me? In love with Potter? Absurd. Ridiculous. What's there to love? His spectacularly green eyes? His I-just-got-shagged hair? His salted-caramel skin? The wrinkling of his nose when he eats something he doesn't like during lunch? The way his brows furrow in Potions? The smile that lights up the great hall? His annoyingly attractive smirk? Nope. Nothing to like. Not a damn thing.
Ever since New York and I can't stop thinking about Liza and Harry ❤️❤️❤️💔Can you write a little something for Liza and Harry ?
Eliza Sutherland can’t believe she’s in New York. She had no plans to leave her flat this weekend, let alone make the trek through Heathrow to the States. But here she is—out of breath and thirty minutes late—running across the street to Studio 8H. She’s practically arguing her way in when Jeff finally shows up and insists she’s the list. She’s annoyed for all of five seconds. She hears his voice float through the halls with grit and grace and her heart stops in a way she wishes it wouldn’t.
prepare your "why i'm still single" speech to give to the fam while you can
how about "Well you see, Aunt Druella, I just value my academic studies and my future higher than finding a relationship. All the half-boods only want sex. And you know, as a righteous pure-blood, I cannot condone this behavior. I'd rather just shag my cousin to keep the bloodline clean."
they won't suspect anything until i devour Remus for dessert
if for some reason your sexuality slips, do yourself a favor and don't mention the fact that your boyfriend is a half-blood werewolf
Fandom: Kingsman: The Secret Service Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader Word Count: 4,353 Summary: You and Eggsy are sent on a mission in Paris to stop the assassination of a museum director. The two of you have worked together before, but this time Merlin requires that the two of you pose as newlyweds. Along the way there are several death threats, several art museums, and maybe even something along the lines of actual love. A/N: I don’t own anything and this wasn’t edited, so any errors are mine. All French phrases are translated at the bottom of the story!
It suddenly occurs to you that, were Merlin not physically barring you from it, you could actually kill Eggsy.
Scanning the room quickly, you can think of at least 3 painless methods of execution and 17 incredibly painful ones.
You wonder if the stylus in Merlin’s grasp could be sharpened fast enough to stab Eggsy in the throat.
Summary - The one where Joe finally (maybe) gets the girl.
I always had my eye on (Y/N). The boys and I were such regulars at this club that I saw her every time I went. She was my go-to bartender and I didn’t know if it was because she mixed good drinks or if she was just so damn sexy that she had me hypnotized. I knew I wanted to take her home with me, but I never knew how to get her on the other side of that counter.
I took home a different girl every night, never remembering their names or how they got in my bed. They were always gone in the morning, usually leaving behind a note with their number and an xo - call me. I never did.
One week I had a fair few more sips to drink than normal. I was feeling confident. So I walked up to the counter, giving (Y/N) a cheeky smile. “What can I get for you now Joe?” she asked with a smile. We were on a first name basis, so I was feeling good.
“You can get your butt on this side of the counter is what you can do!” I said, slamming my hand on the table matter-of-factly.
“What?” she laughed.
“You heard me!” I said. “Come dance with me!”
“I’m working,” she said, wiping down a spilled drink from the counter.
“Oh bullshit!” I said. “Just call it a night. Come on, how many times does a strapping man like me ask you to dance?”
And so, she did.
We made our way to the dance floor, dancing with our bodies pressed together. I had my hand on her lower back, holding her body close to mine. I had completely lost track of time or where the boys went, but I didn’t care.
The night went on and (Y/N) ended up at my house. Almost no words were spoken between us. The entire Uber ride there was filled with us kissing in the backseat, my hand traveling farther and farther up her leg. When we got to my flat, I lead her into the bedroom.
As soon as I shut the door, I pulled my shirt over my head. (Y/N) was already on the bed, so I walked over to her and flipped her around so she was laying on her stomach. I unzipped her dress, tugging it off her body, then kissed from her shoulder down to her bra clasp and unhooked it. I quickly kicked off my jeans and boxers, hating the way they made me feel so restricted. I rolled a condom onto myself, then gripped her ass in my hands. I heard her let out a tiny moan. “What was that?” I asked, a smirk dancing on my lips.
“Joe,” she groaned. “Do something. You’re killing me.”
With no hesitation, I pulled her underwear down her legs and pulled her body up so that she was on her hands and knees. Then I gripped her hips and slammed into her. Her head fell forward and she let out a moan. I pulled her lightly by her hair, bringing her neck closer to me so I could kiss it. I knew I was leaving marks but the moans coming from her mouth just kept me going.
I didn’t know how close she was getting, so I brought my hand around to her front, rubbing her clit roughly. She gasped and moaned out my name, tossing her head back. “Just like that,” she groaned. “Oh god, Joe I’m so close.”
“Come on,” I said, nipping at the skin below her ear. “Let go.”
I only had to thrust a few more times before we both finished. She fell onto the bed once I pulled out of her. I took a moment to catch my breath then threw the condom in the trash beside my bed. I hardly had a moment to relax on the bed before (Y/N) got up and grabbed her underwear and bra that had been thrown across the room. “You’re going?” I said, propping myself up by my elbows.
“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.
“I mean, it’s pretty late, and, and you’re probably tired,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “I know your plans for the rest of tonight probably don’t include me but, I mean, if you want to stay… you’re already here.”
In the midst of all my stammering, (Y/N) walked over to my balcony, staring through the glass door. “This view is incredible,” she said, her arms folded across her chest. “Kind of makes you feel like you’re sheltered from the world. I bet that’s nice sometimes.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to follow her train of thought while slipping on my boxers and walking over to her.
“The stars are bright tonight,” she added before I could say anything else. “You can see them all.”
“Well there are billions,” I teased lightly. “Can’t quite see them all.”
“And they’re so far away,” she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the night sky. I stared at her curiously until she shook her head, as if to snap herself out of a trance. “Sorry. I should go.”
“You don’t have to go,” I said.
“What if people see me in the morning?”
“No one will care,” I promised. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just think about right now. We’ve got tonight, don’t worry about tomorrow.” She looked me square in the eyes for almost the first time that night. Her eyes were (Y/E/C), something I never noticed in the dark club. They were beautiful. “Why don’t you stay?” I said quietly.
I didn’t know what it was that had me begging her to stay. I usually didn’t give a damn about the girls who walked in and out of my door. What made (Y/N) so different? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I would hate myself if I let her walk out without a fight. “Why?” she said. I quirked an eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you want me to stay?” she said. Before I could say anything, she said, “I hear what they say about you at the club. Almost every girl there talks about you. You watch them leave and never call them again. Why do you want me to stay?”
I took a step back from her. “I don’t know,” I said. “Every time I go there I see you and, well, at first I thought I just wanted the shag, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe there’s more to it. Maybe, maybe deep in my soul I’ve been lonely but I just gave up hope of finding anybody. So I would take home every girl and then not give a damn the next day because i gave up. You, well, you’re making me not want to give up.” (Y/N) didn’t say anything so I awkwardly turned around and ran my fingers through my hair. “Well, there it is,” I said once I turned to face her again. “You broke the infamous Joe Sugg. Now I’ve told you everything, and here we are. So, what do you say?”
Maybe I was imagining it, but there was a faint blush on (Y/N)’s cheeks. She picked up the t shirt I had thrown on the ground and pulled it over her head. “Turn out the light,” she said, nodding to the lamp I left on in the corner. I did so and, with the moonlight shining on her face, I saw her smile. “Come on, take my hand,” she said, holding out her arm to me. Once again, I listened and took hold of her hand, letting her walk with me over to the bed.
We both laid down, (Y/N)’s head on my chest and my arms wrapped around her. “We’ve got tonight,” she said quietly, nuzzling her face in my chest. “Who needs tomorrow?”
The words played on repeat in Joe’s head, over and over and over. The flash of the pitying smile as she turned away fading in and out with the words.
He didn’t know how to react.
Was he supposed to be mad? Sad? Hate her? Rejoice that he was now single once more?
Except, had he been in a relationship for the past nearly two months, considering she only called him a good shag before walking away.
The break up, if that’s what it could be called, happened almost three days ago, and Joe had yet to tell any of his mates.
He hadn’t even seen anyone. And had been silent across all social media and in his group chats. He just wasn’t sure what to tell them.
Because he had always talked about his girlfriend, is that even the right term?, and how great things were going, but then it turned out they weren’t even that serious.
Did he just come out and say, hey, turns out I was just a good shag and nothing more, or did he lie and say they broke up?
Since he was unsure, Joe remained silent, avoiding everyone.
He really should have known better though.
The fourth day after his ‘break up’ there was a knock on his door.
Turning the heat down on his stove, Joe made his way over to the door, wondering who could be there since the intercom hadn’t gone off.
“Oh, look! You are alive!” Jack grinned, lifting his phone to snap a picture, “There, proof for the boys.” He explained, brushing past Joe and into the flat. “Are you cooking? Smells good!”
“Sure, Jack, come on in,” Joe drawled, swinging the door close before following after the younger man.
Of all the people to show up, it would be him. Of course it would.
“Is it just you?” Jack’s eyes followed Joe as he rounded back around the counter, adjusting the heat and continuing to cook, “Or is she here too?”
“Why do you say it like that?” Joe wrinkled his nose, “She.”
“Answer the question.”
“No, it’s just me. I’m alone. Well, I was before you invited yourself in. How did you even get in here anyways?!”
“Someone let me in,” Jack waved it off, studying the older man, “The better question is why the hell have you been avoiding us all for the past few days?”
“You still talk to us when you’re busy. How many times have you whined to me about how busy you are? Begging me to come over and help out because you didn’t want to suffer alone?” Jack’s blue eyes were piercing, and Joe quickly shifted his gaze away, focusing on the food in the pan.
“What’s going on, Joe?” The tone was softer this time, and without him realizing it, Joe let it out.
“Apparently I’m nothing more than a good shag. She dumped me. That’s why I’ve been avoiding everyone. Because what was I supposed to do?! My girlfriend wasn’t even my bloody girlfriend!” Slamming the wooden spoon back down onto the counter, Joe let out a breath, staring at the pan.
Apparently he was angry. And hurt.
“You’re more than just a good shag…” His eyes snapped up to meet Jack’s.
“How would you know? We’ve never slept together.”
“Which is exactly how I know.” Jack shifted in his seat, nervousness evident on his face. “Joe, she was stupid if she was only with you for sex, because you’re so much more than that. And since we haven’t slept together, I’m a pretty good judge of that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re one of the funniest guys I know. You never fail to make me laugh until my sides hurt. But you’re also caring and compassionate. How many times have I come to you with a problem, big or small, and you’ve helped me through it?” Joe shrugged, fiddling with the wooden spoon, but Jack carried on, “You’re kind. You help out people even when they try to act like they don’t need it. You’re incredibly loyal, to your friends and family. And you work so hard.”
“I mean…I guess,” Joe blushed, looking up at Jack from under his lashes.
“The fact that you’re attractive is really just a bonus, although an annoying one, because how does one not fall for you when you’re everything?” Jack’s cheeks turned red and his mouth snapped shut quickly, the realization of his words washing over him.
“Wait…what?” Joe blinked over at Jack.
“I didn’t like your girlfriend, or shag buddy, whatever you want to call her, because not only did she mistreat you, but she was in the position I wanted to be.” Jack admitted, taking a breath, he met Joe’s stare: “I like you, Joe. A lot.”
“But I know you just got out of a…relationship? Whatever it was. And so you’re probably not ready. But I accidentally spilled it to you, so figured might as well just own it.” The younger man shrugged, a nervous smile on his lips. “And its fine if you don’t like me back, really. I’ve been managing with this for a while now.”
“I do like you though.” Joe blurted out. “I just…I didn’t know you liked me. And then she came along…and well, yeah.”
“So she was only a good shag too?” Jack teased, leaning forward against the work top.
“No,” Joe shook his head, “I don’t think so.”
“Well, what do you want to do then?”
“With…us.” Jack nodded between them,
“I think…I think we just see where it takes us.”
“And once we sleep together,” Jack grinned, “I’ll tell you if she really was with you just because you were a good shag.”
“Oh shut up,” Joe laughed, throwing a piece of pepper over at Jack.
And even if he really only was a good shag to her, at least it helped him finally admit his feelings to Jack.
DJ bounces in from his bedroom with ‘just shagged’ hair’. He wears nothing but a silk, paisley-patterned dressing gown and purple, velvet slippers with elaborate gold brocade initials: 'DJ’.
He poses - deliriously. A cigarette in his mouth, bottle of malt whisky in his hand. He snorts a line from a small, coke-laden, mirrored coffee table and leaps in the air with uncontrollable joy. Now he starts dirty-dancing with the women. They bump and grind, having a ball.
Don Juan in Soho, stage directions at the beginning of Act Four
Tentoo has other ideas about how to spend their morning.
This is NOT a Photoshop filter, every stroke is painted by me.
He gave a rumbly little growl as he came up behind her, hands finding her waist, he dipped his head to nuzzle her neck and shoulder. “Come back to bed,” he all but purred.
Rose grinned, carefully adjusting her hold on the mug she was holding so he wouldn’t make her drop it. “Doctor, I’m trying to look at the weather report,” she said, her eyes on the tablet in front of her. “And I made coffee.”
He growled again, this one more aggressive, as he fitted himself more firmly against her, trapping her between him and the counter. Her breath caught as he rutted his morning erection along the cleft of her arse. His hands slid down, his fingers finding the hem of the long t-shirt she’d worn to bed last night, beginning to pull it upward, inch by inch.
“Sod the coffee,” he said, his voice low and raspy from sleep. “You want to know the weather? We’ll do it facing the window.”
Not really. Not really, Matthew. Is there something you want to share with us? "Like shagging the dog?"
Yeah, if you don't work very hard, you're just shagging the dog.
NOT IN THIS COUNTRY, SIR! IN THIS COUNTRY WHEN WE SHAG A DOG WE KNOW WHAT WE ARE DOING! And it is pretty hard work, let me tell you... Not as easy as it looks, let me tell you that. So, in Canada, you have the phrase "shagging the dog"?
Yeah, or "shagging the sheep" if you want.
Again, perfectly common practice over here, but not considered a light or unburdensome task.
It just means, like, having an easy day.
There's a lot I have to learn about Canada...
So this started out as a Drarry Advent drabble but turned into a full blown Muggle Au Barista!Harry story and I loved it too much to wait until December to post it. This is for my lovely @justanotherdrarryblog who loves coffee and barista!Harry.
It has been an unbelievably busy day, Harry thinks to himself as he takes a deep breath and foams the milk for what feels like his one thousandth latte of the day.
“Hang in there, Harry. Just half an hour more and we’re off for the day,” Ron says good-naturedly, clapping him on the back as he passes him by, heading towards the register.
“Easy for you to say mate,” Harry responds with a shake of his head. Ron doesn’t say anything, just waggles his eyebrows at Harry who sticks his tongue out when no one is looking before going back to making the coffee.
He reaches his right hand out towards the stack of drink cups waiting to be made, picking up the empty paper cup closest to him, ready for his next order. But as he reads the side he can’t help but frown a bit at the ridiculously long list of instructions on the side of the cup which read - 4 shots, whole milk only, two shots of hazelnut syrup, one shot of vanilla syrup, half a pump of classic (added before the shots), extra hot, add whipped cream.
As quickly as possible he fills the order, trying not to make much of a face when he yells out “Draco, your order is ready”, as he sets the drink on the small counter. He can’t help but wonder what the hell kind of name Draco is anyway.
“Did you follow the instructions specifically?” He hears a voice utter, with a rather posh accent.
“Of course I did. I do know how to read,” he replies automatically, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and not even bothering to look up until he hears a rather loud tut tut.
“Gracious me, what kind of manners are they teaching their employees to have here? The customer is always right you know.”
Harry finally looks up at that, an annoyed frown marring his features as he takes in the man in front of him. He can’t stop himself from looking him up from head to foot, taking in his perfectly tailored suit and fancy shoes to the way his impossibly blond hair falls softly into his grey eyes, such a strong juxtaposition to his otherwise rigid look. As Harry stares he can’t help but wonder how it’s possible to be so pale, and if hair that blonde is even natural. He’s all sharp angles with his pronounced jawline and sharp eyebrows, and he is so ridiculously handsome and put together all it does it make Harry grumpier.
“See something you like?” The man says with a laugh, raising his eyebrow to smirk at him and Harry has the decency to blush crimson.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right, course you don’t. See you tomorrow coffee boy,” he says, raising his drink to his mouth and winking at Harry as he takes his first sip.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom:Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Sex, Just Sex, and dinner, Valentine’s Day, Valentine’s Day Fluff, Smut, No Angst, they are just happy to shag, there is zero plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, after s4 fuckery i needed to write something where they are actually kissing and fucking, Also the writing is bad, I warned ya, i write like shit
It’s Valentine’s day and they are having drunk sex. That’s all you need to know.
Happy Valentine’s day everyone!
Tagging some peeps under the cut. Hope you don’t mind
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You are like a bloody crup with a bone. Is this even an official questioning? I was with Juniper. You can ask her, if you seriously think I’m a suspect.”
Harry frowned. “Juniper from—”
“From Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, yes, that Juniper,” Malfoy drawled, his arms still folded, and his fingers drumming on his upper arms.
“Where were you two?” Harry asked. He wasn’t sure he did suspect Malfoy, not really, but he felt he had to continue now.
“Here, having a shag down in section E-8,” Malfoy said, his lips twisting into a smirk. “There will still be a magical trace if you want it confirmed. She prefers spells to potions.”
Harry felt his face heat up. “Here? Doesn’t records stay open all night?”
“The threat of discovery is half the fun.” Malfoy was definitely having fun with Harry’s embarrassment. His posture had relaxed, and his face was open.
“You’re mad,” Harry said, shaking his head, and wondering how he was going to face Juniper the next time he had to work with MoMA.
Malfoy snorted, making a wild hand gesture. “If you haven’t had a shag somewhere you might get caught, you haven’t lived,” he said.
“I’ll take your word on it then,” Harry muttered, wishing he’d never questioned him at all.
“Why stop there?” Malfoy asked, stepping closer, still smirking. “No one’s around, fancy a go?”
Harry, who had been in the process of picking up the file he’d requisitioned, fumbled it, and felt his face heat up even more.
“What about Juniper?” he asked stupidly, as if that was the only thing strange about the offer.
Malfoy’s smirk turned into a grin, as if Harry had confirmed something for him. He stepped even closer, and Harry swallowed nervously. He’d expected a little physical proximity from questioning him, but not this kind.
“It’s just casual, with her, just when we’re both working late. She won’t care, she’s also shagging some bloke in the Transport office.”
Harry felt his mouth go dry, and rather thought it was a good time to point out that fact he didn’t go for blokes, only…only Malfoy’s breath was warm on his lips, and then they were kissing, and it wasn’t nearly as repulsive as Harry might have expected.
“So…Malfoy and I shagged in the filing room yesterday,” Harry said.
Ron, put his drink down and looked him over. “You did not.”
“Okay, it wasn’t shagging-shagging, just wanking each other,” Harry said, feeling awkward. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
After blinking rapidly a few times, Ron whistled, and picked his drink back up. “Good for you, mate. Didn’t think you had it in you, doing someone at work.”
Harry flushed. “I didn’t think I had it in me to do something with a bloke, but well, Malfoy, I guess.”
“Makes sense, actually, he’s always the exception to everything with you,” Ron commented with a shrug, before seeming to freeze and look confused. “Wait, didn’t you suspect him of being the information leak?”
“Yeah, a bit,” Harry answered. Although, he still wasn’t entirely sure if his suspicions were genuine, or because of their history. Shagging only made things more complicated. It was so unprofessional, he wanted to suspend himself. He was half tempted to check for that magical trace in section E-8 to confirm Malfoy’s alibi. As if that would make things better.
“Oh, new interrogation technique you lot use over in non-violent? And people say we Aurors have all the fun,” Ron said with a cheeky grin.
“Shove off,” Harry muttered, which only made Ron start laughing.
This was going to be for a new story when I have time, but I’m now stealing the plot for a sequel for something else, so this scene will change too much, and thus, it can be posted as a random unattached snippet =)
Summary: Dean and Sam fight and Sam leaves for California. Dean doesn’t let Jess go with him so she remains silent all the way to Idaho. You and Dean end up in a tight situation with seemingly no way out (actual episode plot this time omg)
Dean x Reader, Sam x Jess
A/N: this is part of my ‘Jess never died’ rewrite, find the masterpost here