this is really ugly because he's so tan and so the red really comes out in his skin

Leave A Message: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: AU, After a night of heavy drinking, Betty Cooper realizes she’s left a series of revealing messages on her crush and roommate, Jughead Jones’s phone. 

Words: 1,600

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing, sexual dialogue but mostly embarrassing fluff. 

A/N: I’ve edited this myself so I apologize for errors. 

Betty Cooper’s head was pounding. She had made the mistake of going out with her roommates Cheryl Blossom and Veronica Lodge to celebrate the end of finals. Now she was sitting at their kitchen island cradling a cup of coffee, trying to figure out if IHOP delivered.

“Good Morning!” Cheryl sang as she skipped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her luscious red was piled up on top of her head and her skin was glowing. She looked like an angel not someone who had partied hard the night before. “How are you?” She asked Betty.

“I’m so hungover” Betty groaned resting her head on her arms. “I’ve never been this hungover.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have done all those shots of Liquid Cocaine.” Cheryl chuckled and began taking out a few frying pans. “You want some bacon and eggs?” She asked.

“I do!” Veronica answered, her silk black robe trailing behind her matching her beautiful black hair. She walked up to Cheryl and gave her a soft kiss. Cheryl and Veronica had been dating since before they had left Riverdale and their relationship was goals.

“How are you guys not hungover?” Betty asked.

“We didn’t do three shots of tequila and then perform a Coyote Ugly style dance on the bar. You drank so much you should be dead.” Veronica informed.

“I wish I was dead.” Betty said sliding off her stool and laid on the floor. “The tile is so cold. I love the tile.”

“You’ve seen better days, Cooper.” Jughead Jones exited his bedroom from the other side of the loft and sat in the stool Betty just occupied. Jughead was Betty’s fourth and final roommate and she had developed a deep crush on him since the four of  them had moved from Massachusetts to California for school.  

Jughead had blossomed in the sunshine state. He had taken up surfing and gotten a tan, transforming himself into a ripped golden god. Whatever girls didn’t like about his moodiness in Riverdale, they loved here. Betty hated that she didn’t make a move sooner and now that he was bedding Californian goddesses, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh god.” She muttered rolling onto her back. She was so dehydrated she could hear herself blinking. She focused on Jughead messy mop of black hair when he appeared above her.

“Up we go.” He said lifting her into the sitting position. “Take these,” he dropped two extra strength Advil in her palm. “And drink the entire glass.” He instructed.

She did as she was told and steadied herself against him when she stood up. “I need to go back to sleep.”

“Yes, you do.” Jughead agreed walking her back to her room. “Do you need to use the washroom?” He asked.

“I’m not a child, Jug.” Betty snapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not just rolling around on the floor moaning?” He cocked an eyebrow and helped her into bed. She got underneath the covers and he tucked her in. “Get more rest, you’re gonna need it.” He winked and left her room, closing her door.

Her brow furrowed at her choice of words but she was too tired to give it much more thought than that.

She woke up at 3 in the afternoon feeling much better. Still hungover but manageable. She stumbled out into the living room and found Jughead reading a book. “There she is!” He exclaimed. “I got more Advil out and grabbed some water. There is some left over Thai from lunch in he fridge if you are hungry.”

Betty grabbed the Advil, headed over to the kitchen and began heating up her food. Once the Thai was nice and hot she made way back over to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked not looking up from his book.

“Mmmm” She answered with a mouth full of food.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“So you don’t remember dancing on the bar?” He inquired.

She shook her head.

“You don’t remember leading the whole bar in a rendition of ‘Come On Eileen’?”

“How do you know this? You weren’t even there”

“Cheryl was sending me videos.” He paused. “Do you remember making a phone call?”

“It’s 2018, Juggie, no one makes phone calls anymore.” She rolled her eyes and took a gulp of her water.

“You sure about that?” He asked again.

“I haven’t spoken on a phone in like two years.”

Jughead took out his cell, began scrolling and finally pushed a button. He held it up so they could both hear it.

“Jughead, mother fucking, Jones.” Betty’s gravelly drunken voice rasped out of the phone.

Her eyes widened and she started choking on her food.

“You fucking idiot with your stupid hat and your stupid attitude and your stupid face like you don’t know how amazing you are. Well, I guess you kinda do now with that revolving bevy of girls in our apartment all the time. And what is wrong with me huh? I’m hot, I’ve had six guys hit on me tonight. Six!”

She heard herself yell through the phone and she buried her head in her arms. “No, no, no.” She repeated over and over again.

“I’m smart too and my personality is okay, so what’s your problem Jughead, huh? I’ve been told that my vagina is like, the actual best. Like, what do I need to do? I guess there is a possibility that you aren’t interested in me but I’m the tits so why wouldn’t you be.” She paused. “Another thing, you actual piece of shit-” She was cut off and he lowered the phone.

“Please tell me I didn’t call you back.” She asked, looking at him through her fingers.

He was smirking and she wanted to smack him. “That was the first of fifteen messages. My favorite was how you told me that you obsess over how big my penis is but it’s probably just normal size and that you should stop worrying about it because this isn’t a romance novel.” He chuckled.

She made a whiny, crying sound, her face burning hot.

He didn’t say anything like she expected. She expected him to tease her, she expected him to tell her that they were friends but their relationship wouldn’t be anything more than that but he didn’t. She felt his weight on the couch beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“Would it made a difference if I did?”

“Uh, yeah, kind of a big difference, do you know how you appear to others? Do you know how intimidating you are?” His voice was soft and sincere.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, rubbing her temples.

“You’re beautiful, smart and funny. You make everything seem so effortless, you should date an architect or something.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with architects?” She moaned, falling back into the cushions of the sofa.

Jughead sighed. “Betty, did you ever think about just asking me out?”

She threw him some serious side eye. “Oh yeah Jug, I’ll just walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, I know we’ve known each other forever and I’ve ignored you for most of it but now that you’re all hot and dating models and shit, you wanna go out on a date?’” She scoffed.

“Okay.” He replied.

“What?” She sat up quickly, wincing when he head throbbed.

“I’ll go out with you.”

“Why? You date hipster girls who wear glasses they don’t need and are way too big for their face. You date girls who always look good in a romper, always have perfect Coachella hair and eat avocado toast everyday. I go days without showering, I’ve slept in the library more than once, I’ve dropped a McDonalds hamburger on the ground and still ate it because I had spent my last dollar on it and it was all I could eat for 17 hours until I got paid. Last night I threw up in my hamper-”

Jughead cut her off with a kiss. Betty was taken aback by the sudden gesture and it took her body a moment to relax and really accept what was happening. Betty had fantasized about this moment every night for months. What he would smell like, what he was taste like, how he would feel. He tasted like the cinnamon tic tacs he was always eating, spicy and sweet. He smelled like clean laundry, the sea and coconuts from using the girls shampoo all the time. Betty ran her hands through his hair bringing him closer to her. His body was hard and muscular and he pushed it against her, his skin warm and tan and so different from what she expected.

He parted from her, a smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Liar.” Betty whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Betty, I’ve had a thing for your since the ninth grade.” He admitted, kissing her again.

“Do you want to take this into the bedroom?” She cooed running her hands over his chest.

“No, Bets.”

Her head jerked back. “What? Why? You take all these girls to bed and not me?”

“Betty, you aren’t all girls, you’re the girl.” He smiled and kissed her again.

She smiled back. “Can you please, for the love of god, delete all the messages I left you.”

“Um, absolutely not, this shit belongs in the MOMA.” He took out his phone. “Prepare yourself for message number two.”

Virginity Stories

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: Aftermath of mission (slight not much description), drinking, language because I’m me, SMUT, Male and female oral receiving, loss of virginity, sexual intercourse, vaginal penetration

Word Count: 6284 (Sorry I know its over 5000, but its worth it I promise. Please don’t hate me I got carried away because its been forever since I wrote my Stevie :( 

A/N: This was written for Kate’s Cards Against Humanity Writing Challenge @emilyevanston. My prompt was “How did I lose my virginity?” Still new at writing smut so I apologize if it sucks. Also first time writing loss of virginity so please be gentle. Been awhile since I wrote Marvel so I’m glad to be back. Sorry this is late I’m a horrible person whose job keeps her hella busy and hella tired. No beta and feedback always wanted and appreciated. 

***Explicit GIFs under the cut***

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Words That Water Flowers - Chapter 11 - DecemberCamie - Hunter X Hunter [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Words That Water Flowers

Total word count: 26650 -> Chapter 11 word count: 4226

Chapter 11 summary:

Queesting (Dutch) -when you invite someone into your bed for some pillow talk

School is currently destroying me but at least I have killugon and this story to make it better~

But, yeah, so here is the highly awaited chapter 11! I hope you enjoy it and that it was worth the wait :D I can’t thank you enough for all of the support and love this story has gotten, I’m so thrilled you all enjoy it so much <3 Thank you thank you thank you!

Gon’s bedroom always gave Killua a sense of peace, somehow. It probably had something to do with the fact that Killua spent more time within these four walls in the past five years than he had in his own bedroom in his entire life. He knew at what hour the sun would peek through the whale-patterned curtains, how to open the closet door without it screeching like a terrorized cat, and which dresser hid the large-ish hole Gon had accidentally punched into the wall two years ago.

To Killua, Gon’s bedroom was home, was belonging. It gave him a sense of comfort he could never find anywhere else.

So. The question was, if Gon’s bedroom was so soothing to him, why the hell couldn’t he fall asleep?!

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[24/6/17] Kuroko no Basuke’s stage play “OVER-DRIVE” - fan report


*!Spoilers alert!*

*!Accuracy warning!!* 

  • If I don’t unload all of this stuff now I won’t have memory space for the Brave10 stage play I’m gonna watch this very evening
  • Take the accuracy of this content and even the sequence of events with a pinch of salt 
  • I think I’ll be able to fact-check myself after I catch the live-viewing on the 17th next month
  • International fan - unable to understand 50% of the dialogue and all of the verbal puns ;(
  • Strongly focused on my favorites so this report might be kind of narrow in focus
  • Sat kind of well in the middle row of the middle section of the theatre
  • Now for only some of the funniest and most memorable moments from kurosute:

Introduction sequence:

  • Dance sequence to RIMFIRE by GRANRODEO 
  • Seirin danced first, followed by Kaijou, Shutoku and then Touou 
  • Everyone enters the stage dancing except Aomine, who just strutted out into his team and did something like the least amount of dance of all 
  • But he’s so big and tall that with his spray tan when you look at him you wonder if that’s it, is that the perfect body? 
  • End part: Kuroko stands on one side of the rotating stage, posing, while the other three Miracles stand in a line opposite him, also posing, and the stage rotates. Couldn’t help thinking that the other three look like actual figurines come to life and I think it’s because they were each so tall and muscular looking… In comparison to Kuroko, who was of course muscular and also in top condition, but comparatively small 
  • Tsuchida-san, aka the Seirin member with no eyes, warns the audience sitting closest to the stage that actual basketballs might go flying at them during the matches, so he tells them not to worry, and more importantly, tells them not to chuck the ball back onto the stage
  • And later on one of Midorima’s shoots actually fly to the audience at quite the shockingly fast speed 

Shutoku and Seirin at the same training camp: 

  • Kagami stumbles onto the middle of the stage from the right side first, grumbling and carrying a cup 
  • Kuroko enters from the middle of the stage, coming up behind Kagami with messier hair than usual and one very large, prominent tuft of hair sticking out from the right side of his head
  • He gets yelled at
  • Midorima and Takao then show up entering from the left side - leading to a bit more of mutual yelling here
  • Riko changed into a light yellow shirt and light blue shorts makes Kagami run back and forth on the beach to get drinks for them 
  • Skipping all the way to the ONSEN SCENE pt. 1:
  • Where Takao, Midorima and a big rubber ducky scoot in from the left side of the stage behind a knee-high (and movable) onsen bath wall, where they rest their exposed arms (SHIRTLESS THEY WERE SHIRTLESS) over the top and chat
  • Takao looks at Midorima when he talks
  • Midorima looks at the rubber ducky when he talks
  • yes no glasses
  • no clothes either 
  • Midorima got sort of agitated at one point and makes to stand up (which would expose his NIPPLES) but Takao grabs one shoulder and pushes him back 
  • “Scoot” meaning that they were probably crab walking sideways as they entered, since they kind of had to carry the wall between them. Though they might have had some a hidden helper in-between them since the duck turned on its own to look at Midorima when Takao called him out
  • Oh my god Takao’s arms they were really tanned and really smooth
  • ONSEN SCENE pt. 2: 
  • As soon as midotaka scoot off with their bath wall, Hyuuga and Kiyoshi scoot in from the right with their onsen wall 
  • I can’t remember if Hyuuga was wearing glasses… 
  • When you have two muscular guys side by side topless behind a very short wall… Aaaaaaaarms  
  • These two are a lot more mature about showing exposed skin because Kiyoshi actually got up and we got to see more-
  • I was surprised! And appreciative! I thought they wouldn’t go so far since Takao pushed Midorima back down, but looks like I was wrong!
  • Midorima gives helpful advice to Kagami scene: 
  • I’m not entirely certain why but making a good guess - Midorima’s Onsen rubber ducky is following him around like it’s one of his lucky items as he shows up at the street basketball court with a can of red bean soup in his hand
  • Meaning the rubber ducky is being held in the hand of an anonymous actor in a grey suit; the rubber ducky stays on the sidelines and watches them go
  • The rubber ducky also holds Midorima’s canned red bean soup for him as he goes against Kagami
  • And when Midorima is done the rubber ducky gives the canned red bean soup back to him 

1st official match - Kaijou VS Touou

  • What I really came for was - Kise’s tears 
  • We have the team entrances. It’s Moriyama, Hayakawa followed by Kasamatsu again. First off Kasamatsu puts Hayakawa through a series of R-word exercises 
  • He fails all three exercises and also fails to shut up
  • Kasamatsu then has to stop Moriyama, who’s trying to catch the hearts of the female audience with his shitty puns. Wish I could understand :/ 
  • The gags here were pretty much the same as the ones from the first kurosute play
  • Skipping past the more technical stuff of the match… right till to the part where the match ends: 
  • Kise is on the floor and doesn’t get up… And the veins on his neck got prominent as he started to cry. For a very long time he’s just there in the middle of the floor
  • Kasamatsu comes to him and gently pulls one arm over the shoulder, and slowly starts to pull Kise up. Kise is bowed over and leans heavily on him, but refuses to look at either him or the crowd 
  • Kise’s sobbing: “Senpai… I-I wanted… to…!” 
  • Kasamatsu gently patted his head
  • Many people around me are crying
  • Eventually he helps Kise off one side of the stage, with the rest of the team, but then Kasamatsu stays behind in the locker room for a bit
  • Kise recovers (with wet eyes, finally looking at the crowd) but is surprised that Kasamatsu isn’t with them, and as they’re leaving he asks if he should go get senpai. Moriyama stops him-
  • As Kasamatsu was on the center of the stage - alone in the locker room - his face breaking
  • He was crying too

2nd official match - Shutoku VS Seirin: 

  • That really left off on a downer. Anyway this match Midorima’s lucky item is a man-sized ugly grey bear that strides out with the Shutoku team like it’s one of them (Miyaji: “Seriously?!”)
  • The man-sized bear made Midorima give him a high-five after he scored one of his shoots
  • When Captain and center Otsubo gears up for an attack, the soundtrack changes into deep booms as his impressive build goes for a shoot
  • For the final point, where Kagami and Midorima are pushing at the basketball, there’s a whole lot of shouting going on from all the members of Seirin and Shutoku as the two aces wrestle for the point
  • Though it was a good match, and at the end of it the audience applauded for the teams as well
  • (I can’t remember when specifically this took place but) Takao’s bicycle pull-cart made an appearance. Obviously Takao would be the one pulling it but Midorima gave him a chance to get out of it by agreeing to succumb to a round of rock-paper-scissors
  • Of course Takao loses
  • Then he tries to whine out of it, grabbing his shoulder and saying (something like): “Ow, but Shin-chan, I’m really tired from the match…”
  • To no avail. They get on the pull-cart. And it probably happened by accident but as Takao got on his seat he kicked the cart that Shin-chan was on, bumping him up a little lol

Flashback to Team Seirin’s past: 

  • This scene was triggered by Kagami and Kuroko, who wanted to know the beef between Kiyoshi and Hanamiya
  • So the senpais revert back a year in age and act out this flashback, by donning the winter Serin uniform and jumping onto the stage with peace signs and brightly shouting: “Kiyoshi Teppei, 15 years old, first-year student!!” 
  • Izuki and Tsuchida did this too… And then last of all was Hyuuga, but he did his with a twist:
  • He changed into the stringy, hazard-sign yellow blonde hairdo mistake in his first-year
  • So ugly so awesome!!! 
  • Many different clubs were recruiting members, and naturally they were acted by the other team members. I could only recognise Aomnine by his really tanned legs though, smack in the middle and waving the “Tea Club” poster overhead while swaying his hips
  • And then Hyuuga cleans up his act and his hair goes back to normal, then Seirin go to the rooftop (balcony at the back of the stage). Time to shout their declarations
  • Halfway though… A teacher interrupts them! He’s - a female teacher shows up next to the Seirin founding members in a tight grey dress and very prominent boobs. I have no idea what she said. She had a short black wig on and kept touching and touching and touching her boobs in reaction to whatever the boys were saying
  • So… after staring at her for so long I can say that she’s not any one of the other team’s members… 
  • Kiyoshi injures his knee, in that old match with Kirasaki Daiichi. He was quite devastated to be withdrawn from the match, because when Hyuuga was checking up on him he was holding his knee and let out a short, half sob 
  • :( 

Present - 3rd official match - Serin VS Kirasaki Daiichi:

  • Back in present time, the first years are now fired up to go
  • But it’s a brutal match, and when one of Kirasaki Daiichi’s members elbowed and got to Kiyoshi’s eye he fell straight to the floor holding it
  • And from his reaction I actually thought fake blood would appear
  • And of course that would never happen. Riko immediately ran over to him… 
  • He was targeted by two guys at all times, since he deliberately drew their attention from Kagami 
  • Hanamiya Makoto… the Bad Boy, coach and captain… not one of my favourites
  • So it was great to see that when he stepped over to Riko to try and intimidate her, Kiyoshi quickly stepped between them and shielded her like a true gentleman (it was a very small gesture. Just in case they triggered shipping wars? But the thought counts you know)

End scene: 

  • Same dance sequence to RIMFIRE, and then ending speeches by select members
  • And I got to see Hirano Koshu (as Hayakawa) and Wago Shinichi (as Moriyama)!
  • Firstly Hirano Koshu went and he was a little unsure of what to say. Until someone (might have been Kenshou) suggested that he imitate his favourite body gag out of his senpais
  • So okay, Koshu goes for it. He folds his right arm in front of him and then rapidly smacks his left hand against it, all the while shaking his head and yelling something
  • Kenshou makes the original person step up to do it. Unbelievably… it’s Matsumura Ryuunosuke (as Kasamatsu)
  • The original’s version is everything but faster, greater intensity, cocking his head at a sharper angle and yelling at a much louder volume
  • And senpai Nosuke pretended to smack Koshu afterwards for putting the spotlight onto this body gag
  • Next is Wago Shinichi’s turn. He gives his thanks and all but ends it with a Moriyama pick-up pun! “Everyone’s smiling faces tonight has been sending my heart into over-drive!!” 
  • A cheesyass pun on the stage’s name that garnered huge applause and lots of whoops and cheers from many females, myself included. I whooped at least twice.I think a lot of women like cheesyass puns!

Lastly some concluding thoughts:

  • Two hours is too damn short for a series as content-heavy as KNB. We… need more
  • Your heart will break when you watch the finale of the Kaijou match with your own eyes because… Kuroba Mario, obviously. But then BAM!, Kasamatsu also cries. How’s that for things? 
  • He’s the best. I love how much he loves Kise Ryouta such that in the pamphlet when they ask the actors their single most favourite thing of their characters, and everyone else gave about two sentences regarding one character trait, Mario gave an entire paragraph starting from Kise’s regrets to his personal growth and then about maturity of thoughts and how he found everything super charming, until in the end he had to cut himself off with “Sorry, I just love everything about Kise.” 
  • I also love their couple bromide series. It’s a fantastic idea business-wise and it made me spend so much more money. Hey haisute how about you do couple bromides too huh?? Though I find it regrettable that they didn’t have couples like Hanamiya & Kiyoshi, Kiyoshi & Riko, Hyuuga & Riko, or Aomine & Momoi
  • It’ll be nice too if they went one step further and also had a triple bromide series, like Kiyoshi & Riko & Hyuuga you can’t not give a nod to canon exes and crushes
  • I don’t like Hanamiya so thank god for his actor Motohiro Ota who could make a guy like him who hurt Kiyoshi like that tolerable and even cute, through his daily numerous tweets and jokes with his teammates like this “Full team pic. Try and spot our fourth member” one
  • I’ll focus on other hidden gems when I watch the live-viewing on the 17th!! I swear
  • I was so excited for Kiyoshi Teppei’s live adaptation, and with the gem of an actor they got for him - older man charm, actual basketball experience, huge brown eyes, body in peak condition - I can’t wait to see their picks for Murasakibara and Himuro, I really can’t. I’m thrilled about it already even if they haven’t said anything about a third kurosute play 
Stay Alive for Me (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader) Part 7

Originally posted by thedivorcecrockpot

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Teenaged!Reader

Requested?: No

Prompt: Lin finds a teenage girl unconscious at his doorstep and decides to nurse her back to health. As her stay is extended, Lin finds himself attached to the troubled teen that captured his heart.

Words: 2800+

Warnings: Premiere of Hamilton, First Date, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Foreshadowing


/ Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Eight /


Saturday 7:45 pm (Two Days Later) ~

You had gotten to The Public Theater around noon that eventful Saturday. Besides it being the premiere of Hamilton, it was your sixteenth birthday. Lin had woken you up around seven like usual, but he had a tray of breakfast ready for you. You ate breakfast in bed before Lin revealed that he had presents for you. Opening them from the smallest to largest, Lin had gotten you a glass makeup container, a new hairbrush, two-hundred dollars worth of new clothes from Hot Topic and Forever 21, and a spa treatment gift basket.  You only knew Lin for a week and he was basically your new dad. You told him you didn’t expect nor wanted any birthday gifts from him, the best gift you had ever gotten was him saving you from your horrible father. Lin just brushed you off and still got you stuff. You felt terrible when you found out Lin’s birthday was last Tuesday, not getting him anything that could show how much you appreciated him and his kindness. Of course, he told you not to worry about it, but you still felt bad. You had decided that you’ll get him something for the musical’s premiere that will show how much you appreciate him and his selflessness towards you.  

It was about fifteen minutes until the last show of the night. The first show was around noon and you didn’t get to the theater until after the first act, forcing yourself to wait for Lin in his dressing room for the remainder of the show. He was surprised that you didn’t watch the show but only laughed when you told him your reasoning.  

“You really are something else, (Y/N).” Lin murmured to himself, not expecting you to hear him.  

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weak (violet/trixie/katya) 5/? - kitty

A/N: smut! feelings! hedgehogs! also i now have a writing blog @kittydoux if you want to yell at me. as always, much love to polly


“Tell us what you want,” Violet says quietly, hates saying the words because they like to know, not ask.

Katya is silent for a few moments.

“Tell us what you need.“

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Insanity - Calum Hood

In which a mysterious Calum sitting alone in a corner catches the eye of Y/N

Rating: MA-15
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death, Asylum!Calum
Word Count:
Written by Madalyn x

Of course he wasn’t the easiest one to notice.
He didn’t have red hair like Michael.
Of course he didn’t have the pick of friends.
He didn’t have Ashton’s charm.

But still, he did have one thing.
He had my attention.
He had my curiosity focused on him like a laser pointer.

The tan boy, tattoos dotted over his arm which was peeking out from the stark white sleeve of the hospital gown, who simply sat in the corner table with his eyes on his scarred hands had caught my attention somehow, and I was transfixed on him.
From his chocolate eyes to his caramel skin, I was hypnotized by his everlasting light.

No one could really work out just exactly where he came from or why the hell he was even there, and the stories flowed thick as fast from other residents of the facility. He just showed up one day, no warning from any nurses, no tour of the facility before he was admitted. He was just there one day, sitting at the abandoned corner table in the mess hall during dinner.

“I heard the new kid’s dad beat him so bad that he finally got sick of it and he murdered his father.” Michael blurted out quickly and all of a sudden one day at breakfast, making the three of us jump from our own little worlds back to the real one.
“That’s so bullshit. Look at him. Do you really see that guy murdering someone?” Ashton chimed in with a snicker of disbelief. His point was solid. Looking over at the fragile soul hiding away from other people in the corner, the sight of him wasn’t one you would immediately compare to a murderer.

“I’m not even kidding! Dr. Gaskarth told me!” the red head urged, slamming his hands down on the table, earning a collective groan from the table from both the loud noise and the absolute idiocy of his story that could only be fitting with all the rest of his insane theories. But of course, all of those who knew him were familiar with all his strange, never linking conspiracy theories.
“Because we’re gonna believe the compulsive liar that the head psychiatrist told you confidential information on a new patient? Yep. Sure thing, Clifford. Sure thing.” Luke scoffed, eyes rolling and sitting back in his chair. He chewed at his lip piercing, a nervous habit, as he looked over to the mystery in a human body sitting all alone in the corner, hidden away from humanity.
“I don’t like the look of him, anyway. I’m getting bad vibes from him.” he stated, matter-of-factly, turning back to us with a frown gracing his features.

From that point on, I kind of just stopped paying attention. My eyes had already wandered to the tan boy sitting all alone in the corner. I didn’t want to hear anymore theories from the boys of what he could have done. He didn’t seem like the violent type. He looked like he would break down in tears at any moment.

“You’ve been real quiet there, Y/N. What’s up with you, huh?” Ashton’s voice broke me from my trance, bringing my attention back to the three pairs of eyes watching me. My mind wandered back to my friends, still distracted. Maybe he was lonely over there? Maybe he was just too anxious to speak to anyone on his own and he just needed a little push? With all the rumours going around, I can’t imagine what it would be like to go up to someone on my own.

“Nothing. Nothing… I’ll be right back, okay?”
I didn’t give them any time to respond before I stood from my chair and made my way down the line to the corner table, pulling out a chair ad plonking myself on the seat just across from the strange new boy. He didn’t look up nor speak a word as I rested my elbows on the white table between us. My eyes didn’t leave him for a second, and so it was almost impossible to miss the flinch that rocked his body at the screeching of the chair legs.

“I haven’t seen you before. New here, huh?” I offered an opening into casual conversation, but he didn’t say a word, didn’t lift his head and he didn’t even act as though he had heard what I’d said. He just kept his intense gaze down on his scarred up knuckles and tattooed hands as if they were the most interesting items in the world.

Gnawing at my already shredded bottom lip, I sighed.
“Look, I know you’re new here, and I know it’s daunting to try and make your way in this place, trust me, I know, but there are some pretty ugly rumours making their way around here. You’re going to need an army to fight the kind of bullshit I’m hearing, but a friend might be a good start.”
The words left my lips in something of a hiss. I hadn’t meant them to sound so harsh, and I immediately regretted my tone as soon as I watched another violent flinch wrack his fragile body, hands tightening to clasp the other even tighter than they had been previously. I had definitely gotten through to him, but god, I wish I had have done it in maybe a gentler way.
With yet another sigh, I shook my head, my unkempt hair falling around my face before I pushed it back again.
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m just trying to help. It’s every man for themselves in this place, but having a pack helps. Remember that.”

Without another harsh word, I pulled myself back to standing and walked my way back to the table surrounded by my shocked friends. I didn’t look back at him, knowing I had done enough damage for one day.


Days blurred into weeks before I even thought of anything I could say to the tan boy. I didn’t even know his name for the longest time, but I soon found out that he was assigned to my group therapy room. As the circle came to him, the staff member running the session spoke one perfect word.

Once again, he didn’t look up. He didn’t even acknowledge her call, and when he didn’t respond she simply left it alone. It struck me as strange when the doctors didn’t push him. Weeks and weeks passed, and they didn’t make him say a word about why he was there. They were not in the business of pussyfooting around big issues, so why would they avoid making him talk about what happened?

Weeks continued to flow by like the river just outside the fence, trapping us in like animals, just out of reach.

Calum still hadn’t spoken to me, no matter how hard I tried to make him. Our routine was almost set in stone now; I’d sit down in front of him, make some kind of comment about the food he would never eat or the weather outside, and he would blatantly ignore me, I would leave to go back to the boys who had stopped even questioning my behaviour. After almost a month and a half of this, my resolve was beginning to wear thin. Of course I didn’t want to give up on him, but I found myself over at his table less and less as the days flew by. I simply stayed and chatted with my boys. I began to lose hope that he would open up to me, and although that idea broke my heart, I knew it was a very real possibility that he wouldn’t open up to anyone.  

But then came the first incident involving the scared soul.

The quiet close of the heavy ward door was what woke me from my slumber, and the pitter patter of light footsteps down the hall was what urged me to climb out of my bunk. Peeking out the door, I couldn’t see much, only what seemed like a figure making their way down the abandoned hallway. I couldn’t make out a fact, or even a distinctive shape. I thought maybe that it was just a nurse checking up on one of the at-risk girls, but no other doors were opened, and the footsteps just seemed to go on forever.

The darkness was dense, and I could barely make out the shape of my own hand as it touched my nose, the only illumination being the light of the moon pouring through my room’s window, and even that was scarce.
A deep breath left my lips as my legs began to carry me down the cold linoleum floor as if on their own accord. I followed behind whoever it was, until they noticed me.
The footsteps stopped and I heard whoever it was draw in a quick and shaky breath.
I ducked into one of the empty rooms, pressing myself back behind the door in hopes that, if it was a doctor or a nurse on a simple bed check, I wouldn’t be punished. Holding my breath, I closed my eyes and hoped for the best as the footsteps began to draw closer and closer to my hiding spot.

“Is that you, Mali…? Please be you…”

The voice that rang our around me was quiet and shaking, a rasp that sounded almost painful to release the words with. It wasn’t the voice of one of the girls, it was too deep, or even a nurse. I’d never heard it before.

Swallowing, I took a deep breath in in order to mask my fear as I carried myself out of my hiding space, the door making a distinct squeaking noise which seemed to startle the figure standing only a few feet away from my own lightly shaking frame. It’s an idiotic idea to follow mysterious footsteps in any case, let alone in a place like this one.

“Who are you?"My voice was far stronger that I thought possible at that point, although it was still riddled with fear and regret that I hadn’t just minded my own business and gone back to the safety of my bed.

"Mali? It’s me… It’s Cal… Please tell me that’s you? I know you’re okay.."The tone was louder now, almost panicked as I heard him whip around to face where the sound had come from

The image of the ever mysterious Calum slumped over at the corner table fell into my mind.
Months later, and no one had any idea why the hell he had just appeared one day. He hadn’t done anything like this before. He wasn’t one to cause trouble. He would just sit quietly and do absolutely nothing. This was the first time I’d ever even seen him out of the mess hall or the therapy rooms.

"No, Calum. I’m not Mali, My name is Y/N. Do  you remember me? I like to think that we’re friends..”
I whispered, hearing a choked noise fall from his throat as I denied the identity of the girl he must have been searching for.

I expected him to maybe explain why he was here, maybe who Mali was, but no, he didn’t say a word, not move a muscle for a few seconds before he displayed the first amount of emotion I had ever seen displayed on his hard and distant features.
He fell against the wall, slid down, and broke into sobs.

“Calum?” I asked, voice slightly more confident now.
It was utterly strange to see him finally showing some kind of emotion, no longer sitting and staring at his interesting knuckles, rather expressing normal human emotion.
He didn’t answer me as I called, only tried his hardest to silence the violent sobs that ripped their way from his cracked lips as they rang out through the lightly illuminated hallway.

With a soft sigh, I slid down the wall beside him, the cold of the linoleum floor making its way through my hospital gown to cool the skin lying beneath it. Carefully, and taking precautions not to touch the fragile Calum sobbing beside me, I knocked on the plaster wall to try and get his scattered mind to focus on me.

“Calum, come on, talk to me.” I whispered, and he finally responded. His head whipped around, revealing two tired and bloodshot eyes staring into my own.

In the scarce moonlight, I was able to get a closer look at him. His lack of eating had definitely taken a toll on him; he was skinny and weak, eyes and cheeks sunken in, bones sticking out sharp enough to see through the thin material of his gown. It was very clear that he hadn’t been sleeping. The bags under his exhausted eyes were almost his most prominent feature. He looked sick, a far cry from what any sane person would class as a healthy human being.

“I saw her… I thought she was dead… I was sure she was dead, I saw the all the blood… I felt her dying in my arms… but I fucking saw her… Mali’s alive.” he muttered through sobs, rendering him almost unintelligible. I was able to make out his words somehow, however.
“Who’s Mali, Calum?” I asked slowly and softly, trying to keep him calm as I reached my hand out to offer a calming embrace. In hindsight, I probably should have seen how stupid of an idea that was.

He violently ripped himself from my grip, letting out a screech as he shrank back into himself, curling up into a shaking and screaming ball. His shrieks  were deafening, nothing I had heard a human release, and nothing I could have ever seen coming from his throat when I would look at him.

“They lied to me! I didn’t kill her! She’s alive! My sister is alive! I didn’t fucking kill her!”
His inhuman screams quickly awoke the other girls in the ward, and alerted the nurses on duty to the scene unfolding in front of me.
Calum dragged his overgrown nails and slightly dirty down his arm, the sensitive skin turning an blistering and angry red under the intense and sudden assault. Blood seeped through the new cracks in his skin, morbidly decorating his one blank arm.

“Calum, stop!” I cried, jumping forward to pull his hands away from his skin, but instead he just swiped at me, breaking the skin of my forearm and leaving an almost perfect claw mark down my arm as little dots of blood began to break through the surface of the aggravated skin.

I fell back in pure shock at his strange attack, but didn’t get all too much time to comprehend what had happened right in front of me as nurses swamped the scene. The blinding light of the fluorescent bulbs in the ward shined down into my eyes, illuminating the dull area of the hallway. The white walls had been gruesomely decorated with the blood Calum had drawn from himself with his inhumanly long nails, and the dotted linoleum floor make a violent squeak as the scared teenager standing in front of me tried his best to make some form of an escape.

Four nurses, at least from what I saw, did their very best to calm the thrashing and panicking Calum, until one of them decided that there was only one way that they could calm him enough to drag him out of the foreign ward that he had snuck into. Within seconds, Calum’s screams were dying down as he began losing consciousness, falling limp to the floor with a syringe in his neck, a small portion of the red tranquilizing liquid still resting in the chamber of the needle.

One of the older nurses helped me up, the stern look on her face softening as she noticed my bleeding arm and shaking form. She was a kink lady who had seemed to take a liking to me over the almost year I had been housed here.
“Are you alright, Y/N? How did he get in here?” She asked, but I couldn’t form words in any form. My mind was so scattered. My first real contact with Calum left me maybe even believing some of the boys’ crazy stories. Maybe he was really crazy.

“Y/N. Y/N? Are you alright, sweetheart?”
Her familiar voice brought me out of my own head and back into the real world.
“I-I’m okay…” I managed, voice shaky and weak as my eyes drifted down to the blood quickly drying into the hair on my arm. I picked at the dried red substance, and it flaked off with ease.
“I’ll get that cleaned up and take you back to your room, alright? We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She told me, helping me into the office of the ward and into the sterile and hardly used first aid room. It smelt of rubbing alcohol and gauze bandages, as well as disinfectant and some other cleaning products that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

No words were exchanged between the two of us as she cleaned my bleeding arm and bandaged it tightly, leading me back down the once again darkened hall to my small room. I could feel all the curious and judging eyes of the other girls, watching me out the creaky doors of their ward rooms and hiding from the elder nurse escorting me. I felt naked and vulnerable under their stares, not even sure what that happened to me that night.

I settled back into the warm sheets of my bed, but my eyes didn’t want to close. All I could see was Calum, scared and screaming for his sister; vulnerable. The first time I’d ever seen him express any kind of emotion, and he’d let me into what seemed like a large part of why he was here.

A restless and ultimately useless sleep did finally grace my exhausted body just as the sun slowly began to shine its first gentle rays just over the hills behind the large building that housed all of us. I tossed and turned all night, the thought of the scared Calum I knew, screaming for his sister, ringing in my ears all through the night.

My Turn

Anon: Hello can you write a smut where Dan has to be submissive and he’s really vocal like she has him begging pls? Love your writing :)

Word Count: 3508


Tonight, in short, was total shit. All I wanted was to stay home, drink a little maybe, and just hangout with Dan, but he decided on some very different plans. Just…let me explain.

It started with him inviting me out with him and some of his You Tuber friends out to a local club. He knows how much I hated human interaction, but I went for him, you see, because I’m a good girlfriend: a good partner. He could learn a few lessons from me.

Anyway, so I went with him. I dressed in a tight-fitted, low cut dress, for him of course, with a pair of high stilettoes. I curled my hair and put on makeup and everything. He dressed up as well, wearing a tie and button up shirt, looking incredibly handsome.

Immediately when we arrived, I headed to the bar, trying to get drunk out of my pants. Don’t get me wrong, Phil and Carrie and Alex and Zoey and Louise and whoever else was there are nice people, I just really don’t like going out on a Saturday I intended to stay at home for.

So, I basically wiped out the bar in my attempt to physiologically escape from the monstrous crowd of people. After a while, I went looking for Dan, because a girl and her boyfriend should be together right? Yeah, not really what Dan thought.

I look over to find some nasty, slutty skank drunk out of her pants, and well pretty much Dan’s. She was feeling him up and flirting, oh and not to mention putting her tongue down my boyfriend’s throat. Wait, did I mention he let her? Hm, don’t you just love boys?

I was about to slap all the piles of makeup and spit off her face, when I stopped myself from looking like a drunken fool. I just stood there in distraught, not heartbreak-just anger. Dan looked up, wearing a stupid oblivious look on his face as he looked at me. I was glued to the floor, wanting and not wanting to move. He started to run towards me but I was already gone. I ran back to our shared apartment, not looking back.

This leaves me to where I am now, sitting here on my couch waiting for Dan to come back with lipstick on his cheek and a perfume stained shirt that wasn’t mine. I’m not crying, not screaming, not even worrying. All I feel is, well possessive. Dan’s mine, not hers. He’s mine and no one else’s. She could never give him what he wants-at least not as good as me. He wants passion? Well, I could give him that, and only me.

Finally, I hear the door open quickly and his heavy footsteps running up the steps.

“Y/N?” He yells, acting as if he’s sorry. “Y/N, please.” When he reaches the top, he finds me there, just sitting on the couch lying back casually. My face isn’t stained with ugly mascara lines and my eyes aren’t red from crying-but from passion. I was mad at him of course, but seeing him there with messy hair and a half buttoned shirt kind of turned me on. That seemed to piss me off more as I tried to control my lust towards him. I decided to play it cool-flirtatious actually.

“Hey sweetheart.” I answer in sweet tone, which catches him off guard. I get up from my spot and slowly start to walk over to him as he stands still. His face is mixed with bewilderment, but still horniness. When I reach him, he is up against the wall, looking down at me with confusion and what I think is fear. He is scared of me. Dan Howell is scared of me, and he should be. “Oh, what’s the matter darling?” I ask, bringing my hand up to his cheek with alcohol-reeked breath blowing into his face. “Did that bitch make you feel good baby?” I paused waiting for an answer. “Hmm?” I ask, trying to get a reaction. He stands there, in shock, probably not even hearing what I’m saying. Still, no response and I can feel the anger slowly contort to lust and euphoria. I move my hand down to his neck and clench my nails into his skin, making him yelp out in pain. “Well, honey, I can make you feel better.”

With that, I crash my lips into his harshly, still attached to his neck. He is surprised at first, but eventually kisses me back. We roam each other’s mouths almost violently as he guides his hands all over my body. I bite his upper lip and he moans. I take the opportunity to stop and bring my lips up to his ear to whisper, “Get to the bedroom.”

He slides himself from under me and walks down the hall, looking back still confused. I laugh to myself as I watch him slip into our bedroom down the hall. I head to the bathroom, excited about the sudden change of plans.

I look in the mirror and can’t recognize the person staring back at me. She is fierce and dark and…sexy. My eyes were burning with anger and jealousy and my body was still, yet stern. I’m beautiful, I think to myself. Look, I’m strong and confident and anyone would be crazy to not want me, anyone like Dan. I didn’t need to prove it, but show it. It’s my turn.

I strip off my own dress leaving me in my lacy black lingerie. The lingerie I wore for Dan; wait no, not Dan, but me. I ruffle up my hair with my hands and spray on some perfume. I’m almost breathless from my appearance. I look confident as I watch my long hair hug my figure and the underwear stretch and decorate my tanned skin. I finally open the bathroom door, walking to my awaiting, and probably horny, boyfriend aching for me. I open the bedroom door slowly and find Dan, sitting on the bed, struggling to unbutton his shirt furiously. He looks up and quickly becomes flabbergasted by me. I make him feel this way, me and only me.

“Do you need help baby?” I ask flirtatiously. He just nods and I giggle. I walk over to him slowly and lower myself onto his lap, making sure to flash him some cleavage. I sit right on top of his crotch and feel how hard he is already. I smile and begin to slowly unbutton his shirt, pulling out each button painfully slow. I see him bite his lip as I go to bite and suck at his neck, leaving my mark. Suddenly, I feel his hands clutch my ass and I pull back in response.

“No touching unless I say so.” I warned, looking straight into his eyes. He nodded, but that wasn’t enough. I tug on his shirt harshly, waiting for a proper response. “Got it?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers.

I continue working at his neck and I can hear him moan and pant at my touch. I start to move my hips against his, developing hot friction between us. I move my body in an elegant s-shape, thankful for my dancing abilities. I grind onto him, playing soft music in my head to match my movements. My panties start to soak through as his hard on rubs against my clit. I finally finish with his shirt and drag my hands up his naked chest to his neck, where his tie is. I detach from his soft, sensitive neck and whip my hair to one side. I take his tie in my hands and stroke it a couple times in thought, not even looking at Dan. “You know what?” I ask rhetorically. “Let’s keep this on.” He smirks at the same time I do so I connect our lips back together again. He moves his kisses down to my neck and I figure this is my cue to take off his pants. I waste no time and in a matter of seconds, his pants and boxers are at his ankles. I spot his erection and smirk at the work I’ve done like a proud artist after completing a painting.

I lower myself down onto my knees as he sits on the bed. He opens up his legs, begging to be touched. I softly stroke his cock, hardly even touching it with my fingertips. He whimpers, but it’s still not enough. “What do you want Dan?” I ask darkly. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to suck me off.” He moans. I put my hands on his knees and pull myself up so we are face to face.

“Beg.” I whisper, as I almost get lost in his dark brown eyes.

“Oh god, please Y/N, I need you. I need you to touch me. I need your soft lips to wrap around my cock and lick me up and down. I need you to take all of me in your mouth and make me cum.” He cries out, falling lower and lower into submission. I can see the satisfying agony in his face and I can hear it in his sultry voice.

I smile, pleased with his words and lower myself back down so I am eye-level with his throbbing cock. I take it again in my hands, gripping it a little tighter than before. I move my hand slowly up and down his length, to get him a little more excited. I dance my fingertips along his smooth thigh, making him beg even more. I start to kiss his thighs softly and lovingly, inching closer and closer there. After what seemed like eternity, I finally connect my lips to his tip, making him moan out and arch his back. He puts his hands behind him, hoisting himself up so he doesn’t break. I kiss up and down, not actually putting him in my mouth yet.

I decide he’s behaved well enough, so I wrap my delicate lips around his tip, making him shudder. I slowly sink my lips down further and further, making his dick disappear into my mouth. I hollow out my cheeks and suck in, tasting his precum against my taste buds. He tastes sweet, and I can’t help but want more. I bob my head up and down on him, making him moan loudly. I watch him grip the sheets so tight; his knuckles turn white in desperation. I bring my long fingers up to his balls, and slowly massage them, something I’ve learned he goes absolutely berserk for. I move my head at a fast pace; making him hit the back of my throat. I moan against him, making the sound vibrate off of him, and he almost annihilates. His pleas and moans become more frequent by the second and I decide he’s had enough for now.

Right before I was about to detach myself from him, he makes a horribly false move. Blinded by the fog of ecstasy, he brings his fingers up to my hair, and grabs tightly, making me pull back in anger. I get face to face with him, and I can tell he knows he’s in trouble.

“What did I say Dan?”

“I-I’m sorry.” He petitions as the fear once again creeps into his eyes.

“Do you know what happens to good boys who don’t behave?” I pause, wondering into his fear-stricken eyes, “They get punished.” I say firmly. I grab his tie from around his neck and untie it, securing his wrists to the bedpost, making him plea in response.

“This is what happens when you are a bad boy Dan. Now, lay down, it’s my turn.” He does as he told, as he lies straight on his back, his wrists still bound to the bed. I take off my underwear and position myself slowly above his mouth. I anchor my legs on either side of his body, making him admire his view. Then finally, I lower myself down onto his awaiting mouth. As soon as I make contact, his tongue begins to explore my folds, making me moan out. He goes slowly at first, covering every inch of my sex, cautious of what will happen if he misbehaves again. I grind on his face, silently begging him to go faster. He understands, and wraps his entire mouth on me while poking his tongue in and out. I hold on to the bedpost, trying to keep myself composed. I grind faster and when he hits my clit, I almost loose it. I cry out, asking him to go faster: deeper. His tongue goes into overdrive, licking at my dripping core making me whimper. Finally, he hits it. That once spot that never fails and I orgasm spontaneously, making a wet mess all over him. I tilt my head back, overwhelmed by the electric current that ripples through my body. My legs feel numb and match the rest of my body, as my senses and adrenaline go fanatic. I move myself up from him, expecting him to want some air, and I lower myself down, so my ass is touching his erection. I rest my bare chest onto his, and I can feel the zealous beating of his heart. We meet face to face, and I kiss him passionately on the lips, awarding him for his actions.

“Good boy Dan.” I whisper to him. “Now…I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days.”

Then, with that, I insert him into me, and we both pant in response. I sit up and start to move up then back down, riding him softly. His hands are still above his head, and I know he wants to touch. That he needs to touch me. I can decipher in his eyes, he needs to hold me, to embrace me. The frustration and the crave in his eyes are not difficult to see. I was just about to untie him when I remember that this is his punishment, and nothing less. I place my hands on his chest, and feel the rapid beating of his heart, as I start to bounce up and down on him. He stares at my bouncing breasts and I smile in confidence. We lock eyes, and I figure this is the perfect time to talk dirty.

“Do you like that Dan?” I moan out, and take my breasts in my hands.

“Yeah, my god, I do.” He whispers, hardly able to speak.

“Yeah, you like it when I ride you up and down on your cock, making you feel good huh?”

“Oh god, yes.” He moans out. “Y/N please, let me touch you, I need to.” I knew it.

“Sorry Dan, this is your punishment baby.” I say, trying very hard to speak. The conversation soon sends when he hits my g-spot, making me scream.

“Mhh, god right there.” I whimper. My thighs start to burn and I’m finding it hard to keep going. Dan figures it out, and meets his hips to mine, cueing me for a break. He pumps furiously, desperately trying to reach me to my approaching orgasm. The clap of our bodies entangled together is enough to send me over the edge. I pant and lay my hands back down on his torso, finding that it was the only thing that I can use to let out the passion flowing through my veins. I dig harshly into his pale chest, overwhelmed by the powering feeling finally surfacing to its maximum potential. I lean my head back, letting my hair tickle my lower back as I stare up at the spinning ceiling.

With one final movement, I orgasm again, letting myself loose control and scream at the top of my lungs. My eyes water and my entire body stings from the salacity suffocating the room. My lungs blaze and crave oxygen and I find my breath is literally taken away from me. My whole body shivers and convulses and I swear my legs are twitching. I bite my bottom lip so hard I taste blood. Euphoria courses through my blood, my bones, my skin. Chills elope me, physical proof of the weakening lasciviousness conquering me, killing me softly.

Soon after, Dan peaks to his highest breaking point, grunting and growling in the process. He digs his nails into his palms, leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. His chest rises and relaxes to the rhythm of his breaths. I find it hard to even sit up but I manage to lower myself onto his chest, resting on him while he is still inside of me. I rest my head right below his chin and turn my head to the side, closing my eyes and trying to decelerate my heartbeat. I close my eyes and loose myself in the world of lust and rest. I soon remember that Dan is still tied up and below me. I pull my self up and out of him and untangle his wrists from the bed. I lay down next to his side, holding on to his wrists. I remove the tie and find red marks on his skin. I run my fingers gently over them, observing yet another mark I’ve made.

“Sorry.” I whisper, still watching his wrists. I decide to look up and find Dan staring at me in fascination and curiosity. I raise my eyebrow and ask,


“Why are you apologizing?” He whispers.

I hesitate, and become confused at his question. “Because I hurt you.” I whisper back.

“No, I hurt you.” He whispers back and I can feel the hurt and sincerity in his voice.


“No-please” He interrupts harshly. “I shouldn’t have done that. I betrayed you and hurt you and, god, I’m such a dick.” He says, scolding himself.

“Dan, come one, no you didn’t-”

He suddenly pulls himself up swiftly, stopping my sentence. “Yes I did! I mean, how could I do that? You are the one and only person who I love more than life itself and I fucking- I mean- I just left and-” He scrambled trying to find words to say to me. I sit up and kiss him straight on his lips, ending the stuttering. I hold his face in my hands and kiss him with not passion or desire, just forgiveness and love. I open my eyes and slowly leave my lips from his and stare straight into his eyes.

“Dan, listen. I love you to the moon and back and there is nothing you could do for me to ever stop. I’ll always be here, and I’ll always love you. Okay?” I say softly.

He reconnects our lips and holds my bare body against his. When he separates, he looks at me and simply answers “Okay.”

He pulls me close as we disappear into the paradise of sheets and love, holding each other like we would never see each other again. After endless kisses and smiles, I explore the deep, wonderful state of sleep, never wanting to leave his side, and never wanting to let go.

I realize that love wouldn’t be anything without the fighting or the jealousy or the anger. It wouldn’t be love, just oblivion. How can you ever experience the good when there is no bad? I don’t want simplicity or clear skies everyday. I needed the screaming and confusion. I needed the fire and tears. Anyone could live with just smiles and warmth, and I didn’t want to just be anyone. I wanted love and everything that comes with it. Because, when you have someone that loves you, there will be someone who hates you. When there is someone who wants you, there will be someone who doesn’t. Life is filled with opposites and without opposites, how would we know what anything feels like, or looks like, or seems like? Without sadness, how could we distinguish happiness? Without left, which way would we know is right? Without one opinion, how could another one be proven wrong or right? Without women, where would man be? It may seem as if opposites didn’t exist, life would be easier. There would be no arguments or differences. But without them, life would not be life. Life would be plain, and one-sided, and closed-minded. There would be no fuel to inspire or desire to change. And change, is the scariest of them all. Whether good or bad, change is one of the most powerful forces on the planet. It can mean the difference between life and death: love or hate. Dan is my opposite; he is my love. He is my change and my anger. He is my hate and my right. Without him, I could not live, or at least know what leaving really means. It is my turn to live and be happy. It is my turn to argue and to change. It is my turn to love and be loved, and I couldn’t be any luckier to find my opposite.

*Woot Woot female domination! Yeah thanks for the request btw, I love female empowerment I’m a huge ass feminist. If you wanna check out my other fics, you can go here, and that would be hella amazing. Also, I’m currently a co-writer for fantasic-smut, so you can check that out if you wish. As always, send me requests, ideas, or just ask me questions and i will love you lots! Bye bye crazies with the daisies (???) and i will see you soon!

you've got a hold on me (and I won't disagree)

title: you’ve got a hold on me (and I won’t disagree)
pairing: suga/jungkook
summary: au. Taehyung On A Mission is impossible to stop.
note: this is dedicated to all the sugakookie fans. the thirst is real. 

Jungkook knows Taehyung means well, but this is beginning to get ridiculous.

Keep reading


This… took an unexpected turn. HAHA!

It’ll still be be part of a compilation for my College AUs, so I hope that you like it!


Going to college changes people. 

For one, the amount of nutrients people need daily are probably cut in half. Instant ramen and packs of chips suffice as daily meals, and coffee will probably taste like water, given a couple of weeks.   

Another drastic change would be eyes getting used to looking at tablets or Kindle screens for hours on end. Prefer paper books over ebooks? Well, they better have a hundred dollars ready if they’re not willing to sacrifice their 20/20 vision!   

Oh, and was it mentioned that consuming a particular amount of alcohol (in liters) meant having the equivalent of that in hours of sleep?  Drank a bottle of vodka? Well, that’s an hour of sleep! Good job. 

This was only the starting list for Percy Jackson, first year Marine Biology, who was on an athletic scholarship for his competitive swimming in CHB University. He knew he should be taking care of his body for the sake of his record times—but the readings and the training and the constant need to be socially active… 

Percy groaned into an odd smelling throw pillow on the library sofa. He just needed a break from this horribly boring reading on the anatomy of sea urchins that he would probably never need in his life. Not a nap break, though—if he closed his eyes for too long, he was certain he would sleep for ten years. Hangovers did that to you. Why he would drink on a Friday night knowing he had a test the next afternoon, he didn’t know.   

Percy exhaled, rubbed his temples, and locked the screen of his tablet. He tucked it into his backpack, safe and sound under a study desk, and decided to take a brisk walk outside, now that the rain seemed to stop temporarily. Snapping on his cap, he pushed the doors that exited the library and began a slow jog to the park on the other side of the campus. Unfortunately, his need to procrastinate led him to the outskirts of the university, near the sketchy roads by the forest. As his head throbbed and his pulse beat loudly against his ears, Percy paused by a stop sign and threw up into the bushes. He slumped by the post and squatted, exhausted by his fruitless exploits. Oh gods. And to think… He had training after the test. 

The sun burnt his neck as he slumped, but a shadow covered his nape after a few moments of sulking. Confused, Percy Jackson looked up. He felt his eyes widen as he was certain he had glanced upon an angel.   

It was hard to really look at her face against the sun, but he could see enough to get his heart back up to over a hundred.   

Blonde hair was tucked nicely into a ponytail that escaped a cap. Her skin was golden and tan, a few sun spots showering the tops of her bare shoulders and thighs. She was also wearing a trendy sports bra and cycling shorts, but that was beside his point.   

She was beautiful.

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Requested Shawn Mendes Imagine

Oh my god. I am SOSOSOSOSOOO surprised by how many likes Cam and Shawn got on their imagines. I am also bouncing off the walls of my room because you guys are making my life right now. I love you guys so much, so do request! I will be working on Shawn’s and Cam’s part two of their first imagines, so watch out for that!


            “I don’t get why he hasn’t kissed me yet,” you complained to your best friend as you got ready for your 3rd date with Shawn.

            “Y/N, you’re over-“

            “I’m not overreacting, guys normally kiss on the first date. What if he doesn’t like me?” you faced your friend after slipping on white shorts and a teal sleeveless blouse with tan sandals. She looked up at you with mock horror, “What if he’s taking you on this date to tell you that he thinks your ugly and boring?” she gasped.

            You threw a shoe at her and she laughed, “This is serious! I really like this guy,”

            Her laughter died down, “You guys are going to the drive-in, cuddle up to him. He’s probably taking you because it’ll be easier to kiss you,”

            You nodded. She was right. If Shawn wanted to, all he had to do was stop talking to you, he’s probably just nervous. But why was he nervous? He was gorgeous. Thick brown hair, light brown eyes and a tall figure with muscular arms that folded around your body and made you feel safe. When the doorbell rang, you walked downstairs and left your friend in your room. You guys always did this, when one had a date the other would sleepover and wait for them to get home to talk about the details.

            “Relax, Y/N!” Your friend called out right before you opened the door and came face to face with Shawn.

            He smiled, “Hey, you look gorgeous.”

            You blushed, “Thank you,” As you went to grab your purse, Shawn stopped you. “You don’t need it,”

            “You sure?” You asked. You always brought your purse with you, you could never be too sure if the boy you were on the date with, would pay for everything.

            “Yeah,” He smiled and reached for your hand, “Come on, we don’t want to be late,”

            You smiled and hesitantly took his hand, letting him lead you to the truck, he was borrowing from a friend. You guys were at a stop light when Shawn reached between you guys and pulled up the seat between you guys, that could be used as a cup holder and arm rest or a seat, and grasped the inside of your thigh and pulled you towards him. You folded your leg, so it wouldn’t get in the way of him and his driving, and put your head against his shoulder, loving the way his finger tips danced along the skin of your thigh. It surprised you at how forward he was being, but you weren’t complaining.

            You loved the drive-in and couldn’t wait to watch your favorite movie, Crazy Stupid Love, but you hoped you could enjoy it. Shawn hadn’t seemed that excited to see that movie, when he told you about it, but when you told him it was your favorite, he turned to excited. The fact that he hasn’t kissed  you or made any moves signaling that he wanted to kiss you, you didn’t know where your relationship was going, and it was bothering the hell out of you.

            “You okay? You’re awfully quiet,” Shawn noted  quietly.

            “I’m sorry,” You said, “It’s nothing.”

            Shawn shifted slightly, so you lifted your head and found him glancing between the road and you, “You know you can tell me anything right?”

            You smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it, but thank you,” before you leaned over and pressed a small kiss to his smooth cheek.

            He blushed and nodded. You guys soon found the perfect spot, you also bought popcorn and soda at the food stand. When you climbed back into the dark blue truck, he didn’t give you much of a choice on whether you were cuddling or not, he placed the food and drink on the dashboard and pulled you towards him. His hand on your thigh, and your leg bent and resting on his, your head touched his shoulder and his head touched the top of yours. You took a deep breath and breathed in his faint smelling cologne as the movie began. You guys stayed like this until halfway through the movie, you tensed up at the part of Emma Stone kissing Ryan Gosling because you wanted Shawn to kiss you like that.

            “Whatever is clouding your mind, get rid of it,” Shawn said without moving.

            Ugh Fuck it- you said in your head and moved away from him so your back was against the passenger door. Shawn watched you quizzically as you spoke, “Do you like me?”

            Shawn placed his arm on the back of the seat, “Of course I do,”

            “No Shawn, like like-like,” You sighed.

            His eyebrows scrunched together. “I really like-like you,”

            “Then why haven’t you kissed me?!” You asked with wide eyes.

            Shawn sighed and suddenly you felt like an idiot for bringing it up. “Does it really bother you that much?”

            You sighed and ung your head, examining your just painted nails, “Kind of,” You mumbled.

            Shawn huffed with a laugh and come to sit with your legs in his lap, your back still against the door. “Y/N, look at me,” You did as told. He was going to end it because you’re an idiot. “I haven’t kissed you because I really like you, Y/N. I don’t want our relationship to revolve around sex. You’re beautiful, Y/N. Don’t get me wrong, I really want to kiss you, but im not only in this for the sexual aspect, I’m in this for the long run.”

            You tilted your head to the right and smiled slightly, you felt your neck and cheeks heat up and redden.  “Really?”

            He smiled at your red face. He was dying to kiss you, you were beautiful to him. He saw no flaws and wanted you to be his, today and 5 years from now. “Yeah,”

            You smiled down at your lap when his pointer finger and thumb touched your chin and made you look up at him. Shawn leaned in so slowly. Painfully slow. The tip of his nose touched yours, then his lips butterfly kissed yours. His fingers laced in your hair right before his lips touched yours firmly. You felt your heart, soar. Your stomach twisted up and your fingers gripped his shirt when his lips moved against yours. The movie faded out as the kiss went on with his lips moving against your slowly and passionately. His tongue licked your bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, he let it go with a faint ‘popping’. You sucked in a deep breath as you looked at Shawn, he smiled as you whispered, “So worth the wait,”

            Shawn laughed and pecked your lips before turning back to the movie.

We Asked Twenty Strangers To Kiss For The First Time xx

AU/one shot inspired by this manip x by x

Harry is asked by his exes friend, and film student Zayn, to help him with his final exam project. 

Or the one where Harry meets Louis and they’re both asked to kiss for the first time when they’ve never met each other before. 

word count: 7711                 pairings: HS/LT

warnings: language, lots of fluff, there’s kissing in it. (self explanatory.)

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Water and Flame

@drarrysgirl ;)

All eight years share one dorm. There aren’t many returning students, so they share one room for all the boys, one for all the girls and a small common room in between.
This is where Draco wakes up from a particularly strange nightmare. Well, from ‘the strange nightmare’ actually.
Its starts with the sensation of pooling water, collecting all around his body. At first it’s nice, like being in a bath or wading in a pool, but everything is dark. Everything is dark and then with a sudden intake of breath Draco realizes, he is dying. The cool hardness of tile below him, water splashes by his side and he hears frantic “No! No! I didn’t-” All too quickly the blood turned into flames and he was burning, he was dying and everything around him was hot, hot ash, filling up his nose and lungs. A hand danced before him, yet every time he tried to reach out for it, it danced out of reach and once again he was dying.
When Draco wakes up this time he doesn’t mind so much. Everyone here gets nightmares, it isn’t like it was the first month or so back, where everyone tried to hide it. It’d had all ended one night when Thomas had gotten up sighed exasperatingly and gotten into Finnegan’s bed where he proceeded to soothe him back to sleep. They’d shared the same bed every night since and since then no one has had to hide their nightmares from anyone else.
Draco got up and went to the bathrooms directly opposite the door. He liked to shower afterwards, afterwards he just felt so wound up. Tonight he had a hot shower, tonight the memory of Myrtle’s bathroom got to him more, other nights he’d cool off from the Fiendfyre by sitting under the cold. Some nights neither worked.
He put the water up high, until it burnt, turning his pale skin red. His eyes felt like they’d been crying, puffy even under the flow of the water. He arched his back, stretching into the glorious heat of the water. He should stay here, under the water forever. He tilted his head back, craning his neck to allow more water, more heat, more…
A noise startled him, by the door. He wasn’t exactly modest, boarding school stripped that away, so he stood there in all his nudity.
When he noticed just who the intruder to his shower was he wished he had covered up.
“I’ll just-” He mumbled, fumbling with the taps forgetting just which way they went. “I’ll go. I uh- OH SHIT!” Suddenly the water was really, really, really cold and he was immediately shivering.
“Here,” Harry said, coming over to the taps to turn them off. “Fuck that’s cold!”
Draco nodded in return, holding a hand over his penis, leaving as quickly as possible as one could whilst trying not to look at the Savior in only his trunks.
The next night Draco woke up with tears in his eyes. He tried to wipe them away but found himself breaking down completely, holding onto his eyes with the heel of each palm. Wiping excess tears with his inner wrists.
He had a cold shower that night and found himself crying again before he was done. Just as he had turned off the taps and wrapped himself up with his towel, Potter had come in again.
“You alright?” He asked, giving him a backward glance.
“Yeah, fine thanks.” Draco replied roughly. When he went back to sleep, it was dreamless.

The next night Harry was already there, showering in his full glory and Draco gaped for a while before turning to leave him to it.
“What is it for you?”
“Excuse me?” Draco cries too suddenly for himself to reign in.
“For me, it’s the night my godfather died. Sometimes it’s all the bodies after it was all over looking back at me, like I didn’t do it all fast enough to save them.” Harry explained, rubbing sudsy soap up and down his chest.
“It’s okay, it’s private, I get it.” Harry cut in quickly, looking back down at what he was doing, letting water soak water all over his messy hair, smoothing it out somewhat. Draco couldn’t help but find it distracting.
“It’s uh, it’s actually. Um… “ Draco trails. Harry catches him with a glance, he doesn’t look much different without his glasses on but the green in his eyes pierce him, tethering him to the spot. “You-actually.” Draco spits.
Harry’s glance sharpens accusingly for a moment. Draco gestures to his chest with his stray hand, hopelessly. He watches Harry glance down at the mess of scars on his chest and blanch a little when he understands.
“It um, starts in the bathroom and I’m dying. Shivering, cold and wet. And then it all turns on it’s ass and I’m in the fiendfyre again.” He explains whilst refusing to meet his green gaze, letting a moment pass before adding: “Except you don’t come for me this time.”
Harry doesn’t say anything, all that can be heard is the drip of the water. So awkwardly Draco fidgets with the water of the shower stall closest to him, adjusting the water to a nice normal warmth. “I used to dream about all of it but this one it’s reoccurring, that’s all.”
Harry nods and picks up a bottle of hair stuffs.
Draco removes his towel and steps into the water, trying not to feel self-conscious as he washes himself.
As Draco washes himself he keeps a paranoid eye on Potter, who he notices is um, very uh. Naked and wet and, well attractive okay? He watches the muscles in his arms contract as he holds them above his head, washing the shampoo out of his hair. Whenever he even thinks Potter is making way to look back over he averts his gaze back down to himself.
He’s pale, too pale. So unlike the tanned warm skin Potter has and suddenly he’s ogling again. The shower stall walls are small and cut out much of his view but as Potter turns and moves and stretches under the water, he gets a look at the curve of Potter’s arse and Draco’s burning up all over again.
Draco set out to wash his hair, his products sitting against the ledge of the stall wall, in reaching for his own shampoo he catches sight of his Dark Mark, faded and ugly against his skin and he’s ashamed all over again. Shamed and embarrassed, and freaked out. Nervous almost. He can’t breathe with this think imprinted across his skin, he does all he can not to start scratching at it. He can’t believe himself. How could he let this happen? How did he let this happen to him?
He realizes in the back of his mind, that he’s not really breathing properly, to the point a burning ache crawls its way into his chest and his throat is hurting.
He’s gasping, he knows but all he can see is this fucking Dark Mark and it’s so apart of him now, a Death Eater is all he’s going to be. He’s never going to amount to anything ever anymore, because this ugly rotting piece of shit is going to remind everyone of what he did, what he had to do, forever!
By the time Harry reaches him, he registers he’s dropped down in huddle on the floor. He’s hugging to cool tile of the wall, letting it soothe him and he steadies his breathing. He feels Harry clutch at his hands but he wants to push him away. Harry shakes him by the forearms and Draco sobs in reply.
“It’ll never come off, Harry. It’ll never come off ever. And there’s nothing I can do about it ever!” Draco cries, the back of his mind registers that he’s being melodramatic but it’s the truth and a darker part of him wishes he had died in that fire.
Potter looks down at the Dark Mark and Draco let’s out a ragged sob when he does. Panic settles in his chest and he wants to leave, to run away to anywhere. Why does Potter have to be here of all places? He settles for looking away from him, up to the showerhead, the wall of the stall.
Wait, they’re in the showers. Draco is naked. Harry is naked!
Draco scrambles upward suddenly, letting a big breathe enter him finally.
“Are you alright?” Harry echoes from the night before.
“None of us are alright Potter, don’t you get that?” Draco sighs, collecting his towel and wrapping himself with it once again, fuck washing his damn hair.
“You called me Harry earlier,” Potter has the nerve to say.
Draco looks back at him, his gaze magnetically finding his penis, his decent penis, before meeting Harry’s beseeching face. “Goodnight, Harry.”
Draco gets shaken awake by Harry the next night and he can’t figure out why for a moment. “Oh, Bellatrix had Granger.” He whispers to himself before turning to Harry. “I was screaming wasn’t I?”
Harry looks at him strangely before nodding. Behind him a few of the other had woken up, rolling over as if this were no new occurrence. It wasn’t. Nights were often broken up by someone or other thrashing about.
“Cheers,” Draco said, struggling away a yawn. He pulled his blankets back up over himself as Potter returned to his own bed.
“No problems Draco.”
Wait, what.

The next night isn’t a nightmare at all, it’s lovely, it’s ecstasy, it’s- FUCK.
Draco wakes up with a wet bed. A wet bed at eighteen are you fucking kidding. He was an adult for fuck’s sake.
He spells the bed clean, he spells himself clean but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough so he goes to the shower to get cleaned properly but Harry’s in there and he’s wanking with his back against a shower stall.
“Shit sorry!” Draco cries, and runs out of the bathroom but with the vision of Harry wanking burnt into the back of his brain as well as the look on his face when he knows he’s been caught in surprise.
Draco doesn’t sleep well for the whole rest of the night. He fakes his sleep as Harry returns to his own bed. It isn’t until he’s heard the tell tale sign of Harry’s small snore that Draco lies on his back once more and wonders exactly “What the fuck?”

The next night, Draco sleeps all the way through to morning.

The fire climbs higher and higher this time and as he reaches out all he can see is his own Dark Mark baring the way. The hand that comes down to save him, Harry’s hand, recoils from it and Draco falls back into the flames. Draco isn’t breathing. Draco isn’t breathing.
Warm hands shake him awake again.
“Draco! Draco!” Harry is whispering to him.
“What, what?!” Draco whispers harshly back.
“You were thrashing about, you… you had me worried!” Harry whispered with conviction.
Draco pushed Harry off of him, grabbing his shower things from ontop of his Hogwarts trunk, marching to the bathroom, his cock half hard.
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed.
“Don’t call me that!” Draco sighed.
“Why? You call me Harry don’t you?” Harry argued.
“Everyone calls you Harry!” Draco snaps back half heartedly, turning the water on, cold. He needed a cold shower in every way.
Harry stepped closer to him, “Draco, Draco, Draco.”
“Fuck off Potter!” Draco grumbled, removing his shirt, organizing his shampoo and his conditioner against the shower stall shelf.
“Draco…” Harry whispered, coming up behind him, his lips mere centimetres from the shell of his ear.
Draco shivers at this.
“Draco…” Harry repeats, edging closer till his heat wraps around Draco. Snaking his arms around Draco’s hips, reaching down finding Draco’s erection there. Sighing, “Draco!” As if in relief.
“Draco-draco-draco-draco-draco-draco…” He mumbles like prayer, his forehead resting against the knob of Draco’s neck. He strokes Draco languidly, a slow murderous tug of his cock and Draco groans loudly, loling his head back until it finds Harry’s shoulder there.
“Harry!” He whimpers back and it’s all Harry needs to hear before peppering kisses up and down Draco’s neck. He strokes Draco once more, keeping a slow pulsing rhythm in time with the suckles he flourishes against his neck. “Oh! Harry!” He cries.
At this Harry let’s go for a second, only to spin him against the tiled wall. Throwing Draco’s hands against the wall, he meets him in the middle, their tongues clashing with need. Harry squeezes his grip on one arm, the arm with the Dark Mark Draco and upon realizing this, he tries to break free from him. “Don’t!” Harry warns, “This. This mark. This mark doesn’t make you.”
Draco can’t think of a thing to say, instead he muffles all his emotion by his Harry fervently. Moving their mouths together, nipping sucking and mouthing over the corners of each other, Draco breaks away only for air and to tell Harry “Clothes off. Now.”
Harry complies.
Oh Merlin. Golden Boy indeed. Harry’s angry red cock standing at attention is enticing, it’s everything Draco has in him at that moment not to drop to his knees in awe of it but Draco has other plans.
He reaches around himself and teases his hole, in full view of Harry. He pulls a leg up on the empty stall ledge for access and wiggles it inside. Using the wetness of the shower to help.
Harry rushed him, pulling Draco’s hips to his own, wordlessly and wandlessly summoning something from the other room. Oh lube!
Harry coat his fingers and helps, together fingering Draco, both desperate to get him ready.
Draco kisses Harry again and Harry almost forgets what he’s doing from the sheer passion of it, his finger half falling from their place inside Draco. He pulls closer to Draco, forcing his mouth harder, wanting more of him, more of Draco. The feeling overwhelms him and a swelling feeling blooms inside his chest.
“Fuck me Harry, just fuck me. Please.” Draco begs between kisses, the wash of the shower water hides his weeping. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Oh!”
Harry hoists him up the curve of Draco’s knees locking with the curve of Harry’s elbows, using his body pressure to keep him there. Carefully Harry breaches him, just the fat tip of his cock at first. The sensation is maddening.
“Fuck!” Harry swears, slipping, sheathing himself fully inside Draco all at once.
Draco sees god. Draco sees stars. He sees fire, he is burning. He is dying all at once, he is alive, he is alive. He aches with the swell of Harry inside him and it burns. He is on fire and he doesn’t care. Harry is inside of him, his face is buried against Draco’s neck muttering apologies, placating words and soft tender kisses. Draco nuzzles into the feel of Harry’s head against him, relaxes.
Everything is perfect. He is where he should be. With Harry Potter balls deep inside of him.
“Move.” He mumbles breathily.
“What?” Harry croaks, his breathing uneven.
“Move… Harry.” Draco is smiling, the feeling feels so foreign against his skin he can’t remember the last time he had done so.
Harry smiles back and again Draco can’t help but thinking everything is perfect. Then he moves and oh Merlin’s balls it hurts. They both groan, Harry out of pleasure, Draco out of, well, he is overwhelmed.
“Are you alright?” Harry whispers, placing a kiss on Draco’s chest.
“Yes, now move. Please!” Draco demands stubbornly and again Harry complies.
At first the burning ache won’t go away but then it does and then “OH FUCK!” Harry hits something within him. Harry lights up with renewed vigor, aiming for that spot he had hit earlier. Draco wriggles a hand around to stroke himself. He finds himself fisting his dick hard by the time Harry manages the right angle properly.
Draco feels feverish with want, with desire, with ache. He needs to come, he wants it all. “Harry, fuck me. Fill me! Fuuuccckkk!” He cries as his orgasm hits from nowhere. Explosively ripping through him. Harry as his anchor, Draco is lost. Harry pumps into his ass harder and harder until Harry follows him over that edge, filling him as instructed.
Draco can’t breathe but this time it’s for a good reason. Harry lowers him to the floor and they both struggle not to fall to the floor. The water washes their mess down the drain.
After he has regained his breath, Harry reaches for him again, cautiously this time. Draco lets himself be pulled into Harry’s embrace and once inside Harry’s arms he wraps his own arms around Harry.
“Draco-draco-draco-draco-draco-draco…” Harry mutters like a whispered prayer, hiding his face in Draco’s neck once again, their naked bodies flush against each other. Their spent cocks sensitive against each other’s touch.
“Harry!” Draco whispers into Harry’s nearest ear. He brushes hair away from his neck and places his own loving kisses down Harry’s neck.

They go to bed together in Draco’s bed, and nobody questions it.

Trace My Patterns In Your Heart

The tattoo shop was a little hole in the wall place located in a well maintained strip mall, bearing a simple lit neon sign to let patrons know it was open and its hours. Unlike its brethren, it was not gaudy in nature or situated by a bar. Unimpressed by the plain yet tasteful façade, Gilbert reminded himself that he had heard good things about the shop. Even better selling point, he liked the look of all the art coming from it, even if the place looked like it doled out manicures rather than potentially bad life decisions. From what he had seen though, the owner of ‘Moose Tracks’ had a nice touch for skin and the application of steel and ink into it.

Luddie and Feli had been coming here for years, and even Romano had had the balls to walk in and get pierced though he was refusing to admit where to anyone. His on again, off again boyfriend Antonio wasn’t giving up the location either, no matter how many drinks Gilbert and Francis poured down the Spaniard’s throat.

For all his leather and attitude, Gilbert’s pale skin was virginal in a sense, meaning that not one piece of steel or drop of ink gracing his surfaces. He was looking to fix that today, and ‘here’ was just the place to do it. Like most of his decisions, Gilbert was feeling rather awesome about this course of action until he stepped foot in the shop.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gilbert snapped upon entering, his excitement deflating upon finding someone he didn’t expect there.

“I work here, you asshole.” The bored blonde behind the counter shot back with a wide grin of too white teeth, all his many piercings glittering in the shop’s generous amount of lighting. Gilbert had to give it up to the owner as he looked around. MooseTracks was cleaner than some hospital rooms he had visited in the days of his hazardous youth. Gleaming white tiles and surfaces backed by bright red accent walls was the running theme, a floating maple leaf motif that started at the door and looped around to the back rooms linking everything together nicely.

Leaning behind the counter reading a comic book was none other than Alfred Fucking Jones, with his all American boy next door good looks of honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes. That ideal was marred(or improved upon depending on who was looking at him) by all the steel imbedded in his flesh. Star shaped studs made up a tiny earthbound cosmos on his person, a nebula floating most generously in his ears. A Milky Way graced his eyebrows, cheeks, lips, tongue, and to Gilbert’s extensive knowledge and Alfred’s total lack of shame, went all the way down to his nipples, belly button, and dangly bits.

“Since when?” Gilbert said, done rubber necking for now to glare at the man openly ignoring him.

“If you bothered to pay attention to anything besides your chick and your dick, you would know I’m the piercer here. Or do you think all this perfection happened naturally?” Alfred said, doing a full bodied gesture to encompass all his awesome.

“That’s not what Arthur calls it.” Gilbert snorted, recalling several drunken conversation with the Englishman. It was a blessing and a curse that he’d always had a better memory for the minor details while shitfaced, such things alluding Arthur who had the bad habit of talking to thin air when he was inebriated. That or go on long rants about his boyfriend who was usually the one to come and collect the useless drunk much to everyone’s relief.

“Lies and so jelly it’s ugly on you. I don’t get any complaints in receiving or giving. Have you ever had a blowjob with something like this?” Alfred said as he stuck out his tongue to show off the three star studs in it. “Or been fucked by…”

“Al, keep your pants on, eh.” said a soft yet firm voice from behind them, keeping Alfred’s well adorned cock in his pants. Gilbert wish he could say he had never seen it before, or admit to ever wondering how Arthur felt about having all that metal thrust into him on a regular basis. Now that he was thinking about it, the Englishman probably got off on it, the kinky fuck.

The owner of that voice was obviously Alfred’s twin, though there were differences between the two. The twin’s hair was longer and a touch paler in blond tone, his skin lacking the tan that seemed to perpetually exist on Alfred’s own all year long. His eyes were more lavender than bright blue, his facial expression softer in intensity as he openly regarded Gilbert with such a thoughtful expression, the albino felt himself beginning to blush.

“And who are you?” Gilbert purred, letting his husky accent do most of the work for him as he leaned up against the counter to display himself. He knew he looked good, dressing in all black and shades of darker reds that made his pale skin and silver hair glow.

“Seriously, Gil? Don’t eyefuck Mattie in front of me.” Alfred groaned, having seen the self-proclaimed Prussian in action before.

“Mattie?” Gilbert rolled the name around his mouth to find it didn’t quite fit with the man in front of him.

“Short for Matthew. Matthew Williams at your service.” The man corrected with a roll of eyes.

“I hope so.” Gilbert said, not missing a beat or a chance as his scarlet eyes memorized Matthew’s features, from floating head curl to his preference for layers upon layers of plaid.

“Ew, ew, ew. That’s my little bro, dude.” Alfred avidly reminded Gilbert that he was not alone with his new conquest.

“By two minutes. You need to let that go.” Matthew sighed, looking as annoyed by the intrusion as Gilbert.

“Never. It’s my duty as a hero to protect you from people like him.” Alfred said, throwing his comic book at Gilbert’s head who ducked in time.

Middle finger up in answer for making him expend the effort, Gilbert smirked at the American’s ire.    “People like me?”

“Yeah, assholes.”

“This asshole has cash in his pocket and would like to get a tattoo from anyone but you.” Gilbert pointed out, pulling the roll of bills from his pocket.

“As if. I only do steel. Mattie is the inker.” Alfred said as he swung himself over the counter to go and reclaim his comic book. From the irritated look on Matthew’s face, it was an old argument about why we can’t have nice things because people swing their bodies over glass display cases.

“Really?” Gilbert arched a pale brow at the other twin who remained unaffected by it.  As far as Gilbert could tell, the tattoo artist didn’t appear to have any ink of his own, though Matthew was wearing quite a few layers.

“Really. You can look at my portfolio if you would like.” Matthew gave a half shrug, gesturing to several prominent books on a shelf by some couches. From the butt dents in the cushions, people obviously took their time looking through everything, which was a good sign in Gilbert’s opinion.

“Nein. Luddie vouches for you and that is good enough for me. Let’s do this.” Gilbert said with a shake of his pale head, already venturing further into the shop. The front room seemed to exist to display flash and piercings for purchase, and provide a comfortable setting for negotiations in prices and commissions.

“You have to fill out some paperwork, give me some proof of ID, and sign some consent forms for me first.” Matthew said, gesturing at Alfred to hand something over to him from behind the counter.

The twin did so with a sigh, a prepared clipboard passed over. “No exceptions, butt nugget.”

“Mature, dicklick.” Gilbert said, making impatient grabby fingers at the clipboard. He was beginning to lose his patience and that was never a good thing for other people. “Gimme so I can sign my life away.”

“Not your life. Only your skin.” Alfred grinned evilly, all too white teeth and intent as he leaned over the counter. He was smacked upside his head by Matthew for putting his weight on the display cases below like that.

“You’re not touching me, you sadistic fuck. You keep your metal away from my meters.” Gilbert snickered as Alfred rubbed the back of his head and pouted, shooting Matthew a reproachful look who ignored it out of old habit.

“What’s a meter? Is that like a shortbus way of saying an inch?” Alfred shot back, making the rest of the room regard him strangely.

“Don’t look at me. I’m Canadian.” Matthew shook his head when Gilbert looked to him for answers. “Getting back to business, what were you thinking of getting and where?”

“I want a black eagle on my back between my shoulder blades with the words ‘Suum Cuique’ in Latin over it. I got a picture right here.” Gilbert said, juggling the clipboard and his ID in his renewed excitement as he fished the printout of the Prussian flag from his pocket.

Taking the picture before someone hurt themself, Matthew quietly studied the black eagle with its unfurled wings while Gilbert finished filling out the forms. “I could do this in one sitting for you if you’re up for it. It going to take aboot five to six hours though. Not everyone can handle that. There is no shame in that. Everyone’s pain tolerance is different. Otherwise, I can schedule a series of sittings. We can do the outline today…” Matthew started to explain, looking up to be met with a very determined look.

“Nein. We do it all at once or not at all.” Gilbert said with a seriousness that startled Matthew.  

“That’s a little extreme…” Matthew began to find something more than flash and fool in those sanguine eyes. There was a hardness and sharpness there, one that was honed into a soul by the wickeder side of life. Matthew was beginning to realize that underestimating this man would be a mistake.

“It’s what I want. I can handle it.” Gilbert stated without hesitation or worry catching his voice. “Hear and believe.”

“$50 bucks says he pussies out like a bitch after an hour.” Alfred said who remained unaffected by such things because his boyfriend was a real badass in his not so humble opinion even if Arthur dressed like an old man half the time, preferring to wear sweater vests and loafers.

“I’m telling Eli you said that.” Matthew said with a slight smile, referring to their friendly competition and fellow tattoo artist. The Hungarian woman was a brilliant inker but one with a well-known, quick temper. In cheerful acknowledgement to that temper and her habit for inflicting it upon people who bothered her, Elizabeta had a frying pan tattooed on her right fist. Having been on the receiving end of that fist more than he would care to admit, Alfred paled before ducking his head back into his comic book, ignoring his twin’s chuckling.

“You know that pain in the ass too?” Gilbert laughed along with Matthew. He was no stranger Eli’s ire, being the cause of it more often than not.

“Yes,” Matthew said, studying Gilbert again with fresh eyes now that he had seen something other than the farce. Handing off the paperwork to Alfred, Matthew led the albino to one of the rooms in the back, a neat sterile space filled with his equipment, versatile chairs, and widescreen TV that provided soft background noise and distraction for anyone being worked on. “But if you know Elizabeta, why are you coming here? She can be a little heavy handed but she’s one of the best.”

“I like your work and I have my reasons.” Gilbert said with a slight smile, the expression bordering on more bitter than sweet, a secret living there in the upturn of his lips.  His eyes hinted it might be one he would be willing to tell if Matthew proved himself worthy of that sort of trust. “After you give me mine, maybe you could show me yours.”

“Fair enough.” Was all Matthew decided to say. He had work to do and couldn’t afford to become too distracted. There would be time enough for that later. “Take off your shirt for me please.”

“Usually I insist on a drink first. I’m not a cheap lay.” Gilbert grinned as he started to pull off his clothes.

“Duly noted. Shut up and strip. I need to shave your back.”