like how on jesus christ can he makes such a face

DOCTOR DREAMY | PT.2 [M]

pt1 | pt2 | (ongoing)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: smut, fluff, slight angst + expecting parents au

word count: 11,035

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin

description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

cr. 


six years prior.

“Do you wanna have kids one day?”

Jimin tilted his head as if to ponder the idea before tugging you across the bed until you were leaning against his chest, curious eyes catching your own.  

“Sure, I mean one day. One day, far, far away,” He said, pointing his finger off into the distance jokingly.

You laughed, hand skimming along the back of his neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Any particular reason why you’re asking?” He said as he began playing with the strands of your hair.

“I dunno,” You shrugged. “We’ve been dating for a long time, just thought that it’s something we should know about each other.”

Jimin nodded, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of something you should figure out before things get too far in the relationship… Guess we waited a bit too long, but we’re on the same page, so that’s good,” He smiled, leaning down to place a short peck against your lips.

“So that means you think that information will be put to good use one day?” You asked, quirking your brow to insinuate.

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Sheriff Knows Best

Stiles/Derek, G, 2K words, Sheriff POV, Coffeeshop AU, matchmaker!Sheriff

(Credit for the title to @cobrilee!)

This is an expansion of the following idea, written by the lovely @artemis69:

the coffee!AU, where John goes to the same coffee shop every day, and there is this very grumpy, quiet barista that always makes him amazing coffee and keep the best pastries for him. And one day the Sheriff learns that Derek is the one to bake them all, so he decides: this will be my son in law, I need a reason to have this man in my family for at least forty to fifty years. Then he matchmakes with no subtility whatsoever, basically offering his only son on a silver plate, Stiles spluttering all the way (but he takes Derek’s number anyway because the guy is just amazingly cute)

John’s on his regular morning stroll when he stops in his tracks and takes in the brand-new coffee shop, complete with a banner advertising their opening day. The little corner space has been boarded up for over a year, and John had no idea it was opening today.

Any new businesses are a boon for Beacon Hills, especially family-run ones like this one is rumored to be, so John ducks inside. It’s warm and homey, and there’s a pair of young dark-haired people behind the counter, close enough in features that they’re probably siblings. The quiet bickering points that direction, too.

They stop, though, when they see the Sheriff—the uniform tends to have that effect—and he pastes on his public servant smile. “Hi there. I saw this place was open and wanted to come on in and introduce myself. Sheriff John Stilinski.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” the woman says, holding out her hand for a shake. A nice strong grip—John likes this girl already. “I’m Laura Hale, and I own this place with my brother Derek, our resident grumpy barista-slash-baker.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Laura, but his smile to John is genuine, if small. “Hi, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, son,” he says, perusing the case full of tempting sugary treats. “You made these?”

He nods. “Can I get you anything?”

John hums. “A medium coffee, and…any one of these delicious-looking goodies. You pick. Just don’t tell my son,” he adds, and Derek looks up at him.

“Your son?”

“I have slightly elevated cholesterol,” he says, stressing the word. “Nothing to worry about, honestly. But he polices my diet. I don’t think he knows about this place yet, though, so this is great.”

Derek hums. His tongs hover over a muffin—lemon poppyseed, it looks like—before moving to another one. Raspberry-almond, according to the sign, and well, John isn’t picky. Derek drops it into a little bag and hands it over.

“Happy to help,” he says.

John thanks him and opens the bag. Laura’s still pouring his coffee, but it smells so damn good that he can’t resist.

“Wow,” he says, his mouth full. “This is delicious.”

Derek looks quietly proud, and Laura claps him on the shoulder as she reaches over to hand John his coffee. “On the house, today, Sheriff,” she says. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises.


“Thanks, Nina,” John says dryly, leaning back so she can put his plate in front of him.

“You’re welcome, Sheriff,” she says with a friendly smile, ignoring his stink eye.

Stiles just grins at both of them and digs into his French toast. He insists on having their weekly father-son breakfast at Paulie’s Diner because no matter what John orders, Nina will only bring him an egg-white omelet with a dry English muffin. Stiles must have some serious blackmail or be paying her off somehow, and John is, he has to admit, grudgingly impressed.

“Don’t look so bummed out, Pops,” Stiles says, around a mouthful of what’s surely syrup-drenched deliciousness. “At least I let you have turkey bacon.”

“It’s not the same,” he says grumpily, poking at it. “But at least I’m getting a steady stream of baked goods now.”

Stiles glares at him. “Are you serious? From where? I thought I had paid everyone off.”

He knew it. “I’m not telling you,” he says, a little displeased with how childish he sounds.

“Fine,” Stiles says, sniffing. “I’ll figure it out, you know I will.”

He will, John knows. Goddamn, he loves his kid, even if his life goal seems to be depriving John from any and all delicious food. “And speaking of, I met someone the other day,” he starts, and Stiles gasps theatrically, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Is this you crapping all over my dream of having Melissa as my stepmom?”

John sighs at the reminder. Melissa is…well, she seems happy with that Argent guy. Whatever. He’s not bitter.

“Not for me, Jesus,” he says, shaking his head. “For you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, slumping back in the booth. “Eye roll” is too mild, John thinks. It’s more of a whole head roll. “Seriously, Dad, I’m only 25. You don’t have to marry me off quite yet. You’ll get your grandchildren someday, I promise. Stop trying to set me up with people.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful!” John protests. “He seems nice.”

And makes really good treats, he adds in his head. That’ll be a good trait for a son-in-law.

“And who exactly is he?”

John pauses. “I met him at the aforementioned undisclosed location.” 

Stiles snorts. “Find out if he actually likes dudes, then get back to me.”

“Okay,” he says seriously, and Stiles grimaces.

“No, Dad, don’t actually—”

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Truth or Truth

Requested anonymously: A one shot where the reader has never been able to orgasm through masturbation. When Dean finds out, he offers to help.

Warning: smut, masturbation

Word Count: 2300

A/N: Hope you enjoy, anon! XOXO

“Truth or truth?” Dean asks, grinning a little sideways in that way that lets you know he’s just the right amount of drunk.

Truth or truth is the game you play when you’re both feeling a little wound up, needing to blow off some steam. You’re too old for stupid dares and too nervous for dares that might actually make you touch each other, so you settle for sticking to truths. It never amounts to anything, but you both enjoy the sexy words said in the dark as you lie together on one bed, a bottle being passed between you, like you have a life and a personality outside of monsters.

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He tries to make you jealous (Zach Dempsey)

shit, so i’ve been in love with thirteen reasons why recently. it’s got me hooked. zach dempsey has been one of my crushes on the show, so here’s one based on this prompt. i’d love taking suggestions! ring me up if you have any ideas- or, better yet, drop by my ask if you want me to make any more for you.

prompt: “i like you a lot, so i tried getting you jealous,” ft. zachary dempsey

Originally posted by pitterpratter


“Ah shit, Y/N,” Jess Davis groans as she wiggles into the tight row of cushioned chairs, trying to make her way to the middle of the line next to you. You giggle as the popcorn spills all around her clenched hand and into the laps of everyone nearby. There are whimpers of “Sorry, sorry!” and grunts before she finally lands into the cushioned chair next to you and sighs. “Ah Jesus, I didn’t know that would be so hard.”

"Maybe you should lay off the gummy worms,” You put in, and laugh as she glares at you and hits your arm. Your hand digs in the popcorn and you stuff a handful into your mouth, the satisfying crunch as you chew making you moan. Ah, popcorn. Jess rips open a pack of the gummies and snorts at you. “Maybe save those noises for Dempsey, hon.”

You choke on a kernel as she purses her lips trying not to laugh, her eyes steadying on the previews onscreen. A few snickers make it out either way, and you scowl at her and stuff more handfuls in your mouth.

Zach Dempsey and you, to put it lightly, were not friends. It was difficult to push you into a room together and not expect a night of sour jabs and endless bickering. Everyone at school knew it, and it was something that happened way before you were even freshmen. There was never a time you weren’t at each other’s throats. One time, he’d spilled liquor down the front of your dress at some party and you’d hidden his pants in a bush while he was in the hot tub later that night. Lately it’d been more of a joke between your friends, with Jessica mockingly swooning how romantic you two would be. 

The lights start to dim and you wiggle back into your seat, ready for some good old romcom- and then the Paramount clip cuts into black for a moment, making you groan and try to dodge whoever was blocking your view. You crane your entire body and glare daggers at the idiot who interrupted your film before it even started. You loved your movies, and you were pretty serious about getting the “full movie theatre experience” (which Jess liked to mock). Please, you were paying a good four dollars for a movie you could watch for free online. Your eyes rise up to the back of his head, taking in a mess of straight black hair, broad shoulders and the school’s infamous Letterman jacket hanging on them. You memorized the back of that head. You knew those shoulders.

It was Zach Dempsey. With him were Jason Friar and Justin Foley, all wearing their Lettermans. You felt Jess shift in her seat at the sight of them. Wrapped in Zach’s arm was a smaller girl, snuggled into his shirt and playing with his fingers around her neck. They scooched into the seats almost directly in front of you, with the girl turning her head suddenly and getting the tips of her ponytail in Zach’s mouth. He swats it away, annoyed, but smiles instantly when she turns her head to look at him.

“Oh no,” You moan, making Jess snicker at you. You don’t miss the way her eyes flicker to Foley and turn away. “Just what I needed.”

"Who’s the girl?” Jess wonders, squinting. “Not a cheerleader. That’s Jenny, I think. Or her friend Bryana. I can’t be sure. We have Com with them.”

"Ugh, who cares,” You roll your eyes and try to turn to the movie. As long as they don’t ruin your film. This was some good stuff showing- if you focused enough, maybe you could ignore them. Jess shrugs and follows suit. You take a sip of your cherry cola as Martin Freeman jogs up into the scene.

The movie drifts by, but you find that you don’t enjoy it as much as you would have. Your eyes keep landing on the back of Dempsey’s head- and as much as you hated it, his arm around the girl’s. Your popcorn started tasting sour. You focus on some surfer guy’s abs an hour in but your mind keeps drifting somewhere else. Suddenly, before you can even blink, Zach cranes his neck slowly and looks directly at you, as if he knew you were there the entire time. He catches you looking and his cheeks tinge pink as he whips back around. Jess snickers. “That’s like, the fourth time he’s done that.”

"What?” You blink. Wouldn’t you have noticed? Jess takes a slurp of her drink. “Yeah, didn’t you notice? I mean, he’s had like two bathroom breaks. Both times he’d looked right at you before he took his seat.”

You decide not to say anything and reach out for a gummy worm. You keep watch, but Zach never craned his head again.

The movie ends before you know it, and Jess is a mess. You can’t stop laughing at her state, and after a while she laughs with you and dabs at her tears with paper napkins, but her mascara’s everywhere. “Shit, Y/N, why aren’t you crying with me?” She scowls, and starts hicupping. You try to hide your smile. You find it best not to tell her that you were staring at other things than the movie.

The lights flick back on and the people file out. You grab your empty popcorn buckets and leave, but not before Jess excuses herself to the comfort room to freshen up. You drop the buckets in the trash can near the snacks counter in the lobby and wait for her, waving a hand at Hannah Baker, who was filling up drinks at the soda fountain. Your hand travels to your back pocket and realize your phone is missing, so you run back into the cinema’s swinging doors hoping not to find it lodged in between seats with a wad of chewed up gum.

You find something even more tramautizing. Sitting on Zach Dempsey’s lap was his date, clutching his face with her pale hands and making out with him. He’s fidgeting in his seat, but trying to keep still. You note that his hands are on the cup holders and not on her waist. Your face screws up and you groan in disgust, picking your phone up from floor. “Christ, Dempsey, get a room.”

Zach’s eyes widen and he scrambles up, pushing the girl out of his lap. “Yeah? Well, this was an empty room ‘til you showed up, Y/N.”

You snort, tucking your phone into your back pocket. “You’re a pig, Dempsey.” There are mumbles of "Ooh”’s from Foley as you stalk back to the entrance, where Jess was waiting for you, ready for some milkshakes at Rosie’s. You loop your arm in hers, failing to hear the “Shit, man,” and swears from inside the theatre.

-

You head into school next Monday with a great start, munching on your bagel as you make it to your locker. You’re wearing an oversized hoodie and high waisted jeans, but it doesn’t stop the jocks from whistling when you pass by. You roll your eyes at them and chew on your bagel as you turn the corner. High school boys were too immature. No wonder you never found the want to date one.

Passing by you in the hallway was Zach Dempsey, crowded with his band of loud friends who are laughing and pushing each other. You meet his eye and he stops, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and look away, and you can almost hear him sigh in defeat. Someone slaps him on the shoulder and whistles as you walk by. “Daaamn, Dempsey, you gotta let us share.” You don’t see him shove the guy and stalk off.

The first half of the day passes by like a breeze. By the time fourth period ends, you barely feel like the day has started. You head out for the cafeteria, stacking all your books in your arms and making it through the door, but it wasn’t long before you could hear footsteps running after you. “Hey, wait up, Y/N!”

You turn around and groan, continuing to walk. “Dempsey.” You try not to glance as he jogs up next to you and ruffles his hair, staring at you with this half grin of his you didn’t want to admit you liked.

“Uh, hey.” “Something you need?”

“No, uh, actually, I wanted to talk to you.” He looks at you sheepishly.

“Okay, talk.”

“Um, you look nice today,” He offers, biting his cheek. You stop, staring at him in disgust. “What?” He trails. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me.” You shake your head in disbelief and keep walking.

“What’s wrong?” He keeps up. “Seriously, Dempsey, are you hitting on me now?” “And why would that be so terrible?”

“Geez, Dempsey, what is wrong with you?” You deadpan. “You are such an ass, you know that? Do you always treat girls like shit?” You gape at his blank face. “Jenny. From last Saturday. You think it’s OK to throw girls around like that?”

“What? No! I- uh, Jenny and I aren’t serious, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He winces, scratching his neck.

“Yeah, right. Of course not.”

“Look, can I take you out this weekend? To Rosie’s maybe? I’ve wanted to maybe get to be with you out of school. We could go to the movies?” You’re at the cafeteria doors now, but Zach shuts them with his left arm, blocking the way in front of you. You snort. “You can’t be serious.” You watch as his face falls and his mouth twitches.

“What’s so bad about going out with me?”

“God, you are such a jerk, Zach!” You groan, throwing your free hand in exasperation. He winces at the sound of his name being used so hatefully- he’s only ever heard you say Dempsey. He tries to forget about all the times he’s dreamed of his name coming out of your mouth, but decides he hates it when you yell it at him. “You think it’s fun, don’t you? Having no respect for girls whatsoever. You get off buttering them up with kisses and flowers and take them to the movies only to ignore them completely a day or two later. Who, in their right mind, would ever want to go out with someone like you?”

“I only ever wanted to go to that fucking movie theatre because I heard you were going to be there!” His voice rises to a shout. It echoed through the halls, and you wince knowing someone would hear. “You think I wanted to watch that stupid chick flick, with all that shit about high heels and prom? Fuck, I never even liked Jen! Why would I when I’ve always wanted someone else?”

His breath was heavy. Suddenly it was hard to swallow. You try to stand your ground, staring at him. “Nice one. You think it’d be easy for me to believe that, what with your list of conquests and a new girl making out on your desk each week? You must be daft, Zach Dempsey.”

He scowls. “I never wanted them. Never. I just- I just thought that maybe if you saw that everyone wanted me, just maybe you would have wanted me too.” His face softens, and he starts fiddling with his fingers. “Okay, I get it. You could never want me. I know, I just thought I could change that somehow. I’m used to getting my way, you know. Girls flock me, throw themselves at me. I’m used to getting everything I want, but then you’re here, in front of me, and fuck, I’ve never wanted to kiss anything more in my life.”

“Okay,” You say softly, before you can stop yourself. He barely hears it, but his ears perk up. “What’d you say?”

“I said okay,” You clear your throat, and bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling as his lips form into a helpless grin. “Saturday night, Rosie’s?”
“Fuck yes!” He fistbumps the air, then stops as soon as he realises you’re still in front of him. You giggle and hide your face in your hands as he leans forward without thinking, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in the air. You couldn’t help your cheeks from turning red. Zach Dempsey was adorable. He really was.

“Okay, I’ll see you in Trig?” He asks, palming his phone in his front pocket. He’d have to tell Foley, he was thinking. Man, his best friend would be so proud. His head was rushing when he swooped in and pressed his lips to your flushed cheek. “I can’t wait.”




thanks for sticking around! give this a heart and reblog if you want more, and follow my blog if you want to be notified overtime i post a new imagine! this is a brand new blog and i’m so excited to see what ideas you might have for me.

27 Dress Code Violations

@jilychallenge 04/2017 | @bantasticbeasts vs @anxiouspotter

Muggle AUs | “i get dress coded so you give me your jacket and we protest unfair regulations for girls together/you sass the teacher about how distracted you are by my shoulders”

Word Count: 2500

special shoutout to @jiilys. solidarity, sister

AO3


i.

She walks into English fifteen minutes late, wearing both a deeply unflattering smock and a scowl. Neither are an especially new look on her.

“Vector,” she says under her breath, as an answer to Mary McDonald’s unspoken question. It’s the answer to every question in the room. Ms Vector is notorious among them all for her very strict adherence to the school’s dress code.

“Yes, Miss Evans’ entrance was very exciting, but I’ll have your attention back to the lesson now, please,” says Ms McGonagall. James snaps back to attention. It’s for the best.

ii.

“Here,” James says, shrugging off his jacket and thrusting it toward Lily. She gives him this look like, fuck off, and James has to bite his tongue to stop from aggravating her. “They’re doing uniform checks up the hall. Just put it on.”

Evans gives him a very strange look, and it takes him a second to realise that it’s neutral.

She looks good in his jacket.

iii. 

Every third dress code violation results in a lunch time detention. It’s only October, and Lily’s already had six. She doesn’t look at James as she takes the seat three ahead and one to the left of him.

iv.

There’s a thump from somewhere in the back of the classroom, and McGonagall isn’t planning on looking up - it sounds like it came from the general vicinity of Potter and Black, and that’s certainly not a situation she wants to engage with - but the entire class is already turned around to see what the fuss is.

She strides down the aisle between the desks, and is about three years past surprised to find James Potter lying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling, glasses knocked aside.

“Am I boring you so much that you decided to take a nap?” she asks, and James gives this wicked smile, and here we go–

“Sorry, Miss, I can’t get up. It’s Evans’ shoulders - they’re overwhelming me. I simply can’t do anything until she covers them up. Sirius, tell me when it’s safe.”

He’s a funny boy, she’ll give him that. “Potter, get up. This is hardly the time for foolishness.”

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a friend like mine

 Summary: A discussion about a break up leads to….interesting revelations. || Sebastian x Reader || part 1 of 2

Warnings: discussion of kinks, [in the second part] —> smut and all that entails, thigh riding, choking, some other stuff but i’ll put it in the warnings for the next one

Note: :))))

Originally posted by buckynsebimagines

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Out of the Blue 03

Rated: M

Warnings: Explicit vulgar hybrid smut, knotting, dirty talk.

Summary: Jungkook has only ever thought of his breeding clients as just that - clients, and he’s always quite indifferent to them since he only ever knows them for a short period of time. But then you come along, and he starts experiencing feelings that aren’t being manipulated by your heat. Real feelings, that he has never harbored before with anyone else.

Notes: finally part 3 is here!! this one was really tricky. i edited it so much in terms of adding parts, then turning around and taking them back out and just completely removing an entire scene and replacing it with something that flowed better. ugh. i have mixed feelings on this, but it is what it is lmfao i mean all it is is smut so i guess it really doesnt matter. enjoys babes <3

Words: 6.3k

01 | 02 | 03


It was odd, Namjoon thought, at how comfortable you and Jungkook seemed to be around each other, having only known each other for a little over a day. He couldn’t even begin wrap his head around the way ‘natural instincts’ and 'pheromones’ worked between you two, but then again, he was merely just a human. Last night was weird and he couldn’t exactly say he liked it, as he slept alone again for the first time in a very long while, having to keep himself warm without you there being his little heater. 

The first night here was hard, but there was something about last night that was almost unbearable. 

He got little sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how you were dealing with sleeping without him these past two nights since you had never done so before, but then he realized you were probably perfectly fine - curled up beside Jungkook, sleeping peacefully with the other’s arms tightly around you. His arms were probably so tight because he was probably afraid someone would try to take you away from him in the middle of the night while you two slept.

Well, that was if you even got any sleep, did your fevers subside long enough for you to get some shut-eye? Or were you two at it all night?

Namjoon shook his head in mild disgust, trying to clear his mind of the unwanted images that started popping up and he looked out of the window, down at the pool where you and Jungkook were playing in the water together. He watched on, a strange sort of jealousy planted in his chest. Could he really not even get one moment alone with you? He just didn’t quite know how to cope with that - didn’t understand how Jungkook could be that possessive.

But again, he was just a human. How could he possibly understand?

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Hexed

Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  Reader and Dean are…you guessed it…hexed.  Is it a sexual curse or something more?

Word Count:  2111

Warnings:  Lots of language, lots of smut (rough-ish smut)

As always, feedback is appreciated.  Tags are at the bottom.

Originally posted by holy-fucking-damn-shit

Hexed 

There is a time and place for everything, this is neither the time nor the place. Not for Dean to be looking at me like that, no sir. Had I always hoped he’d fix those ethereal green eyes on me that way? My mama didn’t raise a liar, so I’m not going to lie to you. Yeah, I want that man to fix those eyes on me just like that. Wanted him to for a long time now. There’s a lot of things I want from Dean Winchester.  That man is a walking wet dream, sex on bow-legs.

Things is, he’s not supposed to be looking at me like that. Sure as hell not right this very minute.  It’s not part of the plan. We’re working a fucking case for god’s sake. I’m not talking about research or footwork, interviewing and investigating. We are legitimately standing in this room right the fuck now and a motherfucking witch was just here with us. There is a blade in my hand and a gun in his. We had a job to do, one goddamn job.

Now that bitch of a witch is gone. Poof, vanished, adios amigos, just fucking gone. She mumbled some shifty spell work and now Dean fucking Winchester is looking like he wants to screw my brains out.

I’m looking right back at him and I got the same look in my eye.  

I don’t know what that piece of shit did to us, but my breasts are heavy, achy. My nipples are straining against the fabric of my bra and if somebody doesn’t touch them right this very instant and relieve that pressure, I’m going to scream. Or come. I don’t know which.  

There’s a burning in between my thighs, I’m squeezing them together hoping to ease some of the pressure but it’s only making it worse. Times infinity. My skin is all heat and fire, I’m consumed by need and lust.

Dean is a mirror, his eyes reflect back at me the same fever I’m feeling. I can see his cock - Jesus fucking Christ - swelling and straining against those blue denim jeans. In three short steps his crossed the room, a strangled sound leaving his lips before his lips press to mine. Our weapons clatter to the ground making one hell of a racket, but I give no fucks.

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Tantalizing: 07

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Dom!Jungkook, Intercourse, Oral, Blowjob, Hair Pulling, Tons of Fucking Angst, Masturbating, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Slight Degrading Names?
Word Count: 6,631

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my alpha.

Originally posted by semejohn

pairing: derek hale x reader

warnings: SMUT, swearing, dirty talk, NSFW GIFS. porn without a plot, basically.

prompt: going into heat while living in the loft with derek being the only available alpha. 

the cold loft was deserted as you laid in the middle of your bed, beads of sweat ran down your sore skin and your breathing was coming out harder than usual. you’d turned down the AC as soon as you’d woken up, the icy air doing very little to calm your raging hot skin. you had lived with derek and issac in the loft for 6 months after being turned by scott and having no where else to go; at first you thought of yourself as an inconvenience yet derek and issac constantly reassured you that you weren’t. al though they had said it many times, you still didn’t bother them with any of your problems and tried to keep to yourself in your room.

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Sober

2,500 Followers Oneshot

Summary: The reader is drunk and she tries to have sex with her best friend Jensen.

Prompt: “Why are you in my bed?!”

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,757

Requested: @supernaturalgirl85


Jensen tiredly drudges up the stairs in his Malibu home, grumpy as all hell. He just lost $2,000 at a poker game and it’s safe to say that he’s ripshit.

Although he’s not concerned about actually losing the money, being a successful movie director has set his ass up for life.

It’s just the fact that he lost. He’s a competitive fucker, always has been and always will be. It’s in his DNA.

And to add fuel to the fire, his friends refused to give him another chance to win back his money. Claiming it’s too late and they needed to call it a night. It’s only midnight for Christ’s sake. Old bastards.

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The Group Project

(Jimin is jealous when his best friend and roommate, Taehyung, has a date with the girl Jimin has a crush on.)

Warning: 8000 words and 75% of this is pure smut. MMF sex.  Dirty talking.  Disrespectful name calling.   The usual.


“Fuck you, Kim Taehyung! FUCK! YOU!”  Jimin was livid.  “I’ve never said a single thing to you about all the shit I have to put up with as your roommate!  All the times I’ve had to crash at a friend’s place because you brought some girl back to our dorm room for the night!  I can’t remember the last time I spent a whole week able to sleep in my own bed because of you!  And all those times I woke up to find some chick I don’t know in your bed?  Like you couldn’t just go somewhere else to fuck them? Did you really have to screw them in our room while I was asleep?”  Taehyung opened his mouth to answer, but Jimin cut him off.  “And I wasn’t even asleep for all of them!  What was that one girls name? The one with the short hair? Jungin? Jungah?  Just because you took her into our bathroom to have her suck your dick doesn’t mean I didn’t hear EVERY FUCKING THING that happened in there!  You are so fucking vile!  The things you said to that girl… the sound of her choking on your dick while you called her a slut?  What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Some girls like that shit,” Taehyung replied calmly.  “She definitely liked it, that’s for sure.”

Jimin rolled his eyes dismissively.  “The point is that I’ve never said anything to you about how you’ve stuck your dick in half the women on campus.  Despite the fact that you are always inconveniencing me in order to get your rocks off, I’ve kept my mouth shut.  It’s your life and it’s not really any of my business.  But this is TOO FUCKING MUCH!  I thought we were friends?  I never thought you would totally screw me over like this!”

“We are friends!  I didn’t do this to screw you over.” Taehyung and Jimin had been randomly assigned to be roommates in their small single room dorm room their freshman year and immediately became the best of friends.  Taehyung was on a scholarship that paid for his student housing on campus and Jimin couldn’t imagine living with anyone other than Taehyung, so despite the cramped quarters and the arguments frequently caused by the lack of privacy, they continued living together in the dormitory.

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Look at me (boyf riends)

jfc it’s done look it’s the boyf riends being dorks can you believe it what a shock. 

Alternative title: How These Morons Manage To Put Off Kissing Each Other For Three Pages Because They’re Nervous Wrecks. HTMTPOKEOFTPBTNW for short. Just rolls off the tongue honestly.


From the very first few days of the Squip being disabled it was clear Jeremy was far from okay. He still flinched sometimes when his voice cracked, or when he got “dramatic” as he himself put it. Michael found a lot of things concerning about Jeremy’s behavior that hadn’t been there before. How he would sometimes slouch slightly and then suddenly straighten up as though he’d been burned. How he got uncomfortable doing anything that could be deemed uncool. Michael couldn’t lie, that in particular hurt quite a bit. Asking Jeremy if they could continue playing Apocalypse of the Damned from where they’d left off and seeing him setting his jaw and clenching his fists as if he was steeling himself for something; that had stung. Michael had forgiven Jeremy practically the second an apology was out of his mouth but that didn’t mean things were perfectly okay between them. The months of being completely alone were still fresh in his mind. Michael had to keep reminding himself that Jeremy was a victim in this too, that was clear to anyone watching even if he wouldn’t flat out say what the Squip had done.

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It’s Not Gonna Suck Itself

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,290

Summary: The reader sends a naughty text to the wrong person.


“What the…no way, dude!” Jared bursts out laughing, practically falling off of his leather chair.

“What?” Jensen asks with furrowed brows, wondering if it’s worth getting up from the couch.

“Wow. I can’t believe she sent me this.” Jared grins widely, glancing back down at the text from you.

“Sent what? Who?”

Jensen grows impatient, his best friend still hasn’t answered him and it’s annoying as hell. He sighs dramatically then moves towards Jared, waiting for an answer.

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punsbulletsandpointythings  asked:

Your myth retellings are gorgeous. Would you tell another please? Maybe something with Hermes?

Pandora is made from earth, shaped by the hands of Hephaestus and made in the image of his beloved wife. Aphrodite gifts her with grace and charisma. Athena teaches her to weave and bestows cleverness upon her.

She stands in front of Hermes, and the god frowns and touches her with a single fingertip on her chin, moving her head one way than the other. “They’ll eat you alive,” he says, and she doesn’t understand.

She tilts her head to the side and smiles a vacant smile. All of the cleverness in the world will do her no good without any context. “We are the same,” she says, pressing a hand to Hermes’s chest. She is made from earth and has the skin to mach. He is a celestial god, and his skin is the same rich shade of brown.

He did not ask to be born any more than his mother asked to bare him. His creation, just like hers, is at the whims of Zeus. All for some little lost fire, all because Prometheus wanted his people to be warm, and, well, he is the god of the thieves after all –

So he gifts her with deceit, with selfishness, with cunning. Her smile leaves her face all at once as she’s filled with self-awareness. “He’ll be angry with you,” she says, “I am not what you were supposed to make.”

“Gods have short memories,” he says, and doesn’t bother to hide the contempt in his voice. “Do not worry about me, gifted child. You have larger problems than my fate.”

He has turned her from something pure into – something more like him. Her face darkens even further as her perfectly crafted mind slots all the pieces together, and he can’t help but find her lovely. It’s how she was made, after all. “I can’t stop it, can I? Whatever they’re planning for me to do?”

“No,” Hermes says, “but now you might be able to survive it.”

“Will I want to?” she asks, and he doesn’t answer. She doesn’t expect him too.

~

She hides from everyone, lives in a cave at the edge of the city. The gods had called her the first woman, but that’s not true, she can see.

There are women. They smile and laugh have work roughened hands. She aches to join them, but she has the beauty of a goddess. They will know. If she joins them, they will know she is not of them, and it will set into motion whatever trap Zeus has planned.

She is not human, not in the same way, molded from clay by a god’s hands. But she is of humans, and not eager to bestow upon them the harm she’s destined to bring them. She bathes in streams where only nymphs reside, steals into the city in the cloak of night and pilfers from the baker’s trash.

“When they said they sent my brother a wife,” a low, amused voice says too close behind her one night, “I had not expected a begger.”

She whirls around, hard bread clenched tight in front of her, an incredibly inefficient shield. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees him, dark and tall and eyes like the night sky. He looks like Hermes. Like her. “Who are you?” she demands. They’re in an alley corner, and of her gifts flight is not among them. She’ll have to fight him to get away.

She’s not afraid of him. Maybe another mortal would be, cornered in the middle of the night by a man she doesn’t know. But she’s no normal mortal woman, and besides – he has something comforting about him, like the hearthfire attended by Hestia. Something warm.

“I am Prometheus,” says the man, and no wonder he reminds her of fire. “What do they call you?”

“You are meant to be in the deepest pits of Hades’s realm,” she snaps, and shifts her grip on the stale bread so that she can throw it at him. He’s the whole reason she’s here to begin with, him and his thievery.

He shrugs and walks closer to her, watching her like one would watch a wild animal. Good. Here, in this dark alley where no one would find a cooling body until morning, it is he that should be afraid. “Gods forget,” he says, “and Hades had grown cold in his place beneath the earth.”

She pauses, considers. “You stole fire for Hades?”

“No,” he corrects, “I stole fire for the people. But Hades benefited as well. Enough that he was willing to forget the terms of my punishment.”

“What do you want?” she asks for the second time. “Why are you here?”

He stops, too close to her, “The question is why are you here?”

She steps into his space now, following him as he backs away from her, “I am here because of you, fire-stealer, because gods may forget but they do not forgive, and I am the punishment they have unleashed upon the world.”

“What a punishment you are,” he says, looking at her lips, and she forgets to hate him only long enough to kiss him.

~

Hermes watches her, watches them. He doesn’t know Zeus’s plan, if this is part of it or not, but he watches her, and he worries. He thinks it is, he can see Aphrodite’s magic clinging to Pandora, but he doesn’t know why.

He would go to his mother, but she’s always difficult to find, Gaea preferring to live in streams and rivers rather than face the man she bore a son for. But his mother’s father, on the other hand, is always in the same place.

“Grandfather,” Hermes greets, touching lightly down onto the earth, “How are you?”

“How am I always, boy?” Atlas grunts out, legs and arms straining as he holds up the sky above the earth. “Tired.”

Hermes lips quirk up the corners. Some days, he thinks he’s more Atlas’s grandson than he’s Zeus’s son. “I need some advice, Grandfather.”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

So Hermes tells him everything, from beginning to end, because he can’t figure out what his father’s plan is, but Atlas might. He’s known the man for longer, at least.

Atlas nods, slow, and says, “A bride of gods, a gifted child. I can think of only one reason to create such a child.” Hermes waits. Atlas sighs and says, “There is a jar, within Olympus, that becomes sealed when it leaves the realm of the gods. After that, only a being neither mortal nor celestial may open it.”

“What are they planning to put inside?” Hermes demands, heart spiking. What are they planning to unleash upon the unsuspecting earth?

His grandfather smirks, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is this – what are you going to put inside?”

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anonymous asked:

In what ways have you experienced antisemitism in England? (Not being passive aggressive, genuinely curious)

This is obviously just a set of my own, personal experiences.

  • When I was 13, an Iraqi Muslim refugee girl came to my school and ended up in my class part-way through the year. She was told to sit beside me, and my table of students was asked (in private, by the teacher) to help her with her English skills. She became a friend very quickly, and weeks passed normally, until I complained (of course) about preparing for Pesach at home. She didn’t know what Pesach was, so I explained as best as I could. She asked if I was a Jew and I told her that I was. She then called me “dirty” and asked to be moved to sit somewhere else. She never spoke to me again.
  • When I was 16 at my first job with a clothing retailer, an Arab woman was angry that I couldn’t give her money back on some clothes (because of some store policy), called me a “thieving Jew” and stormed out.
  • I’ve had friends become ex-friends because they found out that I was Jewish, and they said that I “manipulated” them by not admitting that I was Jewish in the first place.
  • I’ve had ex-friends say that they wouldn’t have been friends with me in the first place because “Jews always want something in return.”
  • When I was 17 and worked at a jewellery chain store, I was serving an Arab man until he noticed the Magen David around my neck. He cursed at me in Arabic and demanded that my manager serve him instead. When she tried to show him the jewellery that I had brought out to show him, he wanted a discount because of “the Jew’s filthy hands.”
  • In the same job, there was a Muslim woman that I worked with that joined me outside for cigarette breaks. She always begged to make sure we were right down an alleyway so the main street wouldn’t see us. I asked her why she was afraid of being seen, and she told me that others from her mosque might see her. I then asked if it was forbidden for her to smoke, and she told me that it was, but it would be worse if her family found out she was talking to a Jew and she didn’t want to risk it. She begged me to deny that we were friends if any Muslim or Arab asked me if I knew her.
  • My boss at the same job made a point to remind me that the safe had security cameras surrounding it, because she said she knew what “you people” were like. When I faced antisemitism from customers, she demanded that I stop wearing my Magen David so I wouldn’t “antagonise” them.
  • When I had to transfer to a different jewellery store due to moving away to university, I had a different Muslim co-worker. For context, if two people worked together to make a sale, they were supposed to “split” the sale on the computer, as each staff member had a daily quota for both item value and insurance that we were supposed to sell. I did most of the sale, and he said he would help put the sale through the machine, as the customer thought she might buy something else, too. After she was gone, I found out that he’d stolen all of the sale from me. I confronted him, and he told me that “Jews have enough money.”
  • When I was 20, I went to court with my family because of (non-related to our Jewishness) harassment against us from our neighbours. Our court-provided lawyer was a friendly Muslim woman. She sat with us and helped us prepare for being in court, as we’d never been before. My mother has a nervous habit of fidgeting with her jewellery, and the lawyer stopped part-way through a sentence when she noticed her Magen David (for clarification - none of us have “obviously Jewish” names), made an excuse that we were prepared, then left us. In court, she hardly asked any questions unlike the defence lawyer, and after the case finished (it was short, thanks to those behind the harassment being repeat offenders) when we wanted to ask her about what happened next, we were all completely ignored and she refused to shake any of our hands, even after we’d seen her shaking with the defence lawyer.
  • I had a Christian roommate at university tell me that she would “forgive me” for “killing Christ” if I accepted Jesus as my saviour, and was angry when I refused.
  • In a taxi with an Arab driver, he was friendly and asked me if I was doing anything for Christmas. I told him that I was Jewish so wasn’t celebrating, but would probably go to a friend’s Christmas party. He then asked me what I thought about what was happening in Palestine, and I said that the situation was a horrible mess, and that all we could do was hope for peace. He then said, “Jews are baby-killers” and accused me of being racist.
  • When I went to pick up some kosher items from the local supermarket, an Arab family spotted me in the aisle (as kosher, halaal, Polish and “speciality” non-refrigerated items were along the same aisle) and followed me around the store as I picked up the rest of my shopping, laughing in Arabic, and then spat on me. When I went to a staff member to tell them about what happened, he accused me of being an Islamophobic racist and told me that if I didn’t leave the store, he would call security.
  • A different Arab taxi driver, on a journey back home, asked me if I was Jewish. When I told him that I was, he asked threatening questions about “how many Jews” lived with me and when we’d all be home together. I was frightened, I admit, and I gave him the wrong address and hurried to the first person that was outside their house, asking them to take me in because I was worried. I called home, obviously, but the driver stayed outside for over half an hour and only left when the stranger I was with went outside to ask what he wanted, where he apparently said that he was “making sure I (as in, me) was home safe.”
  • I went to buy cigarettes from a corner shop using my debit card. The machine declined it for some reason, although I had more than enough money to cover it. I asked the owner to put the card through again, and he shouted that “Your Jew money’s no good here” and demanded that I leave.
  • I’ve been called a “babykiller” and a “Zionist bitch” when a man spotted my Magen David.
  • My synagogue’s windows have been vandalised, smashed and there has been excrement shoved through the letterbox and smeared on windows and we have to organise an extra police presence during festivals. Over recent years, all signs saying that the synagogue is in fact a synagogue have been removed.
  • When preparing for an inter-faith walk of peace, a priest visited our synagogue and called us “obstacles to peace” and “selfish” for saying that we couldn’t walk on a Saturday morning, when we’re supposed to be in the synagogue praying.

I’ve been spat at multiple times, I’ve had antisemitic slurs thrown at me multiple times. I stopped using Facebook a few years ago because of random rape and death threats sent into my inbox and written when I commented or liked anything to do with Israel or Judaism. My mother has had the same. We have to do our best to protect my brother from the same, and have told him never to tell anyone that he’s Jewish, because that would be far too dangerous for him.

Obviously this isn’t even mentioning the abuse that I’ve had on this site, where I’ve been called a Nazi, I’ve been told to kill myself, asks with antisemitic slurs (not dark jokes, but actual abuse), because whilst I do post some, there are quite a few that I’ve just deleted without comment to block whichever anon has been sending them.

So when I talk about antisemitism, I’m not just someone that happens to be Jewish and is against antisemitism because it’s anti-Jewish as some out-there concept that I’m against, it’s because I’ve been there, I’ve done that, been through it, keep going through it.

It’s very real, and it can be incredibly frightening. That’s why I take it so seriously. And that’s also why I criticise Jews for claiming that some things are antisemitic when they’re clearly not, because I want others to see how horrendous antisemitism actually is so that they take it seriously, too.

Love Letters

Originally posted by joeck


Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Reader

Request: zach dempsey fluff please!! 

Words: 1.735

A/N: This is my first Zach imagine and I hope that you guys like it. This is my last post until friday night, since I’ll be going back to school tomorrow. I am still writing and I can see the feedbacks and requests if there are some. I hope that you guys bear with me and I hope that you understand. Thank you so much, guys.

- G.

Warning: Swearing


Peer Communications was one of the subjects you looked up to everyday and you loved it because you learnt how to behave with people and how to communicate with them. You sometimes asked for help whenever you were down and needed some advices. You also studied some psychological topics and it helped you to be more empathic towards other people.

One more thing you liked about it was the notes of encouragement bag. You could write some anonymous notes to people and put it in their bag. Its purpose was to encourage people so they would value their self-esteem and their existence in this world.

You thought that the idea was amazing and innovative, because it has been awhile since you’ve been secretly receiving love letters from someone from your class. You could admit that the person perfectly cheered you up, making you more confident whenever they would leave one in your bag, but it didn’t help you to kill your curiosity to find out who the person was.

“(Y/N), you look so pretty whenever you smile and it melts me every time I see your lips curving and with those perfect white teeth of yours exposing.” Alex read that little piece of paper with a smirk as you were talking about your secret admirer.

You two were in the library with Zach and Jessica while you were waiting for your next subject: Peer Communications.

“Aw, that’s so sweet.” Jessica complimented as she took the piece of paper from Alex’s hand and read it once again, with a lower tone this time.

“It is.” You bit your lip as you tried not to smile too much because of it. “I wonder who it is.” You wouldn’t sleep sometimes because of it and, being your ultimate crush, you kind of wished that it was Zach.

“Jesus Christ, that’s too damn corny!” Zach complaint and shook his head.

“Stop being jealous, Dempsey.” You winked at him as you teased him, but you were absolutely broken hearted for his reaction. You shrugged it off since you hinted that he was having a bad day, because he just gathered his things and walked away. “Zach!” You shouted as you tried to stop him.

“Zachary Dempsey!” Jessica tried to stop him too, but he just ignored you and he got out of the library, annoyed and vexed.

“Shh!” The old and stressed librarian scolded you and you just flashed her an apologetic smile. You were embarrassed, because you got some looks from your other fellow students and you heard soft giggles from Alex.

“I’m pulling your septum ring away if you don’t stop.” You threatened him and he suddenly closed his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Just kidding, Standall!” You and Jessica then giggled silently and Alex shook his head.

“(Y/N),” Alex became serious as he looked at you, straight into your eyes. “I think he’s jealous.”

“Jealous? Who?” You corrugated your forehead as you couldn’t understand what he was talking about.

“Jesus,” He let his face fall on his hands as he unleashed a long and deep sigh. “Zach!”

“What the fuck are you saying Alex?” You snatched a piece of paper from Alex’s hand and you started to gather your things. It was impossible that Zach was jealous, how could he? Didn’t he think that those stuffs were damn corny? “Don’t think about it that way, Mr. I jump into conclusions easily.”

“Why the fuck are these people so touchy?” Alex complaint as he looked at Jessica and pointed at you. You and Jessica both chuckled because Alex thought that you were annoyed and frustrated.

“I’m not being touchy, bro!” You defended yourself and you looked at your wrist watch for the time. “We’re going to be late if you don’t get your ass up.”

“Alright, let’s go.” They started to gather their things and you all went out of the library as you headed to your next class.

“Wait, I forgot my book!” Jessica exclaimed as she was controlling the books in her bag. “(Y/N), mind joining me?”

“Oh, sure!” You smiled at her and you were about to go away, when Alex stopped you.

“I’ll go with her, go inside the class (Y/N) and save us our seats.” Alex proposed and you just shrugged it off. They both went to Jessica’s locker and you entered your room.

“Zach?” You were surprised to see Zach and he was about to put a piece of paper inside your encouragement bag. How? You thought he never liked those stuffs.

“(Y/N)!” His eyes widened as he saw you entering the room. He didn’t expect to see you and he was frightened because you caught him. “Uhm, I- I…” He stuttered and he didn’t know what to say.

“You are my secret admirer?” You corrugated your forehead as you brought your hand to your slightly opened mouth, shocked of the revelation.

“Uhm,” He wandered around the room as he felt nervous and you could see that he was blushing. “read this.” He walked closer to you and handed you the paper, instead of putting it in your bag. He was already caught in action, why would he even escape?

“Thank you.” You shyly said as you carefully accepted the paper from his hand.
You slowly opened the folded paper and you were honestly excited to read what was written in it.

Dear (Y/N),

Hi! How are you? I know that it’s been awhile since you started receiving love letters from me and your curiosity is killing you every time, I always see you frustrated after reading my notes.
Anyway, I know that I suck at writing, but I wanted to let you know that I am liking you more and more every day. I am happy to be your friend and being just a friend is enough for me, if you don’t feel the same way. I sometimes hope that you feel or will feel the same way about me too, anyway. I am keeping my fingers crossed,

Take care always,
Zach
.

You silently read the short letter as the two of you stood in the middle of your classroom. You looked at Zach and you flashed him a sweet smile. Your heartbeat was getting louder and you became nervous and enthusiastically happy at the same time.

You wondered, though, why he acted strange earlier if he felt that way? Why would he be jealous, like what Alex hypothesized? Damn, look what Alex could do at you!

“Zach, you are the sweetest person ever.” He smiled at you and he pulled you into a hug.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me,” You hugged him back and you were amazed by the height difference that you both had. He was surely tall and you had to admit that you felt a little bit small. “your friendship is enough.” He murmured and you could hear in his voice that he was wishing for more.

“Zach,” You broke the hug so you could see his handsome face. “you are sweet, kind and funny. It’s not impossible to not like you back.” You honestly confessed back and you quickly saw a wide smile forming on his lips, while he fidgeted with his fingers and looking at his shoes, as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

It was true that you had a crush on him for a while now and you never had the guts to admit it because you thought that it was the boy who should do the first step. Yup, old style.

“Rosie’s tonight then?” He happily asked. “So, we can talk about it.”

“Yeah, sure!” You hyperactively nodded and he let out some soft laughs.

You and Zach stared at each other for a while and you both didn’t know what to say because the awkward atmosphere. At that moment, you hated your classmates for not coming inside the classroom until the bell rang and you hated Jessica and Alex because they were taking too much time to get the freaking damn book.

“Zach!” You suddenly blurted out as you remembered that something was bothering you. “Why did you say that those stuffs were corny if you were the one who writes them?”

“The one that Alex has read wasn’t from me.” He seemed disturbed at the thought of that little letter.

“So, you were really jealous?” You smirked as you teased him and he rolled his eyes.

“Uhm, yes,” He almost whispered as he answered your question sincerely. He looked at the ground as he tried to hide his reddish face. “because I saw that you were so happy because of it and I thought that you didn’t like me and you liked that one, instead.“ He explained and you just giggled. You didn’t know that he was that possessive and you honestly loved it. A possessive and overprotective boyfriend was what you were asking for.

“Silly!” You shook your head because he thought that you didn’t like him. “I still wonder who wrote that note though.”

“My fault!” Alex entered the classroom and winked at Zach, who was already giving him a death glare. You raised an eyebrow as you asked for explanations from that vexatious friend of yours. “I knew that he liked you and I told you that he was jealous.”

“Damn it, Standall!” Zach complaint, but Alex didn’t seem to care that much. You smiled because you understood what he tried to do and you couldn’t help but to love that idiot even more, of course, as a friend.

“Congrats!” He cheerfully teased the two of you. “By the way, I really thought that you have a really nice and perfect smile, (Y/N), and I can confirm it now.” He pointed it out as he saw you smiling widely for his actions.

You shook your head together with and stopped as soon as the bell rang. You went to your seats as the other students came inside the room. You kept on getting smirks and teasing winks from Alex, but you just threw him a crumpled paper in response.

Your favourite subject was about to start and you wanted to thank your teacher for making those bags of encouragement up. It was really a useful and a pleasant idea.

At least, it helped you to be more confident and it has got you a date for that night.


True Colors

Named after the song by the Weeknd bc I am trash. Thank you to @caspercassiecas for being my beta. This is my first fic on this account, and my ask box is always open for requests. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3606

Warnings: Smut, fluff, disgusting dude at a bar, reader has a dragon tattoo, sex related humor at the end.


“Y/N!” You heard Lin shout, and you sighed heavily, still holding the coffee that the man had sent you to get. You looked around for him, noticing that he was on the other side of the stage. The stage where the company was practicing.

You groaned, sprinting across the stage, ducking and spinning around dancing people. You somehow managed to get across without spilling the coffee, handing it to Lin and smiling before you heard your name called again.

“Y/N! Come meet Diggs! He was sick yesterday, so you didn’t get to meet him!” You heard Christopher shout, and you groaned again, sighing heavily. You looked over, trying to find where Christopher was standing.

“You guys are lucky I do sports.” You muttered, Lin cackling and patting your shoulder.

“Yes, we are. You’ve got a busy second day ahead of you, kid.” Lin laughed, and you groaned, running back across the stage, doing a slide on your knees between a dancer’s legs and ending up at Christopher’s feet, scrambling up.

“Sorry, I learned yesterday that if I time it right, I can get across the stage without being hit.” You explained, brushing yourself off before smiling widely at Christopher and the tall man beside him.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Daveed Diggs, Daveed Diggs, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N is our new intern since Jessica quit the other day.” Christopher introduced them, and you smiled warmly, shaking Daveed’s hand. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Phillipa calling out for you.

“Y/N!”

You made an apologetic face, wincing.

“Sorry, it was lovely meeting you, Diggs. I’ll catch you later.” You waved, weaving between the dancers once more, yelping when one grabbed your hand, spinning and dipping you. You went along with it, doing a couple dance steps with him before he let you go and you ran off to find Phillipa.


You were backstage, delivering Leslie a tea before he had to go on. You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes as you knocked on Leslie’s dressing room door. You heard a muffled ‘come in’ and opened the door, absently tugging on your hair with your free hand. You poked your head in carefully.

“Hey, Leslie, they didn’t have chai, so I had to get you vanilla, I hope you don’t mind. If it’s an issue, I can run down to the corner store really quick.” You greeted, voice rough from how much you’d spoken that day. The three men in the room turned to you, all smiling. Anthony stood, opening the door for you fully. Daveed waved and smirked from his spot on the couch. Leslie was leaning on his vanity, smiling widely at you.

“It’s no issue, thank you, Y/N. Have you met Diggs? He was out sick yesterday when you were here.”

“Yessir, I have met Diggs. Though I’ve been bouncing around all damn day so I haven’t had a chance to properly speak to him.” You laughed, handing Leslie the tea and smiling at Anthony, who appeared to be struggling with his collar, which wouldn’t stay down.

“Anthony, do you need some help?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head slightly. He looked up and smiled brilliantly.

“Yes, please, actually. I can’t get it to stay down.”

You clicked your tongue, muttering under your breath as you reached a hand to your side, pulling a safety pin out of your jeans. You carefully stuck it in the fabric of Anthony’s coat, pinning it down.

“Alright. Anyone else need anything while I’m in here?” You asked, eyeing Daveed out of the corner of your eye. You noticed his eyes on your legs, moving around your body. He caught your eyes and you raised a brow.

“Coffee would be nice.” Daveed murmured, and you nodded.

“Any specifics on how to make it?”

“I like mine how Lin takes it.”

“Lin takes any kind of coffee I give him.” You snorted, tugging at your hair again as you left the room, sighing heavily.


The Next Day

You were helping one of the dancers through a run, copying his movements effortlessly.

“Y/N! Need you!” You heard Daveed call, and gave the dancer a sad look, jogging off to Daveed’s dressing room, knocking on the door and waiting for the signal to come in. You jumped as Lin opened the door, putting a hand over your heart.

“Jesus! Lin, you almost put me in cardiac arrest.” You scolded, furrowing your brows as you slipped in.

“Sorry, Y/N. I was just leaving.” He laughed, waving as he shut the door. You turned your head, spotting Daveed by his vanity. Your mouth ran dry. He was in a tight black t-shirt, one that outlined every single one of his muscles, and a pair of jeans that fit just right on his hipbones. You forced your eyes to his face, smiling.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with the Lafayette bun. I can’t seem to get it right today.”

“Uh, yeah, s-sure.” You stuttered, blushing bright red. You mentally cursed yourself, walking over and carefully pulling his hair up, forming it into the bun.

“You’re blushing. Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” He practically purred, and you flicked your eyes up to look at him in the mirror, still putting the hair tie around his hair.

“Yeah. Just a little warm in here.” You lied effortlessly, finishing the bun and smiling at him in the mirror.

“Need anything else?”

“The cast is going out tonight, Lin wanted me to see if you’d come. He had to run to set before he could ask himself.”

“He could’ve shot me a text. But yeah, I’ll come.” You murmured, pulling a pocket notebook out of your jeans and scribbling down your number, tearing it out and setting it on his vanity.

“You’re the only person who doesn’t have my number. Text me the location and dress code tonight, please.” You murmured, walking out of his dressing room.


You almost fell out of the shower trying to grab your phone in time to answer the incoming call. You stood, dripping on the floor, pressing the phone against your wet cheek.

Hey, it’s Daveed. I’ll come pick you up. Tell me your address and wear somethin’ nice, aight?” He greeted, and you made a humming sound.

“Will do. Uh, I live in the Deerfold Apartments on eleventh, number 112. I’ll have to buzz you in.” You answered, running a hand through your still soapy hair.

You sound out of breath. You feeling alright?

“I was in the shower when you called. Almost fell trying to answer.” You laughed, listening to his own warm laugh radiate through her speakers.

Alright, I’ll let you finish your shower. See you in about 30 minutes.” He said, and you hummed. The call ended. Or so you thought.

You put your phone down, stepping back in your shower. You went back to your singing, belting out the lyrics to old rock songs at the top of her lungs, running conditioner through your hair. You quickly washed your body and shaved, turning off your shower. You grabbed the towel you kept by, sighing at the puddle of water on the floor.

“Dear god that’s so much water.” You said to yourself, drying off quickly before putting the towel on the floor to soak up the water.

You pulled your hair into another towel, twisting it up and whistling as you stepped on the other towel, singing once again. You picked up your hairbrush and phone, starting on Lemonade, Beyonce’s new album. You picked up the towel and your dirty clothes, walking out to your bedroom, singing at the top of your lungs.

You can taste the dishonesty,
it’s all over your breath,
” You sang, tossing your phone on the bed. You continued singing, putting your dirty clothes and both towels in your hamper. You quickly brushed out your hair, accidentally tripping over a pile of clothes and letting out a loud string of curses. You heard quiet laughter, popping up and trying to find the source of the sound. You scrambled to your phone, finding that you were still in a call with Daveed.

“Diggs! Why didn’t you hang up?!” You exclaimed, turning bright red.

I heard you singing and wanted to stick around to see if you’d sing a song from the show.” You heard his familiar voice crackled through the phone.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned, knowing you’d never live this down.


You buzzed Daveed in, walking back to your bedroom and stepping into your dress, pulling it up. You struggled with the zipper, getting it up about halfway before you heard a knock on your door. You sighed, walking over to your door and opening it. You gave Daveed a slightly awkward smile.

“Can you zip me up, please? I can’t seem to get it.” You asked, and he laughed, nodding his head. You turned, holding in a shiver as his warm hands ran up your spine, zipping the dress. You felt his fingers lingering, brushing along the dragon tattoo at the base of your neck.

“Nice ink. Do you like dragons?”

“No, I hate them.” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and stepping into a pair of heels, grabbing your jacket and purse.

“Alright, let’s motor.” You smiled, spinning your keys around your finger. He nodded, stepping aside to let you out. You locked your apartment, linking your elbow with his and letting him escort you.


You laughed at the story Lin was telling the people at the table, sipping your wine. Daveed was digging into his steak, being quieter than usual. Anthony was on your other side, casually sipping his wine as well.

“Hey, D, you doing okay?” You asked, voice quiet. You glanced over at him, raising a brow. He smiled, nodding.

“I just can’t cut this damn steak.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and sipping your wine again. The waiter walked over, setting down a wine glass and a note in front of you. You raised your eyebrows. You glanced at the table, making sure they weren’t paying attention before you spoke.

“Oh, I didn’t order this, sir.” You said, smiling up at the waiter.

“It’s from the gentleman in the blue shirt at the bar.” The waiter smiled, and you nodded, looking at the glass of wine and flicking your eyes up to the guy at the bar, who smirked and waved at you. You opened the note, reading it and suppressing a disgusted face. You pulled your notebook and pen out of your bag, scribbling down a note back and chugging the wine. You handed the note and empty glass to the waiter, smiling.

“Tell him he has awful taste in wine, but thanks anyway.” You requested, and the waiter read your note and laughed, nodding his head.

“Yes, ma’am. You have a strong voice in your writing.” He commented, and you smirked.

“I’m aware. Thank you very much.”

You sipped your previous glass of wine, looking over at a call of your name.

“So, Y/N, what did blue shirt guy say in his note?” Lin asked, and you sighed, shaking your head.

“I should’ve known better than to think that would’ve gotten past you. I thought it would be a nice note, but it was vulgar as all hell.” You muttered, shaking your head and glaring at the note.

“What did you say back?” Renee laughed, and you shrugged, smirking.

“I said that he was a pussy for saying it in a note with wine instead of to my face, and if he really expected that to work or get him laid, then he was more idiotic than I thought at first glance.” You answered Lin, who snorted loudly, cackling.

“Wait, lemme see his note! Y/N, you gotta show me!”

“Lin, read it out to us!” Oak laughed, and Y/N giggled, passing the note to Lin. He cleared his throat, getting out his most dramatic voice.

Hey, I really like your dress. I think I’d like it better on my floor, though. I like your lips as well, and I sure would love to see them wrapped around my 11-inch cock, come take charge of me, honey, I can show you a good boy,” Lin read, and you listened to the table burst out into loud laughter. Anthony gave you a sympathetic look, and Daveed swallowed his piece of steak before speaking to her.

“Are you even into being the dominator, Y/N? I get a more vanilla vibe from you.”

You raised your brows at him, laughing softly.

“And I think that’s my cue, sorry, guys, I have to wake up early and run around all day tomorrow.” You spoke, avoiding the question as you slipped on your coat, digging your wallet out of your purse and handing Lin $20 dollars, paying for your food. You waved as you walked out, blowing a kiss at them.


You stretched up, grabbing a pack of powder creamer from the cabinet, dancing to the singing you heard from the stage. You stirred it into the cup of coffee that sat in front of you, singing along softly. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you felt a pair of hands on your hips.

“Did I scare you away last night, baby?” Daveed whispered in your ear, and you shivered.

“N-no, Daveed.” You replied, shivering at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“You gonna answer my question, baby girl?”

You had to forcibly suppress a moan, subconsciously grinding your ass against his crotch. He laughed quietly, pressing a small kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You released a shaky breath.

“I don’t like to dominate, I like being dominated.” You muttered, and he bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise and draw a moan out of you.

“Can’t fuck you here, baby girl.” He murmured, and you whimpered.

“I’ll swing by your place later.” He murmured, and you nodded desperately, grinding against him once more before he pulled away, smirking at you as he walked away, leaving you panting and blushing at the counter.


You buzzed Daveed in, practically bouncing as you walked off to your bathroom, checking your appearance one more time, perfecting everything. You heard him knock, walking cautiously over to your door and opening it, stepping aside to let Daveed in.

“You can take your shoes off by the door, and, uh, hang your jacket on the free hook.” You greeted, blushing bright red.

“You’re cute when you blush, baby. If at any point you want me to stop, say ‘red’ okay?”

“Got it. Red. Okay.” You murmured, nodding. You blushed impossibly brighter when he grabbed your hips again, tugging you against his chest. He crashed his lips down onto yours and you moaned into his mouth, circling your arms around his neck and grinding yourself against him.

“Fuck, Daveed, bedroom.” You managed when you broke free, pointing to your bedroom door. He nodded, grabbing the undersides of your thighs and picking you up, walking toward your bedroom, leaving kisses on your neck. He tossed you on your bed, tugging his shirt off and unbuckling his belt. He smirked at you.

“Take off your clothes and hold out your wrists, baby.”

You were quick to comply, pulling your clothes off in record time and holding out your wrists for him. You moaned a little when you saw he’d finished taking off his clothes while you were distracted with yours. He pulled his belt tight around your wrists.

You moaned when he trailed a hand down, running a finger along your slit. You tossed your head back, bucking your hips up when he pushed two fingers into you, curling them just right and rubbing your walls. Your mind went blank, moving your hips to meet his fingers as he thrust them in and out of you. He ducked his head down, sucking at your clit, drawing a damn near scream from you. You were impossibly close. Though, to be fair, you’d been close since he’d kissed you.

“Please, sir, please, let me,” You babbled, mindlessly begging.

“Can you take three, baby?”

“Yes, sir, please,” You moaned, arching your back up sharply when he pushed another finger into you, keeping you right on the edge. You started begging again, whimpering when he held your hips down with one of his hands, stopping you from moving.

“Cum.” He ordered, and you practically screamed his name as you obeyed, back arching, fingers reaching out in your bonds, mind going completely blank. Before you had time to recover completely, he was inside of you, hitting your g-spot immediately.

“Daveed!” You moaned, dragging out the syllables in his name. He wrapped a hand around your throat, biting hard into your shoulder as he pounded into you. You felt his other hand gripping your hip so hard that you knew you’d have his fingerprints branded onto you for weeks. You moaned again when he bit hard on your breast, then moved his hand and bit into your neck again.

“You’re mine now, baby girl, no one else can fuck you like this.” He growled into your ear.

“Yes, sir, yours.” You moaned back, gasping for breath as he slowed down, almost sobbing.

“Say it, baby. Who’s are you?”

“Yours, sir! Please!” You moaned, trying to buck up and get him to go faster again.

“Who’s?”

“Yours, Daveed! Fuck, please!” You sobbed, then felt him unbuckle the belt around your wrists, then start up again. You threw your head back once more, raking your nails up his back. You knew there would be marks the next morning from your nails, and that made you moan more, scratching up his back again, then burying your hands in his hair, pulling. He groaned, nodding his head.

“Good girl, Y/N, fuck. Cum for me, baby girl.” He groaned out, and you let your orgasm take over again, seeing stars. You felt him bite hard into your shoulder, possibly drawing blood, as he came. All the muscles in your body went slack, and you winced at the oversensitivity as he pulled out of you, taking the condom off and tying it, tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, smiling at you.

“Where’s your bathroom, baby, we need to clean you up.” He asked, voice soft. You groaned, lifting your arm and pointing to a door, sighing when he picked you up. He walked into your bathroom, making a pleased noise at the sight of your bathtub, setting you down on the counter and running you a bath.

“I’m tired, Daveed.” You muttered, whining as he picked you up again, sitting in the bath with you between his legs, leaning against his chest.

“I know, baby, let’s just get you cleaned up and then I can take you to bed, okay?”

“Mm, okay.” You murmured, letting him wash you off. You let your eyes slip shut as he shampooed and conditioned your hair, washing your body gently. You felt him moving around as he cleaned himself, then as he pulled the plug to drain the water. You felt him leave the tub, drying himself off, before picking you up and drying you off, carrying you to your bedroom. You sighed, tossing the towel around you into the hamper in your room before he laid you both down, pulling the blanket up to you and wrapping his arms around you.


“Hey, Y/N, what’s with the turtleneck? It’s super fuckin hot in here.” Anthony called, and you spun around, smiling at him.

“That is subjective, Ant. I think it’s really cold, actually.” You lied, shrugging. He raised an eyebrow.

“Or you got laid last night.”

You didn’t respond, the color draining out of your face.

“Holy shit! Guys! Y/N got dicked down!” Anthony shouted, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning.

“Yes, I did. Is there a reason why my sex life is so exciting to you, Ant?” You sighed, putting a hand on the hip that wasn’t bruised all to hell and glaring at him.

“Lemme see what the guy did, Y/N, I know you have a tank top under that damn turtleneck,” Anthony said, and you snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Lin! Make Anthony go away!” You shouted, Lin looking over and laughing at the two of them.

“Do you even remember the guy’s name? Did you get his number? Are you gonna hit him up? I saw you walking weird earlier but I thought you just pulled a muscle, was he that good?” Anthony shot off, and you groaned, sighing.

“Hi, baby. He bothering you?” Daveed asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and gently pecking you.

“Holy shit.” You heard Lin say, then heard Anthony and Oak burst out in laughter.

“Jesus Christ, we knew you liked her! Lemme see what he did to you, you gotta show me now!” Ant cackled, and you made a grumbling noise, looking up at Daveed for permission. He gave a single nod, and you sighed, tugging your turtleneck off and allowing them to see the plethora of bruises on you. Including the scabbed over bite on your shoulder, claiming marks.

“Jesus Christ, Diggs, you don’t hold back.”

“He would’ve but I didn’t tell him to. Is your curiosity sated?” You snapped, glaring. Anthony and Oak held up their hands in mock surrender.

“Well, now we won’t have to ask why you’re walking funny.”

“Shut up.”