watch as he processes what has just come out of his mouth

andallwaswell-ish  asked:

Draco dying his hair light blue

Harry can’t stop staring. His breakfast is forgotten. Malfoy’s hair is blue.

“Harry! Harry? What are you – “

“Malfoy.” Harry answers Hermione without looking away.

Ron pauses midway through a mouth of potato. “What?”

“Malfoy,” Harry explains again, “He – Look what he did.”

Hermione’s eyes remain fixed on Harry. “Don’t you think you need to stop obsessing over him? The war is over. We’re all on the same side.”

“No, look what he did to his hair!” Harry all but shouts. MALFOY’S HAIR IS BLUE.

Hermione and Ron finally follow Harry’s gaze to the Slytherin table to Draco Malfoy, blue hair and all.

“Bloody hell.”

“That is surprising,” Hermione admits.

“Maybe someone cursed him?” Ron suggests.

“I hope not,” Hermione frowns. “Like he doesn’t have enough to deal with – his mother is being retried this week.”

Harry’s chest constricts. “That’s this week?”

“Yes, Harry. I thought you were the one stalking him?”

“Well he has been sadder than usual. He’s been eating cereal since last Friday which is odd as he almost always goes for – what?” Harry stops at the looks Hermione and Ron are giving him.

Hermione shakes her head. “I was being facetious, Harry. I can’t believe you’re stalking him again.”

“I’m not stalking,” Harry clarifies, focusing his attention solely on Hermione and Ron to prove his point. Which is difficult when MALFOY’S HAIR IS BLUE. “I’m just observant.”

Hermione smiles wickedly and Harry already knows he’s stuffed before she opens her mouth. “Okay, then what do I usually eat for breakfast?”

Harry tries to eye her plate discreetly but she already has her hand covering it. He desperately tries to remember what she’d been eating only seconds earlier. “Uh….uh…”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m not stalking Malfoy,” Harry tries again.

Ron sniggers into his morning omelette. “Sure, mate.”

Hermione rests her head in her hands (revealing her breakfast of poached eggs). “Why don’t you go over there and ask him?”

“Ask him what?”

Hermione closes her eyes in obvious exasperation. “Why his hair is blue.”

“I can’t – “

“Mate, just go,” Interrupts Ron, now with a mouthful of tomato. “You’re going to be like this all day if you don’t.”


Malfoy looks up in surprise as Harry approaches, his cereal spoon hovering above his bowl. “Potter?”

“Malfoy.” Harry nods. He tries not to stare so openly at Malfoy’s hair but…it’s BLUE.

Malfoy drops his spoon and pushes the cereal away. He stares at Harry suspiciously. “Are you lost?”

“No, I – why is your hair blue?” Harry blurts out, unable to hold it in any longer.

One of Malfoy’s hands automatically jumps to his hair, as if he’d forgotten the colour for a moment. After the initial surprise, Malfoy’s turns defensive. “You got a problem with it?” He asks.

“No, not at all. It’s just – never mind. Forget I asked.” What was he thinking? What were Hermione and Ron thinking sending him over here? He turns to leave.

“it’s poetic, Potter.”

Harry turns back to Malfoy. “Poetic?”

Malfoy shrugs, and looks down into his cereal bowl. “I’m feeling blue. I dyed my hair to match. It made sense last night after the second bottle of firewhiskey.”

Harry considers this. “Your mother?” He asks, softly.

“Yes,” Malfoy says into his cereal.

“Do you – I mean, would you – would it help if I came with you?” Oh Merlin, did Harry really just say that?

Malfoy looks up, sharply. “Why would you want to do that?”

Harry feels his cheeks reddening. “Your mother saved my life,” he offers, which is true at least, but only a small part of his real motivation.

“Of course,” Malfoy says with a polite nod. Is Harry reading into it or does he seem…disappointed?

“And you might need…support.”

A small smile plays on the corner of Malfoy’s mouth. “I have friends, Potter.”

“Right, I didn’t mean to say – it’s just – I’d like to be there. For both of you.”

Malfoy tilts his head and looks Harry over with a curious gaze. This only makes Harry blush harder.

“Okay,” Malfoy finally says, “You can come.” He picks up his spoon and returns his attention to his cereal.


Harry can’t stop staring. His breakfast is forgotten. Malfoy’s hair is green.

“Go ask him, already.”


Malfoy looks up. This time he doesn’t seem surprised. “Potter. What brings you here?”

“You know what.”

Malfoy smirks. “Enlighten me.”

Harry stares at Malfoy’s hair. “Why green?”

Malfoy shrugs. “Just felt like it.”

Harry frowns. He wonders whether Malfoy’s being entirely truthful. “That’s not very poetic,” he points out.

“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,” Malfoy whispers.

Harry blinks, processing. “What?”

“His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he’s really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord,” Malfoy continues with a shy smile. “Poetic enough for you?”

Harry feels himself blushing again.

“Maybe I should have gone pink to match your face,” Malfoy suggests with a wink. Merlin, Harry might melt.

“You remembered the po – “

“I wrote the poem,” corrects Malfoy.

Harry frowns “But I always thought Ginny – “

Malfoy shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Does that mean you – that you used to – “

Malfoy interrupts with a roll of his eyes. “Like you?”

Harry gulps. “Yeah.”

“I thought that was obvious, Potter.”

Harry feels like his knees might buckle at any moment. This is really happening. He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “And now?” he asks.

Malfoy raises his eyebrows, a playful smirk on his lips. “I thought that was also obvious, Harry.”            

And just to be an infuriating bastard, Malfoy chooses this moment to dust himself off and leave the Great Hall, with one last wink at Harry.

Harry wants to follow but he thinks his legs may have turned into jelly. He has to grip the table tightly just to keep himself standing.


Harry can’t stop staring. Breakfast never stood a chance.  Malfoy’s hair is pink.

He doesn’t even bother to take a seat at his own table, instead heading straight over to the Slytherin side of the Great Hall.

Malfoy watches him as he approaches with a smug smile. “Pot – “

Harry interrupts by leaning down and smashing his mouth onto Malfoy’s, his hands reaching out to finally run through that gorgeous hair. The entire Great Hall is watching and Harry’s face is on fire, but none of that matters, because Draco Malfoy is kissing him back.

And his hair is bloody pink.

The Health Care Freedom Act: A Transcript

INT. SENATE FLOOR - NIGHT

SEN. MCCONNELL addresses the august body.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Okay, idiots. We’ve had seven years of the Obamacare hellscape, which, as everyone agrees, has ruined our country, killed jobs, slaughtered animals, and set the Bible on fire. But now the GOP is in charge – and it’s time for this national nightmare of “sick people being able to maybe not die or go bankrupt” to end.

SEN. SCHUMER
Okay, you’ve been talking about a replacement bill for eight years. Let’s see what you got.

SEN. CORNYN
Whoa whoa whoa – you’re being a little “pushy” there, Chuck.

SEN. SCHUMER
That’s usually code for “Jewish.”

SEN. CORNYN
Nobody said “Jewish.” I said “pushy.” You’re being pushy, is what I said. Don’t put words in my mouth. Anyway: read it and weep: the American Freedom Bald Eagle Old Glory Healthcare for Everyone with No Exceptions “It’s Gonna Be So Easy” Act.

SEN. WARREN
…Where is it? We haven’t seen it yet. Can we see it?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. JOHNSON
A little history for you: when the Democrats wrote “Obummercare” –

SEN. MCCONNELL
(chuckles)
Nice.

They high-five.

SEN. JOHNSON
– they did it in secret, in scarcely 16 months, behind closed doors, with not even 100 Republican amendments, and barely 70 public hearings.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Like you can craft anything good in 16 months!

SEN. CORNYN
In contrast to that undemocratic process, we, the GOP, spent literally dozens of minutes crafting this, over chicken caesar wraps and Arnold Palmers, earlier today in the senate dining room.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Enough talking. We’ve been discussing this bill for almost eight minutes. Time to vote.

SEN. WARREN
Can we see the bill?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. SCHUMER
Can we offer amendments?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No.

SEN. WYDEN
Can we have public hearings?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. Go back to Oregon, you dirty hippie.

SEN. COLLINS
I’m voting no, Mitch. This bill is terrible.

SEN. MURKOWSKI
I’m voting no too. It’s an abomination.

SEN. MCCONNELL
(shakes his head sadly)
Broads. Look, I know the bill is miserable. It would crash the insurance markets immediately. But who cares? This is just symbolic. This bill isn’t going to be a law. We’re just doing it to initiate a conference with the House, so we can actually pass a real bill later.

SEN. JOHNSON
I just got a text from Paul Ryan. The House might just pass this bill.

SEN. MCCONNELL
They might pass it?! Why the hell would they pass this bill we are about to pass?!

SEN. GRAHAM
(fanning himself)
This bill is abhorrent. It’s absurd, I say. I shudder to think what would happen if it became an actual law!

SEN. SCHUMER
So how will you vote?

SEN. GRAHAM
Oh I’m voting “yes.”

SEN. CAPITO
This bill would devastate the people of West Virginia!

SEN. PORTMAN
It would ruin lives! My own governor hates it!

SEN. SCHUMER
You’re both voting for it, though, right?

SEN. PORTMAN
Oh yeah.

SEN. CAPITO
No question. Voting “yes.”

SEN. HARRIS
Can we read the bill now?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. Any word from Ryan?

SEN. CRUZ
I’ve been texting him a lot. No word. Oh – hang on, he’s writing back…I see the little bubbles.

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. CRUZ
“New phone, who dis?” Guess I have the wrong number.

SEN. MCCONNELL
No, that’s his number. It’s just: nobody likes you.

SEN. JOHNSON
Ryan just texted me. I asked him if he could guarantee the House wouldn’t just pass our bill.

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. JOHNSON
(reading)
“Look, this is complicated. This stuff gets a little wonky – I don’t want to bore you with the nerdy, wonky details. I’m kind of a policy geek, so I kind of get down in there with the nitty-gritty stuff, that other people are bored by, because they’re not policy geeks like me.”

SEN. MCCONNELL
…He didn’t answer your question.

SEN. CRUZ
(checking Johnson’s phone)
Let me see what number you have for him…yeah, that’s the same number I have. Weird.

SEN. MCCONNELL
It’s not weird. No one likes you.

SEN. GRAHAM
(lying on fainting couch)
My fellow members of this most august body, don’t you see we are headed for a disaster? This bill cannot pass! It would upend generations of Senatorial norms and procedure, and devastate the very fabric of American society!

SEN. SCHUMER
Still voting for it, though?

SEN. GRAHAM
Oh yeah, still a solid “yes.”

SEN. MURKOWSKI
I’m still a “no,” by the way.

SEN. COLLINS
Me too.

SEN. MCCONNELL
No one cares, ladies. Go get your hair blown out or whatever.

SEN. HARRIS
Can we read the bill now?

SEN. MCCONNELL
(angry)
No! Why are there all these women haranguing me?! How many goddamned women are in the Senate now, 95?!

SEN. WARREN
Twenty.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Seems like 95. Look: no one gets to read the bill. It’s not a real bill! It’s not supposed to become a law!

SEN. JOHNSON
What if the House just passes it?

SEN. MCCONNELL
Call that little pissant Paul Ryan and tell him they better not!

SEN. JOHNSON
(dials)
Paul? It’s Ron Johnson. You better not pass this bill that we are about to pass, because we don’t want it to pass, even though we are gonna pass it!

SEN. MCCONNELL
What’d he say?

SEN. JOHNSON
He said the process of passing bills is wonky, and it’s hard to explain, and he’ll try not to bore me with the wonky details.

SEN. CRUZ
Let me talk to him.
(takes phone)
Paul? It’s Ted. Listen, bud –
(beat)
Oh, sorry. Okay.
(hangs up)
It was the wrong number.

SEN. MCCONNELL
We were already talking to him, moron.

SEN. PORTMAN
No one likes you.

SEN. WARREN
Can we read the bill?

SEN. MCCONNELL
No. No more women talking. Time to vote. It’s a fake bill, and if the House passes it and all hell breaks loose, we can just blame Hillary or something.
(calling out)
Who wants to pass a fake disastrous bill that, if it became law, would cause the insurance markets to collapse, and 18 million people to immediately lose health care, but who gives a crap, because it’d be the House’s fault and no one pays attention to this stuff anyway?

49 REPUBLICANS
Yay!

48 DEMOCRATS
Nay!

SENS. MURKOWSKI AND COLLINS
Nay.

SEN. MCCONNELL
(aside)
Must be that time of the month.

SEN. CRUZ
Nice!

Cruz goes to high-five McConnell, who ignores him.

SEN. MCCONNELL
Okay, one more vote. John?

SEN. MCCAIN
I vote no.

Everyone loses their minds.

AMERICAN MEDIA
MCCAIN VOTED NO! MAVERICK! ONCE AGAIN HE DEFIES THE PARTY! HERO! NO ONE HAS EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS!

SEN. MURKOWSKI
…I voted “no” as well.

SEN. COLLINS
Yeah, Lisa and I are also Republicans who defied–

AMERICAN MEDIA
WE REPEAT: THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED! LITERALLY ONLY JOHN MCCAIN WOULD EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS! PLUS HE HAS CANCER – AND HE STILL CAME HERE AND VOTED!

SEN. HIRONO
I have Stage 4 kidney cancer, and I voted –

AMERICAN MEDIA
JOHN MCCAIN JUST DID SOMETHING THAT LITERALLY NO OTHER MAN IN THE HISTORY OF AMERICA WOULD EVER DO EVER!

SEN. CRUZ
Bummer, huh guys? Anyone want to come over to my place, get some wings, watch a little “Life of Brian?” No? Rain check, then.

Flourish. Exeunt. Curtain.

Jealousy Games 01

Description: You decide to play a game of push and pull with your ex Jungkook, bringing Jimin along for the ride. 

Pairing: JungkookxReaderxJimin

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 8.4k

Index: 01, 02, 03

Warnings: breath play, dom!Jimin, lots and lots of filth.

A/N: This is chapter one of… well, I don’t know. @ellieljade and I just keep brainstorming more and more for this sucker. To the point of us joking about finishing this when we’re in our 90′s….. Anyway. I hope you enjoy. I’ll be working on part two for Room for Dessert and The Guest House soon.

Keep reading

BTS’ Erogenous Zones/How To Turn Them On (Based on Astrology)

✨ An erogenous zone is an area of the body with heightened sensitivity, that can cause arousal when stimulated. Sun, moon, mars, and venus signs can all be taken in account when trying to figure out someone’s sweet spots. Let’s look into BTS’ charts to figure out what really makes them tick ✨

{warning: long post, many gifs and pictures, mature content, and large amounts of bts body worship ahead}

Keep reading

Babygirl

Summary: Dan is an innocent virgin and Phil is the bad-boy who likes to make him flustered. High school Pastel!Dan and Punk!Phil AU

Genre: Smut that’s kinda kinky but mostly cute

Word count: 4,039

Kinks: Feminization, daddy kink, dirty talk, a little verbal humiliation

You can also read on AO3 here.

Keep reading

Come Here Little Girl

Word count: 2,366

Warning: SMUT, daddy kink, rough sex, slight bondage

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary/Request: Thank you @thedevilsbestie for your request!

On a hunt, Y/N is surprised to find out in such circumstances, a kink that she has – as is Dean. They try it out when they get back to the motel room.

“I am not doing that. No way!” You shouted through the motel room.
“Come on Y/N this is where he’s going to be and it’s probably our only chance to kill him.” Dean argued. “I have to go too.”
You snorted, “You get to wear clothes though, you don’t have to go in your fucking underwear!”
You had been on this case for the past two weeks trying to find the vampire that was terrorising the city, so of course you wanted to kill the son of a bitch. But the only problem was that he only showed his face once a fortnight at a club downtown. The club looked like your average sort of club from the outside but in reality it was invite only. Not only that but the invites were for men who had girlfriends and partners that would come along only in their underwear (or less) and then, “I don’t even want to think about what sort of stuff happens in that club at night.”

Keep reading

Penelope & Derek’s Matchmaking Service

Originally posted by theonewiththevows

Prompt: The reader and Reid both have a crush on the other person but are too scared of ruining their friendship to tell the other person. Penelope decided to give them a little push and drags Derek into her mischevious scheme.

A/N: This was an idea that popped into my head because I could definitely see Morgan and Garcia meddling in their coworkers love lives. I’m not opposed to making a part two of this, so let me know if that’s something that you would want. Also, anyone who can catch the subtle F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference that is in here somewhere is my favorite person ever. Enjoy :)

Note: (Y/F/C) = your favorite candy

Warning: nothing

Word Count: 3k

Rating: PG


Penelope sighed in frustration as she watched you and Spencer alternate staring at each other. It was almost painful the way that neither of you actually caught the other doing so. It was like some form of fate caused you to look away a second before Spencer decided to look up. Derek noticed her standing in the doorway. “Hey Baby Girl,” he called and walked over to her. She muttered a “hello” before huffing and crossing her arms. “Whoa whoa whoa, what’s the matter gorgeous? Those processing systems in that big brain of yours hung up on something?”

“How does it not drive you crazy?” she mumbled and Morgan raised an eyebrow at her. 

“How does what not drive me crazy?”

“The two of them!” she whisper-shouted and spun around walking off toward her lair. Derek rolled his eyes, but obediently followed her down the hall. 

“Gonna need a little more information sweetness,” he told her, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Oh c’mon, do I need to spell it out for you? (Y/N) and Spencer. The way those two are pining after each other it’s both sickening and sweet at the same time. I’m not even a profiler and I can tell that they are head over heels. I mean I know (Y/N) is because she told me one night when I got her super drunk with the intent of forcing the information out of her, but that is beside the point,” Penelope explained as she pulled up the bullpen’s security video feed and maneuvered the cameras so they were facing you and Spencer’s desks. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m people watching.”

“Do you do this all the time?” Morgan asked standing behind her chair.

“Only when we don’t have a case or anything else to do,” Penelope defended, “You would not believe how boring it gets in here and you people never come visit me!” 

“But why- you know what nevermind. Just please tell me that you don’t mess with the cameras in my office.”

“My vision, you are the object of my affection but for the most part my attentions have been focussed on my current OTP as you never do anything interesting in your office.”

“Forgive me for actually doing work instead of making googly eyes at my coworkers.”

“So you have noticed!”

“Of course I’ve noticed. The whole team has noticed. The only ones in the dark about it are the two of them,” Derek chuckled. Penelope smiled as she watched the two of you. You had gone over to ask Spencer something, but he had been so focused on his work you’d startled him and he’d almost spilled his coffee all over himself. 

“They are so cute,” she sighed, “Derek I want my OTP to be together!”

“Somehow I don’t think we get a vote or have the power to make that happen,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. Penelope suddenly perked up. 

“But what if we did?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as she spun her chair around. 

“What if there was a way that we could force Reid’s hand and make him admit something or ask her out?”

“Baby Girl, Reid has specifically told me that he doesn’t want me messing with this. You think I haven’t tried to get him to make a move?”

“He told you that, but he never told me,” she chirped, turning back toward her computer and started typing away. She pulled up a website for custom floral arrangements and started clicking on various options. 

“What are you doing?”

“Creating something that all of you men hate. Competition,” she replied, patting the side of his face. A few more minutes of meddling the order had been placed, ready to be delivered tomorrow morning. 

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be the one he blames for this?” Derek sighed shaking his head. 

“Ha, do not worry my vision. If all goes bad, we pretend like it never happened,” Penelope told him.


You walked into the bullpen the next morning smiling happily as you carried two cups of coffee. You glanced around looking for Spencer, before nonchalantly setting one of the cups down on his desk and arranged the mountain of sugar packets you’d also brought into an orderly pile. You quickly scurried back to your desk and sat down, trying to look casual as you waited for Spencer to arrive. “No coffee for the rest of us, I’m genuinely hurt,” Derek teased, as he sat down on your desk.

“Hey, the only order I remember is Spence’s because it’s the easiest thing ever: a large black coffee and then just bring the whole container of sugar to him,” you replied trying to casually look around him. 

“Uh huh,” Morgan muttered, clearly unconvinced. 

“Good morning,” Reid said as he walked over to his desk past the two of you. 

“Hi, Spencer,” you chirped, “I stopped for coffee this morning and brought you some.”

“Thank you so much, you would not believe the morning I’ve had. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Well, thank you. Did you know that coffee was banned three times in three different cultures: once in Mecca in the 16th century, once when Charles II in Europe banned the drink in an attempt to quiet an ongoing revolution, and once when Frederick the Great banned coffee in Germany in 1677 because he was concerned people were spending too much money on the drink,” he rambled. You smiled and shoved Morgan off of your desk, so you could actually see Spencer. 

“Well, I didn’t know that, but I do know that banning coffee should be a crime,” you giggled. Reid smiled back at you and opened his mouth to say something but suddenly went pale. “What’s-”

“I have a delivery for a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” a man said cutting you off. 

“That would be me,” you replied, turning around. “What can..I..do..” you stuttered as you came face to face with a huge vase of lilies and red roses. 

“Sign here please,” the delivery man said, handing you a clipboard and setting the vase down on your desk. You scribbled your signature down on the form and handed it back to the man. “Have a nice day,” he said walking away. 

“Yeah, you too,” you muttered still too focussed on your flowers. 

“Oh my god, those are gorgeous,” JJ mentioned as she walked over to your desk. 

“Who are they from?” Emily asked, joining the two of you.

“I have no idea,” you replied, pulling the card off the side of the vase. 

“Read it,” JJ urged leaning in closer. None of you noticed that Spencer had unconsciously leaned closer to the group as well trying to listen. 

“Nothing can ever compare to your beauty, but these flowers are certainly a nice way to compliment it. I hope these make that lovely smile of yours appear on your face, signed your secret admirer,” you read out loud and closed the card. 

“Oooh, this is interesting,” Emily said nudging your shoulder. 

“Any idea who it could be?” JJ asked. 

“Not a clue,” you replied, sitting back down in your chair, “I’m not seeing anyone and no one has asked me out recently.”

“Anyone who you hope it is?” 

“Yeah, but considering he hasn’t shown the slightest sign of interest I’m pretty sure it isn’t him,” you mumbled. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had wandered away into the break room fuming. This happened every time he’d finally work up the courage to ask you out on a date or flirt with you at all something would happen. Morgan would come interrupt,  Hotch would suddenly announce that you had a case, or in this case, some jerk would write you poetry and send you flowers. He downed the rest of the coffee that you had bought him and started making another cup. 

“You ok, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked watching Spencer stir the coffee quite angrily. 

“Just peachy,” Spencer growled. 

“Ya know, you could just ask her out. (Y/N) has no idea who sent her those flowers,” Derek casually mentioned. 

“Ha yeah right, I’m reasonably certain she’d rather have fancy flower man whoever he is,” he grumbled. 

“Fancy flower man? Really Reid, that’s the best you can come up with?” Derek asked trying not to laugh. 

“I have plenty of other vulgar things I could call him so don’t push it.”

“Hey, I’m not the one encroaching on your girl, but I would recommend you do something about it before you loose her to fancy flower man.”

“You think I should what?”

“Well, you’re her friend. I’m pretty sure you can find a way to top the giant array of flowers that he sent her.”

“I definitely could,” Spencer muttered, deep in thought, “I need to get to work but first I’m going to get Garcia to figure out who sent those to her.”

“Uh,” Derek stuttered, trying to come up with a way to divert him, “Why does it matter who it is? You should be more concerned with your plan to woo her, you can worry about who it was later.”

“You’re right. I’m going to take my lunch early. I need to go get a few things,” Spencer said and quickly rushed back to his desk to grab his wallet. Derek sighed in relief, happy that he’d managed to redirect Reid’s thought process, and made himself a cup of coffee. Your sudden presence in the break room caught his attention. “And where are you going lady of the hour?” he asked sipping his coffee.

“I’m grabbing another sugar for my coffee and then I’m going to get Garcia to find out who this admirer person is.” Derek did a spit take and started coughing. “Whoa, you ok?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. But maybe you should just let this play out? See if he reveals himself to you?”

“Derek, I just want to know who it is so I can tell him I’m not interested. There’s only one guy who’s attention I want and he seems to not really care.”

“Sweetness, Reid is a great guy just a little awkward and shy when it comes to ladies, you might try being a bit more obvious about it,” he teased. You furrowed your brow and slowly turned your head toward him. 

“How did you know I have a crush on Spencer?”

“I’m a profiler and I’m really good at my job.” Derek replied.

“Yeah sometimes I forget what we do for a living.”

“And the fact that Penelope can’t keep her mouth shut,” he muttered quietly to himself. Just not quiet enough.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”

“I’m going to kill her!” you growled and stormed off toward Penelope’s office. 

“No no no, wait!” Derek shouted as he chased after you. You tore the door open and walked in. 

“Hello my lovely, what can I do for you today?” Penelope chirped. You narrowed your eyes at her before flicking her on the side of the head. 

“OW!” she shrieked. “What was that for?” 

“I cannot believe you told Derek that I like Spencer. I told you that in confidence and you swore you wouldn’t tell another soul,” you fumed.

“Technically you told me that while you were drunk.”

“Same thing!”

“But you know I tell my chocolate thunder everything, so you should’ve expected this.”

“Ugh, my life is over,” you whined. “Spencer is still acting weird and now some stranger has sent me flowers. Can you make yourself useful and tell me who sent those at least?”

“I take offense to that comment!”

“Who told shared a secret that she swore she would take to the grave?”

“Fine,” she muttered, “but I already know who sent them. I looked it up earlier.”

“Then who is it?”

“It’s uh, Brian in payroll,” 

“Brian in payroll?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, twisting a piece of hair around her finger.

“Uh huh, does Brian in payroll have a last name?” you asked crossing your arms.

“Yes, yes he definitely does.”

“Yeah? What it is then?”

“Well, I can tell you that it is most certainly not Morgan or Garcia.”

“Penelope,” you groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m just trying to spice it up, you know force our dearest doctor’s hand.”

“Yes and in doing that you’ve managed to scare him. He took off fifteen minutes ago,” you grumbled flopping down in the chair beside her. 

“Aw, sweets it’s gonna be ok.”

“My life is over.”

“Hey look on the bright side, at least you got some bitchin flowers,” she said trying to lighten the mood. You lifted your head and glared at her.

“Not funny.” 

“(Y/N), you need to get back to your desk and take a look at this,” Derek said as he walked into Penelope’s office.

“And you! You knew she was going to do this and you didn’t stop her,” you growled and stalked over to him, poking his chest. 

“As upset as you are right now, I really think you should just go back to your desk. You might like what you find,” Derek replied pushing your hand away. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“If this is another part of this BS plan you two have going on, I’m going to kill you both,” you grumbled, stalking down the hallway. 

“What are you doing?” Penelope whispered at Derek, as they followed you. 

“Just watch,” he replied with a smug look on his face. You were expecting to see yet another bouquet of flowers that the two of them had sent to you, but you certainly weren’t expecting this. Your desk was scattered with various pieces of paper and rose petals. A large white teddy bear was sitting in your chair with a bouquet of gardenias nestled in its arms and a bag of (Y/F/C) tucked in beside it. You stood rooted in place out of surprise until Derek gave you a slight nudge. You walked forward and picked up one of the pieces of paper. You smiled as you recognized Spencer’s handwriting and started reading. It was a poem by Christina Rossetti, one of your favorites actually “I loved you first”. You had talked about this with Spencer months ago, when you both discovered your shared love of poetry. From the looks of it, he had managed to write down all of your favorite poems on these little notes (probably including a few of his own favorites) and put them all over your desk. You plucked the bouquet of gardenias out of the bear’s arms and smelled them. 

“Red roses traditionally symbolize love and passion while gardenias’ symbolize pure, secret love which more accurately displays how I feel about you,” Spencer mumbled from behind you. You immediately spun around and dropped the bouquet back in your chair, before throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips into his. He seemed to be stunned for a few seconds, before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. Hoots and hollers came from all around the office, mainly from Penelope and Emily. You separated a little breathlessly and rested your forehead against his. The pair of you were smiling from ear to ear. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” he muttered closing his eyes. 

“Nope,” you replied popping the “p”, “I’m real.”

“So I take it you like me too or else I think you’ve been sending some very mixed signals.” You chuckled and kissed him again. 

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, after you’d pulled back. 

“I think it does, and to think I had a whole speech planned out to make you at least go on one date with me,” he replied scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. You just shook your head and smiled at him.

“That’s so sweet, but how on earth did you have time to set this up? I couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes,” you said, turning slightly to look at your desk,

“14 minutes and 23 seconds actually, but I’ve had the notes sitting in my bag for about a week now,” he told you. 

“Ok, that’s enough, back to work all of you,” Hotch said, commotion having finally drawn him out of his office. There was a collective “sorry” muttered from around the office, before Hotch turned his attention to the two of you. “Do we need to have a conversation or can I trust that this isn’t going to affect work?”

“I think we’re good,” you answered. 

“Good, now I need to call Dave and inform him that he owes me twenty bucks as do the two of you,” Hotch chuckled motioning JJ and Emily. The two women groaned slightly before reaching for their purses. 

“Wait, what?” Spencer asked raising an eyebrow, keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“To make a long story short, we started a pool going for how long it would take the two of you to get together after three months of watching the two of you flirt. I had yesterday, Hotch had today, Rossi had tomorrow, and JJ had next Monday,” Emily explained as she walked up the stairs and handed the money to Hotch, who gladly pocketed it and went back in his office to presumably call Rossi who was off on vacation time. 

“I cannot believe this! How many people in this office are invloved in our love lives?” you cried in frustration, even though you were smiling. 

“Wait, who else is involved in our love life?” Spencer asked, looking down at you confused. 

“And that’s our cue to run chocolate thunder,” Penelope muttered, as she took off running dragging Derek along behind her. You shook your head and laughed, all irritation suddenly vanishing. 

“Wonder what that was about,” Reid thought out loud, as you unwound from his arms and moved all his gifts out of your chair. 

“Don’t worry about it, just remind me to tell Brian from payroll to send her some flowers,” you told him. He looked very confused but just shrugged and kissed your forehead. You grinned up at him, knowing that this was the start of one of the best times in your life. 

{PART 28} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Tricking Yoongi proves to be easier than you could have ever hoped, as you stumble upon just a taste of what your awakened abilities can achieve. However, in your haste to serve Yoongi punishment for his crimes; you and Jungkook learn that that life and death are just a means to an end - for every living thing…must one day, die.

“To play God not only means to give life; but take it as well. As she stared into the abyss, it stared right back at her…and she finally realised the true meaning behind all things living; even herself.”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} //{Part 27} {Part 28} {Part 29}

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi, I just wanted to say the the gods & monsters series is one of the most wonderful things I've read. I know that some already have Hades in them but could you please do one about Hades and Persephone meeting? That would be amazing, thank you

Apollo comes to her, warm and smiling. He likes her body, its gentle curves, the flawless skin, how it shines with the youth and strength of spring. He is the sun and she is the earth, and it is from his rays that she gains her strength, and it would be expected of them to love each other. The god is golden, from his skin to his hair to his mischievous eyes, and there is not an inch of him that is not as lovely as the rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves.

Kore is not stupid. She knows Apollo does not linger, that she will be a wife in name and little else; he will lie with her and worship her and then grow bored of her.

Hermes comes to her, eyes sharp and hands gentle. He likes her mind, her acuteness, the way she views the world as a gem cutter would a raw emerald. He is wings and air and she is firmly rooted in the earth, she is as far from him as one can be, but his skin and hers are the exact same shade and she finds the shape of his mouth pleasing. She likes the way he considers her his equal.

But Hermes is meant to fly, spends his time carrying messages for Zeus and meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. He may be a fine enough man, but he’s no husband.

She has two offers – each from powerful gods, each attractive and clever. There’s no reason she should find them both as unappealing as congealed chicken fat, yet she does.

“I do not often find you alone,” a deep, feminine voice says, and Kore suppresses a sigh as she turns to greet the approaching woman. She sits deep in the forest under a blossoming apple tree, but this is not her dominion alone.

“I am not often alone,” she concedes, observing the blood soaked goddess. “I’m assuming none of that is yours?”

Artemis doesn’t have enough hair to toss it over her shoulder, but she runs a hand through it, pushing it out of her face and streaking it copper in the process. “Of course not. I hope you weren’t too attached to the bucks of this forest.”

“Animals are not my concern,” she answers, “Besides, I am the goddess of spring, and therefore am born from death. It would be foolish of me to reject that which bore me.”

“Funny you should say that,” she says, “since all of Olympus is gossiping about how desperately you seek to leave the sanctuary of what bore you.”

Kore raises an eyebrow. Artemis is clumsy with her words, but she supposes the woman has never had a need to be otherwise. There are few as transparently straightforward as the huntress. She smiles, “Perhaps it is more funny, dear cousin, how easily the words prison and sanctuary become entangled.“

Artemis crosses her arms and sucks her lower lips between her teeth. “No,” she says finally, sobering, “I don’t think that’s very funny at all.”

Kore arranges her skirts around her, the green of the thread and that of the grass nearly identical. “If you’re here to plead your brother’s case for my hand, I’m willing to listen.”

The huntress snorts, derisive, and Kore raises an eyebrow. “I would not recommend my brother’s hand,” she says, “There are other parts of his anatomy which leave many satisfied, however, if that falls within your interests.”

“I am a more desirable bride as a virgin,” she answers instead of saying that the thought of touching a man she does not love makes her skin crawl. Artemis laughs as if she just told a joke, but if so Kore is ignorant of the punchline.

She does not know if she could love either Hermes or Apollo, at least not for the eternity that marks a god’s impossibly long life. It would result in a rather lackluster love making, which is presumably their main goal in pursuing her.

She dislikes her options. Behind her is the gilded cage of her mother’s overprotectiveness, and ahead of her lies the gilded cage of a loveless marriage.

“Kore,” Artemis says, frowning, “if – if you are to defy Demeter, you must go someplace that she cannot enter, a place where her magic cannot reach you.”

“Where might that be?” Kore asks dryly, “She is as I am – all that grows from this earth is our domain. Perhaps in the sea I could hide from her, but Poseidon is no friend of mine and has no reason to grant me asylum.”

Artemis shrugs, a wry twist to her lips. She cracks her neck on either side and walks back from where she came, but not before calling out over her shoulder, “I guess there is no such place Kore, goddess of spring, born of death and Demeter.“

Kore is still for a long time, staring at the place where Artemis stood.

Perhaps she is not so clumsy with her words after all.

 ~

Slipping away from her mother’s watchful eye is always monstrous task, even more so since the rumors of her proposals, but she manages. She finds the River Styx and follows it against its current, walking past and through all the warning sign that she’s gone too far, ignores the prickle along her skin as she crosses the threshold from this world to the next.

Almost immediately she comes across a hooded figure standing besides a small boat. “Charon,” she greets confidently. She tries to catch a peek under his hood, but he tilts his head away from her and manages to give the impression that he’s frowning at her even though she can’t see his face. “I need passage across the river.”

“You are not dead, lady goddess,” he says.

She holds out a shiny gold coin, “I can pay.”

“You are not dead,” he repeats, “You may not be ferried across.”

She nearly snaps at him, but instead takes a firm hold on her temper and thinks. Charon did not say she was not permitted to enter the underworld, only that he may not ferry her across. She peeks into the rushing river. It’s so powerful and fast that it churns grey foam and the water itself looks black, or perhaps that is simply whatever lies beneath. She skims her hand across the surface and the skin of her fingertips comes away burned and blistering.

“May I swim?” she asks.

“There are no rules preventing the impossible,” he tells her, but his shoulders stiffen as if he’s grown nervous.

Kore is not nervous. Either she survives and manages to enter the underworld, or she dies and Charon will have no choice but to ferry her across.

She sheds her gown – it will only weigh her down and get in her way. “My lady goddess,” Charon says, and Kore would almost say he sounds panicked. “Please do not –”

She jumps into the river.

It burns all over, white hot pain that makes her want to scream, but she has no interest in discovering what would happen if she were to swallow any of this supposed water. The current fights against her at every turn, and her muscles bunch and strain to not be swept away. It’s improbably difficult, the most difficult thing she’s ever done, but she grasps the edge of the shore with peeling hands and heaves her bloody body unto the ground.

Her entire body is one throbbing wound. Perhaps she should have listened to Charon before diving headfirst into the river, but it’s too late for regrets.

“Are you insane?” a thunderous voice demands, and then she’s being lifted by strong arms until she’s settled against a muscular chest.

She forces her eyes open, and the man glaring down at her has hair the color of the night sky and skin as pale as bone. His nose is long and sharp, his mouth wide and thin. The only bits of colors are his eyes, a green so dark that at first glance they look black. She raises a hand and cups his face, and the water clinging to her doesn’t seem to hurt him the way it hurt her. “Hades,” she says, and everything pains her just as much as before but his skin soothes hers. The skin on her palms comes away healed.

He’s angry with her, but his touch is gentle. There’s not a stitch of clothing on her, but he doesn’t glance or grope, only pulls her against him and uses the sleeve of his robe to clear the burning water from her face. “Yes, insane goddess, I am Hades.”

She had not meant to meet him, only to hide among his realm until she could think of a better plan. But she likes him already, an instantaneous and childish feeling, one she can’t remember having before.

She turns into his chest and lets out a pleased sigh, content to go wherever he brings her.

“They call me Kore.”



gods and monsters series, part vii

Those Four Words

Summary: “You absolute fucking prick.”

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: Teen+

Warnings: Swearing (guess it’s a little late for that though whoops I’ll just put that in the tags), food mention

A/N: Inspired by a debate between @botanistlester@insanityplaysfics, and some anons on Phanfiction Catalogue about whether Dan or Phil would propose. I, um, might have been one of those anons btw (*cough* #TeamEliza *cough*). I hope this serves as an acceptable compromise.

read on ao3


“Hey.”

Dan doesn’t bother to look away from the episode of Steven Universe they’re watching, acknowledging his boyfriend only with a noncommittal sound somewhere between a hum and a grunt. Phil’s using his ‘idea’ voice, and as it’s barely past ten in the morning and Dan was up pacing the lounge until nearly five, he has neither the energy nor the mental capacity to pay attention to anything more complicated than cartoons right now. He pops another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and hopes whatever Phil has to say is brief.

(He gets his wish).

“Marry me?” Phil says in the exact same tone he used last week when he suggested that they go miniature golfing in the middle of a typical London downpour.

Keep reading

Nessian Sleeping HC

-Once Nesta and Cassian are actually sleeping together, as in snoozing, not sexually, Cassian always wraps his wings around her. 

 -It gets to a point where they literally take naps together because the weight of his wings are a staple in their sleeping process On the bed. On the couch. In a cot. In a hammock. Sometimes, on the floor. Literally, everywhere.

 -They never talk about it, though. It just kinda happened once or twice, and then they kept doing it. It’s been months now.

 -But Cassian gets hauled away for a few days, and it’s a problem™

 -Nesta literally cannot sleep. She tries, but she can’t even get one second. She knows it’s from a lack of favorite Illyrian’s wings cocooning her.

 -After two days, the entire Inner Circle knows how irritable Nesta is. They’re chilling at the townhouse, and there has been a tense silence for the past ten minutes after Elain said something and Nesta verbally berated her. 

-Mor watches with her mouth agape. Azriel looks everywhere but Nesta. Amren  left. Elain blinks a lot at her sister. Rhys’s eyebrows are raised. They all know Nesta would raise hell at anyone, except Elain. Never Elain.

 -Feyre breaks first and asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 -”I’m fine,” Nesta snaps back very sharply. 

-More silence.

-”You know he’ll be fine, right?” Rhys asks.

-Nesta snarls at him because of course she knows he’ll be alright. 

-Nesta has a third night of no sleep.

-The next day she adventures into Velaris to try and find one of those “weighted blankets” that she heard were great for children. At the store, they also sell those human torso cuddle pillows. She buys one of those too.

-When she goes to bed at night, the weight of everything matches her usual sleeping buddy, but the scents off. She climbs out of bed and changes the torso’s shirt to Cassian’s, dresses herself in one of his shirts, and squirts his cologne on the blanket. It literally takes seconds after she slides into bed for her to fall asleep. 

-After her three all-nighters, she swears that she’s never slept that good in her entire life. 

-A week passes, then Cassian comes home in the middle of the night. 

-He slips into their room, quietly undressing himself so he doesn’t wake Nesta. When he turns around though, he’s very confused as to why the blankets look different and everything’s so lumpy. 

-”Nesta?”

-She cracks open a sleepy eye at him from under her brow. “Hey,” she smiles slightly, “You’re back.”

-”Yeah, I am. What happened to our bed?” he asks carefully. 

-She looks slightly confused, but moves the weighted blanket with some effort to reveal the cuddle pillow. “I missed you.”

-He gives her an almost pitying glance before finding their old blanket tucked in the corner and replacing the weighted one. The cuddle pillow is thrown across the room, and his wing wraps very tightly around her.

-”I missed you too, Sweetheart.” He kisses her forehead. 

-”I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbles, clearly about to succumb for the night.

-”I’m sorry I have that effect on you.”

-”It’s okay. I managed.”

-She lets loose a yawn similar to a cat before burrowing tightly into his chest. They both sleep well into the afternoon. Nesta can’t believe that her homemade concoction was anywhere close to the real deal. 

deal | pt 2 (m)

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

summary: the years spent working hard had really paid off and was it so wrong to want to rub that in a few faces? The cliché mean girls that often teased you for not doing anything with your hair or clothing, wouldn’t it be great to show off someone like Jungkook? High school reunion au + ceo!jeon

word count: 6,848 

warning: pure filth you’re welcome

part one | part three


Jungkook is no longer tender, his lips ravish your body in such a way that it has you believing that the powerful kiss you had shared earlier that evening was nothing but a mere brush of flesh upon flesh.  Hands don’t hold you like priceless porcelain, instead it’s with a vice like grip that he clings to the skin of your hips almost as if he’d cease to exist if he let go.

Keep reading

BRACELET

Imagine starts at 55 seconds.

And thank you so much for 1000+ notes!


“You guys having fun?”

The thousands of cheers from around the sold out stadium echoes through the cool night, every single one directed towards Justin. It’s kind of crazy to think about it - that people literally spend hundreds of dollars just to see him from what probably is a shitty seat at the back of an arena, but at the same time its flattering, and by now I bet his rather used to it.

“I don’t know if you guys heard me, Are you guys having fun tonight?!” He repeats into the mic, fiddling with the gold chain bracelet around his hand.

Once again the stadium filled with screams and cheers from the beliebers, this time twice as loud. I watch as Justin let his eyes drift over to the side of the arena, and decides to yell “Top row, you guys having up there?!” And they continue to cheer.

Then the other side, “What about this side, you guys having fun up there?!”

A small smile fell onto his face as he leans back and removes the gum from his mouth muttering, “Alright, as long as were having fun. Just livin’ the moment.”

Then continues to move forward and lightly strum the first notes to Cold Water. A second later his hand moves back to his mouth, placing the gum he removed earlier back inside. I can’t help but roll my eyes at my boyfriends indecisiveness. Once more he continues to strum the guitar before for the third time, removing his hand and looking down onto the chain.

“This damn bracelet is annoying.”

Suddenly moving his wrist towards the guitar and using his bracelet to tap the strings while saying, “You see all this noise, I don’t like that noise. It sounds wrong. I’m not diggin’ it.”

I can’t help but smile. Its so cute when he just speaks his mind, and I can tell the crowd feels the same since I do notice a few people chuckling up the front.

Turning towards the wings of the stage, where Scooter, I and the backstage crew are all standing, he jokingly adds, “See Y/N this is your fault - Giving me this bracelet.”

After fumbling around with it for a while trying to remove it, he grumbles “Stupid bitch.” Under his breath, causing not only me but the crowd to laugh. “One second guys.” He announces.

While still attempting to take off the bracelet I bought him for our 3 year anniversary, he decides to make a witty joke, beginning it with, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

The crowd actually responded with a whole lot of “Why’s?” And justin immediately respondes with “He wanted to get to the other side.”

A small smile cracks his lips as the crowd chuckles at his terrible joke and even chose to acknowledge how dumb it was by adding, “That was stupid.” then adds “but it was funny.”

Finally giving up, his head shoots up to look around the crowd asking “Does someone wanna come help me get this off my wrist?”

Girls from the crowd shoot up and cheer immediately with there hands in the air. As for Justin who is still sitting and waiting for someone come to his rescue. Scooter waists no time in suddenly beginning to push on my back, motioning me forward.

“What?”

“Go help him.” He demands with a smirk.

“What?!” My eyes trail down my body, instinctively cringing at my purpose sweatpants and staff hoodie I chose to wear. I looked terrible. “Nah-ah. No way.”

“Who cares about what your wearing, go help him!” He chuckles.

“I care! Plus I don’t wanna just walk out on stage! That’s scary.” I pout but scooter shows no remorse.

“Just go!” He puts his arms on my shoulders and pushes me out onto the stage. This time, I can’t turn back because by the way every one in the crowd has heightened there screams, they’ve definitely seen me.

I sigh and mentally note ‘there no turning back now’ before jogging forward over to the seat Justin was seated on by the edge. Justin’s eyes trail around the stage, looking for the reason the screams in the crowd have increased, and once seeing me making my way over, smiles and extends a hand for me to grab.

I don’t hesitate to reach for his gesture and quickly dash over to remove this bracelet as fast as I can so I can get off the stage as soon as possible. At first, Justin is no help at all. Instead, he begins rubbing my arm and trying to get me to sit and stay next to him. “Justin, stop fidgeting.” I laugh.

Justin shrugs his shoulders as if not having any idea what I was talking about before settling and begins cooperating with the process. This bracelet is so damn stubborn! But after some pull and tug, Justin says, “Pull it from this side.”

“Yeah, and you unclip it from over there.”

The crowd aw’s in affection at our teamwork.

As we work together and finally get the bracelet removed, I jump up in achievement and grab a hold of the bracelet myself. As I’m about to make my way back off stage, Justin grabs my arm and pulls me back pouting. “Stay.”

I chuckle nervously and take a glance at the screaming crowd in anticipation, finally turning back to Justin to shake my head.

“Oh c'mon!” He encourages, grabbing my hip and pulling me towards him. I fall onto the seat beside him, my back pressed against his side while his arm rest around my waist. “Have a little fun. I’ll sing you a nice sooong.” He coo’s as if I was a child. “give you a little kiiiss. We can cuddllle.”

“Shut up.” I chuckle to which Justin smiles.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Meanwhile, the crowd has hit the fan, their cheers going wild in a frenzy of excitement. Justin places his arm around my shoulders while using his hand to hold the right notes on the guitar neck. His other hand strumming lightly at the body.

After commenting about how terribly the guitar is tuned, he finally begins singing Cold water in a soft, melodic tone.

“Everybody gets high sometimes you know…What else can we do when were feelin’ low? - C'mon sing it with me baby!”

I chuckle at his enthusiasm and decide to not ruin the song and just keep my mouth shut, but frozen with a smile.

“So I wanna lay with you told I’m old!” He sang, causing my to furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“Baby you sang it wrong.” I whispered into his side.

Still strumming the guitar, he looks over at me “Really? I did? Well then how does it go?”

“It goes, ’What else can we do when were feelin’ low? So take a deep breath and let it go -…” I quickly sing as Justin smirks.

I hadn’t realised that justin had actually moved the mic towards me, causing my voice to echo throughout the entire arena, the crowd cheering like crazy in the background while Justin smirked menacingly.

“Hey!” I pouted. “You stuffed the lyrics on purpose!”

“How’d you know?” He chuckled sarcastically. “Well, since you started it you gotta finish. C'mon baby lets go!”

Movie Night || Tom Holland

Originally posted by tom-hollcnd

Relationship: Tom Holland x reader

Summary: A movie night leads to more than planned when you discover just what Tom gets ups to after you’ve left.

Warnings: S M U T (18+)

Word Count: 1755 words.

A/N: OW;EDFJKLBE;ROGISDFHN’AOREIDFJKX


Keep reading

Mouth o’ Mine

Harry X Reader: Angst, smut

In which Harry’s no good with his words but he sure is good with his mouth.

Request? Yes:

some harry face sitting action maybe?

Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Mess o’ Mine.” I would suggest reading that first, if you haven’t already. I thought this was gonna be the end but then I fucked up so… there’s also a part 3. Hope you enjoy! I did!

Part 1: Mess o’ Mine // Part 3: Mind o’ Mine


You’ve been running through the events that have occurred, confused at the escalation and the outcome. No issues have been resolved, and there wasn’t really a conversation or discussion. You don’t know any more than you did when you heard Harry singing your poems. Has he used your writing in more songs on his album?  Has he read your whole journal? God, you hope not. One poem is bad enough.

Harry hasn’t been around, hasn’t tried calling for the two weeks since he showed up on your doorstep. You’ve flipped the channel whenever he shows up on your television and scrolled at record speed when he’s popped up on your social media feeds. Maybe you should feel relieved and cleansed of his toxicity, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a little broken, like your stomach is splintering into pieces, and your mind still feels split open. Not only that, but you can smell him, feel the weight of him on top of you, taste the foreign flavor of his mouth. This isn’t what you need.

A whole other wave of confusion has rolled over you in terms of your relationship with Harry, if there still is one. The two of you have crossed a line without any prior thought or contemplation. Years upon years of friendship have been threatened, and you’re not even sure how it happened. Why did he kiss you? How did the two of you end up in bed, naked between the sheets? If you were confused about it before, trying to figure things out has only worsened your introspection.

Keep reading

Writing is Hard, part 7: The Shower

Summary: Dean doesn’t appreciate the story you write about your first time.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warning: Smut, awkward sex gone wrong (but it gets fixed!)

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


It’s a little sweaty when you wake up. Dean’s on his stomach with his face turned away from you, snoring a tiny bit, his body sprawling over the king-sized bed and leaving you curled up in one tiny little corner.

He does look good, though. The sunlight can’t get through the curtains, but you left a lamp on, and the muscles of his back are all exposed in the dim light. You lean up to get a better view and appreciate him fully, and instantly groan. Your muscles hurt. Apparently, you’ve been curled up in knots all night, and you desperately need to stretch out.

Keep reading

a love spell, or something like it

inspired by a post sara reblogged (this one, specifically) and the resulting conversation about different love spells, where she suggested i write the fic. i said no, go away, it’s late. then i stayed up and wrote the fic.

This doesn’t make any sense.

Though they’d never admit it—Dean especially would never admit it—they’re practically witches themselves at this point. Sam isn’t deluded enough to think otherwise. He has a fair share of spells up his sleeve that he knows by heart by now, a few more he’s working on remembering, and some he still struggles with the incantation, but at the end of the day they frequently speak Latin and throw herbs into flames, so, logically, they’re witches, or close enough to it.

And it’s because of this (and his own unfortunate experience that no one must ever speak of again, thanks) that Sam knows a love spell when he sees one.

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Jump me, bro?


Prompted myself with: “I just want a neighborhood AU where Stiles is the bro-iest bro to ever bro and Derek pines after him anyway.”

I’m trying to get better about moving my twitterfics over to a more readable format without overthinking them, so we’ll see how that goes. (Also on AO3)

Derek’s house is a couple doors down from what he’s pretty sure is a frat house-wannabe. He’d drop the qualifier—as an undergrad, he’d unfortunately lived close enough to frat row to recognize the distinctive loud parties, music thumping late into the night, a stream of girls constantly flowing in and out the doors, bros drunkenly crooning along to badly-tuned guitars—but as far as he can tell, all of the guys are at least a few years out of college.

Resisting the urge to call the cops with a noise complaint takes some effort. Derek doesn’t particularly want to be that guy, though; he still has to live in this neighborhood. And a part of him, much as he doesn’t want to admit it, simply wishes he’d been invited. It’s not that it sounds like fun, exactly. Derek didn’t enjoy those types of parties when he was in college, and he’s not nearly old enough yet for the nostalgia to kick in. It’s just that…well, it would be nice to be included.

He carefully doesn’t think about the fact that the shift from outright irritation to a sort of wistful longing happened around the time that he saw one particular guy hanging around in front of the house, surrounded by his friends.

Derek does not find frat bros attractive. He never has. He never will. A certain long-limbed guy with an infectious laugh and warm brown eyes won’t change that.

He finds other ways to channel his frustration, some more productive than others. On nights when he takes his trash to the curb, he makes his way down to the overstuffed bins haphazardly jumbled in front of the pseudo-frat house. Under cover of darkness, shielded by the noise pouring through the brightly-lit windows, he sorts through the upper layers of his neighbors’ trash, separating stacks of greasy pizza boxes from sticky piles of beer cans.

It’s primarily to be a good citizen. Every house in the neighborhood has separate recycling bins—they’re even color coded, making it incredibly easy to put the correct materials in the appropriate spot. Derek’s just doing his part for the environment, since his obnoxious neighbors refuse to take a few extra seconds out of their day. At least, that’s what he tells himself when he’s sticking his fingers in strangers’ trash. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t count as trespassing if he’s not actually going into the yard, and he’s not stealing anything. Just…moving things around a little.

The other reason’s one he doesn’t like to dwell on. The rational side of his brain recognizes that the guys in this house don’t even know him, so why would they invite him over? This isn’t like high school, when he was the nerd people intentionally ignored. They’re living their lives, he’s living his, and it’s perfectly natural for them to not intersect.

But one night, as Derek slaps the lid of the recycling bin shut, wishing he’d brought a roll of paper towels or maybe even some wet wipes, he looks up and finds one of the bros standing on the front porch, watching him.

Derek freezes in place. He can’t immediately identify the person; from the street, all he can see is a tall, athletic figure backlit by the open front door. He’s expecting to be chased off the property, probably cussed out in the process, but the guy comes down the steps and lifts the lid of the recycling bin, dropping his empty beer can inside.

“Thanks for doing that, bro,” he says. “The guys don’t spend a lotta time thinking about the environment.”

It’s not just a bro. It’s the bro. The one Derek hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. His first time speaking to Derek, and it’s because he caught Derek rummaging around in his garbage late at night.

“You’re uh, you’re welcome,” Derek says.

Fortunately, the guy doesn’t seem to care about getting an explanation. He introduces himself instead: Stiles. Of course his name would be equally intriguing, Derek thinks, annoyed with himself for even caring about this interaction.

Derek gives his name in turn, wondering if he should point out his house to make his presence here seem less weird, but Stiles doesn’t seem inclined to linger in the cold. He heads back inside, giving Derek a brief, friendly wave before shutting the door again.

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Cheeky

Request from the lovely @crystalbaby12 for a Jax x Reader based on the following prompt:

#78 - “I need you to be my girlfriend for about 5 minutes.”

Sorry I didn’t include both prompts that you originally asked for!!! Hope you still like it x

Originally posted by journeyslegend

A whistle catches your attention, Jax smiling widely at you from across the room. Getting up, you move over to him, eye brows raised in question.

“Last time I checked, I’m not a dog. My name will do if you need my attention.” He continues to grin as you eventually end up smiling, a common reaction when faced with the man you love.

“I always need your attention, darlin.” he flirts, the playful banter a daily occurrence for the two of you. Though you expect it’s harmless on his end, you can’t help but fall deeper and harder for him, him having no idea about your feelings.

“Doesn’t everyone?” you ask sarcastically, moving to stand beside him, the two of you watching as Gemma and some of the others set the table, a family dinner about to take place. You had of course been invited, Gemma loving you like her own, you and Jax being as close as can be since the two of you met each other four years ago.

“You know how you love me?” Your heart stops for a moment, until your mind catches up and realise he’s just talking platonically, your face flushing all the same. “I need you to do me a favour.”

“Is that so? What’s in it for me?” you question, lifting your bottle of beer to your lips, Jax watching you intently. He continues to smile at you, the look of pure adoration as clear as day to outsiders. But not to you.

“Can’t you just help me out of the goodness of your pretty, pretty heart? You wound me.“ He places his hand on his chest, faux offense on his face. Rolling your eyes, you nudge his body with your own, your skin tingling at the connection.

“What do you need?” You wait for him to respond, genuine curiosity on your face. You had no idea what he needed from you, but knowing Jax, it wouldn’t be simple.

“I need you to be my girlfriend for about five minutes.” The alcohol gets stuck in your throat at his request, an unattractive cough breaking out as you try to recompose yourself. Jax chuckles, shaking his head as he watches you with amusement, liking that he can catch you off guard after all this time.

“No way! I refuse to put myself through such torture.” you say, covering up for the fact that you’d actually love to be his girlfriend. Not just for five minutes, though. For a lot longer.

“You haven’t even heard my reasons yet!” he laughs, used to your stubborn behavior. He grabs your hand, his huge one covering your smaller one so perfectly, his skin warm and comforting as he leads you outside the back, the others not noticing as you slip away.

Once you’re outside, Jax pulls a cigarette from his pocket, offering you one in the process, you declining. “Those things’ll kill you, you know.”

“I’ve heard there’s quite a queue, they’ll have to get in line.” Jax jests, his lungs inhaling the nicotine before the smoke escapes from his lips, your fingers tightly gripping your bottle as you remind yourself to breathe.

“So, please entertain me. Why do you need me to fake date you? I’m sure you’re not short on potential candidates.” You hike yourself up onto the brick wall, your boots just about touching the floor.

“Straight to the point, as usual.” He takes a seat next to you, your thigh brushing his in such a delightful way. “My mom has invited some chick round, thinks we’d get on well.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut, the thought of Jax with somebody else so painful even though you should be used to it by now, females seeming to be everywere he goes.

“You never know, you might like her. Your mom has good taste.” you encourage, trying to keep your expression as natural as possible, not wanting to let on how you really feel about this idea.

Jax shrugs, taking his last drag before throwing the stub to the floor, his eyes finding yours, you looking down from the intensity of his gaze. “Of course she has good taste. She’s been trying to hook us up for years.”

You smile into your lap, a red hot blush covering your cheeks as butterflies flutter in your stomach as Jax gauges your reaction.

“Is that so?” you challenge, the tension between the two of you rising as you look up at Jax, determined to hold his gaze as your faces stay only inches apart.

Jax hums in confirmation, his tongue running over his bottom lip. You break away, your eyes moving in front of you. His thigh moves from yours as he pushes himself off the wall, his body coming to stand in front of you as he pulls you up, you letting him.

“This is new.” you say as Jax pulls you closer to him, his hands resting on your back to keep you from moving away, not that you would. Nevertheless, you remain stiff, not wanting to make a move incase it’s too much.

Jax senses this, rolling his eyes dramatically, huffing as he leads your arms, placing them around his neck, his hands going back to where they were before as you’re pressed up against one another.

“Does that bother you?” he mumurs, the distance between you so small that even if he whispered, you’d hear it as clear as day. You shrug your shoulders shyly, your cheeks definitely a bright shade of red. “You’ve gotta get used to this if you wanna be convincing.”

You can’t control your change in moods as you realise Jax is only doing all of this so you’ll help him get rid of some chick, a sigh leaving your lips as you push at his chest, a confused expression on his face as he removes his grip from you, you stepping back to create distance.

“Is that all I’m useful for, hm? Helping you make excuses so your entourage backs off?” Jax goes to defend himself, you stopping him with your hand. “Save it, Jackson. Thanks for making it clear.”

“Making what clear? What are you talking about?” He grabs your wrist as you turn away, you snatching your arm back as if you’ve been burnt by his touch. He looks completely clueless as he studies you, you trying to compose yourself before you start blubbering in front of him.

“I’m talking about us!” you say, gesturing between the two of you. Sighing, you run your hand through your fringe, trying to think before you speak. “I get that I’m not enough for you, that all I’ll ever be is a friend. But really, asking me to be your girlfriend for five minutes before you drop me again? I’ll pass, thanks.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind! You’ve done it for me before-” Jax stops mid sentence, realisation hitting him in the face like a bus. You frown as he begins to smile, his tongue slipping out of his mouth slightly as he nods towards you. “You’re jealous aren’t you?”

You freeze for a moment, shock on your face, before you feign disgust. Scoffing, you cross your arms defensively. “You wish.”

“Don’t try and lie to me, don’t forget I know you better than anyone.” You curse under your breath as you realise you’ve stepped in a big pile of metaphorical dog shit, and you’re unable to see a way out of it. “You like me.”

“Obviously. You’re my best friend.” you say, trying to remain casual. Jax slowly moves closer to you, you moving backwards until you come into contact with the side of the house, the brick firm against your back. Jax continues to move as you stand, trapped, your palms sweaty due to your nerves.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” he teases, his hands being placed either side of your head as he boxes you in, his face hovering just above yours. “You like me, like me.

“What are you, twelve?” You keep your eyes focused on his, your anxiety almost getting the better of you. Your stomach flips when you see his gaze flick to your lips, you swallowing nervously.

He moves even closer to you, your eyes fluttering closed as he brushes his nose against yours, his breath fanning onto your lips. “I don’t hear any denial.”

“Just kiss me if you’re going to, you idiot.” You open your eyes quick enough to catch Jax with slight shock on his face, before you close them again at the feel of his lips upon yours. You grip his shirt in your fist as you enjoy the moment you’ve been dreaming about for years.

Jax sucks on your bottom lip teasingly, a moan erupting from inside of you. You’re embarrassed for a moment, that is until Jax moans in response, his hands sliding to your ass as he squeezes, lifting you up and pushing you against the brick.

“Guys-” Chibs’ voice interrupts the two of you, his sentence cut short as he sees how you’re occupied. He smirks, you red faced as Jax remains calm and collected. “Gemma is looking for you. No rush, though, take your time.”

He winks at the two of you before disappearing back inside, Jax still holding you as you wiggle to get down. Chuckling, Jax complies with your request, placing you carefully back on the floor. “Continue this later?”

You hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, his skin warm as he flexes under your touch. Leaning up, you move to his ear, your hand drifting to the waistband of his boxers.

“We’ll see.” With that, you separate from him quickly, slipping back inside with a parting wink.

A/N - Longer than usual but I hope you guys liked it anyway! Xxx

buzz | 1.0 (m)

 pairing: min yoongi x reader
• genre/warnings: smut, masturbation with a twist, non-penetrative sex toy usage 
• words: 4,851
→ summary: in which you’re unsure if you’ve ever received an orgasm and when you finally pluck up the courage to use the vibrator you bought that one day on a whim, Yoongi barges through the door…

» 1.0 :: 2.0 :: 3.0  ✓  
↳ yoongi’s pov +

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