo]


It’s a crisp, clear day in early November when it happens.

Hell freezes over.

Hermione Granger—all five and a half feet of her, smooth brown skin and chapped pink lips and a thick cloud of hair pushed back off her face with a red cotton headband—she steps through the jingling side door of the midtown Starbucks Draco does most of his writing at.

It’s been…years, technically, since he’d last seen her. Years. Years since he’d sold his first play, and years since her blog had gone viral, and years since he’d stopped instinctively searching for her at industry parties, in hole-in-the-wall Brooklyn diners, on crowded fluorescent-lit trains hurtling around like pinballs beneath the city streets.

She looks almost eerily identical to how she’d looked when he’d ended things. Black tights. Knee-length sweater dress. Raggedy thrift store Burberry scarf. She’s got a scuffed leather jacket on, and shiny brown Oxfords, and the antique seed-pearl locket he’d given her for their very first Christmas together.

Draco can’t help himself.

He stares.

She hasn’t noticed him yet.

He continues staring.

And he feels a swift spike of adrenaline, electric and fierce, pummel him in solar plexus—an urge to do something, say something, act and react, because—

His second play had been a tragicomic exploration of classism at an elite, all-boys Connecticut prep school. Hermione hadn’t reviewed it on her blog—hadn’t reviewed anything Draco had written, ever—but she had, at the time, shared without comment a snippet from a New Yorker article about “pretentious Ivy League dropouts with Tempurpedic trust funds polluting the Broadway shadows with their fourth-generation WASP guilt”; and Draco had always known, somewhere deep deep deep in his gut, that Hermione had been the one to give him a chance, back when they’d been dating. It had never been the other way around. He wonders if he should’ve told her that. Before. During. After.

Now.

“Hermione?” he blurts out, unable to completely mask his astonishment.

It takes her less than a second to recognize his voice—and then she’s stiffening, posture going ramrod straight and jaw visibly clenching, and when she finally turns to look at him, there’s a wary spark of irritation in her eyes. They hadn’t parted on good terms. It’s harder for him to remember that than it should be.

“Draco Malfoy,” she says, and it’s not—it’s not quite a greeting. An invitation for further conversation. She states his name like she’s making an observation. Like he’s furniture. Decoration. Unnecessary. It stings, frankly, and he guesses that was her intention. “This is a little…down-market for you, isn’t it?”

“It’s good for inspiration,” he immediately answers. He doesn’t blink. He’s afraid to. “The people here. They’re—normal.”

She lifts an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the line beginning to form at the register. “The people at the Times Square Starbucks are normal to you,” she replies, in that same vaguely incredulous tone she used to reserve for biweekly dinners with his parents. “Really.”

Draco doesn’t blush. He’s twenty-eight fucking years old. Pretty girls with judgmental smiles and intimidation in their veins didn’t get to him like this. Nott anymore. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” she says, somewhat dryly; somewhat bitterly, if he’s being honest with himself. “I don’t think I do.”

Silence descends, awkward and heavy. “How’ve you…been?” he tries, before wincing. “I just—I read your critique. About Shakespeare and, and feminism. Last month. In the Post.”

Surprise colors her features. “You did?” she murmurs, gaze flicking from the Adam Ant sticker on his laptop, to the doubtless idiotic expression on his face, to the slightly dry blueberry scone sitting on a napkin by his elbow.

“Yeah,” he sighs, because of course he did. He’s read everything she’s ever published. “Yes.”

She pauses, opening her mouth like she wants to speak again—but ultimately, she doesn’t, just studies him with a quizzical tilt of her head, the moment stretching on and on and on, for so long that it doesn’t end so much as it…fades.

“You…write here, then?” she eventually asks, clearing her throat. “Often?”

He relaxes.


Three days later, she comes back.


Nearly Lost You

Characters – Sam x Reader

Summary – A hot meal after a hunt goes south fast – can Sam act fast enough to save the reader’s life?

Word Count – 3,314

Warnings – Allergies and severe allergic reactions, some angst, and some fluff to make up for the angst.  

A/N – Fluffy Sam request from a sweet Nonnie: “Is it alright if I request a Sam x reader angsty-fluff? Plot being that some how the reader has an allergic reaction (personally I’m allergic to peanuts) to something and Sam freaks out. Then like when Sam has trouble finding the readers epi pen or whatever he confesses his love to her because he’s scared to lose you. But can the reader live please?! Thank you!! Stay awesome darling! Xoxo”

Requests are definitely open, and thank you, Nonnie, for yours!  I hope you enjoy it!  As always, feedback is much appreciated!   And special thanks to @waywardlullabies and @sleepywinchester for granting this story the “Dad’s Journal II” Award for Lauren’s Favorite Fic at their Tumblr Awards.

Originally posted by hallowedbecastiel

Your name: submit What is this?


You were freezing. You made a note to yourself – no more hunts in north Minnesota in the winter.  Rubbing your arms to attempt to get some heat and feeling back in them, you glanced behind you at the boys.  They made their way over to you with the body of the ghoul you’d just dispatched and threw it into the pit you’d dug.  Lighting it up, the three of you stood there, trying to stay warm by the fire of the burning corpse while trying not to gag on the stench. Finally, it was too much for you.

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What’s Yours is Mine

Summary: Sam and Dean enjoy sharing each other’s clothes.

Warning: Smut, blow jobs, anal sex

Word Count: 3150

A/N: I enjoyed writing this request so much! Hope you all like it, too! XOXO


Sam’s been wearing Dean’s hand-me-down clothes since he was born. In every one of Dean’s childhood memories, he can see Sam wearing his old clothes, sleeves too long, waistbands too loose, stray threads sticking out at the seams.

But when Sam hits puberty, they start fitting almost perfectly. Sam’s a little skinnier than Dean, but it never really shows in the clothing. Proper fit didn’t stop Sam from hating them, though.

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Soulmate AU #1 Charles Xavier

AU: Everyone has the first sentence their soul mate will say to them tattooed onto their body.

Originally posted by julee-art

Not my gif

Words: too many… 2357

Warnings: I didn’t proofread, like one swearword, fem!reader

A/N: I have come to the conclusion that there are by far not enough soulmate AUs with the x-men, so I decided to try my luck. I hope it’s not too bad lol enjoy! xoxo

“Hey, let’s get a coffee after this!”, Kim suggested, picking up a bunch of flyers and dropping them down a stairwell. You watched them sail to the ground one by one, feeling their flowing movements tickle your mind. “I can’t, I have a lecture.”

“Come on!”, she groaned and waving a You only live once flyer in front of your face. “You hate that class. And the professor and the book.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have to go.” Silence. “No offence, but how the hell are we even friends? Like, how have we become acquainted?”, Kim asked. “Opposites attract.” “Which is why your soul mate is going to be the most outgoing party person you have ever met!”, she said, leaning against the rail. “You should meet him half way. If he’s a party person, you will meet him at a party. Which means that you have to attend a party. Ideally the Christmas Festival tomorrow night.”

“If you want me to come, you could just ask.”, you replied and put the pile of books you were carrying onto the windowsill next to you. “You wouldn’t come.” “Well, I am here, helping you carry out invitations to some kind of drug convention.” “Good point.” “I know.”

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Jealous-Scandalous-Idiot Love

Plot (Requested): Draco broke up with you, but he regretted it when you started hanging out too much with Blaise.

Warnings: Lots of Feelings.

Word Count: 897.

Author’s Note: If you want an imagine with your name, send me a request. English is NOT my first language, so if there are grammatical mistakes, you can text me and I’ll correct them. Thanks for the request darling. (◕‿◕✿) Hope you all like it. Xoxo.

It’s been a week since Draco broke up with you, but still you denied believing that. How could he believe that it was your fault that his father went to jail? Sure, you knew about the Dumbledore’s Army, but you’d never imagine that they’ll act against the Dark Lord, who’d says that Lucius would be involved.

Now, all you wanted to do was sit alone in the grass and wait for the last month of class to pass, so you could go home, far from your stupid ex boyfriend.

“Adel? What are you doing here? We’ve got class in a few minutes.”

You turned around to face your best friend, Blaise. He looked worried, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth sketching a smile.

“I know Blaise, I just…”

“Don’t want to go to class knowing that Malfoy is going to be there too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hear me, I know he’s mad at you, but he’s mad at everyone right now. What happened with his father… He’ll get over it and then he’ll come back to you. Don’t worry. In the min time, I’m here for anything you need.”

You smiled. It’s good to know you had someone to count with, and Blaise was actually a great option. When you’re with Draco, he’s too jealous to understand that you wanna hang around with your male friends, but now, you two were going to have time to catch up.

“Let’s go to class. You don’t want Snape to be forgive his favorite student in front of everyone.”

“Hey! Just because he likes me that doesn’t mean I get advantage.”

“I weren’t talking ‘bout you, I’m his favorite student.”

“A boy can dream.”, you joked and got up, going to potions class with him.

Two Weeks Later…

Draco hasn’t talked to you yet, but instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you decided to enjoy the last days of class. Blaise particularly was helping you a lot to get over the pain; he was always joking around you, making you laugh and forget your problems.

“Can you believe it? She actually tried to kiss me! I’m disgusted.”

Blaise was doing drama, cause a Ravenclaw girl tried to kiss him. You were laying in his lap, laughing at his unbelievable insensitivity.

“Poor girl, Zabini. She must be heartbroken right now.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t just try to force someone to kiss you.”

In that moment, Draco walked in, looking at you to and rolling his eyes. Of course, as you were laying in Blaise’s lap, you couldn’t see it, but your friend could, and being so tired of that uncomfortable situation between you and Malfoy, he decided to help (in a not so discreet way).

“I mean, I understand her, of course, who wouldn’t want to kiss me?” He asked at you. You lough.

“How can you be so full of yourself?”

“I don’t know, but you must like it right? You were with Draco.”

At the mention of his name, the blonde boy turned to you, clearly annoyed, but also curious to see what you were going to say next.

“And you think I like you because of that?”

“I’m sure.” Blaise looked at Malfoy and pretended to bow over you as he was going to kiss you. That was the last drop needed to Draco to freak out. He got up and leaded to the sofa, pulling you from Blaise.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO DO ZABINI?” He screamed.

“Relax man, I was doing what I had to.”

“What you had to? You were going to fucking kiss my girl!”

“Excuse me?” You asked, trying to do not smile at the fact that he just called you “his girl” and focusing in the overly possessive attitude.

“Last time I checked, Malfoy, you broke up with her for something that was not her fault. She’s not your girl.” Draco blushed. He was screaming in the middle of the Common Room, making a hell of a scene and at the end, he was the wrong. “But”, Blaise continued, “she misses you as much as I’m sure you miss her. So fix thinks, you fucking idiot.”

He left the room smiling. You and Draco faced each other for a time, till you let go of his grip and run away. He ran after you, reaching you at an empty hall.

“Adel, I’m sorry…”

“Malfoy, I’m not in the mood for an argument, ok?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. Listen, I just want to apologize for what I’ve done, not only in the Common Room right now, but weeks ago, I shouldn’t have blamed you for something you couldn’t know, and I really regret it, ok? Seeing Zabini there, ready to kiss you, that… I don’t know how to explain, I just couldn’t let that happens. I…”

“What, Draco?” You asked, trying to stop your heart from melting with his words.

“I can’t lose you, and I’m sorry. Forgive me, please. I need you, Adelaine.”

Sighing, you opened your arms and hugged him. Draco pressed you against his chest, berrying his nose on your hair.

“It’s ok, you scandal king.”

He lough, and kissed the top of your head.

“Whatever you want. Just keep in mind that makes you the Scandal Queen. And that you love me.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that he couldn’t be more right.

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