that pointer finger

It was a joke, baby. I swear

Request: 41,46,or 63. Whichever you’re more comfortable with :))

Could you do #46 with Peter Parker? ps all ur writing is bomb af

Summary: Peter pulls a prank on you and you threaten to kick his ass.

A/N: SO I COMBINED #41 AND #46 OFF THE DRABBLE CHALLENGE. HOPEFULLY IT TURNS OUT GOOD.

Part 2

Originally posted by jessikaort


You gasp at the sight in front of you. Looking back at you through your mirror was yourself, but not exactly. You had just gotten out of the shower, and once you walked by the mirror, something a little blue had caught your eye. You went into the shower with y/h/c hair, and now you’ve come out with royal blue hair. You took deep breathes as you lifted some parts of hair from your scalp to see that all of it really was blue. Some strands were a more faint blue than others. 

Meanwhile, Peter was sitting on your living room couch, giddy with anticipation. You didn’t know it yet, but he was the one who had put the blue dye in your shampoo. It was semi-permanent, he figured it’d be a funny little prank. He impatiently waited to hear something from you, knowing your reaction wouldn’t be subtle. He had heard the shower turn off, “Hows it going in there y/n?” Peter called to you.

It all clicked to you now. Peter was the one who had ruined your hair. Of course it was him. Blue hair to match his red and blue suit. “Peter Parker, I’m gonna kill you!” you screeched as you bolted into your room throwing on two pieces of clothing that were the first items you saw, a pair of underwear and Peters hoodie that you “borrowed”. With your wet blue hair, you marched out to the living room where Peter was laying, laughing uncontrollably. His eyes ran up and down your body and rested on your hair, “Well you look, amazing,” he told you, attempting to stop his snickering. 

“You think this is funny, Parker?” You grumbled, breathing heavily. 

“No, no not at all, I’m sorry. I think it’s hilarious,” He knew you meant war when you said his last name, but he couldn’t help but give himself a small pat on the back at his clever prank.

You groaned at his comment and began to advance towards him. Peter was taking no chances, knowing you were currently wild. So he flexed his arm out, and from his wrist shot out a web that pinned your fist to the bookshelf behind you. Looking at your hand that was covered in a sticky substance, your jaw dropped and features turned to a bewildered look. Oh he did not. You yanked and pulled at your hand, but it wasn’t escaping anytime soon.

“Look just calm down,” he tried to reason, with a wide smile on his face, “wait, is that my sweater?” he asked you in a higher, curious tone of voice. He cocked an eyebrow, as he studied the article of clothing. But because he was a teenage boy, his eyes became glued to your naked legs. He was quite enjoying your outfit, 

“Don’t try to change the subject Peter. What did you do to my hair?” you demanded, ignoring his burning gaze,

It was just a joke, baby. I swear.” He said, taking slow steps towards you,

 “You think it’s funny that I get to match your stupid onesie now?!”

“Ugh, it’s not a onesie,” he whined, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger, “babe, I’m sorry-”

Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!” you interrupted him, yanking at your hand once again. 

“I’m not letting you out of that till you calm down y/n,” Peter told you, gazing down to webbing. 

“I’m not going to calm down, my hair is blue!”

He sighed, and tilted his head to the side. He began walking towards you again. Once he was within arms reach of you, you brought up the hand that wasn’t pinned down, and swung it at Peters chest. He caught it before it could hit him, and he pressed his body against yours. Trapping you completely, in the corner between the wall and the bookshelf. You tried taking back the hand that he had a hold of, but he held it tightly and closely to his chest. You grabbed a fist full of his grey shirt, and attempted to push him away, but he wasn’t budging. 

Peter lowered his forehead to yours, knowing your wild mood was slowly fading. He knew what he was doing, and he knew the effect he had on your body. “Stop it. I’m mad at you,” you spoke to him sternly, determined to keep your fuming attitude, to prove a point to him. “No, you’re not,” he persuaded you with a smile.

“Yes, I am. Look at my hair!” You argued not looking him in the eye. Again you tried shoving him away, but it was hardly worth trying, without control over either of your arms.

“There’s nothing wrong with your hair. It’s perfect,” he whispered to you. You stopped struggling against him, and decided your best bet now was to give him the silent treatment. Moving your head to the side, you didn’t give him any attention and took your forehead away from his. Shortly after, you felt a pair of soft lips press themselves to your temple. You closed your eyes at excitement of butterflies attacking your stomach. Peters lips pecked a trail of kisses down the side of your face, “I’m sorry,” he muttered in between every one of them. Leisurely, he brought them down to your exposed neck. Sticking to your plan of the silent treatment, you didn’t protest. 

“Please-forgiveme-I’msorry,” he repeated every time his lips left your neck and reconnected them. 

“I hate you,” you whispered, just barely audible for him. Peter smiled against your neck and placed his forehead back against yours, “What was that?” he asked teasingly with a grin. You tried so hard to keep a smile from taking over your lips, but you failed trying, “I hate you,” you said louder to him.

He shook his head with a smile, “No you don’t,” he declared with a laugh. You just nodded your head in response, letting out a laugh also.

“Nice sweater by the way,” he said to you, “mind telling me where you got it?”

Spell For Ending Crushes.

We’ve all had a crush on someone we shouldn’t, or maybe a crush we’ve wanted to get over quickly.

Here’s a little easy spell to help.

Ingredients.
- Water. (Moon or Sun Water is preferable but any kind will do.)
- That’s it. I said it was easy.

Steps
1. Fill a glass with the water of choice and take it and go and sit quietly.
2. Put the pointer finger of your preferred hand in the water, while holding the glass with that hand.
3. Chant:
“ End this flame, end this plight, make my heart be not alight.”
4. Imagine the water flowing up through your finger and washing through you, extinguishing the flame you had for your crush.
5. Dispose of the water outside.


There! I hope it helps you get over any stubborn crushes

After Hours [m]

pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi, angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha

word count: 16,212

warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language

a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups​ because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”

You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”

Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

Guardian Candles (an original spell)

This is a candle for you to light whenever you are worried for someone. When lit, it will send them positive energy, protection, or whatever your intent behind it states.

Tools:

  • a candle
  • healing oil of your choice
  • incense


Method:

  1. Take a candle that reminds you of the person you want to bind it to. It can be anything from their favorite color to one they chose themselves.
  2. Light your incense. Let the scent fill you with calmness as you channel your intent into the candle. Take your oil (I use lavender or chamomile) and anoint the candle by tracing the first letter of their name onto the wax with the pointer finger of your dominant hand. Keep an image of the person in your mind. This oil will provide them with healing. 
  3. Hold the candle over the smoke from your incense, turning it a few times to cover it completely. This will help to bless the candle, the smoke acting as a shroud around the person you are binding it to, to protect them from negative energy. While doing this, recite the incantation:


“Candle guide them,

Goddess guard them

Keep them in your sights.

Spirits lift them

Ancients teach them

Surround them with your light.”

(not my gif)

Hey I want to preface this by saying I’m a good person and I don’t deserve this

Yesterday I made chicken tortilla soup because I thought that would be fun and I cut up a jalapeno for it

  • BY THE BY I’ve been eating jalapenos my whole life I guess I’ve just never??? Cut up a raw jalapeno before????
  • The whole story occurred after midnight on a fucking Tuesday (I guess Wednesday morning)

My left thumb and pointer finger started stinging like all hell like at first I thought I could ignore it but it just kept on burning. My first instinct was to dunk my hand in a cup of milk and that is exactly what I did

But when I took my hand out of the milk it was still on fire so I googled my situation and LET ME TELL YOU GUYS this is a WELL KNOWN mistake known as “hot pepper hands” and it is exactly what it sounds like

  • Things that are supposedly remedies for hot pepper hands:
  • (I say supposedly because, spoiler, none of them worked for me)
  • Make baking soda/water paste, put on hands, let dry, 
  • Wash with Dawn or other dishsoap that is better at cutting through oils
  • Scrub with olive oil and THEN Dawn
    • This one actually managed to spread the pain to most of the rest of my left hand, leaving only my pinky finger safe from the burning fires of hell
  • and THEN there is one SOLUTIONwhich says you should put your hand in hot water to “open your pores” to “let the poison out” or whatever and THEN scrub with olive oil and wash
    • everyone that gave this as a solution noted that putting your hand in hot water while it’s being eaten away with acid is super painful but they’re all just like “it’s for the greater good, good luck!”
    • so I’m like…

AND THEN I DUNK MY HAND IN A BOWL OF HOT WATER AND I SCREEEEEEEEEEAM

and i hold it in the hot water for a full minute

    • IT DOESN’T WORK
    • I DO IT A SECOND TIME
    • S C R E E E E A M 
      • (my roommate was very concerned at the scream and at being asked to pour olive oil on my hand since it’s hard to maneuver around the kitchen one-handed, trying not to poison any surface with the poison of a thousand suns)
      • literally it was like that scene in fight club with the lye and ed norton just having to watch his hand sizzle
  • Anyway
    • It 
    • doesn’t
    • work
  • Another “solution” to the problem was phrased like this:
    • wear gloves, idiot
    • thanks
    • thank you

My hands are still burning but I’m like jesus h motherfuck it is 2 AM i will just try to sleep and suffer but 10 minutes later I think I am about to just die like this is it, a single jalapeno is going to consume my flesh, starting with my left hand and eventually reaching my heart

    • gotta give it to the jalapenos they are fighters 
    • didn’t think they were dangerous! but they are
    • wear gloves idiot

So I went to the fridge and put a bunch of ice cubes in a bag and I just held it in my hand and fell asleep like that, like with a little ice pack teddy bear giving me blissful relieving numbness

Ice is a fucking blessing and don’t you forget it, humankind’s greatest achievement is inventing a machine that will allow us, with some foresight, to have ice on hand whenever the fuck we need it I mean do you realize how amazing that is???? To have a freezer???? To have air conditioning!!!!!

So the icepack melted and my hand was still burning at 4am which is when I woke up from the pain and went to make myself another ice pack. Hours later the ice pack had melted again and my hand felt way WAY better but my pillow was soaked. Doesn’t matter it was a fucking relief to wake up and realize my hand had not been melted by acid.

tldr: never cut a hot pepper with your bare hands!!!!

The one where Y/N loves Harry’s mouth, and he loves eating her out. 

i.

She was frustrated.

All day, her mind had been tortured with thoughts of him that did exceedingly well to get her panties wet, and heart hammering against her chest. Starting from when she woke up alone this morning, she’d felt a need for him. He’d left early because of meetings, and she had to go to work. She was slightly grumpy and frustrated that she didn’t get to have him that morning. Carried a pouty lip to work with her. The thoughts followed her—haunted her—she felt like. She couldn’t focus her mind on anything else - mental images of Harry’s mouth grazing her neck while his fingers worked on her clit, or how dark his eyes would get when he stared up at her with his tongue licking stripes all over her heat, distracting her from everything she had to get done.

So, when she gets home, she’s quick to run to him and press her lips against his soft ones. God, she loves his lips, they’re so good. 

Keep reading

The first time was when he woke up, the sun streaming in through a crack between the curtains, Derek’s breathing soft and even next to him. 

This can’t be real, Stiles thought. This life, this happiness, it can’t be real.

He started panicking. Derek woke up and pulled Stiles against his chest. Together they counted, first Stiles’ fingers, then Derek’s. Derek smiled and shook his head when Stiles told him it was because he couldn’t believe how happy he was.

Sometimes he still needs that reassurance, that after all the shit they’ve gone through, after all the shit he’s done, he gets to be happy. And over time, it even becomes a small gesture, for both him and Derek, to show the other how happy they are. So he counts his fingers when he slides under the covers next to Derek, counts them when they’re watching television, counts them any time he realizes he’s truly, ridiculously happy.

He’s sitting at the kitchen counter, willing the coffee machine to go faster, at seven am on a Sunday morning. It would be terrible if not for Derek’s humming drifting through the house as he makes the bed, and the pitter-patter of small feet racing towards the kitchen.

Lily climbs into his lap, and he leans back to accommodate her. 

‘Are we counting?’ she asks, pointing at his hands, lying palms down on the kitchen counter.

‘You want to count together?’ he asks.

Lily nods and bends over his left hand. She press her little pointer finger against his pinkie and says, ‘One.’

When they get to ten, she turns to him with a brilliant smile, presses a kiss against his cheek, and slides off his lap.

‘Love you, daddy!’ she yells, disappearing into the hallway. You’d think it was a small elephant and not a five year-old pounding up the stairs.

‘Love you, too!’ he shouts after her.

The coffee is finally done and he pours himself and Derek cup. As he sets out breakfast, he privately counts his fingers again, a smile on his face.

To Realise

A mini celebration for 2000 followers! Thanks Everyone!!!!

A Soulmate AU where they only realise they are Soulmates when they say/read/hear each other’s names out loud followed by an immediate overflowing of emotion sparking inside of them. Instant realisation.

Yoosung:

-       He was already running late. This was not the first impression he wanted to give to everyone! He was in University! He was intelligent! He knew how to set a simple alarm!

-       … in theory yes, in practise… not so much… hence the lateness…

-       It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember which lecture theatre he was meant to be in- which meant he had to stop and scan for his name at each door on the floor… four down three to go…

-       Kim Yoosung… Kim Yoosung… Kim… nope not that room!

-       When he got to the final room (because of course it had to be the final room) he managed to find his name… but his eyes were mysteriously drawn to another name, his mouth wrapping itself around the syllables before he knew what he was doing…

-       “M… MC?”

-       His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, his knees went wobbly and his head felt light and fuzzy, yet so damn clear at the same time. Yoosung stilled himself, bracing his arms against the doorframe to insure he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

-       What was happening to him?

-       He had never felt this way before- was he coming down with something? He touched the back of his hand against his forehead and sure enough he was warm and sweaty.

-       Though, granted, it could have been because he had been running for the last fifteen minutes and trying not to burst out crying because he was going to be late- not because he was sick and dying.

-       His stomach fluttered and his mouth ran dry… no, he must be getting sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that pizza that was left over… from three days ago. He really needed to start cooking more.

-       Yoosung clamped his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe deeply, he could get through this. It was only one hour. He could do this.

-       Opening the door, the newly blonde haired student waltzed into the theatre only to have the entire room turn to face him.

-       Great. He must have been later than he thought he was.

-       Only to have them all shrug and continue on with their conversations.

-       Yoosung turned to his left to where their professor was meant to be standing, only to see it empty- the teacher was late? He wasn’t the last one to class? Finally! He managed to catch a break!

-       Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair and laughing as he wiped his palm on his jeans, Yoosung shook his head at how stupid he was to worry so much… besides, chiding himself made it easier to forget the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins.

-       It wasn’t a bad sensation, just… different. Good. Like little bubbles of pure emotion streaming through his blood. Why he felt happy and excited and nervous all at the same time…  he didn’t know. Weirdest case of food poisoning he ever had that was for sure-

-       He began to scan the rows of seats for the easiest spot to slip into and found one close to the middle just on the aisle without anyone sitting in between him and the girl on the other side, the really pretty girl laughing with her friends…

-       Yoosung pressed his blunt nails into the flesh of his palm to wake himself up from his unintentional staring. He took in a bolstering breath and psyched himself up just so he could sit down, it’s not like the cute girl had noticed him or his existence or anything. It would be fine.

-       Edging into the chair and adjusting the fold up side table he began to unpack his books and pens, only for his latest guide for LOLOL to slip out from between his textbooks.

-       The girl next to him caught sight of the bright colours from the side of her eye and turned around, her eyes focused on the cover of the magazine before they shot up to look him in the eye.

-       She was stunning. And she looked disgusted with him.

-       “Tsk, another one of those computer geeks who do nothing but sit in their dark little apartments and fall in love with fictional characters,” she sneered as her friends cackled behind her… clearly none of them had grown up any since graduating from high school. Yoosung sighed and was about to shyly excuse himself when-

-       Yeah, that’s right! We sit in our apartments and fall in love with fictional characters who still have far more depth and strength of character in one pixel than you could ever have in your entire being… Girl- did you regress into your 7th grade form over the holidays after graduating- it’s cool if you did, I’d like to study you for my psychology lab- I’ll entitle it, ‘Dumb bitch, scared and out of her league, forgets how to act like a decent human being.’ Know what? Just leave- you’re not appreciated here- we wouldn’t want to infect you with our geekiness.”

-       Yoosung turned around to see a girl with big earphones and an even bigger hoodie sitting forward giving the first (not so cute anymore) girl the most menacing glare he had ever seen, bar the ones his mother wielded.

-       The group of girls huffed and tried to retort under their breaths before packing up and moving rows.

-       Headphones girl clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she made up her mind; she slung her cross-body bag over her shoulder as she clambered over the seats to sit next to Yoosung. The girl slightly winded from her almost-argument and her repositioning, offered the blonde boy a crooked grin- one he returned without hesitation.

-       “So… LOLOL boy- you gonna let me look at that guide? I was meaning to pick one up today after class but since you have one right here…” she eluded as she quirked one eyebrow up to test if he caught her drift. He did. He handed her the guide.

-       “H-hey… thanks for before… I didn’t know what I should say, if I should say anything at all-”

“No sweat LOLOL boy-”

“Hahah are you going to call me that forever?” he asked, laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck.

-       The girl eyed him critically from behind the pages of the guide.

“Pretty much, yes.”

Yoosung chuckled as he twirled his pen through the tips of his fingers, happy to feel the earlier wash of illness and emotion wane into nothing but a sense of peace and calm.

“Well, can I at least have a name to call you? Butt-Kicking Classmate is kind of a mouthful.”

“And yet so apt-”

“Yes I understand this but-”

-       “MC. My name is MC.”

The waning was nothing but the calm before the storm, the eye of the tornado- and Yoosung was the poor cow stuck up 1000 feet in the air and she… she was the tornado. The boy sat back as he burnt up, his cheeks flaring as he bit his lip to not shout out from the sheer heat that he endured. Why did this happen every time he heard her name? Or said her name? Or even thought of her name? It was infuriating!

“What should I call you if not LOL-”

“Yoosung. Kim… Kim Yoosung.”

-       He had heard a soft gasp from behind the pages of the guide and he didn’t miss the way her hands trembled, or how wide her eyes had become. Slowly but steadily, MC drew the magazine down past her chin until her entire face was visible to him… that fluttering in his stomach, that fuzzy but clear feeling- it all came rushing back one hundred-fold.

-       “Yoosung… Kim… you say?” she asked, her once confident voice all but whispered.

-       He had never heard his name sound so beautiful.

-       “Yes, Yoosung Kim…” he confirmed with the smallest of nods of his head, watching as she swallowed some saliva and captivated in the way her throat moved as she did so. He was entranced by the way her mouth seemed to want to do a thousand different things, smile, talk, laugh, scream… so damn expressive.

-       MC clicked her tongue once more as she was wont to do when she made an important decision and put the guide back down on his desk before leaning forward, completely invading his personal space. Not that he was complaining. In fact… she could invade it more. It didn’t seem close enough.

-       “Yoosung Kim… I’ve been looking for you, for a long time,” she smiled, her warm hand resting atop his, a flash of electricity passing through their touch.

“You have? Why? I’m just me, little old Yoosung…”

-       She threw her head back and laughed and to him it sounded like bells chiming.

-       “Yes, you are little old Yoosung, but from today - you are my little old Yoosung…” she pointed out as her pointer finger booped him firmly on the tip of his nose.

“Well if I’m yours, th-then you’re mine!” he answered his chest puffing out slightly- why had he said that? When did he become so damn brazen? Was he going crazy?

“Hahaha, duh! If you’re my Soulmate then I’m your Soulmate- so of course I’m yours!”

“….. Soul… soul what?”

-       His parents had never told him anything about Soulmates, didn’t prepare him for what was to come. He was hit by a truck and completely floored.

-       The truck was named MC. He didn’t want to get up.

-       “Care to explain?”

-       MC stared at him completely dumbfounded, her mouth agape and her eyes even wider than before. She inhaled and nodded, resigning herself to the fact that the love of her life was completely innocent and that she did indeed have to teach him everything.

-       It was going to be so much fun.

-       “You see when a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“MC I KNOW ABOUT SEX I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT SOULMATES!” he hissed loud enough for the two rows surrounding them to snigger at.

“Sex? Who said anything about sex? Geez, I say soulmate and you’re already trying to get into my pants-”

“MC!” he whined, his amethyst eyes large and pleading. Of course, she acquiesced.

-       “Forever Yoosung. It means that you and me, until death do us part, no matter what… it’s me and you.”

-       He took a moment to process this, that he had literally no choice in who he fell in love with- that fate intervened and made sure that he had someone to love and someone to love him in return for the rest of his life… it was just so much to take in…

-       MC entwined her fingers with his when she noticed what she assumed was struggle painted on his face. This, he was going to have this, forever.

-       It didn’t matter that he had just met the girl, that he knew nothing about her- his body knew before he did.
He already loved her.

-       He smiled and squeezed her hand back.

-       “Okay… I think I’m okay with that.”



Zen:

-       His first motion picture…

-       He was beside himself. He couldn’t believe that his agent had managed to get him this part! It was meant for a more well-known leading man and an unknown actress but they had fallen in love with how well he had read for the part and how well his headshots looked against the actress’s.  

-       He hadn’t been told who they had chosen, it wasn’t like it really mattered at the end of the day- the girl was an unknown, fresh faced and new in the show business role. She had never acted a day in her life but the casting director had seen her on the street and she had just the aesthetic he was after- it was just pure dumb luck that she was natural at acting.

-       He had planned to talk to her at the read through but she had lost her voice and couldn’t attend… it wasn’t until they were both there for the first physical run through of the scenes that they actually met…

-       “Oh hi! You must be-”

“Yeah! You’re the actress playing MC right?-”

-       He didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did she.

-       She was whisked off to fit some costumes and he… he couldn’t breathe.

-       The moment he said MC, his lips started to tingle and an odd buzzing sound rang in his ears. His cheeks felt flushed and his heart beat raced. He couldn’t understand… he had said that name more than a thousand times whilst reading the script, not once did he ever feel that way. It must have been her. Seeing her and her face must have just solidified his character’s feelings inside him of course. That must be what it was.

-       When she finally returned and they shook hands he could have sworn that he felt his own heartbeat beating in time with hers, palm to palm, one solid beat.

-       Damn it he needed to focus and not get too lost into the character… his character was the love-sick fool not him! He was a professional! He had only met this girl! He-he

-       … she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

-       FOCUS!

-       He had to thank whatever it was running through his system because he had never felt more “on” than at that moment. Every line he delivered to her felt authentic and organic, like he truly meant it. Looking around it was obvious that everyone else on set agreed, absolutely transfixed on the couple centre stage.

-       He could feel every word she was saying to him like it was scripture; that every word of love and devotion that she spoke had the power to let him walk on air… and god he really wanted to try.

-       …

-       He must have been a better actor than even he gave himself credit for, making himself believe that he was already half in love with the woman in front of him…

-       He didn’t even want to stop rehearsing until the Director had called out three times for them to finish up, he was just a ball of energy and wanted nothing more than to release that through this amazing acting he and this actress were performing, he didn’t want to lose momentum.

-       He didn’t want to lose what he was feeling…

-       “H-Hey! MC! Did you want to go and get some lunch with me?” he had asked before realising that he had called her by her character’s name. He felt the blood flood his cheeks as he forced himself not to slap himself or just die from embarrassment. He couldn’t be that far gone into this role to already be thinking of her as her character… this is how idiots fall in love with co-stars… “I’m so sorry, habit, I didn’t mean to call you MC-”

“And why not? It’s my name too,” she smiled as she rested her hand on his bicep, the muscle there twitching instinctively under her touch.

-       Shit.

-       Zen was no fool. He knew what this meant. He knew, deep down, that he wasn’t that good of an actor to fool himself- damn it- he was already half in love.

-       The only half evidently. She seemed completely unaffected… unless… had she said his name yet? No, she hadn’t. Only his character’s name!

-       “How silly of me! All this time I’ve never introduced myself properly! Hello MC, my name is Zen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he beamed offering his hand out to her.  

-       Please

-       She smiled and took his hand and laughed as he flipped it over to kiss the back of hers.

-       “Oh! Hahah- wow! Um… yes, yes it’s lovely to meet you too Zen… Zen.”

-       He watched in rapt fascination as her fingers curled around his almost painfully, how her eyes widened and how her jaw fell and closed but fell back down- as if she were trying to desperately find the words… or simply remember how to talk.

-       “So… it’s true what they say…” he trailed off as he drew her closer with a simple tug of her hand still within his, “About when you meet your other half…”

Swallowing deeply and finally blinking her burning eyes MC shook her head and took a step back, though, she did not withdraw her hand.
“What do they say?” she asked her voice trembling as much as her body was.

“That when you finally say your Soulmate’s name- nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful. That nothing else tastes as nice as the name of your Soulmate on your tongue. That the mere thought of their name is enough to bring tears to your eyes…”

-       She stared at him completely astonished by the ardent proclamations of this- stranger-

-       “No one says that,” she whispered as she licked her lips subconsciously her eyes fixated on his, content on watching him worry at the plump flesh.

Not out loud…”

“They should… So- um… lunch?” she asked finally pulling away and bringing her hand to her chest, her other hand cradling it almost tenderly, her fingers tracing the still- warm parts of her skin that he had held.

-       They talked about anything that came to mind, their pasts, their dreams, their favourite food and their mutual aversion to cats. “A cat scratched my face when I was three and although I think they’re beautiful, I just… I just can’t.”

-       Soulmates were made to be a perfect fit after all…  

-       Once they got back on set the tension between the two was so thick it was practically humming- everyone could see that something had happened over lunch.

-       During a pivotal scene, where they were about to finally separate ways forever and part with a kiss…  

-       MC was looking at Zen, tears brimming in her eyes –geez what a talent- merely four lines away from their kiss and-

-       … and she dropped her script and crossed the stage to kiss him. Completely unscripted. Completely inappropriate.

-       It was perfect.

-       “-But Director, they’re not meant to kiss yet-”

“Shhh… she’s absolutely right! The character wouldn’t be able to wait, she wouldn’t want to waste a moment with talk when these two people are all about action! Have the scriptwriters add it right away-”

-       Zen smirked as they continued to share their first kiss with more than fifty random people around them. He didn’t care, the Director was right. They didn’t want to waste another moment- and suddenly- Zen didn’t mind being one of those idiot actors who fell in love with his co-star.

-       “Okay guys we get the point, we should probably move on… guys?… guys?!”



Jaehee:

-       It wasn’t particularly easy being kicked out by your Uncle and Aunt… she didn’t have anyone… and she didn’t want to touch what little was left of her inheritance from her parents so- she figured it would be better if she found a part time job.

-       That way her mind would be occupied at all times and she could indeed earn some money.

-       Besides… working with coffee wasn’t a bad thing. Being a barista wasn’t a bad thing, even if it did mean she was practically drooling at every order she made, she figured there would be worse cons to a job… like being a slave to a tyrant who overworked you and never appreciated you- she shuddered. She never wanted to end up like that!

-       It was a particularly busy day being the first weeks of winter, everyone would run in just wanting a cup of something warm to hold to help them heat up against the chill in the air, the poor brunette was already run off her feet. She was barely even looking at the customers in the eyes as she pushed their orders across the counter.

-       Wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm, Jaehee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Soon. Her own break would be soon. Just the next order to do and she would be free for 30 glorious minutes.

-       Pulling the last ticket off the machine so she could read her colleague’s sloppy writing a little easier, she memorised the order and proceeded to make it perfectly. Pouring it out into the large cup Jaehee took the receipt again to make sure she got the customer’s name right- MC…

-       She nearly spilt the drink all over herself.

-       That name. She’d seen it a thousand times before. Written it a thousand times before.

-       But this time- this person’s name… it made her heart skip a beat. It made her heart feel full and happier than it had for the longest time. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. It made her think of a home, a real one with her and this MC.

-       All from a name.

-       Jaehee finished writing the name down on the cup neatly and carefully put the pen down. She licked her lips and inhaled and called out in a voice she hoped didn’t shake too much, “MC?!”

-       “Oh here!?”

-       Jaehee looked up to see an angel in a trench coat and beanie. Her skin kissed with cold, nose and cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Such beauty right in front of her.

“Um… may I please have my order um… Jae-Jaehee?”

-       The two women looked at each other from either side of the counter, the noise and hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop completely going unnoticed by them.

-       Jaehee pushed the cup to the middle of the bench only to be met in the middle by MC’s hand, her gloved fingers wrapping themselves around her quivering digits.

-       “I… this is…” she stammered unable to look away from the other woman’s eyes, her own honeyed irises large with disbelief.

-       She couldn’t be that lucky… to meet them… to meet her so early in life…

-       “It is,” MC answered her pink cheeks turning red as her lips curled into a stunning smile.

-       “B-but I don’t believe in-”

“I’m standing right here.”

“Nothing good ever happens to me-”

“Right in front of you.”

“I have a break now-”

“Let’s have a coffee.”

-       For the first time since she started working there, Jaehee took her break front of house… with a customer no less… and no one batted an eye when 30 minutes turned to an hour. Then an hour into an hour and a half- the girl had never smiled like she did right then; who were they to take that away from her?

-       They did however yell at her when she accidentally kept writing and calling out MC’s name for every order for the next day.




Jumin:

-       Soulmates? Preposterous. His father had spent his entire adult life looking for his soulmate, convinced that every pretty woman who batted their eyelashes at him and feigned to feel a strong connection to him (his money) was the one. This obsession with finding his Soulmate leading their family to shame and their company to ruin.

-       Well. Not. Him.

-       He didn’t believe in such nonsense. Not once did he find a woman worth spending time with let alone believing them capable to be the other perfect half of your soul. That would be the day.

-       All throughout high school he had one vapid girl after another clawing at him to say their name, hoping that he would feel the twinge in his heart and for butterflies to zoom out of his butt or some ridiculous notion like that. By the first month of school he refused to call any girl by their name and insisted on labelling everyone “Hey you there” or “Female student in front of me.”  

-       By the time he entered university, word had gotten out that Jumin Han just hated the idea of anyone being in love- because who would so vehemently refuse to even try to find their Soulmate? Who would look down on others just for trying to find a little piece of happiness? He was just an angry, lonely man.

-       Not that they were entirely wrong on that assessment… but not entirely right either.

-       Though, he didn’t let something like public opinion of him falter his course or his ideas- Jumin never thought much of other people’s talking of subjects they had no idea about. He took great pleasure it picking apart their arguments and making them sound like fools.

-       Probably why he made such an excellent debater, Captain of the team in fact.

-       In his final year of University, they were finally pitted against their rival school; not once in all the years he had been on the team had he had the chance to face off with the national champions- he was always called off to sit in with his father’s meetings or off sick; but not this time. This time he would meet them, crush them and reclaim the title for his school.

-       He had tried every avenue to find out what they could about their new Captain but everyone was on lockdown, no one would talk and all means of electronically hacking their systems to find out who they were, were completely barred. He didn’t want to cheat, it would sully his victory- no he just wanted to be prepared. Know their history, their grades and whatnot- let it never be said that Jumin Han didn’t do his homework.

-       The day of the debate arrived and sure enough familiar faces lined the opposite team- except one. A pretty girl he supposed, hardly what he would call imposing with her sweet smile and her intermittent waves to the crowd in front of them. Hardly Captain material, he’d be surprised if she was first chair… but wait- what was she doing sitting in the Captain’s chair?

-       Good Lord.

-       This was going to be too easy.

-       Jumin barely heard the announcer listing off his teammates but he paused when he heard her name. It cut through him like a hot knife through butter, seared onto his brain.

-       MC.

-       He felt nauseous, a cold sweat forming on his upper lip as his steel grey eyes raked over her smaller form.

-       She looked just as shaken as he did; her hands ringing together ripping the tissues trapped between her fingers.

-       He thought he was going to faint- what was this feeling? He mouthed her name and the feeling of illness slipped away only to be replaced with a wash of warmth? A silly tingling in his blood that seemed to be singing her name in his ears. His mouth was dry and his throat on fire, his palms lined with a sheen of sweat and his heart beating in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t understand.

-       He watched as MC calmed herself all the while keeping her gaze focused on him, her cheeks burning up the longer she stared. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and he had never been so charmed by a muscle in his life.

-       Jumin she mouthed, maybe to him, maybe to herself- he didn’t know- what he did notice however was the way her hand clutched at her blazer just above where her heart would be. She didn’t look like she was in pain but she wasn’t exactly the same grinning woman he had seen moments earlier.

-       Indeed, it seemed that Jumin could barely tear his eyes off her, he couldn’t pay attention to his teammates, he couldn’t take notes- he could only focus on her. Just how far had he fallen? Over hearing a name and seeing a pretty face? Get it together Jumin!

-       Except he couldn’t. Every time he tried to rebut an argument he would instinctively look back at the opposite team and his eyes locked onto hers and he’d be lost. Each time he’d make any headway with his points he’d want to say her name instead, and of course, everything came out all tongue tied.

-       Thankfully for him, her performance wasn’t much better, she was a blushing mess but still- a coherent blushing mess.

-       Jumin’s university went home empty handed that year after all.

-       But not Jumin, not this time.

-       He wouldn’t lose twice in one day.

-       “Hello there, good performance today.”

“You too.”

“I’m Jumin Han-”

“I know. I’m MC-”

“I heard, yes.”

-       Her teammates were calling for her to hurry up and get on the bus and she was about to call back to them but was cut off by the suddenly confident opposing Captain, “Please go on ahead- I will take MC home.” They looked at her and she in turn looked up to him and shook her head at his cavalier and brash assumption. He was just lucky it was the correct one.

“It’s fine guys, you heard what Jumin said- he’s going to take me home.”

-       The silence in the auditorium was deafening. Jumin never spoke a girl’s first name and he certainly never let someone who just met him call him by his first name… unless…

-       Jumin fiddled with the cufflinks in his sleeves trying to buy time before he had to speak again. MC picked at imaginary lint at her skirt in hopes that the man would continue his initiative.

-       “I… I don’t know how any of this works… in fact until about an hour ago I was certain it was all a farce,” he admitted his eyes firmly fastened on her right shoulder, “but if… if it’s really what it seems like is it- what it feels like it is- I would like the chance to understand it all. Understand everything about you.”

-       MC smiled, even if she wasn’t his Soulmate, after that heartfelt speech, she would have bribed the stars themselves to realign just so she could be.

“I don’t know how this works either- my mother told me it might happen one day, to just pray it would just happen before I got married to someone else who I thought was my Soulmate… is it… I mean… you felt it too? When you heard my name?” she questioned her eyebrows arching up as high as they would go. “The pull? The need to keep saying my name over and over again? Tell me it just wasn’t me.”

-       Jumin’s lips quirked to the side in an amused smirk, this girl was adorable. She could have asked to have his heart out on a platter and he’d have freely offered it, but all she required was the confirmation of his budding feelings from him.

-       Just too easy.

-       “I did. I feel it now. I have no choice but to believe in all this-”

“Prove it.”

“Uh…how?”

“Scream my name out into the audience, let everyone hear it! Let everyone hear the name on the tip of your tongue, the name that your heart beats to now!” she goaded him, an excited grin on her face.

-       Jumin stared at her in shock- again another easy request… he didn’t care what people thought of him after all. Shrugging nonchalantly Jumin opened his mouth to swallow a gulp of air more than ready to scream out her name-

-       Only to have two delicate hands cover his mouth and a giggle that was not his own reverberating on his chest.

“Damn it! I didn’t think you’d actually do it! You’re crazy! I believe it, I believe you!” she guffawed, burying her face against him, her body heat and laughter seeping into him and offering a warmth that he had never felt before.

-       He liked it.

-       He wanted more.

-       “So… perhaps it wouldn’t be out of line for me to ask you out to dinner?” he asked looking down at the crown of her head.

“O-Of course not!”

“Tonight?”

-       The tentative slip of her hand in his was answer enough for him.



Saeyoung:

-       He was a good, diligent worker and that was all that mattered to the Agency.

-       He barely ate, he barely slept, barely did anything but exist and work.

-       The perfect agent.

-       Then they brought her in.

-       606.

-       Quiet and withdrawn but brilliant. She could code almost as well as he did and she could hack into places faster and without a trace better than him. She slept less than him. Ate less than him. Was less than him.

-       She wasn’t going to survive, she would burn out and become useless to the Agency and she would have to be disposed of.

-       … and even as far as he had come, as low as he had gone… that didn’t sit right with him. He chose this life, but someone that hollow did not. Someone that broken had been torn away from a good life, a happy life.

-       He imagined her having younger siblings who missed her, parents who searched the streets with her picture in hand begging for information, friends who no longer spoke to each other because the memory of her haunted them.

-       He wasn’t going to let the agency steal a life that didn’t belong to them.

-       It all started with innocent emails; just him asking how she was, sending her funny jokes or pictures, bantering and bitching about work in such a way that no one would be able to crack down on them for… make her smile. Make her strong. Don’t let her break.

-       606 soon became the life of the office… which didn’t say much because it was literally just him, her and Vanderwood in the small room. She was laughing and smiling and radiating joy- her work improved… the Agency was very happy.

-       707. Stay back tonight. Help me with an assignment?

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       That night when Vanderwood had finally gone past his threshold of exhaustion, the older man peeled himself off the chair and bid “the children” goodnight.

-       She kept typing, she kept on finishing her work for another 20 minutes as he sat there dumbfounded as to why she had asked him to stay back when all she was doing was literally more work. That was what tomorrow was for!

-       He was about to pack up and leave when she threw him a piece of paper.

I’m leaving. Tonight. Come with me.

-       He looked back up at her, there was nothing on her face to discern that she even sent him the message- or even blinked.

“So… you in?”

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       He nodded. She kept typing.

“Come and see me in my room then?”

-       Aahhh, so that’s how she was going to hide it- she was going to pretend they were going to sleep together. That was something he often found weird in the Agency- they didn’t care or discourage the formation of relationships between agents- probably believed if you got attached they could always use the partner as insurance or worse, incentive.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in there.”

-       When he arrived she was in full combat gear, she was ready to fight her way out if needed. They went over the plan over and over again, whispering directly into each other’s ears so that not even the bugs in their rooms could pick up what they were saying. Also with occasional moan or shudder it seemed like they were just making out.

-       Her room was just above the route the laundry trucks would ride out from and she had managed to make contact with one of her friends from the outside- come midnight she, they, would jump down and escape this hell hole. They only had one chance to do this- the other agents on duty would notice a paused truck and would respond immediately.

-       The clock ticked by and before they knew it, it was 11:59 and the faint rumble of an engine could be heard, the soft hiss of the brakes beneath her window.

-       “In case I die,” she uttered, her face stoic and unmoving, “I want you to know- my name, it’s not 606. They wanted me to forget but I will never forget. My name is MC.”

-       It was like a punch to his chest, the sound of her name. It ignited something in him that he never thought he would have the chance to feel, to experience. Not there. To find her there amongst all the sin and evil that they do, he knew how to spot a miracle when God sent one.

-       “You’re not going to die MC, I promise,” he replied as he held her to him in a bone crushing embrace, “I promise.”

“Your name, 707- if I die, I want to know your-”

“Didn’t I just say that you weren’t going to die MC?” he chuckled as her helped out of the window, “I, Saeyoung Choi, promise you.”

-       The look on her face as she said his name would have been enough to take him to his grave. To see her face light up with joy and surprise as if someone had turned on a light inside of her, that would be one of his most treasured memories.

-       His sharp ears caught the sounds of rushed footsteps down the hall.

-       He pushed her roughly before she was ready and heard a loud snap of something when she fell onto the truck. MC was bowed forward, holding onto her right foot that had landed awkwardly and bent inwardly- her face contorted into silent screams.

-       Saeyoung made the sign of the cross as he backed away from the window to do a run up. God please- I just found her- don’t take her away from me.

-       He landed beside her, coiling his arms around her protectively as he laid her down to see the damage to her ankle- it was bad but nothing that some doctor couldn’t fix.

-       He beamed down at her, cupping her face tenderly…

-       As he tried desperately to ignore the barrage of agents chasing after the both of them.

-       Saeyoung gently caressed her features with his fingers, desperate to feel everything under his touch, etch it into his mind.

-       “You lie down here and keep safe okay? I’m going to go and hold them off-”

“No! You can’t do that! They’ll torture you to death!” she cried sitting up, screaming out in pain as she accidentally moved her foot. He shushed her, looking forward to see that they were nearly clear of the base… she was so close to being free.

“Shh, shhh- it’s okay MC. It’ll be okay. I promise,” he reassured her, his eyes crinkling so much that little droplets of tears dotted his auburn lashes.

“No it won’t be-”

“I’ll find you. I promise. I’ll find you.”

“Saeyoung!”

-       He jumped off the truck and refused to allow himself to look back at her- if he did, he would never be able to leave her side.

-       MC ignored the searing pain rushing up her leg to twist her body to watch her Soulmate’s noble sacrifice. One man, two, twelve men on him… he had no chance.

-       “Saeyoung!” she croaked, her voice stifled by her despair.

-       You promised…

-       707: WAIT

        Yoosung: Why?
       
        Zen:??

        707: Think someone entered the chat room;;

        Jumin: MC…?

-       Saeyoung smiled to himself as he traced the location and turned on the camera.

-       Promised I would find you.

 



Saeran:

-       He had been searching for months under her orders. Months and no one was right. He was about to give up hope, that he would have to send in one of their own to infiltrate the damned RFA… but then she appeared.

-       Like a gust of wind on a scorching day or the breath of air coursing through starved lungs- she blew into his life and turned it upside down.

-       He would follow her and watch her from afar. He would tap in and listen to her conversations- not because he was interested in what she was saying- he just wanted to hear her voice.

-       Her friend was laughing on the other line, “Oh… MC… you’re too much!”

-       Saeran fell to the floor, his knees smarting from the hard concrete. No- NO!

-       He crawled underneath his desk and curled up into a tight ball, his arms hugging his knees as he lightly rocked back and forth. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, made him jittery and on edge. No- he was warned against this. Was told that if he ever felt this that it was wrong, that he should only love the Saviour and their cause. That the call of someone else was evil, that it was the work of the corrupted

-       But he was already corrupted, no matter how many times they drugged him and made him try to forget- he knew he was… but MC-

-       She was perfect, absolutely perfect.

-       Unfortunately, the Saviour agreed.

-       It was hard to have something of your own in Mint Eye, something private, something sacred.

-       He had to get her back.

-       They had sent her to infiltrate an organisation full of desperate and lonely people- the most kind and innocent person sent into a den of wolves to feast upon. He had to save her.

-       He was frantic, he sent her conflicting messages- wanting to scare her away from Mint Eye but wanting her to stay away from them- especially Saeyoung. If any of them saw even half of what he saw in her… they would steal her away.

-       Finally the Saviour said it was time to claim their prize back, that since he was so good he could take her for himself- keep her safe himself. He was so happy. But when he got to the apartment, as he scaled the building and broke through the window to reach her… she was not as happy to see him.

-       She was screaming. She was backing away from him. She was afraid.

-       He couldn’t think straight- this wasn’t right. She was supposed to be happy to see him, to come with him willingly. Wasn’t that what Soulmates were about? The moment he knew her name-

-       That was it… he knew her name but she didn’t know his… to her he was…

-       “I’m from Paradise. You don’t know this but you were invited too… I know it took some time for me to come for you… now let’s go together… you look scared, don’t be. I won’t hurt you… endless parties, overflowing love, joy without pain… I’ll save you… You invited someone? Maybe… Luciel Choi?”

“MC- Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m fine!”

“I… I don’t know who you are… but let go of her!”

-       No. Not Luciel. The actor. The pretty one. Of course she would fall for the pretty one.

-       “No.” She’s mine. She’s meant for me.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to use force to protect my girl.”

I don’t want to do this.
“You move a single inch, you see this switch here? I’ll press it.” I won’t.

“What do you want?!”

-       The truth then.

-       “To escape this place safely with the RFA planner… If you don’t want to activate the bomb you better stay still. Just watch as I take… “your girl” and disappear.”

-       The pain in his arm paled in comparison to the ache in his heart when she pulled away from him to run into the arms of another man. Away from him. Always away.

-       Never his.

-       Meant to be his.

-       “My name… My name was Saeran.”




V:

-       It was the school for the rich and gifted.

-       Some more rich and others more gifted.

-       Most loved it there. Some merely tolerated it.

-       One person hated it.

-       Brought in through a scholarship to show how the school was “giving back to the community”, bringing in the charity case and parade them around like their latest trophy.

-       Well this trophy didn’t like the case she was put in. She didn’t like the people who thought they could polish her up and make her shine to their standards. She didn’t like them at all.

-       Especially those that shone the brightest- it hurt to look at them, like the sun- blindingly beautiful but dangerous.

-       None shone more so than V.

-       Pfft.

-       Who the hell named their child V? What pretentious jackass does that?

-       Wasn’t it enough that he went strutting around with his best friend, waving and talking to the more common folk? Wasn’t it too much that he went around taking photos of people and landscapes and saying pompous things like “everything is beautiful and everything is art?” Wasn’t it over the top that he had the gall to act all sweet and kind and look like some sort of bronzed Greek God? WASN’T IT?!

-       MC breathed in trying to calm herself. For the better part of the last six months she had spent it running, hiding and keeping her distance from him. He seemed hell bent on seeking her out and trying to talk to her- well she wanted nothing from him! No help! No charity! No pity! Just to be left alone.

-       During a study period, she was cornered by none other than that trust fund kid’s best friend, super-mega trust fund kid the first, Jumin Han.

-       He chose the desk right next to hers although almost every other desk was available, which only meant he wanted to speak to her.

-       “Why do you hate V?” he asked so bluntly she was surprised by it. She sat up from her prone position laying along the desk and twisted slightly to face the man to her left. She propped her head on her hand and gave him a long, pointed stare.  

-       “I… I don’t know. I just do. From his perfect hair to his perfect persona to, god even his name pisses me off! V! There are just some people that you’re not meant to get along with and he and I are obviously not meant to be besties,” she huffed as she rested the front of her torso back down against the desk, resting her chin atop her crossed arms.

-       “I told him,” he clicked his tongue as he shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms like a disappointed adult to a child… or small pet. “I told Jihyun that you were certifiable. Who hates someone just because of what they can see? Without even getting to know them?”

-       Her fingers dug into the worn wood of the table beneath her.

-       Jihyun… now that was… that was a name she liked. Her breath escaped her lungs as she whirled around so fast she almost lost balance on her seat. That name made her feel soft and fuzzy and loved- she had never even met him and she was already in love with him. Jihyun, a good and noble man who wanted nothing more than to love and care for the woman he loved and to be loved and cared for in return. A man who would make them such horrible breakfasts on Sunday when they were married that they would inevitably go out and eat at a restaurant- yet he never stopped trying. Because he loved her and one day he wanted to get it right. A man who would stay in and read the paper to her as she lay in between his legs and slept on his chest- he wouldn’t even move at all for fear she’d wake or be disturbed.

-       She loved that name.

-       Her heart beat faster and suddenly she couldn’t control her extremities, her legs were bouncing up and down in excitement and her hands unsure of where to place themselves, every place awkward compared to the thought of her hands being linked with his. It didn’t feel right- to be on her own, not now she knew his name.

-       “Who?” she meekly asked the ebony haired prince next to her. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his blazer sleeve, pulling at the strand until it came out completely. “Jumin- who?” she repeated hoping that her insistence would be enough to show him how important it was for her to know who this man was.

-       He gave her a perplexed look, thoughtful eyes glided over her form as if he were trying to ascertain whether she was joking or not. His eyes widened and his mouth pressed into a thin line when he quickly realised that she wasn’t asking in jest, she was completely serious.

“Jihyun… Jihyun Kim is V’s real name. The man you so ardently hated?” he answered, his mouth twitching up into a wry smile.

-       Damn it.

-       MC violently pushed herself back from the desk with both hands before she started running to the last place she had seen V- Jihyun. He was entering the dark room just as she was heading to the study hall. The light was on meaning he was developing something… she should be patient…

-       … but all those months… all those wasted months- how could he forgive her? She didn’t know but she had to try!

-       The light flicked off and she knocked, waiting for him to call out that it was okay and that she could come it. She slowly opened the door and closed it behind her.

-       Less than five steps away was Jihyun, pulling down some developed photos.

-       He was right. Everything was beautiful. Everything was art.

-       He was art.

-       And she was just some dumb pedestrian trying to look at the piece and critique it without having all the history and facts behind it, not knowing the mastery it took to create it. The love that went into it. Fool.

-       He turned to her and she swore that the blue of his eyes was just that little bit bluer, the tone of his hair that much deeper and his lips, full and perfect and so ready for her to kiss she couldn’t believe there was ever a time she wanted to slap his smile off. Now she’d do anything to keep it there forever.

-       What’s in a name? Everything. What did Shakespeare know?

-       “I… I’m so sorry,” she cried, prostrating herself in a deep bow.

-       Startled, V set aside his print and pulled the bowing woman up and forced her to look at him.

“What for? I’m not aware of anything you’ve done that would warrant an apology,” he replied good naturedly, his kind smile warming her to her bones.

“I have been terrible to you and only because… for some unknown reason- I couldn’t stand your name. What it stood for, what you seemingly stood for,” she confessed, her cheeks burning under the harsh lights.

-       V reached behind her and turned on the dark room red lights once again- to save her from embarrassment.

-       “I know- it’s okay MC, you don’t have to explain. I know my name is the problem,” he admitted with a careless shrug. MC gawked at him, how could he know? How could he possibly know?! “I’ve known since the first day when I felt the bond but you did nothing but run away from me- I knew that my name was faulty and that although you may be my Soulmate- that I simply was not yours.”

-       All this time, he thought he was the problem. That she didn’t love him because his name was faulty, that he was faulty.

-       Her heart shattered and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She almost ruined this man, she continued to pile hurt upon hurt on him and now there she was telling her how much she loved him… well… that was what she wanted to do, whether or not she could do it not was the other question.

-       “No… I… I was just stupid. I thought your name was V, not Jihyun. There was nothing wrong with your name- there is nothing wrong with you. I… just, wanted to let you know that. You’re amazing. You’re perfect and I want to get to know you, just as you are.”

-       Even in the dark, the brightness from his smile could be seen.

-       “You do?” the hope in his voice evident, taking the first steps to close the gap between them.

“I do. I want the chance to know the real Jihyun,” she beamed.

“I would love nothing more than that, MC,” he replied, encircling his arms around her body.

-       Well what do you know, they were a perfect fit.

Suck It Up (Ethan smut)

Summary: Lots of fingersucking. Inspired by this ask and this gifset.
Word Count: 1,835
Warnings: Smutty smut. Fingersucking, kinda fingering. Idk.
A/N: oh lordy, I have a one way ticket to hell. I DO NOT KNOW WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT FINGERSUCKING SO GET IN MY ASK AND LET’S GO.


The first time you caught yourself thinking of Ethan Dolan in a more than a friendly way, was when you’d been over at their house. A movie was playing in the background and the room was dark, but not dark enough thanks to the light coming from the large flatscreen. Your feet had been tucked under your legs where you were sitting on the far end of the L-shaped couch, wrapped in a blanket as you giggled along with the twins who were sitting right by you, so wrapped up in what was happening.

Ethan had complained about the unbearable heat, letting out small sighs of frustration as he pulled at the hem of his t-shirt, doing the occasional sweep with his fingers through his damp hair. He’d grimaced at the way you’d been wrapped in the soft blanket, a sweater pulled over your head, asking you how you weren’t dying in the heat. You were fine though. But he couldn’t take it, so he murmured something about getting something cold and rose up from the couch, shoulders slouched the way they always did when he walked; heading straight to the kitchen.

You’d thought none of it, that is until he returned and plopped down on the couch with a satisfied grin. He unwrapped the ice lolly and popped the treat into his mouth, and that was that. Your thoughts entered forbidden territory and you could feel your jaw slacken as you stared at your best friend since childhood sucking obscenely on the phallic shaped ice cream.

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Wanna Bet? (M)

Rich Fuckboy!Jimin x Tutor!reader

PART II  |  PART III

Word Count: 2,782

Summary: Working as a private tutor at the most prestigious university in the region, you had to put up with a lot of bratty kids. Though none were as bad as Park Jimin. Just as your luck would have it, you’ve been assigned to be his full-time tutor for the year….great. After many failed attempts to get his grades up, Jimin comes up with a bet to raise his marks. What’s the worst that can happen, right?

A/N - This is my fic, just re-posting on my sideblog!


You were grateful for this job, you really were. Some days, it was just really hard to be grateful. You worked at the wealthiest, all boys university this side of the country. You’re a private tutor, working with a maximum of five students a year. Things have been going well for you, you’re known as the best tutor at the school, so parents are flocking to you to help their precious spoiled brats. Hey, at least the money is decent.

Your whole week, scratch that, year has gone downhill the moment you get a call from the Dean.

“Y/n? Yes, hello. We’re going to need you to take on a student full time at the start of the new school year. I know this is a lot, so the pay will be increased, and you won’t have to take any other students. You will be tutoring five days a week for this student. Can you do it?”

“Um, yes, I don’t see why not…” growing a little curious as to why the dean himself is contacting you, you ask, “who is the student, Sir?”

“Park Jimin.” Shit.

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The View (m)

Summary: When a supposed bath for one leads to something a little more fun.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: PWP, exhibition kink, dirty talk, teasing, oral sex
Rating: M
Word Count: 4218

Originally posted by dream-bts


The tub is full, water sloshing over the sides any time either of you move an inch however, neither of you give a second glance at the liquid building up on the tiled floor. You both are too preoccupied with each other.

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Power of the Heart Self-Love Spell (W.I.T.C.H. Inspired)

A spell to open yourself up to your own love and sense of self-worth.

You Will Need:

💕 Jar or Glass container

💕 Rose Quartz

💕 Water

💕 A Necklace or Amulet

💕 Moonlight

Steps:

💕 Fill your glass container with water and place in your rose quartz. In a window or outside place your water over night, preferably during a full moon. (any moon will do if you’re in a pinch)

💕 Come morning collect your water and bring it to your work area

💕 Hold your necklace cupped in your hands. Whisper to it your desires to start loving yourself and building your self worth. Visualize it glowing as you whisper these words to it, a soft dim pink. Once you have finished your words kiss it gently putting more of your wishes to love yourself into it.

💕 Holding it by its chain/string with both hands via your pointer finger and thumb lower it slowly into the gem water below until the charm/stone/pendent is submerged fully

💕 Time for more intense visualization: focus on the bowl as it glows with a warm pink light that shines bright like a fire and pulses like a beating heart. See it fill the necklace and make the necklace’s glow more intense until the water is no longer glowing and the light is coming from the necklace, pulsing and beating.

💕 Lift the necklace from the water and gently dab dry then put it on. Feel as it lays against your chest how its energy pulses and beats, warm and close to your heart. Let it warm you. Wear it whenever you need to love yourself.

💕 To cleanse leave in the moonlight and to charge simply repeat spell process above.

We Have Tonight - Harry Styles Imagine

“I think you just need to get over her,” Jeff says as Harry is staring out the window of their rented car whilst here in New York City. He rubs his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, gently pulling at it as his eyes wandered the busy streets outside the car.

It was easy to say those words to Harry, but Jeff wouldn’t ever understand how you made Harry feel. It wasn’t some little crush, or a fling for lack of better words, it was falling in love in the worst of ways. Being the worst because it didn’t work out. What Harry imagined as a long lasting love, ended with tabloids and teary eyes. Things didn’t go the right way, instead it felt as though you and Harry had fallen while trying to made such a big leap together. Now all he had were some bruises and a broken heart.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get over ‘er, mate,” Harry mutters. Just then they’re driving into the hectic area of New York that is Times Square. And there you are, plastered on the sides of the buildings.

Keep reading

Shhhh.. She’s sleeping

Originally posted by tom-hollcnd

Series: Tom Holland Dad Imagines

(check my masterlist for more of my stories)

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The reader gives birth, baby is home and Tom does a livestream to show the baby to his fans.

Warnings: Swearing cause Tom swears IRL.

Word Count: 1,200+

A/N: Comment if you want more of these kind of imagines. Also my requests are open :) Tyoed this while on pain medication so,hopefully its not fucked up.


[Tom’s POV]


   Today I just got done filming what I had to do. Now I get to go home, be with my newborn and spend time with my lovely wife. My wife and I got to bring her home after a few days. Ever since we introduced Tessa to her she’s been hooked,Tessa loves laying by the crib now. She absolutely loves being near the baby.


    The doctor warned us about introducing Tessa to our daughter. Me of course I knew Tessa couldn’t do any harm. Even my wife knew Tessa wouldn’t even harm her. The moment Tessa met her was the most purest and sweetest moment anyone could witness.


   Opening the front door I’m greeted by a happy Tessa. Smiling down at her I rub the top of her head. Pulling out my phone I smile by all the sweet comments on my picture. I posted a picture of me holding my daughter when she was born. Clicking on my story I click the ‘Live’ option. It counts down from three to one after checking the connection. Viewers start racking up once the livestream started.


“Ello guys, today’s been a really good.. I finished filming what I needed to for the new sequence, yes I’m not going to spill details” I laugh at how I recklessly spilled stuff in the past.


   Reading the comments I see them mainly asking about the baby. Other’s asking about how my wife was feeling. Setting my phone on a shelf I pull out a mug. Pulling the coffee pot from its warm home I fill the cup up. Smiling at how the coffee was ready for me, she must have started it knowing I’d be home as of now. I’m so blessed.


“My wife is a trooper guys, she was in labor for eighteen hours.. I’ve never heard her swear so much..” the memory causing me to laugh out loud.


“She was like “Fuck you Holland it’s all your fault”  and I being a lil shit was like “well if we didn’t fuck we wouldn’t be here” then I got slapped on the head which wasn’t fun” chuckling as I take a sip of my coffee. Reading more people comment about how beautiful our daughter is. One person saying she looks like a baby rather than an alien like some baby’s look like when they’re born.


“Thank you for all the lovely comments! You guys won’t believe how lovely my daughter is..” holding my phone in front of my face as the live stream continues. Watching as the side gets spammed with hearts. Then I see the same question pop up, yet It was on the post I made a few days ago. Drinking more of my coffee as I see the same question pop up again and again.


@tomhollanlover6991: WHAT IS HER NAME?!


“Her name is Nova Anne Holland, she was born two weeks earlier which surprised everyone because I didn’t think I would be home for her birth” I respond making my way up the stairs. The carpet feeling good against my aching feet from today’s interview and photoshoot.


“We named her Nova because our daughter is beautiful like Supernova’s and no we didn’t name her Nova after the Marvel character” I explain with a small laugh only imagining the memes they would try to make. My fans and their damn memes will be the death of me.


    Making my way up the stairs I hear Tessa’s tags jingling behind me. Checking my bedroom I don’t see my wife. The only other place she could be is in the nursery. Walking down the hall I see Nova’s galaxy plaque with her name on it hanging from the door. Continuing to talk to my fans as I get closer towards the door.


[Reader’s POV]


“Oh my,you’re so beautiful.. so so beautiful” You whisper down at Nova,the rocking chair moving slowly as you cradle her in your arms. Her little finger wraps around yours as she lets out a little yawn. Watching her eyelids droop were falling due to sleep beckoning her.


“Let’s get you off to bed love” her eyes closing slowly as you get up from the rocking chair. Smiling at the sight of her hand still wrapped around your finger.


“Your daddy and I love you so much darling” Pressing a soft kiss to her head before lowering her into her crib. Slowly taking her hand off of your pointer finger,her small hands making your heart melt at the sight. This little human you created was everything to you.


   Taking the small multi-colored purple knit blanket off of the railing. Laying it across her body you tuck the sides so she’s in a semi blanket cocoon. She cried the most when she was cold, which we learned quickly. Tom’s voice could be heard through the door. Freezing I look to see Nova stirring in her sleep.


Thomas I swear to God.


“I’ll show Nova to you, she’s probably sleeping by now” The door opens to reveal Tom. He peeks in the room entering slowly. A smile popping up on his face as he sees you. You were dressed lazily and felt like death, yet he still looked at you like you were a million dollars.


“Shhh… she’s sleeping Tom, I don’t want her to wake” you whisper holding a finger to your lips. He walks over towards you giving your cheek a swift kiss.


   Turning the camera around he shows Nova to his fans. His free hand reaches down towards Nova. Tom strokes her cheek gently with his finger down to her chin. Nova smiles in her sleep at her father’s touch making you almost die from the cuteness. 


    His eyes full of adoration while he looked at her. Tom ends the livestream and puts his phone away in his pocket. Leaning against his chest as he held you next to him. The two of you looking at your beautiful child together. Tom kisses you on top of your head making you sigh out in content,life was perfect.


“C’mon I’ll got put the kettle on, if she cries I’ll head back up” You whisper taking Tom’s hand giving it a small tug. You didn’t know how much time you would have with him before he would have to take off again.


“Can we look at her for five more minutes? I feel like she’ll grow up so fast” Tom begs quietly pulling you towards him. Stifling a laugh you nod up at him as he grins. 


“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger and she’s only been home for three days” Your eyes examine her sleeping face. Tom rests his left elbow on top of the railing of the crib. Resting his chin on his hand as he looks down at her. 


“She’s definitely going to say Daddy first” he sends a cheeky grin your way. She is going to say Mommy first, what is he thinking?


“If she’s smart like her mother she’ll say mommy first” you respond in a challenging tone earning a look from Tom.


“Is this going to be a bet?” Tom asks raising an eyebrow up.


“You’re going to lose” you whisper pushing him slightly. He fakes a painful attack placing his hand on his forehead. Opening the door to the nursery Tom grins pulling you towards his body. He picks you up spinning you in a circle. 


“Let’s make a bet,if I win we have another kid and if you win we have another kid” His offer making you laugh a bit as he carries you out of the room. Setting you down he cups your cheek with his hand. The warmth of his skin makes you smile.


“Well I was wanting another kid anyways so we both will win?” you respond brushing a curl out of his face. He lets out a chuckle nodding his head agreeing with you.


“She’s still going to say Daddy first, I just know it… I mean did you see that smile when I touched her cheek? That was brilliant” the excitement in his voice was absolutely adorable.


“Nooooo” you whine wrapping your arms around his neck. 


“It’s going to happen darling, just you wait till Nova says Daddy”  he whispers as his lips kiss your forehead. 


“You cheeky lil shit” a groan escapes your lips as your head falls against his chest. You give up with a sigh of defeat as he laughs holding you close to him. Moments were wonderful like this with Tom, you couldn’t imagine a life without him and Nova.