quiffed

Talk Dirty To Me - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 4,134

Warnings: Pure Filth, NSFW, 18+, Masturbation, Oral (male receiving), dirty talk, teasing

Notes: Thanks @minhosmeanhoe. There is a LONG story behind this. Just enjoy the filth y’all. Formerly titled “The Results of Me Making Camile Horny”

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Regrets at 11 pm

 fluff //  Stupidity at it’s finest is sending the student council vice president a ‘salacious’ picture at 11 pm.

Kyungsoo was having a dull day.

First of all, his console hadn’t come in the post but the games he had bought for said console did come so he was subjected to flicking through the handbooks like a decrepit hermit. Then his brother had washed his white Zelda shirt with his dark jeans, so his Zelda shirt was now a grey blotched mess. Disappointing

Then to make matters worse, Jongdae had decided not tell him that he wasn’t attending the LoL match, so he had to play with Baekhyun…not that there was anything wrong with him, but it’s fucking Baekhyun and there’s only so much forced aeygo Kyungsoo can take.

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7 Minutes in Heaven (E.D)

Requested

A/N: Sorry if it was trash. I tried. 🤷🏻‍♀️❤️

Warnings: Fluff, make out sesh, uh..butt grabs, cursing

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure




You gave the liquid in your red solo-cup a good swish as your eyes glossed over the party. It wasn’t even a party, everyone was too absorbed in their phones. You rolled your eyes before looking down into your cup of god-knows-what. Suddenly Cameron Dallas, a fellow YouTuber stood up onto one of the tables. “This party’s lame, how about we spice it up a bit?” He exclaimed causing a few shouts of excitement. Everyone erupted into a sea of cheers and your best friend ran over to you. She squealed and grabbed your arm. “Uh - what’s going on?” You asked as she pulled you away from the empty table you were keeping company. “We’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” She grinned and dragged you towards the growing crowd of people. You sighed and sat down next to her reluctantly. The people there were all attractive so it couldn’t be that bad right?
If you were chosen at least it would be with someone hot. You watched in amusement as people spun the bottle with excitement and eagerness. Most of the guys here seemed like they just wanted to get laid. You rolled your eyes at their desperation and before you knew it, it was your turn. You sighed and spun the bottle. Praying it would land on some cute guy who wasn’t a total snob. But with your luck that was bound to happen. 


“Ooooh.” Everyone whistled and when you looked at where the bottle landed, it was directed between a pair of twins. You swallowed hard as you met both of their gazes. “Choose one Y/N.” someone’s voice said. You looked at the one who’s hair was quiffed up, with a dangling earring on his ear, then you looked over at the other twin. Something about him intrigued you. You bit your lip as you looked at his yellow streak of hair and how effortlessly cute he was. “Are you done analyzing them Y/N?” Cameron’s voice boomed and everyone broke out into laughter. Blushing, you stood up and pointed at the one with the wavy hair. “Oh, Ethan Dolan.” One of the guys said smugly as he stood up. You gulped as you both walked over to the closet. Ethan seemed very innocent, maybe too innocent. As soon as you shut the door to the closet you felt someone crash their lips against yours. You were taken back at first but Ethan turned out to be a really good kisser. His hands gripped your ass and he brought your body closer to his. You felt the electricity course through you as you pulled on his hair. A few moans escaped your lips and his hands slid up your shirt. Completely forgetting it was supposed to just be 7 minutes in heaven you obliged and raised your arms. He threw it onto the ground carelessly and you fiddled with his belt. The loud knocks on the door tore you both apart. You took in his disheveled state, his hair sticking out in random places while he had lipstick stains on the corners of his mouth. He stifled a laugh as you put your shirt back on. 


You awkwardly opened the door and everyone whistled at the sight of you both doing the walk of shame. You walked back towards your seat but you suddenly felt a hand squeeze your ass. Your turned around and Ethan leaned into your ear. “Maybe we could make it a night in heaven.” He grinned at you and tucked a small slip of paper into your back pocket. He walked away leaving you speechless. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the tiny piece of paper. Scribbled onto it was Ethan’s address and phone number. Secretly smiling to yourself, you returned the slip back into your pocket and flashed Ethan a flirty smile. This party had turned out better than you thought.

When You Say It Like That- Simon Imagine

Miniminter X Reader

Warnings: Smut

You and Simon broke up but at a party and discover you miss each other 

So this is roughly based on the song Say it by Flume (ft. Tove Lo) I just go the idea when i was listening to that song this morning so enjoy. Also sorry I haven’t written much lately I’ve been really busy and getting busier now but I’ll be trying my best to get stuff out so if you have any requests feel free :)

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anonymous asked:

That pic of Tarjei where he's filming his new TV show gives me some rich bad boy vibes haha! Somebody write the fic *cough* *cough* haha :D

RIGHT?

The slicked back hair and narrowed gaze? He’s seriously giving me some wealthy bad boy son of a powerful business man vibes. I can just picture him rolling up to the school in a Porsche or Lamborghini or some outrageously expensive car with the weird doors that open up instead of out, and then he climbs out one black skinny-legged jean clad leg at a time and just- grins at all of the teenagers staring at him. And maybe winks.

And when I’m thinking this, I’m thinking he’s out and proud, so he doesn’t flinch away at the obvious appreciation a couple of the guys (and so many of the girls because that’s Isak fucking Valtersen it doesn’t matter which way he swings he’s a fucking god.

But he doesn’t return it either because standing in the midst of the stares and grins, is a tall boy in a cool denim jacket and Raybands- hair quiffed and shiny- greeting his arrival with an expression that would seem bored to anyone else, but that’s only because they can’t see the mirth underneath. (Let’s say Even circa beginning of the season when Isak watched him stride through the yard to his friends.)

And Isak wouldn’t hesitate, strutting through the schoolyard with a cool gaze, nodding at friends and admirers and until he manages to make his way to Even, who just throws an arms around Isak’s shoulder and they make their way into the school’s entrance.

And everyone just watched them go because Isak and Even? 

They are the fucking power couple of the school.

Luke Hemmings - My Dirty Little Secret

Pairing: Luke and Y/N

Word Count: 5.6k+

Rating: smut smut smut

Requested: Nah

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Strong, Chapter 1: First Impressions

Welcome! :)

I’m so happy to be here, writing another multi chapter fic for you lovely people.

So, without further ado:

This is completely AU. No Jason murder, no events of S1. Jughead is a born and raised South-Sider, he knows no such thing as an Archie, Veronica or Betty. (Not for long!) He does know fellow South-Sider, Cheryl though ;)

God, I’m so excited to write these characters. I really wanted to write JB, and Gladys also. You may have some questions after the first chapter, but hold on, they shall be answered.

*DISCLAIMER* I know absolutely nothing of the American school system, so please just take it with a grain of salt as it is more than likely not accurate. I’m not American, hence ‘Mum’. Although I’ve read so many fics with 'Mom’ I almost slipped up a couple times! Ha.

Also edited myself so sorry for any mistakes!!

Also posting this from mobile so sorry for the no read more break, and anything else that could potentially go wrong with this shitty app.

Aaaaand I think that’s all! Enjoy, buggies. ❤️

Read on AO3!; http://archiveofourown.org/works/11748321/chapters/26476650

<b>Summary:<\b><i>Betty Cooper swore she only signed up to tutor a young girl from South Side High, and definitely not for what followed.

And Jughead Jones didn’t sign up for anything.

**

It was sunny out.

And Betty thought the temperature was high enough to warrant the black denim high waisted shorts she had changed into, paired with a simple white tank top she tucked in. As she turned herself in front of her bedroom mirror, she spared a thought to how her Mother would disapprove. <i>'Far too much skin, Elizabeth.’ </i>A smirk grew on her face. Well, she wasn’t home from work in time to scorn her choice of clothing today. And in a last minute act of rebellion Betty didn’t even grab a cardigan as she popped her feet into a pair of converse, tightened her ponytail, and left the house. 

Her phone started to buzz in her back pocket. She reached for it as she continued her journey to Pops. It was nearly August and the warmer weather was coming to an end. Which meant that Summer Break was also, and Betty had put her name forward for a “Big Sister” volunteer programme at a school on the other side of town, Southside High. She was hoping this is what the phone call was about. It was basically after school tutoring for any student who was put forward, Betty had done it last year with a different young girl and she was looking really looking forward to it again. Regardless of <i>'how good it looks on a college application’ </i>, in her Mothers words. 

Not that it mattered. Betty already had early acceptance to the Medill school of Journalism at Northwestern, starting in the Spring Semester. Chicago was far enough for Betty to gain some independence, but not far enough that she couldn’t visit often. 

“Hello, Elizabeth Cooper speaking.” She answered, always polite, always the full name if the number was unknown.

“Hi, Elizabeth? This is Gladys Jones. I’m ringing in regards to the Big Sister programme at South Side High. How are you?” The voice through the phone sounded maternal, and younger than Betty had expected. 

“This is she, but Betty is fine. I’m well, thank you Mrs Jones. I’m glad to be hearing from you.” And she was, it was genuine. Betty loved to offer a hand to any student who wanted to better themselves. 

“Well, Betty, I’m glad to be calling. I was shown a few profiles from some of the volunteers, and yours stood out to me the most. You seem to have a wide range of curricular, extra and otherwise.” Betty smiled on the other end of the phone, she did look awfully good on paper. “And I was hoping, if you haven’t already been snatched up of course, that you would buddy up with my daughter." 

"I would love too, Mrs Jones, thank you for considering me.” She smiled while checking the road to cross. 

“Of course.  Would you like to come over tomorrow and meet myself and JB? Say around 4pm? I will be home from work then" 

"Yes, definitely, I’ll see you both then. I look forward too it.” Betty replied. 

“As do I, Betty. I’ll send you through our address, and I’ll see you then. Thanks again." 

She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face after the phone call had ended, and it still resided there as she walked through the front door at Pops, the ding of the bell alerting her arrival to her best friends. 

"There she is, my own personal ray of sunshine. I took the liberty of ordering your usual for you.” Veronica nodded at the vanilla milkshake that was waiting for Betty as she slide into their usual booth opposite her and Archie. She smiled at Veronica in thanks. “And what, or who, has gotten into you to make you look so happy, huh?" 

"V, honestly.” She joked, rolling her eyes. “I actually just got off the phone with the Mother of a Southside High student about the Big Sister programme. She wants to meet me tomorrow.” She explained, taking a sip of her shake. 

“Oh that’s cool, Betty.” Archie chimed in, smiling across the booth at Betty. “I remember how much you enjoyed that last year." 

"Thanks, Arch.” She returned his smile and gave a thought back to other things he probably didn’t remember from last year. Or chose not too. Like her unrequited feelings of what she thought was love towards him, but turned out to just be a silly childish obsession gone on too long. As soon as she had seen Archie with Veronica, she was simply happy for the both of them. There was no jealousy, and Betty found relief in finally letting go of that Andrews fantasy. Besides, Veronica was such a permanent fixture in Bettys own day to day life now that she would not have it any other way. 

Even if that meant being the third wheel more often than not when there was no one else to act as a buffer. 

“Well, that’s less risque than I was hoping. But, you are the true star of Riverdale after all, Betty Cooper. What will this town do without you?” Veronica was only half joking. “What will I do without you!” She reached across the table to take Betty’s hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. 

“Chicago really isn’t that far from NY, V. We will see each other all the time, I promise.” Betty squeezed back in return. 

“Oh, I will make sure of it. Daddy’s jet will be getting so much use it won’t know what hit it.” Archie sniggered at how pretentious she had sounded, and Betty couldn’t help but join in. Veronica waved her hand in dismissal and rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. “Oh Archie, please, don’t act as though you haven’t been begging me to take you on your first flight." 

Now Betty was laughing in Archie’s direction, the look on his face one of a boyfriend who just got shut down by his own, entitled girlfriend. The sound of their laughing was cut off by the ding of the bell above the door again, Archie watching the group who just walked in over Betty’s shoulder. 

"Those Serpent wannabe kids do hang out here a lot lately.” His eyes were trained on the leather jackets of the group as they made their way to the back corner booth. “I wish they would fuck off, they give me the creeps.” Betty shot him a dirty look. 

“Jeez, Arch, louder for those in the back please.” But the curiously had gotten the better of Betty as she glanced quickly over her shoulder into the back corner of the diner. It was the same group as always, 3 boys and the red headed girl. One of the boys, Betty had noticed, never seemed to be without his grey beanie, detailed to look like a crown. It stood out against the harsh of his leather jacket, and she wondered how the two fit together. 

“They might be scum but those jackets make them super hot, right Betty?” Veronica asked, watching the group with hungry eyes. 

“They aren’t scum, V.” Was all Betty would reply, she refused to admit that there was something about the leather that did make them seem more attractive. Unattainably  so. The attitude that seemed to come with the jacket probably helped the cause. They looked miserable, all the time, Betty thought as she looked back toward her friends. Especially the one with the beanie. She wondered if it was part of the act. 

“Say, Archiekins, do you think if I got you a leather jacket like that, you would swap it out for you letterman? Just for a night or two, just for me?” Veronica made eyes at her boyfriend, the way she held the straw in her mouth more than enough to imply exactly what she meant. 

“Only if you wear one to match, and nothing else." He winked.

"Okay, guys, ew!” Betty pulled a face, covering her ears with her hands. This was the kind of thing that made her resent being a third wheel. She could handle watching them try and eat each other’s faces off, but sex talk? No thanks. She didn’t get paid enough for that. “There’s a minor present." 

Archie threw his arm around Veronica’s shoulder as they laughed, pulling her closer to him. "You’ll get there, Betty.” Archie joked. Betty just rolled her eyes at the both of them and quickly finished her milkshake. 

“Well, there won’t be any leather jackets, that’s for sure.” She shimmied her way down the bench to exit the booth. “And on that note, I’m going home. I need to get some more reading done in advance for school, seeing as I’ll have just less time when the new term starts up with this tutoring." 

"B, you just got here! You bore.” Veronica sighed, her mouth shaped in an exaggerated pout. To anyone else it would seem condescending, but not to Betty. She knew Veronica well enough to know she always meant well.

“Bye guys, I’ll text you later, V.” She climbed from the booth and walked backward toward the door, waving at her friends. Just as she turned back she walked into something hard. And leather. It was the chest of one of the serpent group, one of the beanie less boys. “Shit, sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She offered the boy a forgiving smile. He wasn’t much taller than Betty, his jet black hair quiffed back from his face. 

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He looked her up and down, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’ll watch for you instead." 

"Oh Joaquin, please.” The red head rolled her eyes, but was watching Betty with a look she couldn’t quite grasp. Her lips were blood red, matching her hair, and her arms were crossed right across her chest. And even though she was shorter than Betty, the look she was giving made her feel small. “We all know she’s not your type." 

Betty faked a laugh, but she could feel the colour creeping into her cheeks. And she figured you could see it, at least the rest of the group who were stood behind this guy definitely could. She gave him another smile before getting out of there as fast as she could without running. She could feel all their eyes burning into the back of her head. 


**


It was 3.30 the next afternoon, and Betty was yet again stood in front of her bedroom mirror. But this time she was dressed just how her mother approves. Dark blue jeans, and a pastel pink sweater with a white collar. 

"Elizabeth, downstairs quickly! You don’t want to be late. Punctuation is key!” Betty rolled her eyes at her Mother, but did as she was told. With one more tight tug of her pony, she slipped her feet into a pair of black ballet flats and hurried down the stairs. Alice Cooper, her overbearing, ever concerned, painfully punctual Mother was already waiting for her at the front door. She was tapping her foot, and giving Betty a look that she was all too familiar with. 

“Sorry, Mum.” she murmured as she slipped past her out the front door, avoiding her gaze. As she walked to the car, she could hear her Mother muttering as she followed. 

“It’s not just you that would look bad, Elizabeth. It would also fall back on us, your parents.” Her tone was condescending, and Betty was all too familiar with the words that fell from her Mothers tongue. “Would you want to disappoint us like that? Like your sister?” Betty could feel her fingers curling into her palm, her nails itching to break skin. She shook it off, stretching her fingers before opening the door and climbing into the car. 

“Mum, it only takes 15 minutes to drive to South Side. We have plenty of time.” Betty crossed her arms over her chest, purposely looking straight ahead to stare at the garage door. Alice sighed as she sat in the drivers seat, angling her body to face Betty and tilting her head in concern. 

“Are you taking your medication, Elizabeth?” There was that tone again, always with that tone. If she actually paid any attention at all to her daughter, she may have noticed that Betty hadn’t been taking any of her medication in weeks. Months, for that matter. Betty would hold the pills under her tongue until she had opportune moment to spit them out again.  With everything that had happened with Polly, both of her parents had been rather distant lately. But that didn’t mean Betty wasn’t still nagged at every minute they were around. She continued to ignore  Alice, averting her eyes to stare out at the front garden through the car window. “Answer me, Elizabeth.”  

“Yes, Mother.” Betty finally answered through gritted teeth. “Twice a day every day.” She heard her Mum sigh beside her. 

“We just want the best for you, sweetie. We want you to be your best.” She was being genuine, but that didn’t make it any easier for Betty to swallow. It was never about what she wanted. It was just about how good she could make her parents look. Alice reached out her hand to rest on the side of Betty’s arm, an attempt at being sincere. Betty turned to her Mother, a fake smile plastered on her mouth. 

“Thanks, Mum. But we need to leave.” She nodded to the clock on the dashboard that now showed the time as 3.35pm. “Punctuation is key!” She mocked. Now it was Alice’s turn to roll her eyes as she turned in her seat and started the engine. They were backed out of the drive and on their way before Alice spoke again. 

“Look, Betty. I know sometimes we are hard on you. But, but after Polly, can you blame us?” <i>Can you blame her?</i> Betty thought. No wonder she threw it all in and ran half way across the world. Polly had needed her freedom, she wanted to make her own life decisions, and Betty was starting to understand that more every day. “We gave your sister everything. She had every option she could have wanted, and yet she threw it all back on our faces.” Alice’s voice had started to falter, and Betty knew talking about Polly made her upset. 

“Mum, I’m not Polly.  Please don’t get upset.” She glanced in her Mothers direction. “I’m just nervous, okay?” Which wasn’t a complete lie. She needed to make a good impression today, although that wasn’t an entirely new concept. She had been taught that first impressions were everything. Alice looked at Betty in her peripheral and offered a light smile that didn’t touch her eyes. 

“You’ll do great, Betty. You always do. Just remember, chin up. Don’t slack.” Betty unfolded her arms in favour of wringing her hands together. They had driven over the rail bridge that separated the North and South sides of Riverdale, which meant they would be arriving to the Jones’ shortly. Betty could feel her hands slick with sweat, but she tried to push away her anxious thoughts. She had done this before, and as long as the girl wasn’t a complete nightmare she knew she could handle it. Betty thrived off of helping others. 

“It’s this next left, Mum.” Betty directed Alice down the right street, eyes squinting to read the numbers on the letterboxes. “It’s number 44 so it’s on my side.”  The neighbourhood was nice, it looked as though the street could blend in just fine on the other side of the tracks. 

“These houses are much tidier than where I dropped you last year. Thank god." Alice Cooper, the queen of laying judgment. She pulled into the driveway once they had reached the right house. Alice turned to Betty in her seat once again, reaching out her hand to dust off Betty’s shoulder. "Now, do well. And call me when you need me or your Father to pick you up.”

“I could get the bus, Mum. It’s just down the road an -”

“God, no. I don’t want you walking around here on your own. If anything comes up, I’ll ask Archie to get you.” Alice smiled a small smile at her daughter. 

“Okay, thanks Mum. I’ll call you later.” Betty offered a smile in return , opened the car door and climbed out. She knew her Mother would wait until she was in the front door before she left, so Betty took in the house quickly as she walked to the door. It was lovely, and looked well kept. There was a red Mazda CX3 in the drive, which was a sight in itself. Obviously this family had money. Betty took a deep breath before raising her fist and knocking on the door. 

The woman who answered the door was younger than Betty was expecting, yet again. Or maybe she just looked that way. Gladys Jones was of a similar height to Betty, her black hair fell just below her shoulders. Her blue eyes were striking. 

“Betty? Hi, please, come in.” Gladys pulled the door open wide, holding her arm out to welcome her in. Betty stepped foot through the front door into the kitchen, which was open plan with the living room. Everything was white and bright, and there was a young girl sat at the island in the kitchen. The girl, with hair longer than her Mothers but the same exact colour, smiled a dazzling smile at Betty. 

“This is JB, and I’m Gladys.” The older woman says, moving around to stand behind her daughter, her hands grasping thr girls shoulders. “Welcome. Can I get you a drink of something?" 

"A water would be lovely, thanks.” Betty moved around the island and perched on the stool next to JB. She smiled down at the young girl, and she noticed that her eyes were the same deep sea blue as her Mothers. She smiles a thanks at Gladys as she puts the glass in front of Betty. “Hi, JB. I’m Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Betty. Is JB a nickname?” The girl offered Betty a shy smile. She must be around 13, Betty thought. 

“It stands for Jellybean.” She answered, ducking her head a little. Betty looked up at Gladys, who just shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “Which is still a nickname, anyway.”

“Her Dad fought a hard case, and she won’t tell you her real one unless she trusts you with her life.” Gladys smiled, and Betty noticed the lines at the corner of her eyes. She was beautiful, but she looked tired. And not tired like she didn’t have enough sleep the night before, but more like she had been exhausted for a long time. Betty commended herself on how she could read people. “Well, I’m going to go and sort out some washing, how about you two get to know each other some more.” She ruffled JB’s hair as she walked passed them, leaving the kitchen into the laundry attached. 

“You know,” Betty nudged JB’s shoulder with her own, “I’m going to make it my goal to get your real name out of you. I’ll prove you can trust me, JB.” She offered the young girl a warm smile, that was returned ten fold. “So, tell me, whats your favourite subject in school?" 

"Science.” Jellybeans face lit up, and then it was hard for Betty to get a word in. Not that she minded. She told her all about her school, her friends, how her 14th birthday was coming up and she didn’t know if she was allowed to invite boys to her house just yet but one of her best friends was a boy. She told her how her teachers always compared her to her brother and she hated it. 

“Your brother?” Betty asked, her interest peaked. She had gotten the impression that it was just JB and Gladys, but then again, this house was awfully big for just the two of them. Betty was trying to pick up as much information she could without directly asking, rather waiting for JB to when she felt comfortable.  "Does he go to school with you?“

"He’s in senior year, same as you I think?” Betty nodded at JB. “He’s a shit head in school, and all the teachers think I’ll be a chip off the old block." 

"Oh, well that’s not fair.” Betty was taken a back a little by how easy JB had sworn, but she had to remind herself that just because she still couldn’t say the word crap in her parents house without some alarm going off didn’t mean it was the same for everyone else. Jellybean just shrugged.

“It’s okay, he’s not a shit head to me.” She smiled, spinning herself side to side on her stool. “He’s my big brother, he’s the best.” Betty felt warmth in her chest, the way that JB felt towards her brother was the same that she felt with Polly. 

“That’s nice, JB.”
 
“Him and Mum don’t get along that well, but..” Jellybean trailed off, catching herself before she spilled all their Jones family secrets to this girl she has just met. Sure, Betty was nice and seemed understanding, but JB liked her and didn’t want to scare her away. This house was a good facade for how much they were a South Side family, through and through. 

“I know what thats like.” Betty nudged her shoulder, realising that JB didn’t want to carry on with that sentance just yet. “My Sister and Parents definitely do not see eye to eye.” Jellybean gave Betty a small smile in gratitude, and was about to ask about her sister when she heard the distinct rumbling of a motorbike coming into the street. 

“Speak of the devil.” Jellybean joked. Betty turned her head toward the window, watching a dark figure park up in the driveway on a motorbike.

“What’s your brothers name, dare I ask?” Was all Betty had time to ask before he made his way through the front door.

“Jughead.” Jellybean answered Betty, and announced his arrive at the same time. As the boy took off his helmet, Betty was shocked to realise it was the beanie wearing serpent from Pops. As if in time with her thoughts, Jughead reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled the hat onto his head. He walked around the behind Betty to Jellybean, ruffling her hair on his way to the fridge.

“Hey, Kid. Where’s Mum?” He asked, not really taking any notice of Betty. She couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered, especially after how much she floundered after the interaction she had with him and the rest of his gang yesterday.

“Doing laundry, you’re safe.” She joked, smiling at her brother.

“Good.” He opened the milk and drank straight from the carton, something Betty found kind of gross. He raised his eyes brows in her direction, a question to his sister.

“Oh, this is Betty. She’s my tutor for the new term, for after school.” Jellybean turned to look at Betty sat beside her. “This is Jughead.” Betty smiled at him.

“Another nickname, I’m presuming?” God, why did she ask that. Like it was any of her business. She could feel the flush rising in her cheeks. Jughead just gave her a sly smile while he screwed the lid back on the milk. This was the most she had gotten to look at him properly, not just from the far corner of the diner. He was good looking, that she wouldn’t deny. He had a sharp jaw, and those blue eyes that seemed to be a Jones trait. She also couldn’t help but notice his hands, the way they grasped the bottle.

“It’s far better than the alternative, trust me.” He shut the fridge door, making to pick up his helmet on his way to the hall that on the opposite side of the kitchen. “I’ve seen you
around, at Pops.” Betty was slightly shocked, she didn’t really think she was someone Jughead would notice. His eyes were trained on her now, and she suddenly hated the fact that she blushes so easily.

“Yeah, I’m there a lot with my friends.” She smiled at him, hoping her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“That’s it, you’re always third wheeling with that ginger kid and his rich girlfriend, right?” He snarked, a smirk on his face. Betty dropped her smile, his comment kind of pissed her off. She knew she was a third wheel, she didn’t need others pointing it out for her.

“Didn’t realise I was that obvious.” She shot back, a sharp tone to her voice.

“Sometimes, to me.” He still had a smirk on his face, and Betty couldn’t help but find herself enjoying his face. Her heart was beating a little faster, had he really noticed her? He looked her up and down before he spoke again. “When you’ve got those legs out.” He winked, before turning around and walking into the hall.

“Jug! Can you not!” Jellybean called out to her brother, shaking her head in shame. She shot an apologetic look to Betty. “Sorry, told you he was a shit head.”

“It’s okay.” Betty laughed. And as much as she probably wouldn’t admit it, she had kind of enjoyed those comments. It usually wasn’t her who got hit on, that normally fell to Veronica. But she kind of liked it. Or maybe she just liked the way he looked at her. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. Jughead was just a boy, this is just what they do. They liked to play games. Wasn’t it similar to what happened at Pops yesterday? She reminded herself. “Where were we?”

Betty had stayed for a little longer, Gladys came back and the three of them sat and talked. She turned down the invitation of dinner, claiming that her Mother would have already accounted for her, although in reality she wanted to avoid another run in with Jughead.

Later that night while she was trying to sleep, she convinced herself that he was just trying to irk her. He was in a gang after all, it was probably a territorial thing. She wouldn’t let some tiny little run in get to her, she was Betty Cooper after all.


*

boneyard

Pansy Parkinson was the type of girl to end her love letters in x’s and o’s.

Except her x’s were bones and her o’s were skulls and her love letters were always more like death threats taped to her lover’s locker.

She wore black lipstick and choker necklaces and was the kind of crafty, never-present student all the teachers despised, yet she managed to be top of the class ever single fucking time and it drove everyone mad.

She smelled of peppermint and looked like Persephone’s softest daydream. Her kisses were sweet and her punches were like cotton candy.

Pansy was possessive. Like the moon in the sky, desiring every eye to fall upon her precious being.

And when she wanted something, she would stop at nothing to ensure she was queen of it. All the boys were afraid of her and all the girls idolized her.

With her perfectly manicured midnight-colored nails and her ironed pleated mini skirt, she practically owned the school.

Yeah.

That is, until she works her way through an entire bag of exceptionally well-charmed licorice meant to bring tangibility back to the dead.

In her state, though—her very alive state—she transforms into a ghost.

 A fucking ghost.

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Use The Spare Bedroom

Summary: Phil starts bringing boys home. Dan starts tweeting song lyrics. 

Word Count: 3436

A/N: List of songs referenced at the end. 


It started one Friday night. Dan was sprawled out on the couch. Laptop up and open to tumblr. He was settled for the night.

Then Phil came out of his room. He was in black jeans and a button up shirt.

‘I’m going out with some friends from uni.’ He announced.

'Oh.’ Dan took a few moments to process the information. 'Since when?’

'About forty-five minutes ago. I got a message and I thought why not?’

'Why not.’ Dan echoed.

'So… I’m not sure how late we’ll be out. Don’t wait up for me.’

'Ok.’

Dan didn’t normally get to bed until about 2am on a normal night. He sort of thought he would see Phil come in before he headed off to retire for the night. But at 1.30am when he was heading off there was still no sign of Phil whatsoever.

He was woken up at 3am to the sound of a door slamming.

'Sshh.’ Followed by a giggle. 'My roommate is asleep.’

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What’s he gonna wear? A suit? Skinny jeans? Or will he change his style up completely? What about accessories? Will he wear hats, scarves, nail polish, make up? How’s he gonna wear his hair? Will it be blow dried, quiffed, or left to curl naturally? How long is it? Has he let it grow or had it cut to style? What will his music sound like? And his voice? Has he had any vocal tutoring or therapy? Will his songs include falsetto? Will he be playing any instruments? How will he present in his live performances? What are his new tattoos? And are there more than what we’ve seen? What’s on his mind to talk about? His recording process? Dunkirk? What this time off has meant to him? What and who has influenced him in writing his music? Who did he work with? What are his future plans? And this is just the superficial tip of the iceberg. I haven’t even touched on his personal thoughts about stuff. I so hope he gets asked the right questions and is allowed to shine and show the public who he really is. He has so much to give. They better let him show it. And wow. I’m overwhelmed by Harry again!

Coffee on me - chapter two

A Kwon Jiyong/ G-Dragon Fanfiction

Description: She moved to Seoul in search of stardom, but after one year all she has is a douche for a boyfriend, and a job at a cafe that pays minimum wage. after a particularly bad day she starts to wonderif she should pack her bags and head home, but when kwon jiyong strolls into her cafe she begins to wonder if things might start going her way… that is until she spills his coffee on him.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse, fluffy fluffy Jiyong

A/N: sorry it took literally forever for chapter two but here it is! and boy does this plot get thicc!

Another week came, and with each ring of the service bell I forgot more and more about the cute customer with a gummy smile. Focusing on making aesthetic latte designs while juggling angry customers makes it almost impossible to dream about a certain sunshine haired boy.

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Bad Teacher pt. 1

It was the last hour of the day, and with the four hours of sleep you got last night combined with the completely uninteresting math lesson being reviewed in front of you, you couldn’t help it when your head began to nod and your eyes became too heavy to be forced open any longer. Giving up, you lie your head down on your crossed forearms, quickly drifting into a light sleep. You weren’t the type to sleep during class, but, given the conditions, you figured it would be fine.

No more than five minutes passed by before your teacher, Mr. Hemmings, slammed a heavy book down on the unoccupied desk in front of you. Bolting straight upright from your catnap, you looked up at the narrowed eyes of the young teacher in front of you, who wore a judging look upon his handsome, hard face.

“Sorry to bore you, Miss (Y/L/N), but I hope you will be considerate enough to put up with the remainder of the insipid review I’ve put together for you,” he stared at you harshly while you wiped the dried drool from your cheek. You avoided making eye contact with the man, assuming he would walk away and continue the review, having already embarrassed you in front of the whole class, but he continued, “I imagined you would appreciate it, considering the upcoming mid-term will be composed of the first five chapters in this unit; pardon me for attempting to make your life easier.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a small sigh, not agreeing that your power nap was the end of the world, as your teacher thought it was. Again, he spoke loudly, “You want to roll your eyes just one more time?” He dared you, pushing his large hands into his pant pockets. You felt your cheeks growing bright red as you noticed the stares of all your classmates, some of them giggling with their neighbors. “Well?” He questioned you again, his voice was hard, reminding you to choose your words carefully.

"No,” was all you could quietly choke out.

"Excuse me?”

"No, sir,” you spat, louder this time, glaring at him.

He stared down at you with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow before responding, “See me after class,” and turning sharply on his heel before clearing his throat and continuing the lesson in his regular tone.

You put your head in your hands, wondering what crawled up his ass and died. All day long, you had looked forward to getting home before your parents arrived and began their nightly drunken brawling, but now it looked like you would get just as much sleep as last night, if not less.

After staring down every tick and every tock of the clock, its hands finally reached 2:42, and the bell dismissed each of my classmates, who scurried out of the room as quickly as they possibly could without trampling the body in front of them.

You gathered your things and slowly shuffled to Mr. Hemmings’s desk, where you stood in front of him, but did not meet his icy blue stare. After standing like this for what felt like forever, he finally cleared his throat, making you meet his gaze and attempt to swallow the lump that had lodged itself in your own.

"So, (Y/N),” he began slowly, “would you care to explain to me why you were sleeping in my class when you are well aware of our no-sleeping-in-my-class policy?” He raised his eyebrows while resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. Again, you averted your eyes, feeling sweaty under the intensity of his unwavering stare.

In response to his question, you just shrugged; you were unwilling to discuss the conditions of your private life with the man who had just barked at you like a military sergeant in front of your peers.

You heard him sigh loudly as he stood from his rolling chair. Glancing up, you furrowed your brows as he made his way to the front of his desk; there was now less than three feet between the two of you. You swallowed again, still attempting to remove the lump from your throat. Leaning against the front of his desk, he crossed his arms. “You are usually a very attentive student in my class, as well as the rest of your classes,” he spoke as he tilted his head back and licked his plump lips. For a moment, you wondered if he had asked your other teachers about your classroom behavior, but shrugged it off as unimportant. “Lately, though, you seem to have trouble focusing, and even staying awake,” he nodded in the direction of your desk, obviously referring to the incident that happened just twenty minutes earlier.

Again, he stood, creeping toward you one step at a time. With every step he took, your breath seemed to catch in your throat as you looked him up and down, from his neatly quiffed hair to his tight black dress shirt, which hugged every muscle he possessed perfectly, to his matching black dress pants, which were just as tight, all the way down to his shiny black dress shoes, and all the way back up. When you reached his clear blue eyes, he towered above you while standing less than a foot away from you. Given the close proximity, you were drowned in the smell of his earthy cologne. Inhaling deeply, you searched his face, trying to decipher his motives. A look of concern lived upon his face, and he lifted his arms to place both of his hands upon your shoulders while staring deeply into your eyes; your breath hitched at the contact.

"You know, (Y/N), you can tell me anything.” At the soft tone he spoke with, you trusted him, but you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so harsh during class, but so kind now.

When you lowered your head to look at your shoes, inspecting them to avoid replying to the man, he stepped closer to you, not leaving any space between your bodies as he wrapped his arms around your figure. With wide eyes, you slowly wrapped your own arms around your teacher’s muscular shape, not knowing if you should be hugging your teacher.

You gasped as you felt Mr. Hemmings’s hands rubbing small circles down your back until they finally reached your butt. Your hands tightly gripped his shirt as his own hands squeezed your ass, to which he let out a soft groan.

“God, (Y/N), your ass is incredible,” he continued kneading your bottom and he began placing light kisses on the nape of your neck.

“Um, Mr. Hemmings,” you stuttered as you slightly pushed against his body, trying to create some space. You could feel the wetness of your throbbing heat growing as you panted, although you would never admit that.

He mumbled in response, just enough to let you know he could hear you, while he lifted your skirt to play with your panty-covered ass. Silently, you thanked yourself for wearing a cute pair of underwear.

“What are you doing?” Your face was bright red as you, once again, put less than half of your effort into pushing him away. “I don’t think we should be doing this,” you lied, wanting nothing more than to be doing this.

He whipped you around and bent you against the cold, wooden desk. His fingertips dug into your hips as he stared at the curvature of your ass and the way your black lace panties hugged your bottom just right. He pressed himself against you and began grinding into your ass, making you cover your mouth to muffle the loud moan that escaped.

He bent down over you to whisper hotly in your ear, “So you’re telling me you don’t want this?” Slowly, he thrusted into your backside. You kept your hand over your mouth as yet another moan slipped by your lips. Shaking your head, you hoped he would see through your lie. Behind you, he stilled for a moment before reaching a hand down to feel your aching heat through your panties. You groaned as he rubbed you through your soaked underwear. Moving the fabric to the side, he rubbed small circles into your clit, making you cover your mouth again to refrain from calling out and drawing the suspicion of passersby.  

“This part of you doesn’t seem to be so sure of that.” You didn’t even have to look at him to know that he wore a cocky smirk on his face. Lying your head on the cool desk as you bit your lip, he asked you another time, “Are you sure you don’t want this, (Y/N)? All you have to do is say no,” he spoke softly into your ear. As much as you wanted to tell him to stop to not give him the satisfaction of having you so vulnerable, you could not bring yourself to give even the slightest shake of your head.

His body weight was removed from on top of you, but as you started to turn around to look for him, you were quickly turned back around and your head was pushed into the desk, making you gasp. From behind you, you heard Mr. Hemmings say, “Be a good girl and sit still.” Although you wanted to disobey him and see what he was doing, you thought it best to do as he said. A moment later, you felt the man’s large hands push your thighs apart and hold them in place. Seconds after that, his tongue dove in between your folds, slurping up your wetness and licking every inch of your pussy.

“Mr. Hemmings!” You exclaimed and whimpered as he did this. Your back arched to help him find more areas to lick. You could no longer hold back your voice as the man between your thighs sucked on your clit, making your legs shake. A long finger eased itself inside of you, twisting around and stretching your pussy, making way for what was to come. A slight burn accompanied the finger, but you still felt a knot growing inside of your stomach as your teacher continued to work on you.

“I-I think,” you were cut short by Hemmings adding another finger, making you wince slightly, but the pain quickly subsided as he curved his fingers up into you, hitting a spot inside of you that felt better than anything else. You curled your toes inside your shoes as your vision was blurred and white dots appeared in front of your eyes. “Oh, god,” you whimpered quietly as you felt the knot inside of you burst and you came around your teacher’s fingers.

He turned you around to make you sit upright on the desk and watch as he licked his fingers clean, making you tilt your head back and moan softly. He pulled you forward into him, making your lips meet for the first time. As you opened your mouth, he inserted his tongue, allowing you to taste yourself on him.

After he pulled back, he placed his hands on either side of you and asked, “Has any boy ever made you feel so good?” As he placed small kisses on your collarbone. Slowly, you shook your head, still dazed from your prior orgasm. Pulling away from you with a smirk on his face, he asked, “What’s the farthest you’ve ever gone with a guy?” He pecked your lips with a small kiss.

You avoided his gaze and question, feeling the blush find its way to your cheeks yet again. His hand reached your chin and turned your head to look at him. “I asked you a question, Miss,” he said sternly, narrowing his eyes again, “and, as your teacher, I expect an answer.”

You swallowed before quietly mumbling, “Nowhere.”

He cupped around his ear and asked you to speak up.

You let out a deep breath before saying, “I’m a virgin,” and looking him in the eyes. The smirk was wiped off his face and he took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“I, uh,” he started slowly, “did not know that.”

This time you were the one to narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and asking, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He seemed to panic as he tried explaining himself, “No, I, uh, didn’t mean that I think you’re easy or anything, I just assumed because most seniors nowadays have, you know, uh, had sex, and such.”

“Well, I haven’t found anyone who I’m willing to give it to yet.”

You were both silent for a minute before you stepped onto the ground and walked over to him, pulling him down by his tie into a passionate kiss. “Until now,” you said shyly as you pulled away from him.

The cocky smirk returned to his handsome face as he watched you straighten your skirt and skirt before gathering your things. “I’ll see you tomorrow in detention, (Y/N),” he called after you as you opened the door and walked away.

Just to refresh your memory, here’s a snippet from my famous/non famous au that I’ve seemingly abandoned. Harry is a big time movie star and Louis works on set as costume standby. Louis is the only person on earth that can’t stand Harry and Harry wants to change that. I promise I’m still working on this and I’m sorry I can’t publish it before the end of summer like I originally said, but I’ll do my best to make it worth the wait. Hope you enjoy!

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Triplets - Smut

Warnings: NSFW Smut!!!!!!!!!

Pairing: StuartxReader

Word Count: 2.1k

Disclaimer: So this is a Stilinski Triplets smut and I tried so hard to make it good so I hope you love it. Ily!!! And Request!!!

Originally posted by teaaaaa-po

New school, new me, you thought to yourself. Pushing through the bulky blue rust covered doors of Beacon Hills High School. You thought to yourself that you would have never thought of moving during your senior of high school. But low and behold your parents picked the most utterly inconvenient time to move because that’s who they were, a big giant pain in the ass. Your life was great in L.A, you had friends, a boyfriend, and you were captain of the cheer team. So when you got the news that you were moving about 100 miles from your old home you were not too thrilled. So now you weren’t the popular one, or the smart one, or the cool one. You were just Y/n, no one knew you, and you knew no one.

First Period: English

Walking into the class you of course got the stares of many, which wasn’t a big deal if there wasn’t a pair of honey eyes staring at you as well. Whoever he was he was gorgeous, moles freckled around his jaw, hair quiffed in the perfect manner, and his eyes… his eyes were amazing. A blush spread throughout your cheeks at you trying not to look at him for too long.   The loud ringing of the bell startled you, and a loud voice of a not-so-pleasant sounding man roared from behind you. “Hey Blondie, what are you doing?” You didn’t understand why he had to yell. “Oh I’m new, I’m Y/n.” You handed him your schedule, his eye brows raised, “Alright, you sit behind Stilinski.” Turning forward, having really no clue who this ‘Stilinski’ person was. Turning back to “Coach” you asked who that was. “Stilinski raise your hand.” He says not even looking back up at you. When you turned around you were meet with not one, not two, but three hands in the air. They all looked alike but they all looked completely different at the same time. Your eyes widened at the sight of three boys in three completely different parts of the room, completely different outfits, and had completely different ways they were looking at you. The one on the far right next to the window, had a blue v-neck on, his hair was quiffed but not like the one you saw before his was more done up. He looked very nervous. The one in the middle back of the room, he had a beanie on, and his phone completely glued to his hand at all times. He tried to look like he couldn’t care less but it didn’t work you could see it in his eyes that he cared too much. The on the far left on the room, the honey eyed one, had a flannel on and a smirk on his face as you were looking at the other two boys.

“Which one?” You asked seriously, but the whole class erupted into laughter. Coaches yelling cause the commotion to calm down, “The one in the blue.” He said. The one in the blue, okay sure lets pick the one who looks like he’s about to throw up, why not. Strutting over to the desk behind him, he didn’t even give you a second look then went right back to his notebook, the page covered in x and o signifying that he was writing football plays.

Lunch:

 After a long four periods that surprisingly went very well. You had met some new girl friends who welcomed you in very quickly and all your classes were surprisingly really great. Walking into the lunch room you got a text from ‘Lydia’ who was one of the 4 girls you met during your third period class. The text read to meet them at one of the outside lunch table. When walking to them you could make out a figure that looked very familiar to you. The one guy who met your eyes with right as you walked into English class. Getting closer you could see that his arm was draped around Lydia so you obviously couldn’t go for that anymore. But that’s okay the other two intrigued you more. Lydia introduced you to everybody that was at the table which included: Lydia, Allison, Kira, Malia, Scott, Stiles, Liam, and Issac. They were all really nice and made you feel right at home. Your curiosity got the best of you and you had to ask, “So you and your brothers are triplets?” It caught him off guard but only for a second, then he laughed out. “Yeah Stuart and Thomas. There my brothers, obviously.” He laughed again. You couldn’t help but ask another question, “So which ones which?” He and the others started to go on and on about the two boys, Thomas was athletic and popular, while Stuart inherited the brains and wit, so did Stiles but Stuart go more of it. Also Stiles claimed he got the looks even though they all looked the same. But he insisted. And Stuart was the one with his phone glued to his fingers and Thomas was the one who looked like he was about to throw up looking at you. This otta be interesting. The last 4 classes were great and no triplets in them, but Gym was my very last period and that had Thomas in it. But all was normal, or so you thought.

The next day:

 Was like any other, you got to first period English and instantly Stiles insisted to be your partner for the group project, which you were really happy about because you could hang out with him and get the deeds on his brothers. Which you have found an attraction to. After the period you and Stiles discussed that you would be meeting at his house to finish the project. You were quiet happy about that because you wanted to check them out and learn little more about all of them. The bell rang signaling you for your next class, yours and Stiles stuff was strung out all over the two desks so you both were the last two out of the class room. “Where are you going?” He questioned. “Chemistry.” You said with an eye role which made him laugh. Stiles was cool but totally not the type of guy you were looking for. His attention went from you, too his brother Thomas. “Hey ass-hat bring back my Lacrosse stick.” His brother just gave him an eye role. “See you later; I’ll text you if anything comes up.”  And then he was off, this was about to be an interesting night.

Knock, Knock, Knock:

Three steady knocks on the wood door with the mail box besides it read; “Stilinski”. Your heart was pounding and you were hoping and praying that Stiles would be the one to open the door. The click of the lock and the yank of the door almost made you want to pass out. And of course not, of course it wasn’t Stiles. Stuart stood in front of you with his school outfit hanging off of him. He was definitely the cockiest Stilinski boy. He always had the ‘I’m-better-than-you look’ all the time and this time he was looking at you and it wasn’t any different. “Hi.” You said sheepishly and shy. “Can I help you?”  He spat back, your shy left your body and your bitch came right out to play. “Yeah actually I’m looking for Stiles, so if you could go and get him that would be peachy, thanks.” His face softened and he almost looked hurt. Almost. “Yeah well he’s not here.” He walked away from the wide opened door. “You’re welcome to wait if you’d like.”  He said plopping onto the sofa that looked like the leather was from the late seventies. The house was nice; but you could tell only boys lived there because of the mess evrywhere.

After about the most awkward hour of your life, you decided to go home, Stiles wasn’t answering his phone, and you were just about done with the small talk with Stuart. “I’m going to go because I’m obviously just an annoyance to you.” He chuckled deeply. And something tinged in your core. “Where you going baby? We had so much more to talk about.” Right as you turned around to say a snarky comment, you were met with pair of two big brown eyes and soft pink lips. He was close to you, to close, you tried to back up but your back was suddenly met with the door behind you. His warm breath casketed onto your face and in that moment you have never felt more safe and secure. “You know, you should be a little nicer to me, you are in my house after all.” You could tell he was nervous but excited. And you could also tell this wasn’t his first time with a girl because he knew all the right moves. “Make me.” You spoke out into a silent whisper. After that your legs were wrapped around his waist and dirty make out session was in place. You could tell he was walking up the stairs, because he had an even tighter hold than he did before on your ass. The kiss ended when both of you had to catch your breath. You were in his room now, the slightly messy but organized space fuelled your imagination and you could help but think, ‘this guy must be really smooth to get me in here so fast’. “Now we want to play naughty? Or, do we want to play nice?” He spoke. He was hot, like really hot, there was always this gorgeous smirk plastered on his face, he made your heart melt even though you have only known him for a few days. “What ever you want honey, you’re the boss, I mean this is your house isn’t it?” You spoke low with the sexiest voice you could find yourself doing. A low growl came from him, and then he lunged at you taking his shirt off in the process.

Tangled limbs left you both in just your underwear. His mouth started to travel down the valley of your boobs, and make his way to your stomach. The hickies he left on you were a dark lilac color and were in every spot noticeable. When he got to your pussy he wasted no time ripping off your undies and eating you out like it was his last meal. “Fuck Stuart.” You screamed when your orgasm came crashing down onto you. Your whole body shook from the enormous amount of pleasure, and you were sure you had never cum that hard in your life. “Wow baby girl that was hot, but no time for sex cause Thomas is almost home and when I fuck you, I want to hear you scream.” With that he helped you get dressed. Apologizing for ripping your underwear and claiming he will buy you knew ones. As the two of you got dressed and down the stairs stopping at every second to kiss and touch on another. He walked you too your car and said your good bye’s. He was sweet and gentle appose to being rough and dominating just five minute’s earlier. You knew that wouldn’t be the last time you two did that.

The next day:

All you remember from getting home was: eating some leftover cold pizza and crashing in your room half naked. So when you woke up in the morning half late from school you didn’t even bother looking in your mirror. You threw on the sexiest casual outfit you had and grabbed your makeup bag and headed out the door. Lydia was honking for a good ten minutes, before you actually made it out side. And she made sure to lecture you about waking up on time. You did your makeup on the ride there, and you thought you looked pretty good. When walking through the halls, you got some strange looks from a few people. You had no clue why but you continued on your way to your locker to get your stuff. Opening it and placing your bad inside, you felt a presence to the left on you and you turned to look that way. Thomas stood there in a simple white tee and some kaki joggers on looking as ‘fuck boyie’ as ever. “So how was my Brother?” You were taken aback for a bit. But then cooled down and asked calmly. “How do you know about that?” You raise your eye brows at him and he lets out a loud chuckle. “I heard you two, and it’s not hard to tell considering you have his signature hickie on your neck.” You panicked and looked into your locker mirror, there was one hickie just to the left of your neck and now you knew why they were all looking at you. You might as well just wrote ‘I had sex’ on your forehead with how obvious it was. Thomas walked away leaving you in shock and confused on how he knew, he wasn’t even home. Or so you thought.

Oh Hell No.

✿without thinking✿

↳ Simon x Reader

Requested: can you do a simon imagine where he’s just acting like a complete asshole to some guy who was hitting on you and there’s angst and fluff and stuff because you didn’t know he felt that way?

Warnings | swearing

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