silk chair

He woke up with a start, mildly disoriented as he tried to place what had woken him. But he couldn’t figure it out. He was just about to go back to sleep when he heard the sound again.

That and the fact that the spot beside him on the bed was empty was enough to let him know exactly who he was looking for even before he slid out of the bed and slipped into his slippers. He pulled on the black silk robe on the chair beside the bed, belted it and walked out of the bedroom, eyes used to the darkness as he went searching for his errant boyfriend.

He found him in the pantry, a look of intense concentration on his face as he studied the pantry, full lower lip caught in between his teeth as he deliberated on whatever he was thinking so hard about.

He was so focused on studying the contents of the pantry that he startled when Magnus slipped his arms behind him and rested his face against his neck

But then he relaxed and yielded and Magnus hummed. “Alexander, I know you’re obsessed with everything in the pantry having its ‘proper place’, but I like it the way it is, I know where everything is. And most importantly, two o'clock in the morning is not the right time to go on a redecorating spree.”

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In America, sex is an obsession, in other parts of the world it’s a fact.

Marlene Dietrich

The Legs Aren’t So

Featuring: Hotch x Female Reader

Warnings: Happy Smut-urday! Okay, this is my last public place smut for a while, I swear! Awkwardness.

Aaron Hotchner had been over Beth for long enough, too long really. He was just lonely, despite Rossi’s best efforts at setting him up. After a quiet three hours on the jet; he gave in and decided to contact Y/N. She had expressed interest in grabbing drinks sometime. Besides he had a kid-free three days with Jack at boy scout camp.

You glanced at the screen of your phone, “HOTCH” was the one surprisingly calling you on a Friday night. You sighed, assuming it was work related. Aaron didn’t really seem like the one to follow up on some easy flirtations. “Y/L/N, whatcha need Hotchner?”

“Alcohol,” He nearly laughed, “and perhaps some conversation.”

“Well, well, I’ll be damned. Hotch is going to let his hair down.” You teased.

“Just promise me you’ll hold my hair back if I get out of control?” The man’s voice alone could send shivers down your spine. When he actually used his razor wit for fun instead of work? There was much more tingling.

“Always, where should I meet you?” You checked the time, still early enough to grab an Uber without an insane surcharge.

“How about that piano bar on sixth?” He offered. “See you in an hour?”

“Piano bar? Sounds fun.” Reid overheard Hotch’s phone call.

“Yes, I could use a drink!” Emily agreed. Suddenly the entire team (minus JJ) was joining in on Hotch’s date. He couldn’t get a word in. Maybe he should cancel? Or at least warn her. As he walked down the stairs, he sent a text to prepare Y/L/N for the onslaught of BAU banter.

He smirked at the thought of his team’s insistence of sticking together even after hours. They were a good bunch and he was determined to not let them stop him tonight. Y/N Y/L/N was smart and extremely attractive, even to the hardened agents’ eyes. Those eyes were on the prize tonight, set somewhere between Y/N’s thighs…

You didn’t mind mixing work with pleasure. You were all adults and it was the weekend. Might as well have a few drinks with well-vetted company. The tech girl was the only one at the table when you walked in, but she remembered you so you felt instantly welcomed. You bought the first round, waiting for the air travelers return.

“How’ve you been doing, Penelope?” You asked, being polite.

“Me?!” Garcia stammered around her straw. “Good! Well, fine really. How, how about you?”

The awkwardness ended the second his dark eyes fell on you. You smiled, his face sly. “Garcia, I hope you have kept Y/L/N entertained?” Aaron said, leaning into to kiss your cheek. You gently held his stubble covered face in reciprocation.

“Sir?” Garcia’s eyes darted around to the suddenly arrived team. “I, uh, so I mean…”

“Aaron, be nice. Penelope was a doll as always.” You leaned over and patted her forearm, reassuringly. The team got drinks and started to release the tension of their latest case with anecdotes and past faux pas. This group was a trip! You had to wipe away tears of laughter on more than one occasion.

Aaron sat beside you, keeping his strong hand on your clothed thigh the whole night. It was during one of Rossi’s stories that you had to take off your cardigan from the heat. Aaron helped you out of it and laid it on the back of your chair. The silk camisole you wore beneath caught his eyes. You side-eyed him and wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. He nearly laughed, returning his attention back to the Italian across the table. His palm inched up your thigh slowly.

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Reverse falls Dipifica credit: Me

Dipper Gleeful waited outside of the Gravity Shack. He was taking his gorgeous girlfriend to a movie and he was waiting for her to get ready. He simply loved going to horror movies with Pacifica. He found it so amusing that she had faced real monsters and ghosts, but she still grabbed his arm when ever parts got scary. If he was really lucky, then the night might end in a make out session.

The door opened and Dipper was disappointed when Gideon walked through.

“Look, I have given Pacifica every cure I could find on a love spell and none of them are working. She still thinks that you are the best thing since Smile Dip.” Gideon said

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Your point?”

“If you don’t tell me-”

“You are so cute when you try to threaten me.” Dipper replied “Besides, I have told you many times have I told you that I have not put a spell on Pacifica.”

“Give me a hint.” Gideon begged “Did you give her some sort of potion.”

Dipper groaned.


Dipper sat in his silk lazy chair reading his journal for the millionth time. He was surprised when Mabel sat on the arm of the chair and laid across his lap and over his book. Her legs dangled off the side while her head rested on the other arm.

“Do you want something, my darling sister?” Dipper asked as he looked down at her wicked grin.

“Do you love me?” She asked.

“Now I am sure that you want something.” He replied.

“Don’t you want me to be happy?” She said “Gideon has not fallen head over heels for me yet, I have no idea why, so I was wondering if I could borrow some of the love spell you put Pacifica?”

Dipper sighed “I did not put a love spell her.”

Mabel laughed and she leaned her head up. “You don’t have to lie to me. We have both done much worse.”

“I never cast any sort of love spell on her.” He spoke slowly and clearly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please.”

“I would if I could, but I have not put a spell on her.”

She got up and stormed off. “Fine, then I be forever alone!”

“Love you.” He called.

“DIE!” she screamed back.

Dipper and Pacifica sat on a blanket spread across the grass. The moon hung over them with the silver light highlighting her natural beauty. A late night picnic was the perfect date. He leaned over and brushed her blond hair behind her ear. He gently kissed her before pulling away.

“Both Mabel and your cousin think I put some spell on you.” Dipper said as he intertwined his fingers with hers. “It is getting ridiculous.”

She winced “That might be my fault.”

“Spill.” Dipper replied

“Well, Gideon kept insisting that you did something, and I was bored, so I kinda just played along. "She replied sheepishly ” I spun alittle story. I told him that one day I saw you and suddenly my life changed. My hatred for you turned into passion instantly"

“You little sly devil.” He muttered “Do you have any idea how much *carp* I am getting for that.”

She kissed him deeply “You’re the best boyfriend.”

Please review

DA Love

Hermione Granger x Reader

Request: Hermione finds out you have a crush on her. She like you back. She’s the first to tell and you kiss to let her know you feel the same. If it’s possible can you have the story go through their relationship over the years? :)

A/N: Okay, I wasn’t entirely sure what you meant when you said over the years, so I just did the first part of the request. Sorry, Anon! However, I made this longer than usual to make up for it x


Originally posted by my-harry-potter-generation

Your name: submit What is this?

You walked on the path from Hagrid’s hut, swerving the other students as you chatted with Dean, occasionally glancing at him as you tried not to step on anyone’s robes.

“Umbridge is doing my head in,” He complained, “she’s taking over the school.”

“I know.” You sighed, “But the Minister is behind this too. I don’t know what’s going on, but if the Ministry is interfering, it sure as hell isn’t a good sign.”

Hermione joined your side, “Hey, Y/N. Dean.”

“Hey, Hermione.” You smiled shyly, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

Dean nudged you slightly, winking slightly as he rose his eyebrows between you and Hermione suggestively. Heat rose to your cheeks and you shoved him slightly, hoping that Hermione hadn’t saw that. “There’s not much we can do, either.” Dean said, diverting the attention away from you.

“Now, that’s not entirely true.” Hermione smiled, “Meet us at Hogs Head at the weekend. We have an idea on how to actually learn some Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“We?” You asked, your heart skipping a beat as she gazed at you. The sun was at it’s highest, though it was filtered through the expanses of clouds. The filtered sunlight glowed off Hermione’s skin and you fought the urge to push back a strand of hair which was blowing in her face.

“Harry, Ron and I.” She replied simply.

You exchanged glances with Dean before shrugging, “Sure, We’ll be there.” Dean replied for the pair of you.

“Great.” Hermione smiled, gently touching your arm before she walked off.

“What the hell was that?” Dean turned to you.

“I don’t know,” You defended, “She took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“Sure.” Snorted Dean, rolling his eyes as he began to wonder whether you would ever have the guts to ask Granger out.

It had been a few days since the meeting in Hogs Head, and finally, the first lesson had been set. It was in the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

“Hey,” You grinned, nodding at Ginny and Dean as you walked through the corridor towards the tapestry. Lavender and Parvati soon joined you and you watched in amazement as a highly polished door appeared on the wall. You glanced over at Dean, who shrugged as if to say ‘just knock on it.’

So you did, pushing the door open slightly, sighing in relief as you saw Harry standing in the middle of the room, Ron at his side. You pushed open the door the rest of the way and stepped in, holding it open for the rest of the group.

“Whoa,” Dean said, staring around the room, impressed. “What is this place?”

Harry began to explain and you zoned out as you took a seat on one of the cushions on the floor. Your mind kept wondering to the bushy haired Gryffindor who was buried in a book labelled Jinxes for the Jinxed. Her hair looked good in a braid, you thought.

The spacious room was lined with wooden bookcases, thousands of books occupying each space except for the set of shelves at the far end of the room, which carried a range of instruments, only a few of them familiar to you. Instead of chairs, large silk cushions sat on the floor, and as more people came in, they each got occupied beside you.

By the time it was eight o’clock, every cushion was occupied and Harry moved across the room to the door, locking it shut loudly. The few people that had been murmuring in small groups fell quiet, turning to look at him. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Hermione mark the page she was on, her gaze jumping to you before settling on Potter.

“Well, this is the place we’ve found for practise sessions and you’ve - er - obviously found it OK.”

“It’s fantastic!” Cho said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her eagerness.

“It’s bizarre,” Fred frowned, “We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then.”

You snorted in amusement. Only the Weasley twins would end up using the Room of Requirement accidentally as a means of escaping Filch.

“Hey, Harry, what’s this stuff?” Dean asked. You turned to look at him; he was standing in rear end of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.

“Dark detectors,” Harry explained, moving between you and Ginny to reach him, “Basically they all show when Dark Wizards or enemies are around, but you don’t want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled…” He paused for a moment, before turning his back on the items, facing the class once more, “Well, I’ve been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and - er - What, Hermione?”

You turned to glance at her, her gaze falling on you briefly and you looked down and away from her, hoping the blush you felt coming on wasn’t noticeable.

“I think we ought to elect a leader.”

“Harry’s leader,” Cho piped up at once. You rolled her eyes, honestly, she was smitten with him, it was disgusting really.

“Perhaps we ought to vote on it formally?” You offered, thinking Hermione had a good point.

“It makes it formal and gives him authority,” Hermione continued, throwing you a smile, a slight pink tinge to her cheeks, “So - everybody who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?”

Everybody put their hands up, including Zacharias Smith, who seemed to have a problem with Harry during the meeting in Hogs Head.

“Er - right, thanks,” Harry’s face was flushed and you grinned ruthlessly at him, “And - what, Hermione?”

“I also think we ought to have a name,” she said brightly, her hand still hanging in the air, “It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don’t you think?”

“What are we going to call ourselves then?” You asked.

“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” Angelina offered hopefully.

“Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?” Fred suggested. You rolled your eyes when George slapped Fred’s palm.

“Maybe something more discreet,” You replied, “So we can refer to it safely outside meetings.”

“Exactly,” Hermione nodded, smiling widely at you. You smiled softly back at her, your heart pounding in your chest. Fred muttered something to George, who grinned as his gaze whipped between you and Hermione. You frowned at him, wondering what they were talking about, before your attention was brought back by Cho.

“The Defence Association?” Cho spoke, “The DA for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”

“Yeah, the DA’s good,” Ginny added, “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s army, because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear isn’t it?”

You laughed at her wit, high-fiving her and the room sounded with appreciative murmuring and laughter.

“All in favour of the DA?” Hermione asked, her tone bossy as she glared at you. You shut up immediately, turning your attention from Ginny to Hermione as you wondered what you had done wrong. You put up you hand, not meeting Hermione’s eye as she knelt on the cushion to count. “That’s a majority - motion passed!”

Expelliarmus.” You cast, causing Dean’s wand to fly out of his hand and clatter to the floor.

“Well done, Y/N.” Harry smiled as he passed you.

You grinned in response, “You’re a good teacher.” You shrugged, “Well, at least, Cho seems to think so.”

Harry’s face flushed at your teasing and you grinned at him. All of a sudden your wand flew out of your hand and you turned to look at Dean.

“What? Stop flirting with Harry, I’m sure Hermione would not like that.” Dean grinned.

“Go fuck yourself.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look, Harry, she’s blushing.” Dean turned to Harry, a teasing smile on his face.

You picked up your wand, swatting Dean on the back of his head with your hand. He laughed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, messing your hair. You laughed, hitting his hand as you escaped his grip. Harry walked away laughing, returning to Ron and Hermione, who to your dismay seemed slightly angry at you. You turned your attention back to Dean, missing how Harry spoke shortly to Hermione, her face slowly sliding into a smile as he spoke.

Soon, Harry blew his whistle and you glanced at your watch. It was ten past nine, which meant you all needed to leave immediately or risk being caught and punished.

The next meeting was set for next Wednesday and you were about to leave when you were called back by Hermione.

Dean grinned mischievously at you, raising his eyebrows at you before he left.

“Yeah, Hermione?” You asked, slowly approaching her.

“Can I talk to you?” She nodded towards the back of the room.

“Sure.” You nodded hesitantly, noticing Harry and Ron grin at each other before leaving the room, “We might get in trouble if Filch sees us, though.”

“I know, but I needed to talk to you.” Hermione replied.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m just going to get straight to it,” Hermione drew in a breath, “I like you.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise as your eyes widened.

“You don’t like me do you?” She asked, regret showing clearly on her face, “I told Harry he was wrong!”

“Hermione -” You tried to cut her off, a smile growing on your face.

“This was a mistake, I shouldn-” 

You cut her off as you pulled her to you, shaking your head in humour as you slowly lowered your lips to hers, making sure she had time to pull away. Hermione smiled, closing the gap as both your eyes slid shut. Her lips were better than you thought they would have been, soft and smooth against yours. There was a small spark that had ignited when you connected your lips to hers, a small fire that had started and that only spread as you tangled your fingers in her braid as you moulded your body to hers, trying to close every gap between you and her. Hermione seemed to share this thought as she gripped at your jumper, one hand on the back of your neck as she pulled you to her.

“I like you too.” You said when you both pulled away for a breath. You bit your lip lightly as you panted, trying to even your breath.

Hermione’s eyes darted to your slightly swollen lips once more and she laughed slightly, “That was the best way to tell me.”

You smirked slightly, pecking her lips before you grabbed her hand, “Come on, we have to get back to our dormitory before Filch finds us. We can talk later.”

Hermione nodded, seeming shocked as she rose a hand to her lips, a soft smile on her face. You blushed as you tugged on her hand, pulling her out of the Room of Requirement.

Hot For Teacher

Authors note:It’s another long one *smut*

Finally, the best lesson of the day. Well, only because of your teacher, Mr Choi Minho. He taught physical education in your school and you were blessed enough to have it three times a week. Sometimes, if you were really lucky, you’d catch a glimpse of the waist band of his boxers or his abs whilst he was moving; he was sex on legs and all the girls were head over heels for him, including you.

It was hard to run during cross country as Mr Minho made your legs feel like jelly, wobbly and unstable. Enthusiastically, he was jumping up and down, cheering everyone on and encouraging them to keep running. It was embarrassing, seeing as you weren’t the most athletic in the group. You were sure that out of all the girls in the class, he wouldn’t fancy you but he seemed to like you, always giving you a warm smile and a pat on the back, his stunning warm eyes glistening as he praised you on your hard work. No matter what, you always tried to do your best and he could see that.

As you were running, you were thinking that maybe it would impress him if you tried to get more fit. Not that you thought you needed to be skinnier as you were happy at the size you were but you had to admit you could be a tad healthier. Mr Minho always said that anyone was welcome to come to him if they had a problem or a question. When it came to fitness, you had no clue where to start and perhaps, if you came to his office, he could help you. Perhaps he’d praise you on your willingness to do extra work and so, after running, you took a big drink of water for hydration and headed to Mr Minho’s office.

Confidently, you strutted in to his office; too confidently. He was peeling off his wet shirt, revealing his stunning, athletic body; your jaw dropped to the floor. You knew you should have knocked. 

“Oh. I’m sorry Mr Minho. I..I’ll come back later..”

 You stumbled on your words, not being able to take your eyes him; they were stuck to him like super glue. 

“No no, it’s okay. Please, take a seat.”

 He gestured to the chair across from his desk in a casual manor. Awkwardly, you took a seat and waited for your P.E teacher to finish patting himself down with a towel. He looked stunning, like a god. You forgot what you even wanted to say to him as he made your brain cells go all blurry. With that charming smile, he sat down across you and rested his muscular arms on the wooden desk. 

“What can I do for you (Y/N)?” 

He questioned kindly, like he sincerely wanted to listen to you. 

“Well um..I um…I was interested in wanting to get fitter but I don’t know where to start..what to work on first..” 

You tried to explain properly but you just couldn’t. Every time you looked in to his eyes, you lost all trail of thought. 


 He chuckled, making your heart race and your palms get sweatier by the minute. 

“Well, what do you feel you need work on?”

 He asked as he got up and sat on the desk, closer to you. His sensual presence made it difficult to breathe.

 “Um..maybe my stomach?”

 Mr Minho frowned at your statement. 

“I think you have a beautiful body (Y/N).”

 ‘Oh no’ you thought as you felt your face heat up like a fire with your cheeks turning bright red no doubt.

 “Thank you but, I wish I had a body like yours, Sir.”

 It was brave of you to say but it was true; he was so fit that it hurt. Surprisingly, he hopped off the table, showing you his full body again.

 “Like this?”

 He questioned. Accidentally biting your lip in lust, you nodded. Gently, he took your hand in his and began to run your hand down his built frame. Your knees began to feel weak, your mouth went dry as a desert and you even had to squeeze your legs closed from the excitement you felt between them.

 “So you want your stomach to feel like this?” 

His question just seemed like a faint mumble as all you could concentrate on was the feel of his six pack. Gulping, you nodded your head, staring at his stomach.

 “Stand up (Y/N).”

 He instructed before going over to the office door and locking it. The sound of it locking echoed in your ears, bringing the déjà vu of your dreams. You couldn’t believe what was happening even though you wanted something to happen so desperately. Standing up, you allowed him to examine your figure from head to toe. His eyes on you felt incredible, like he was touching you without even moving.

 “Can I take a look?” 

He questioned, his hands holding the bottom of your gym shirt. Your heart was pounding faster than it was while you were running. 


 You replied, even though you were nervous as hell to show him your body but you lifted up your arms and allowed him to slowly remove your top.

Before him, you stood in your bra and let him trace the outline the curves of your breasts and hips. It felt so good; it was beyond anything you’d felt before. 

“(Y/N), your body is perfect. I don’t know why you’d want to change it.”

 His words felt like heaven to your ears; you felt like a princess.

 “I wanted to change for you Sir, so you’d like me.” 

You uttered, going shy. 


He said softly, tilting your chin up so you looked in to his chocolate eyes. 

“I like you just the way you are (Y/N). You’re the prettiest girl in the school.”

 “I am?” 

You questioned in absolute amazement. Mr Minho nodded and let out a seductive chuckle. Your heart thumped against your chest as the two of you moved in to kiss. His plump lips were the best you’d ever had, smooth like silk. On the teacher’s chair, he sat back and allowed you straddle his lap. Feeling like a diva, you grinded against his hard on, kissing him roughly and let the sexual frustration you’d felt since forever go out of the window. You were glad he was already topless as you enjoyed feeling his pecks he kissed your neck, making you breathless. 

“Oh Sir! That feels so good.”

 You groaned against his shoulder. Minho’s lips made their way down to your bare chest then on top of your bra. Making every second last longer, he took his time un-clipping each hook on your bra. It was like it fell down on to the floor and released your breasts in slow motion. Instantly, his hot lips were kissing, biting and sucking your sensitive nipples. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to refrain from moaning so loud. 

“Your breasts are perfect too. Is there anything on you that isn’t flawless (Y/N)?”

 He asked between your breasts. It was impossible to stop whimpering in pleasure as he rolled his wet tongue around your nipples like they tasted of cherries.  

“Stand up baby and show me that butt.”

 Smirking, you climbed off him and turned around. Teasing him, you took your sweet time pulling down your shorts and panties, revealing your behind. “Wow.” You heard him whisper.

Suddenly, you felt a harsh slap against your butt cheek. At first it hurt, but, to your surprise, the pain began to melt in to pleasure. The next thing you knew, you were bent over the table with your butt in the air and Minho’s tongue in your pussy.

 “Oh my god!”

 You cried out. Minho’s tongue licked up every drop of juice in and around your pussy and he was hungry like an animal for more. 

“You taste amazing (Y/N). I could diet on this.”

 You were limp; a moaning and whimpering mess. He was driving you crazy and the only thing that could satisfy the sex demon living within you was Mr Minho’s cock. Going out of your mind, you got on your knees before the delicious teacher and yanked his grey sweat pants and black Calvin Klein boxers down to his feet. The sex god’s cock stood up, erect in the air in front of you and you eyed it like a tiger stalking its prey. Hot for teacher, you took his manhood in your mouth. Firstly, you warmed him up by just sucking on the end, then, with your eyes on his face, you took him further and further in until he hit the back of your throat. The sound of his deep, husky groans were so hot that it only encouraged you to do more. As you sucked him, you played with his balls; that drove him wild like a lion in the jungle. 

“Yes baby. Just like that.” 

He panted, his hands grabbing chunks of your hair. The tension was white hot. The room was murky with the invisible steam the two of you were creating.

Mr Choi Minho grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your feet. Dominantly, he grabbed your neck and crushed his lips on yours, claiming your mouth as his.

 “What do you want (Y/N)?”

 He growled, his eyes burning with lust.

 “Fuck me, please.” 

You begged; you meant it. With the sexiest smirk to exist, he pushed down on to the desk and yanked your legs apart.

 “How bad do you want it?”

 He teased more. Your body was so full of adrenaline; you felt like you could erupt like a volcano.

 “Just fuck me already!”

 You cried, throwing your head back in frustration. He chuckled at how horny you were and in one harsh thrust, he entered your incredibly wet pussy. The both of you moaned in sync. You’d waited for that moment all of your school days.

 “Show me what physical education is Sir.”

 You panted as he fucked you like a porn star. He knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. Minho bit his lip, letting his hips do the work. So excited, you met his movements. Minho went so deep; he was stretching you to the extremes. 

“Tell me how you want it baby.”

 The teacher had always been so keen to help you to the finish line.


 You cried, not caring if the whole school heard you. The desk began to creak as he began to pound you mercilessly with the biggest, most beautiful cock you’d ever laid your eyes on. Your body felt empty when he pulled out of you. Minho sat back down on the teacher’s chair and beckoned you to come to him. Thirsty for more of him, you eased yourself down on his manhood and took him as deep as you could, moaning as he entered your body once more. Losing all self-consciousness, you rode him like a cowgirl; you were so glad you came in to his office.

 “Please don’t stop.”

 You begged as you were coming closer to your orgasm. The juices from your pussy began to leak down on to Minho’s balls, bringing him on the brink of exploding too. With your sharp nails, you dug in to Minho’s shoulders as the energy that had been building up finally burst like a balloon.

 “Fuck! Oh my god! I’m coming Sir!” 

You screeched with pleasure, throwing your head back. Minho squeezed your ass with his strong hands. “That’s right babe, cum for me!” He roared. When your orgasm finished, he bent you over the desk for the last time and fucked you hard, making your tight pussy squeeze around his length.

 “Oh my god (Y/N)! I need to..”

 Quickly, he pulled out of your pussy and released his warm, sticky seed on your butt.


 He panted heavily, his toned chest rising and falling as his lungs began to work double time. Minho sat on the desk to get his breath back. You didn’t know how to feel but you certainly felt fitter. You squeaked when he lifted you up and placed you his lap but you soon felt comfortable there, nuzzling your head between the crook of his neck and his shoulder. His body was cosy and warm like a blanket.

 “Feel better about yourself?”

 He asked sweetly.

 “Uh huh.”

 You replied, nodding your head. 

“Good because you always impress me. You’re beautiful and will be at any size.” 

Cuddling him, you wondered if you’d ever do it again. 

“Is this just a one-time thing?”

 You questioned curiously, softly running your fingers over his impressive torso. Minho chuckled, sending the butterflies in your stomach in to a frenzy. “Monday. Meet me in here.” Monday; the next time you had physical education. 

“Okay Sir.”

Best Buds Part 5

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Words: 3510

Warnings: Smut, semi-public stuff, oral, unprotected sex (please cover your diddle before you fiddle her middle), uh oh.

Note: UHG I apologize for saying this would come out like a million times and then not following through. But here is it… honestly I had no motivation to write this so I’m sorry if it sucks. This series will be ending with Part 6 or 7.

I love when these beautiful souls read my shit: @divinitycas @honeebeecas @faith-in-dean @abaddonwithyall @ilostmyshoe-79 @aprofoundbondwithdean @bovaria @mrsjohnsmith @mysupernaturalfics @bkwrm523 @feelmyroarrrr @ami212 @slowlywithfreedom @winchesterprincessbride @teamfreewilllovesyou @grace-for-sale

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Originally posted by flufflybunnypants

Charlie ended up staying around for a few days. It was crowded and there were too many pairs of ears in the bunker especially when Castiel would come to visit. So you told Dean you’d thought it’d be best not to fool around in the bunker for a few days. Sneaking around was fun but you didn’t want to risk the whole pact going to shit if someone caught you. That meant no sex for you or Dean for the week. As much of a struggle it was for you not to get laid, it was entertaining to watch a sexually frustrated Dean try and solve a case. Dean could have easily picked up any girl from the bar or taken you to a motel but Sam had kept all of you busy with back-to-back hunts.

After Charlie left, Sam had found a case in Iowa where a family had a vengeful ghost living in their attic. One quick salt and burn later and the woman was asking to take the three of you out to dinner with her wife as a thank you. It was completely out of character to accept this kind of gesture but it had been a million years since you had been to a fancy restaurant and you could tell Sam and Dean were drooling at the mouth from thought of prime rib and lobster.

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Weaving a silk replica of a Broché for Marie Antoinette’s chair…

The Reason He Won't Give Up

Alec was not one to hesitate in anything he did. This could be proven in his professional life with little effort required to recollect. He was always the one to make the hard decisions, he never thought twice in battle, and he’d proposed to his fiancée within the first few days of meeting her. However, he found that in regards to personal issues, he was none too sure. Like now, for instance. His sister was about to be on trial for treason. She was in desperate need of representation, and he knew just the person to help get her acquitted, was standing outside the door of his apartment right now. Time was of the essence, but for some reason, all he could think about was whether his sleeves should be pushed up or not.

He decided to pull down his sleeves and raised his fist to knock on the door, strong and clear against the cherry wood finish.

“Coming!” Called out a sultry voice that made his heart lurch momentarily. He tried not to think about how tired the man sounded, focusing instead on the gold-plated doorknob. It soon twisted open to reveal a stunning man, eyes smudged with thick black liner and a blank expression that quickly turned sour.

“Alexander.” He said sharply, his magnificent brown eyes narrowing. “Oddly enough, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you anytime soon.”

Alec let out the nervous breath he’d been holding. “Magnus. I need your help.”

A mocking smirk made its way across the warlock’s lips. “Yes, that would be the case, wouldn’t it? All you shadowhunters come crawling to me whenever you get yourselves into bad situations.”

“We do not–” Alec began, but Magnus cut him off.

“Take this as an example, dear boy: Isabelle gives top secret nephilim information to a Seelie and suddenly I am called upon to clean up her mess.” He waved his hand about dismissively, indicating that this problem was not the reason he was acting less than civil.

Alec’s lips pursed. “How did you know about that?”

“Word travels fast.” Magnus replied vaguely. “Faster if you are a high warlock.”

“Alright, fine. I don’t care how you found out. I just need to know if you’re willing to give this a shot.” Alec crossed his arms over his chest. Magnus sighed dramatically, turning away from the door and grabbing a drink from where he’d set it down to answer the door. Alec stared into the martini glass, intrigued by the quality of the liquid. It looked as if Magnus had purchased a tube of orange glitter glue from the craft store and squeezed its contents into the cup.

Alec took his retreat into the loft as an invitation to enter, which is just what he did, following the warlock into his sitting area and hearing the door slam closed behind him with a wave of Magnus’s hand.

“Just name your price, and I promise to pay it. I’ll do anything to keep Izzy from being exiled.” Alec pushed up his sleeves, drawing the other man’s attention to the way that his stark black soundless rune jumped out on the skin of his bulging forearm.

Magnus scoffed. “My price.” He repeated, whirling around to look the taller man in the eye. “The Clave is against her. As far as I’m aware, they have always been the ones who’ve paid for my services. What could you and your gang of misfits possibly have to offer me?”

Alec opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it. He couldn’t argue that he had nothing terribly valuable to his name.

“The only one of you that has any connection to the level of payment I would require is that vampire boy, Samuel.” Magnus continued, and Alec had to hold back a sneer at the remark. “And last I checked, he wasn’t too far up on the social pyramid over at Hotel Dumort.”

Unlike your ex girlfriend, Alec thought, surprised by how bitter this fact made him. He shook the irritation off as he watched Magnus sink down into a plush blue chair, regaining focus on his mission. “Magnus, you know that I would do anything for my family.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” He quipped, taking a delicate sip of his mystery concoction.
Alec set his jaw. He knew what this was about, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t known that convincing Magnus would be difficult. “I will do anything you ask in order to repay this favor.”

Magnus straightened, eyes cutting into Alec with an unexpected intensity. “Careful what you say, shadowhunter. I’ve warned your friend Clary not to trust me. I would advise you to do the same.”

“Why shouldn’t I trust you?” Alec was perplexed. “You’ve done everything asked of you in return for proper compensation.”

Magnus cocked an eyebrow. “Alexander, please. We both know what’s going to happen now.”

Alec gave him an exasperated look. “What?”

Magnus swirled his pinkie around in his drink, glaring up at the young man. “I’m going to help Isabelle free of charge, because I rather like her. Do you know why else?”

Alec ground his teeth together, shutting his eyes for almost a full minute. “Yes.”

“I don’t believe you do, Alexander.” Magnus sat forward in his chair, silk rustling against velvet as his shirt slid across the fabric with him. His voice could cut through steel. “Have you seen the way I look at you? I’m not being very subtle in my advances, mind you.”

Alec swallowed, considering what to say next. His mouth did not wait for him to catch up, however. He found himself replying with something he hadn’t said out loud and had never expected to.

“Magnus, I may not be the densest person around, but I am the most inexperienced. I’m not used to people…” He tried to sort out a way to keep his next words from sounding conceited. “…flirting…with me, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“My god, he has caught on.” Magnus joked, but Alec had no time to appreciate jokes. He had a sister to save, a parabatai and to find, and a little girl to deal with. That was what he should be focused on, not on the way his name rolled off of this man’s tongue or the slender grip of his fingers on the stem of his glass.

“Magnus, about the marr—”

“Hold on, Alexander,” Magnus held up a finger, his brow furrowing, seemingly piecing something together. “When you say inexperienced, what exactly are you implying?”

“I’ll let you sort that one out on your own, thank you.” Alec was in no mood to be discussing his love life–or mortifying lack thereof.

“Never had sex?” Magnus probed.
Alec folded his arms and shook his head so slightly that Magnus almost didn’t catch it.

“Never dated?” Now Magnus was thoroughly intrigued. How had a boy like this remained untouched?

“No.” Alec growled. “You know about Jace, everyone seems to know now, and he came to live with us when I was twelve. Connect the dots from there.”

“Could it be…” Magnus dared not speak it, a dark, giddy smile crossing his face at the notion. “It couldn’t be. Alexander, have you never been ki–”

Alec yanked a hand through his hair, interrupting the humiliating (but true) accusation about to leave Magnus’s lips. “Enough with the twenty questions already! I admit it, okay? I have less experience than Max, for Raziel’s sake! Is that what you wanted to hear me say!?”

Magnus did nothing to disguise the pure glee this fact gave him. “Actually, yes. Thank you, Alexander.” He took a long swig from his martini glass. “This is quite valuable information indeed.”

“Alright, can we stop talking about it? Please?” He begged, never wanting to look Magnus in the eye ever again.

“Absolutely not.” Magnus chided, eliciting a frustrated groan from the shadowhunter. “Tell me, does your fiancée happen to be clued in to this little secret of yours?”

“No. No, Lydia doesn’t know. And to be perfectly frank, I’m not too keen on giving up my first kiss at the altar, but this is the decision I’ve made, and I can’t back out now.” Alec found that the words once again tumbled out without a filter, feeling as helpless to his body’s expungement as one did when vomiting.

The hard stare returned to Magnus’s face at the mention of marriage. Alec hesitated, but only for a second, before more uncontrolled thoughts bursted forth out into the open.

“I know how I’ll pay you for helping my sister.” He declared.

Magnus raised his eyebrows, pushing himself from his chair to stand right in front of Alec. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He nodded, more enthusiastically than he felt, body seemingly decided on its next course of action despite the screams of confusion and protest from his brain.

Alec shakily teetered forward on his usually steady legs. He didn’t even think for once, just did, just stooped down with closed eyes and lightly pressed a kiss to the warlock’s lips, startled by the bumping of their noses and pulling back just as soon as he’d made contact.
They’re’d been a brief roaring in his ears, a tingling, a something, but he was certainly not brave enough to dive in deeper to explore the sensations.

“I-Izzy needs you.” He blurted out, instantly regretting saying his sister’s name right after his first kiss. He attempted to correct this blunder by adding, “I mean, what I meant was, um…I need you.” But that felt worse, too embarrassing, too corny. He grimaced. Why did he even say that?!

Admitting his dependency on Magnus was a whole ‘nother issue in and of itself. He’d never relied on anyone but himself, let alone told them if he had. Who was this Magnus Bane, this magical creature who spoke nary a spell nor snapped his fingers, yet managed to turn the young man into a stuttering mess with just one glance? Something in him was desperate to find out—yet he still suspected an enchantment was to blame.

Magnus had been staring, watching the shell-shocked nephilim mull over what he’d just done in his mind. When his gaze snapped up from the floor, his eyes met ones that glowed hazel, strangely similar to his own, the result of a slow magical transformation from brown to yellow. Right as he saw the blown pupils pulling into thin slits he straightened up, held his shoulders higher than he ever had before. He was back to business, covering up the stammering little boy inside with a warrior’s stance and sharp features.

“I’ll inform Izzy of your cooperation and contact you tomorrow. I trust that you’ll be able to formulate a rough draft of an argument by then?”

Magnus nodded slowly, taken aback by Alec’s ability to turn this soldier attitude of his on and off like a light switch. “Need you even ask?” He retorted with a mischievous glint in his cat’s eyes.

Alec smirked, and goddamn if it wasn’t the best thing Magnus had seen all day. “Of course not. Good day, Magnus.” And “good day” sounded much more hopeful to him than “goodbye”.

Once Alec had exited Magnus’s apartment, however, all the bravado vanished. He slumped against the door and, with a small, cracked voice, exhaled, “By the Angel.”

He’d been so distracted by his own awkwardness that he didn’t even notice how Magnus had reacted when Alec had kissed him. If he had to guess, he would’ve thought something along the lines of horrified or violated, but those descriptions were as far from the other man’s feelings as words could get. He would soon find this out. If Magnus’s muttered curse and surprised chuckle once the shadowhunter had left were any indication, he’d have known that there was no way Magnus would ever say “goodbye” so easily again.

I worked really hard to finish this before tomorrow night’s episode, which is a feat considering how finals week is kicking my ass right now. Please rate/give me feedback :)
Yes I do take requests. I’m a fanfic hoe now ok.


I put Ophelia down on the set. She crawled onto the table, destroyed the tea party setup, fell off the other end leaving behind a trail of mayhem and silk, then calmly walked over to the sewing setup and gently placed her foot on the chair.

Okay, I get it. You don’t want tea, you want to sew. I swear it’s like having a toddler. But with eight legs.

A journey to the riverกุ้งพล่า, or a deliciously healthy Spicy River Prawn Salad with Thai herbs like lemongrass, sliced red shallots, coriander and chilli [More from A Journey To The River] [More Bangkok]

Featuring in the background: Bitter gourd with mackerel, and the famous Poo Pad Pong Karee, or Stir Fried Crab with spring onions in yellow curry powder

Light filtered in through the wooden slats as the cool breeze from the river played across the sparkling late afternoon water. A sense of quiet broken by the rewarding sense of excitement as the special, very regional dish, กุ้งพล่า, appeared before us in all it’s daring red spiciness. And as we shared the food out and bit into the springy river prawn meat immersed in fiery lemongrass fragrance, the natural sunlight streaming in on the tight aluminium tables, I felt a sense of wonder at the simplicity of happiness. Somewhere beyond the world of carpeted floors and velvet chairs, beyond silk tablecloths and silver cutlery, there exists a world where food comes out not in courses but on the shoulders of waiters serving numerous dishes with a casual alacrity. There exists a world where atmosphere is found in the lack of decoration rather than the abundance of it. It’s a world where laughter tastes just as good as food, where the right people all sit with you and take pleasure in straightforward simplicity. 


Dead Flowers- Townes Van Zandt, Sunshine Boy Sessions

Well when you’re sitting there in your silk upholstered chair 
Talkin’ to some rich folk that you know 
Well I hope you won’t see me in my ragged company 
Well, you know I could never be alone 

Take me down little Susie, take me down 
I know you think you’re the queen of the underground 
And you can send me dead flowers every morning 
Send me dead flowers by the mail 
Send me dead flowers to my wedding 
And I won’t forget to put roses on your grave 

Well when you’re sitting back in your rose pink Cadillac 
Making bets on Kentucky Derby Day 
Ah, I’ll be in my basement room with a needle and a spoon 
And another girl to take my pain away 

Take me down little Susie, take me down 
I know you think you’re the queen of the underground 
And you can send me dead flowers every morning 
Send me dead flowers by the mail 
Send me dead flowers to my wedding 
And I won’t forget to put roses on your grave 

Take me down little Susie, take me down 
I know you think you’re the queen of the underground 
And you can send me dead flowers every morning 
Send me dead flowers by the U.S. Mail 
Say it with dead flowers in my wedding 
And I won’t forget to put roses on your grave 
No, I won’t forget to put roses on your grave


He didn’t know how people did this day in day out.
Fluxx’s mind wandered as the receptionist droned on and on about the company policies, the dinner breaks, yadda yadda yadda. Work had been so slow lately he’d had to take up a normal job, interviews had been easy, but a shirt and tie had never felt so stifling to him. Under a false name of John Doe (how could people really be so stupid as to not notice that?) he had found a place at a small company, the typical 9-5 as it were, processing papers, handling memos, what he assumed to be an average humdrum office job for an average transport firm in the big city.

After being freed from the purgatory of the induction, he wandered to his desk and slumped into his chair, black silk crumpling as he hunched over his desk and opened up his email account, trying not to notice that the desk directly opposite his was very much occupied.