but I started working on this last week and just finished it

I Think I’m in Love With My Tutor  (Newt x Ravenclaw!Reader)

**Not my gif**

Request:  Heyyyy!!!! First ilysm, second, can you do a newt x ravenclaw! reader and she is forced to tutor him for his bad subjects but they end up liking each other!! FLUFFY PLZTAHNK YOU - @just-a-bit-odd

THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I’VE WRITTEN AT 1777 WORDS AND I LOVE IT TO PIECES I’M SO PROUD OF MYSELF AND I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT AS WELL


You were Y/N L/N, one of the brightest Ravenclaws at Hogwarts.  The top in all your classes and well-liked by your teachers and peers.

It was the end of your potions class.  You neatly tucked your book and quills into your bag and were on your way out the door, but your professor stopped you.

“Miss L/N?”

“Yes, professor?”

“It appears one of my Hufflepuff students has been struggling with his work.  If he fails my class, he’ll have to take it again.”

“And what do you need me for?” you questioned.

“Since you’re one of the best students, I figured you could tutor him.  I’ll gladly give you some extra credit for it, though I’m sure you don’t need it.

“Lovely.  Who is this boy?”

“Newt Scamander.”

Your mind starting racing.  Oh Merlin.  The adorable Hufflepuff with the freckles and always smells like cinnamon but no one knows why?  The one that loves nothing more than magical beasts and creatures?

“Miss L/N?”

You snapped out of your daze.  “What?  Oh–uh–yes, of course I’ll tutor him.”

“Thank you.  He tends to daydream during class.  Once he nearly dropped his baby bowtruckle… oh what’s its name… Stickett?  Kickett?  Something like that.  Starting tomorrow you will meet in the library an hour before dinner,” your professor finished.  

You nodded.  “I won’t let you down, professor.  But there is one more thing I need.”

“And what is that?”

“Could you write me a late pass?”

**Time skip to next day**

Your potions books were neatly stacked in your arms as you quickly made your way to the library.  You were very eager to see Newt, even though you were pretty sure he had never heard of you.

You are not going to make a fool out of yourself, Y/N!  You thought to yourself.

You kicked open the library door since you were holding books, which earned you a lovely “SHH!” and a stern glare from Madam Pince.  You flinched and mouthed a quick “sorry” and walked behind a bookshelf out of her sight to the table where you saw Newt sitting.  He appeared to be talking quietly to a tiny, green stick-like creature.

You set your books down, causing him to rapidly look up and the creature to scramble and bury himself in Newt’s breast pocket.

“O-oh, hello.  I didn’t see you there,” Newt said.

You smiled.  “I’m sorry I startled you and your… uh…  pet?”

Newt cocked his head and then realized what you were talking about.  “Oh!  That’s Pickett, my bowtruckle.  He has some attachment issues.”  Pickett popped his head out of Newt’s pocket at the sound of his name.  

“He’s quite adorable,” you replied, observing the bowtruckle.

The little bowtruckle made a tiny squeaking noise as to say “thank you.”

Newt smiled in the cutest, dorkiest way possible.  No one had ever complimented his creatures before.  “He likes you.”

“I would hope so,” you said.  “Now let’s get started on your studies, Newt.”

Newt all of a sudden flushed a deep shade of red.  “Uh… what if I told you I didn’t know your name…?”

You chuckled.  “No need to be embarrassed.  It’s Y/N L/N.”

“That’s very pretty…,” he whispered under his breath thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“What?  Did you say my name is pretty?”

Newt’s eyes got unbelievably large and his cheeks unbelievably pink.  “What?  Oh–uh–no!  I mean it is–but–!”

You cut him off with a giggle.  “It’s fine!  Don’t beat yourself up.”

Newt looked utterly relieved.

“So, shall we begin?”

**

You spent the next hour going over potion basics with Newt.

“Okay.  How long does it take to brew polyjuice potion?”

Newt knit his eyebrows.  “Isn’t it… ten minutes to twelve hours?” Newt answered

sounding unsure.

“Well… you’re close.  That’s how long the effects last.  To brew the actual potion takes one month,” you corrected in a kind tone.

“Sorry… potions has never been my best subject.”

“Don’t apologize.  Care of magical creatures has never been my best subject,” you said, trying to make him feel better.  “But I need to know this in order to help you learn.  Do you really just not understand potions at all or do you just not pay attention?”

Newt thought for a moment and then turned a light shade of crimson.  “I guess a bit of both…?”

Hearing this, Pickett popped out of his pocket and whacked Newt’s face with his slim, green twig-like arm before ducking back down.

“Newt.” You spoke in a stern tone.

He sighed.  “Fine!  I don’t pay attention… it’s not interesting to me.”

You nodded.  “I understand, but it’s important if you want to pass your N.E.W.T.S. and graduate.  It’d be kind of sad if you fail a test that literally has your name in it.  But that’s why I’m here, to make sure you ace it.”  You glanced at the dusty old clock on the wall.  It was time for dinner.  “Well, we ought to get going to the Great Hall.  Same time tomorrow?”

Newt nodded.  “Yes.  Thank you, Y/N.  For tutoring an idiot like me.”

“Newt!  Don’t say that to yourself.  By the time N.E.W.T.S. roll around, you’ll be a pro with potions.”

You closed your books, picked them up, and went on your way to the Great Hall.

Newt stayed seated, thinking.  When the professor told me I was being assigned a tutor, I didn’t expect it to be the lovely Ravenclaw girl that sits in front of me in Charms.  I wonder if she sees me the same way… Oh, Newton, what are you thinking?  This is just charity work.

**

The same time for the next two weeks, you met Newt in the library to read from your books and quiz Newt’s knowledge on potions.  But today you wanted more hands-on with potions.  You asked your professor if you could use the potions for what was next in your book: amortentia.  Your professor trusted you and granted you permission as long as you or Newt didn’t drink it and got rid of the extremely powerful love potion straight after.  Of course you accepted the rules; you would never use a potion to win someone’s heart.  You would hate knowing that someone loved you only because you drugged them.

The professor informed Newt of this location change during his class.

**Time skip**

You were patiently waiting in the potions room alone, standing beside a cauldron.  Originally you were going to get there early and have all the ingredients laying out and ready to be used, but you decided to leave that to Newt.  After all, he had to learn somehow.

After five minutes, Newt came stumbling through the door, panting.

“S-so sorry I’m late,” he panted.  “There was a–uh–incident, in the forest.”

You chuckled at how cute he looked.  “No worries.  Anywho, today I’ll be teaching you about amortentia.  You know what that is, right?”

He nodded.  “An extremely powerful love potion.”

You smiled.  “Correct.  Are you familiar with the ingredients?”

“Uh… I think I know two.  Ashwinder eggs and… peppermint?”

“You’re right.”  Newt grinned when he heard this.  “The others are rose thorns, powdered moonstone, and a pearl dust.  Now, would you please get them from the shelves?”  

Being a wizard and all, Newt whipped out his wand and accio-ed all the ingredients to him which he then placed on the table in a neat, orderly line.

You clapped your hands together.  “Wonderful!”  You grabbed one of your potions books and flipped the amortentia page and lay it out for Newt to see.  “I’m not going to help you brew it.”  

Newt’s face dropped a bit.

“However, I will let you know if you’re doing something wrong that could result in the deaths of both of us.  Got it?”

“Y-yes,” Newt answered, tad worried.

“Then go ahead get started.”

Surprisingly (but not so surprisingly since you’re the best tutor ever), Newt did everything right.  The amount of each ingredient was correct, and he stirred them in the correct way, counterclockwise.  Once he was finished, the potion was shiny and steam lifted in a spiral shape.

Newt set the ladle down.  “Did I do it right?”

You nodded and smiled.  “Perfectly!”  You leaned over the cauldron and inhales it’s scent.  “Hmm… F/S, F/S, and… huh… I can’t make out that last one… What does it smell like to you?”

Newt sniffed the potion.  “Clean wool, cocoa… and…,”  His eyes got large.

You looked at Newt with concern.  “Is something wrong?  What is it?”

Newt turned his gaze to the floor.  “Your hair…,” he whispered, nearly inaudible.

You blushed.  “It smells like my hair?” you said quietly.  Your mind was racing.  MERLIN I’m something he loves!!!

“Yes…” Newt replied just as quiet as last time.

You gently put a finger under his chin and tilted it up to look you in the eyes.  “That’s okay… because my third smell was your hair.”

Newt blushed immensely.  Pickett suddenly appeared out of his pocket and squeaked.  

What happened next was something you’d never thought Newt Scamander would do in a million years.  

Newt quickly leaned in and kissed you.  It only lasted a second before he pulled away to

look at you in complete silence.  But then you grabbed his collar and pulled him in for another kiss, this one longer and full of passion.  Newt’s hands feebly found there way to your waist (aw he’s such a cute muffin) while yours tangled themselves in his light brown curls.

When you had to pull away for air, you were all smiles.

“Y/N, you probably already realized this but… I love you,” Newt said.

“You should have seen me when I was told I was going to get to tutor you… I love you too, Newt.”

Pickett popped out again and made a mad squeaking noise.

You giggled.  “You too, Pickett.”

Newt looked at the clock.  “We’re five minutes late for dinner, we should get going.  I assume tomorrow’s session will be more… interesting?”

You raised your eyebrows and laughed.  “Wow, Newt.  And I thought you were innocent!  You go ahead to the Great Hall, I need to get rid of this amortentia.”

Instead of walking out the door, Newt came around behind you and wrapped his arms around you tightly, resting his chin on your head.  “I’m not leaving without you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet.”

“And the Slytherins said I could never get a girlfriend,” he said and kissed your head.

You leaned back into his embrace.“Well, we’ll show them, won’t we?”

“Am I allowed to carry you to the Great Hall?”


AHH I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I do!  Please let me know what you thought of it!

rollingstone.com
Harry Styles: Singer Opens Up About Famous Flings, Honest New LP
One Direction's Harry Styles goes deep on love, family and his heartfelt new solo debut in our revealing feature.

January 2016. There’s a bench at the top of Primrose Hill, in London, that looks out over the skyline of the city. If you’d passed by it one winter night, you might have seen him sitting there. A lanky guy in a wool hat, overcoat and jogging pants, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Harry Styles had a lot on his mind. He had spent five years as the buoyant fan favorite in One Direction; now, an uncertain future stretched out in front of him. The band had announced an indefinite hiatus. The white noise of adulation was gone, replaced by the hushed sound of the city below.

The fame visited upon Harry Styles in his years with One D was a special kind of mania. With a self-effacing smile, a hint of darkness and the hair invariably described as “tousled,” he became a canvas onto which millions of fans pitched their hopes and dreams. Hell, when he pulled over to the side of the 101 freeway in L.A. and discreetly threw up, the spot became a fan shrine. It’s said the puke was even sold on eBay like pieces of the Berlin Wall. Paul McCartney has interviewed him. Then there was the unauthorized fan-fiction series featuring a punky, sexed-up version of “Harry Styles.” A billion readers followed his virtual exploits. (“Didn’t read it,” comments the nonfiction Styles, “but I hope he gets more than me.”)

But at the height of One D–mania, Styles took a step back. For many, 2016 was a year of lost musical heroes and a toxic new world order. For Styles, it was a search for a new identity that began on that bench overlooking London. What would a solo Harry Styles sound like? A plan came into focus. A song cycle about women and relationships. Ten songs. More of a rock sound. A bold single-color cover to match the working title: Pink. (He quotes the Clash’s Paul Simonon: “Pink is the only true rock & roll colour.”) Many of the details would change over the coming year – including the title, which would end up as Harry Styles – but one word stuck in his head.

Keep reading

Quotes from Harry Styles’ Interview

Writing for his album

“I started the album end of Feb last year for about three weeks and then had to stop for about 5 months when I went to do a movie. I came back to it in July and finished writing it in December. For a while before all I thought about it was stressing about what it was going to be. It gave me a chance to completely step away from it for a bit and have a real break. By the end of the movie, because we were swimming so much I just wanted to write songs…I think we wrote about 70 songs - we did 50 songs and ideas in Jamaica and that’s including like little ideas. Well full songs, I say there are 30 songs probably. One of the songs on the album, I wrote a few years ago.”

On his album

“I was with the guys who I was writing it with and we just wanted to make what we wanted to listen to and that has been the most fun part for me about making the whole album. In the least weird way possible, it’s my favourite album to listen to at the moment… I hope we did a good job but I really like the album so I hope people like it. I think if you put out something that you don’t stand behind and really love, then if it doesn’t go well then you could regret not doing what you wanted to do. Whereas if nothing happens with it, I love it you know so I think that’s what you should do. I think that’s been my favourite part to the overall thing is listening to the album and making all the changes – it has been fun to watch over it all.”

Writing in Jamaica

“I just wanted to not be somewhere that I’d get distracted. It was 360 of writing, you’d go home for dinner, write at the house then go back to the studio. I liked being away from everything and doing it like that.”

About his debut single

“It’s a bit weird, I feel like I’ve been hibernating for so long now and you hear it in the safety of the studio and now it’s time to give birth … it’s the song (debut single) I’m most proud of writing.”

About making it on his own

“I’ve been hibernating trying to get it all ready, that’s been fun, but I like this bit as well. I think it’s gonna be fun, it’s gonna be good. It’s not like I’m travelling on my own now, I have a band and everything and they’re amazing.”

Ed Sheeran

“I played him (Sheeran) a few songs after the album was finished. He didn’t say that he didn’t like any, but he did like one song that isn’t on the album. So I did have a bit of a minute of like hmmm no but…”

On Adele

“I’ve spoken to her a little bit, she knows one of the guys that I wrote it with (his music) a lot. But I don’t think so much advice, I just like how she does stuff. I think she leads by example, she’s the biggest, she’s amazing, she’s the best so she should be the biggest. The thing with her is she’s a different thing, she’s just good at it, I like how she does everything, it looks very nice. For my 21st she gave me one of her albums 21 and said, ‘I did some pretty cool stuff when I was 21, good luck’ and I was like, 'geez’.”

On Dating

“I haven’t dated in a long time really because I went away to do the movie then did the album so I haven’t in a while. I have a couple of candles left still though. 

Whether dating when famous is hard

“I don’t know, maybe. I feel like with all of the stuff how people date now, with all online stuff, I feel like you can do that (Google) with anyone really if you’re looking at someone’s profile before seeing them. It’s kinda the same… No, I used to (research dates), then I said I’m not going to do that anymore, it’s impossible to go in without a perception of someone and you’ve never met them and I started feeling like that was wrong and weird. I think I snore, and also I quite like routine, so I don’t know if I’m ­incredibly spontaneous.”

Cutting his hair for Dunkirk

“I felt very naked for a while. I was like yeah, I’ve gotta shave my hair off. It wasn’t a hard decision, it got made into a wig.”

Why he rarely tweets

“I don’t like saying something for the sake of it.”

Life at home and work

“The first time I went home not wearing trainers, I was in a pair of boots. Someone said, ‘What the bloody hell are they?’ I like to separate working and being at home with family.”

Staying grounded

“It’s easier in the way that I like to separate stuff from working and being at home with family and stuff. When you separate it it’s easier to see it for what it is. When you let it become everything and that’s your whole life, then it’s easy to get a bit lost in it. I’m lucky, I have amazing friends and my family’s amazing so I think they make it easier to keep the separation between the two which makes it easier for me.”

Being nervous about playing his music to others

“I think it’s nerve-racking in that I’ve only played it to like 10 people in a room. I try and not be there if I’m playing it…”

His mother and step-father’s reactions to the album

“I played the album to them the first time and there’s one song that’s got a vocal effect on it, the whole album finished then my stepdad said: ‘I’ve one question, where did you get the duck from, how did you get a duck in the studio?’ I was like: ‘That was me, thanks’. My Mum liked it which was handy. She cried a couple of times which was good, I think that was good.”

Musical Influences

“I think it’s hard to not have influencers from what you grew up listening on. I think everyone reacts differently to different types of music. I had a good range between my mum and dad… my dad listened to Fleetwood, The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd and Queen. My mum was like Norah Jones and Savage Garden. There are a lot of melodies there.”

Being starstruck by other celebrities

“I remember the first time we went to an awards show in the US, we met Will Smith. It was a brief meeting – he was nice and very tall.”

Addressing the rumour about getting a sheep placenta facial

“No I’ve never had a sheep placenta facial.”

Rumours about Hobama

“I’m not allowed to talk about that.”

Rumour on taking his dates on helicopter rides

“No I’ve never done that,” Harry says, with Grimmy responding: “Not even with Barack?”

“No,“ Harry says. “It was his helicopter, haha.”

Talking about Chris Martin

“He’s lovely isn’t he? He is good at telling you to take care of yourself. I think he makes sure you are alright and is very zen. I think he is a pretty wonderful man.”

On Ronnie Wood

“Big fan, I love Ronnie Wood – I think I met him at a dinner party a few years ago and went to a couple of Stones shows…I think he is the nicest.”

Interviewing Paul McCartney for his Another Man issue

“It was amazing – his voice sounds like a song.”

Loving scented candles

“I mean I think everyone loves scented candles. But I usually take one from home if I’m travelling.”

About sprouts being the new kale

“I went two days ago. I got some spinach, eggs, OJ, milk, turkey and some brussels sprouts. Hmm what else did I buy…oh some Crème Eggs. I like putting sprouts in a curry and I like sauteing them. I think they are going to be the new kale. I met [someone] and I asked her what she did and she said ‘I’m the PR lady for Kale’ and I was like ‘good job then.”

Talking about his four nipples

“Still got them, managed to keep them. Maybe I just hide them in limited edition albums, like golden tickets. I’ll hold onto them.”

Best trait

“Best trait I don’t know, it’s weird to pick your best, shall we go with the nipples thing.”

On where not to ask him for a selfie

“I think in toilets is the weirdest one. It’s happened a couple of times… When someone tries to shake your hand right after having a wee, ‘I might wash my hands first’.”

About Liam’s son and being a potential godfather

“I spoke to Liam and he’s loving it. He said it’s going really well and everyone’s great. So I’m very happy for him. I think it’s a roll of the dice, there are a lot of people Liam has in mind. I’m not going to add any extra pressure. If it came my way I would be honoured.”

ask and you shall receive | one (m)

[credit.] 

pairing: jung hoseok x reader, sugar daddy! hoseok
genre/warnings: smut, lots of oral, slow burn, dirty talk, dom! hoseok
words: 13,865
summary: your sugar daddy says you don’t have to sleep with him if you don’t want to…trouble is, you do want to. You’re just nervous and a little inexperienced, but he catches on quick and begins to teach you the true pleasures of sex, and boy, are they good…

 a/n: in the end I had to split this into two parts rip. It was already nearly 14k with just one smut scene haha. but oh well, that means more detail for part two…

Keep reading

Ended a lucrative business relationship because of an incompetent, racist owner.

This happened over the course of the last week.

I hired a company to correct a big sinkage in my basement. They come in and drill holes and spray industrial foam under the flooring to level it. About a week ago they sent a guy over to locate all of the pipes and scope them for damage.

Then about 3 days ago the foam guys show up and get to work. About halfway through they stop and call me into the basement. There’s water running along my baseboards and they’re afraid they’ve hit a pipe.

They call the owner of the scoping company to come over and re-scope the pipes. He does and finds massive corrosion running all through it. I ask him why they didn’t find that on the first scope, and he tell me they weren’t looking for damage they were just locating the pipe. This makes no sense to me as you don’t need to put a camera into a pipe to locate the pipe.

Then he gives me the sales pitch. It’s going to cost between $4000 and $6000 to fix it, but he can get a “crew of cheap Mexicans” out there who “don’t pull permits” and can do it for much less. He says plumbers will rip you off, he used to be a plumber. I ask, “Oh, and you ripped people off?” I tell him no thanks on the labor, I’ll call my basement company back and let them deal with it.

During the course of the conversation with the scoping company owner he tells me they do about 100 of these a week for the basement company. Scoping is $99, cleaning is $125. At least $10,000 a week, probably $500,000 a year they make from the foam guys.

So here’s the rub. When things started to go pear shaped, I do what I used to do back in college when I had to have conversations with police. Put my phone in my shirt pocket and started to record. (No wiretapping laws in my state.) That’s right. I’ve got this guy soliciting illegal labor to me in full living digital color.

The next day, the basement company sends out some licensed and bonded plumbers to fix my pipes for $0 because of the failure to locate the pipes. That’s right, the scoping company marked the pipe FOUR FEET away from where it actually was. The scoping company not only didn’t find any damage, they didn’t even find the pipe. They did literally nothing. The basement plumbers do an excellent, professional job. They bill the scoping company for their time.

This morning the foam guys came back to finish the job and I tell them about the sleaze ball that they’ve contracted. I play the audio for them of the guy trying to sell me on “cheap Mexican” illegal labor. Half of the foam crew is Hispanic men. They are NOT pleased.

The white crew chief tells me, “We are never doing business with that company ever again. I’m calling our owner right now.” He also read me the contract that they had with the scoping company that explicitly says they are to look for damaged pipes, vindicating me once more.

but if sherlock went to hogwarts, you bet he and mcgonagall had the biggest love/hate relationship

she sets him detention at least three times a week because he says things like “you’re a waste of oxygen” to some first year that makes him drop his books on accident in the corridor or because he almost blows up her classroom when he gets bored and he starts casting dangerous, explosive spells when he finishes his work

regardless of all this, she does everything and anything to advance him to a fifth year transfiguration class because he keeps whinging about how bloody easy this third year work is and that he’s not an idiot and his brain cells are decreasing in numbers as he hears this kid next to him trying to complete the task he finished a half hour ago

and sometimes sherlock just creeps down from the ravenclaw tower at like three in the fucking morning just to knock at her door and wave around evidence, because hah! i fucking told you there was a flaw in this technique! and mcgo knows she should give him detention for being out past curfew but she’s just too busy trying to hide her pride and fussing over the fact that he hasn’t slept for the last two days

and because mcgonagall bumped sherlock up to fifth year transfig, he gets seated at the back of her class with gryffindor team captain john watson, who mcgonagall is fond of, too, but not nearly as much as she’s fond of sherlock

and she knows he and sherlock will get along and she needs sherlock to befriend someone responsible like john watson, someone that will tell him to slow down when he’s racing ahead far too fast for even his brain to handle, someone to nag at him to eat a proper meal every once in a while and chide him to sleep somewhat regularly. and she’s just concerned for sherlock because for the three years he’s been there, he’s never seemed to have made any proper friends, and he’s been going through this entire “i’m a high functioning sociopath” phase (it’s NOT a phase, professor! it’s who i am!)

and john and sherlock get along wonderfully, and soon it’s almost as if they’re one person. mcgonagall is pleased when she finds out they’ve become inseparable and even more so when the news starts to spread like wildfire: john watson and sherlock holmes are dating

and everyone claims that mycroft holmes was their favourite, when they’re all a tad older and mycroft’s minister for magic and sherlock’s a consulting auror and john his partner in crime and an excellent healer, but mcgonagall is firm with her preference for sherlock holmes, ever since that arrogant boy sat down in her class and challenged her knowledge of her own subject

and years later, she’s the very first person sherlock puts on the guest list for his and john’s wedding, because god knows how much she’s done for him


just mcgonagall loving a kid as much as she loved the marauders, and that kid driving her mad and that kid being sherlock holmes dammit

Taken for Granted (pt 3)

As Namjoon closed the door behind him, he stood by the entrance, snickering to himself. “Her? Liking me? Wahh” he said silently to himself. He wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling now, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “As if I’d like her?” he said again to himself.

“Hyung what are you doing by yourself there?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“Huh? Oh nothing” Namjoon said, flustered.


(One week later)

“Hey guys, Y/N isn’t coming today! Looks like it’s just us tonight” Jin said, filling his voice through the dorm.

“Awh, whyyy” Taehyung asked, coming out of the living room.

“She said she’s sick” Jin said with a frown.

“Let’s go there then! We can bring her food” Taehyung said, excitedly.

“Yah, if she’s sick she should just rest. She can’t be taking care of you guys too” Jin scolded.

Taehyung walked back to the living room with his head held down. He was looking forward to watching the movie you two had discussed a few weeks ago, but it looks like it would have to wait another week. 

Namjoon meanwhile, listened to everything silently from the dining table. “That’s weird, she never falls sick…” he said to himself. 

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear you” Hoseok said, sitting across from him,

“oh, no it’s nothing” Namjoon said.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

“You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?” au sterek? <3

OK, I wrote you a quick little thing. :)

now also on ao3

*

When Derek shows up at Stiles’ back door that morning with a basket full of about three dozen cookies, all carefully iced to look like Batman and Spider-Man, Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just gets up from the kitchen table and opens the screen door, and then he looks down at the basket for a long, long moment, and then he rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans.

He looks kind of… unkempt. He’s wearing the same sweatpants and lacrosse hoodie he’d had on two days ago when Derek saw him at his mailbox, and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and it’s obvious he hasn’t shaved in a while because there’s some actual stubble there. Derek didn’t think Stiles was even capable of facial hair. It only adds to his attractiveness, but still, Derek can’t help but be concerned.

Derek doesn’t usually start conversations, but today he feels like making an exception. “Are you okay? This is a lot more baking than usual, even for you.”

“What? What do you mean?” Stiles says, dropping his hands to his sides. His face cycles through about five or six different expressions before settling on something that’s probably trying to say “innocent and oblivious,” but… well. Derek might not know Stiles that well, but he knows Stiles is definitely not either of those things, ever.

“The cookies,” Derek says slowly. “That you leave on my doorstep a few times a week while I’m out on my morning run.”

Stiles glares down at the cookies Derek’s holding like they’ve betrayed him.

“We don’t talk about it,” Derek says slowly, unsure, “but I thought you knew that I knew it was you. I mean, no one else in the neighborhood even talks to me.”

Keep reading

Wrong

Originally posted by lumos025

Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.

Words: 8083

Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.

2 years earlier:

You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.

From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.

You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.

The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.

It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.

Present day:

You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.

He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.

He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept. As if he loved it all now.

He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover herself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. They were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.

And then you heard his name.

Followed by yours.

Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.

“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”

Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about being carried by Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though You still didn’t expect the shake of you head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of you head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.

About sex in cinema.

“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper. But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.

“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I can come with you if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”

“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that You were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.

And saw that Jungkook was already waiting. Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.

Even though his expression seemed to say something else.

Oh god. His expression was saying something else.

Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.

And you knew.

“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”

“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”

“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”

“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”

“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”

“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”

You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.

Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.

And it made no difference at all.

“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”

“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”

“You think everything is cool between us?”

“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”

“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”

“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”

“That last one is getting close.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.

Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.

“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.

“But I figure we can work on it.”

“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”

“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”

“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”

“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”

“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”

He didn’t react the way You expected to, with more weird arguing.

He just closed his eyes.

He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.

“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”

“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”

You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.

“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”

The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.

That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.

“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”

You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.

“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”

“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”

“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”

“And I have no argument against it.”

“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.

“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”

He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.

And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.

“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”

“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”

“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.

“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”

“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”

“I think you have a terminal case.”

“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.

And hear it in his words.

“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”

“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”

Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.

He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed. It was just a trick of the light.

Better to focus on the real and the now.

“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.

Then you took a breath and answered.

“Nothing,” You said.

A few weeks later:

After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to their awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.

It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.

As did his silence.

He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.

Until now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”

Like an ominous statue of yourself.

“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”

“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.

“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”

“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”

“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”

“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”

“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”

You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.

“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”

“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”

“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.

“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.

Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.

Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.

You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.

Otherwise he would see you face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.

“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”

“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.

“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”

You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.

His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.

“Maybe she doesn’t care.”

“I guess not.”

“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”

“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.

“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.

Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.

Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”

“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”

“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”

“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”

You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.

Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow. Much too serious.

“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”

“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do those things?”

The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.

But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself.You only knew that when he started talking again You had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.

“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.

But then he kept going.

He kept going.

“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”

“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”

God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.

“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”

“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”

“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”

Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.

“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”

“Yeah but after…”

“After what?”

“After he came then he…”

He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.

Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through. “Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”

“No. No. After that then this happens.”

You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.

Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.

At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.

“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”

“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”

“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”

“Well, maybe not like this.”

“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”

At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.

“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”

“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”

“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.

You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.

Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.

“Think about how it must feel.”

“Yeah I can…I get that…”

“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”

“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly “Uh-huh.”

“And it works?”

You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.

“What works?”

“It makes you…you know. Cum.”

“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”

“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.

“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”

“Where? Where…where are you?”

You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.

Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.

“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”

“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.

No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.

“Then you just…stroke it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Until she’s mindless.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”

You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.

Not even when he was embarrassed.

Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.

You didn’t even know what the something was.

You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.

It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss. Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that. Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.

“You can, you know.”

“Can what?”

“Touch yourself.”

It jolted you, when he said it.

But not as much as realizing why he said it.

You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.

Because his hand was actually between his legs.

“I do,” he said.

As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.

“You do?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”

“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”

“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”

You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.

Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.

“If we could that would be awesome.”

“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”

“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”

“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”

“Seems that way to me.”

“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.

And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.

You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.

But that wasn’t what really got you.

It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it

under his waistband.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”

“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”

“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”

“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”

“Exactly. Exactly.”

But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing. Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…

You really didn’t need to.

He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.

Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.

“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.

Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.

To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.

He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.

Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.

And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.

Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.

And all of it for you.

He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.

“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.

Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.

You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight: Him, casually licking his messy fingers.

It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony. You even winced—then immediately regretted it.

He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.

And asked questions You were loathing to answer.

“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”

“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”

“God, you must be bursting.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.

And of course he could see all of that.

“You look like you’re bursting.”

“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”

“Your voice is shaking.”

“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.

Almost, almost, almost.

“Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Are they?”

“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”

Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.

“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing

“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”

His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.

Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.

“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”

“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”

“Right, exactly. Super intense.”

“So why deny yourself?”

“I’m not…denying…anything.”

“I could leave, if you want.”

“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v

Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded: Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate. Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.

And he took it that way, too.

“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.

Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.

You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.

Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”

“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”

“I always take a lot.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

“Especially when I’m alone.”

“Well, maybe we should see about that.”

Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.

Only without the scariness of the real thing.

All of this was without the scariness of the real thing. It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.

It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.

Not sexy in the least.

And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.

Yet you still had to clench your jaw.

You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.

he worst lover you had ever had.

You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.

He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?

Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…

Fuck.

You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans. You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching. All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.

Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it. Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.

Though one little word was more than enough.

“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.

“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.

“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.

With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.

Only it wasn’t all.

When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.

Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.

You came searingly close to telling him yes.

And go on.

And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.

For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.

Any second, you thought.

Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.

Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.

“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.

Kick him out.

“Jungkook…you need to leave”

A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics

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

youtube

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RG0QONjQCxI)

It’s finally done!!! This is a little something I’ve been working on for the past two-ish weeks. I wanted to have it done in time for the blog’s anniversary but I’m just a tad late. This also ties in with the 10k+ follower surprise I had wanted to do months ago, so it’s just as well ^^;

I wanted to offer a small thank you for everyone’s support and patience with me and this comic. I know I say I’m always jazzed about what I have in store with this story and I know I can rarely talk about it or give details…but there are a few things I can let ya’ll have a sneak peek at. I didn’t even get to all the ones I had wanted to include! Just so you care share in the same excitement as me, hopefully!

One last thing: certain events/updates/even chapters have to happen before some of the previews can occur. And some have to wait in a long line of other things to be started, or finish. We’ll get there when we get there - and I’m confident it’ll be worth the wait <3

I hope you enjoy!

I’m crediting whoever needs to be credited under the cut (or after this sentence, for mobile readers). I’d suggest watching the preview first in case of spoilers!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You should write some mute lance, whether its him having been mute in the past, being a selective mute, being injured and becoming mute, or straight up not talking anymore, i think you'd write it well

Okay!! 

I kinda went on my own here, Whoops

On contrary to belief Lance didn’t like to talk. Well scratch that, he loved talking but he didn’t like to be talked over. Everytime he was talked over he immediately clamped up and he felt a lump form in his throat. Being the youngest in his family only lead to Lance being talked over constantly. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Lance to stop telling a story because everyone started a different conversation. It wasn’t uncommon for Lance to never finish a thought because someone would constantly interrupt him. 

Lance wasn’t a fighter so when this happened he would just clamp his mouth shut and listen to what the other person had to say, because it was obviously more important. 

Lance found himself talking less and less around his parents, siblings, and classmates. Nobody ever commented on Lance’s new quietness so Lance had no reason to start talking again. Lance would go days without saying anything to anyone. He communicated through shrugs and nods. 

Why should I talk, everyone is happier when I don’t. 

-

Fast forward to the Garrison when Lance met his roommate Hunk. Hunk wasn’t loud but he wasn’t quiet either. Sometimes Lance didn’t even hear him enter the room while other days Lance would hear him hallways away.  He liked Hunk, Hunk never pressured him to talk, Hunk just kept him company throughout their days. 

Hunk would ramble about projects he was working on and homework and Lance would listen quietly. It didn’t even dawn on Lance that he had never said anything to Hunk before in his life. 

They were both in their room, Lance on his bed reading a book while Hunk was laying on the floor building something. 

“Dang it, these wires all look the same, I can never tell them apart.” Hunk ran his hands through his hair in annoyance. 

Lance looked at his distressed roommate and looked down at his book. “Why don’t you put colored tape around the different wires.” Lance’s voice slightly cracked due to the lack of use and Hunk screamed. Not like a small scream but like ‘help someone is getting stabbed scream.’ 

Lance jumped causing is book to fly across his bed and he stared at Hunk who was staring at Lance his hands over his mouth. 

Lance swallowed around a small lump that was forming at the base of his throat. He inhaled “Sorry I didn’t mean to…scare you?” Lance wasn’t sure what he did wrong exactly. 

Hunk blinked a few times and slowly removed his hands from his mouth. His breathing started to slow down as he continued to stare at Lance. 

Lance started to shift where he sat. Why he is just staring at me? Lance was about to bolt out of the room but Hunk regained his bearings before he moved. 

“I’m sorry for screaming! You just have never talked before and I thought you were mute or something. Then you just spoke and I got scared. Like I wasn’t expecting that at all.” Hunk inhaled until his lungs ached “Sorry I’m rambling.” 

Lance smiled at his roommate “Hunk you ramble all the time, I’m used to it.”

Hunk started to laugh and before Lance knew it he was laughing with Hunk. They only stopped when they heard a knock on their door. 

“Officer Davis, opened the door. We have a complaint of a noise disturbance.”

Hunk and Lance shared a look and started laughing and Hunk went to open the door. 

-

Hunk and Lance became best friends within a week. They had shared everything with each other, and Hunk didn’t interrupt Lance once when he was talking. If he accidently did he would apologize immediately and beg Lance to continue what he was saying. 

Lance started to love talking again. 

-

The only time Lance would have trouble talking would be when he came back from a break. When Lance was around his family long enough he would clamp up again, but slowly Hunk would bring him back out of his shell. 

-

Hunk could only do so much and sometimes it wasn’t enough. They had just saved a planet from the Galra and they were all meeting up with the leader. 

Now Lance didn’t usually talk during diplomatic missions but he felt obligated to speak up when it concerned him. The leader was discussing how helpful the blue lion was and how it help save the planet. 

“You must tell me Blue paladin, how does the ice work?” The leader placed his (hand?) tentacle on Lance’s shoulder. 

“Well you see, Blue and I ha-” 

“That’s interesting but like was it just the lion acting on their own?”

“Kinda, you see I have to put my bay-”

“So are you not needed to fly Blue? If she does all the work what do you do?”

“Well I have to fly he-”

“But they are magic lions, surely they can fly on their own.” 

Lance opened his mouth to respond but slammed it shut before any words were formed. Then Lance did what he did best, he shrugged. That was all he did. 

The leader looked at him a bit skeptical before nodding “So how does the ice get formed?” 

Lance shrugged again. He kept his eyes directly on the leader and his lips sealed. Lance was nudged by Shiro, he didn’t care he wasn’t going to talk. He looked at the leader one more time before walking towards Blue and flew back to the castle. 

-

Lance didn’t bounce back like Hunk prayed he would. It had been about 2 weeks since the last time he said anything. He just shrugged and nodded. Never even opening his mouth except to eat. The castle was quieter than any of them wanted it to be. Mealtimes were filled with force conversation and Lance scarfing down his food in order to leave. 

Even during missions Lance wouldn’t say anything, Blue would send the other lions messages so everyone knew that things were going well but Lance never talked. 

When they met new species Lance would stand in the background silently, just watching everyone. 

Hunk tried his hardest. He would talk about things he knew Lance liked, but Lance would just smile and pat him on the back and walk away. 

The team couldn’t get Lance to talk, and they tried. They did everything they could but Lance would just sit in silence. He didn’t even talk to Coran, and that broke the older man heart. 

-

The paladins were hosting a party in the castle with about 7 species from different planets. They all worked together and received a huge win. 

Everyone was talking and enjoying the party and Lance was standing by the wall sipping his drink. He watched a boy, around his age, walk towards him. 

His arms and neck were covered in tattoos and he has pointy ears with piercing all over his body. His skin was a soft blue and his hair was a bright red. He smiled at Lance and stood by him. 

The boy thanked Lance for saving his planet, and of course Lance caught onto his flirting techniques. 

Lance laughed, like a real laugh. The first laugh in weeks maybe months. It echoed through the room and every paladin heard it. They attempted not to make it obvious but they were all listening to see if Lance would do anything more. 

Lance, who was completely oblivious to what his teammates were doing, stuck his hand out to the boy. “The names Lance.” 

Self-Projecting? Do I Know Her? 

Hell yeah I was self-projecting. 

I’m basically how I write Lance XD 

I hope you like it!

Sorry it took so long!!

Thank you for this!

Btw give it up for my bisexual son ❤💜💙

Undercover ~ BTS!Mafia AU Pt. 1

Thank you for 2,000! We hope you enjoy! - The Admins

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the leader of a Mafia. He’s a drug lord, rich, and a murderer. And you? You’re just (Y/N). But to Jungkook you’re his everything, and he will do anything he can to keep you safe.

Type: A bit of everything

Warnings for this part: Guns, SMUT!, Blood, shitty fight scenes (i tried bro), language, drugs, angst

Group: BANGTAN BOYS

PART 2


You had just gotten off of work and headed over to Jimin’s place. You hadn’t talked to him all day and decided you’d pay him a surprise visit. You used your key to unlock the door and set your bag down on the small table next to it. 

You had barely taken a few steps into the house when you heard a moan, Jimin’s moan. ‘He’s probably masturbating’ You thought, it wasn’t the first time you had walked in on him jerking off. 

He did it when he was impatient and you’d always come home at just the right time to be able to help him. You smiled to yourself and slipped off your shoes before walking towards his door at the end of the hall.

As you went to grab the handle you heard another moan, a woman’s moan. ‘Is he watching porn?’ You thought and grabbed onto the knob. 

“Oh Jimin! Right there!” A woman cried, you could tell he was having sex with her, the noises of skin slapping got louder. 

You opened the door and saw a sight that you would never forget. A woman was underneath Jimin, her legs were out and he was thrusting into her quickly while letting out those grunts that made you so wet. But you were just disgusted. Hearing those noises made you want to puke. 

You watched in shock as he used a hand to grab onto her breast and squeeze her nipple while the other moved down and he used his thumb to rub her clit. His back was facing you and she had her eyes closed, she was moaning too loudly to even hear you walk into the room. 

She was right on the brink of her orgasm when you almost screamed. 

“REALLY JIMIN?!” He had one last snap of his hips that made her orgasm before he quickly pulled out and stared at you. You watched as she squirted all over him and the sheets and gagged. 

“Wait! (Y/N)!” He got up and followed you as you ran down the hallway. His dick was red and hard, standing against his lower stomach but that was the last of his worries. 

“I-I can explain.” He stuttered, surprised that he had been caught. This wasn’t the first time he was fucking another girl, this had been going on for a while. Hell, he had been having sex with multiple girls all at once, he had been getting bored of (Y/N). 

You shook your head and said nothing while tears streamed down your face, your hands shook as you grabbed your shoes and slid them on your feet. 

“(Y/N), listen.” His hand reached out to grab yours and you flinched and slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t…” You grabbed your bag and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Please! Let me talk.” You could barely see clearly from the tears in your eyes. 

“No, I don’t wanna hear it.” You opened the door and ran down the hallway to the elevator, quickly closing the doors before Jimin could make it to you. 

You ran out of the apartment complex, barely making it out of the doors before throwing up on the grass. Everything you had eaten came up and you were dizzy while walking to your car. 

You took a minute and wiped away your tears and went home, never speaking a word to Park Jimin again.

5 months had passed since you’d said a word to Jimin. You came back the next day, collected all of your things you had left at his place, giving him back the shirts you took from him and walked passed him and didn’t look back. 

3 months after he had cheated, you went on a date with Jungkook and things went on from there. You had met Jungkook through Jimin and became your best friend. Whenever you and Jimin argued, you’d step outside and call Jungkook, letting out all of your problems. 

You haven’t had sex since the last time you and Jimin had slept together and that was nearly 3 weeks before you caught him cheating. 

Jungkook was rich, but you weren’t dating him for the money. When you met him, he looked like complete shit. Hair messy and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags underneath them. His shirt was wrinkled and he had dried up tears on his face. He walked in on you and Jimin watching a movie and told Jimin about how his girlfriend had broken up with him. 

He asked you on a date when you were complaining about being tired of being alone. You were tired of staying in bed all the time, crying because of your heartbreak. But Jungkook, he was everything you wanted and more. 

Jimin was great at first, but near the end of your relationship, you barely talked to each other anymore. 

Jungkook made you feel special, he got you what you want and simply asked for your love in return. You made it clear to him that you didn’t want the money, he was what you wanted. 


And now you were here today. 

Another day on the job. You lead another family to a table and handed them their menu’s. A dad, and two children. You politely smiled and rejected him when he asked you out on a date, stating you had a boyfriend. 

He smiled in understanding and proceeded to talk to his children. ‘If only more people here were like that’ you thought to yourself while going to hand their orders to the chef. 

Most of the men that went here were with their girlfriends and snuck over you on their way to the bathroom, trying to cop a feel. 

A few girls had even hit on you before, they stared and bit their lips, admiring your body from head to toe. But you also rejected, again stating you had a boyfriend. 

When your shift was over, you said goodnight to everyone and made your way home to your apartment. You said hello to the friendly old lady who was working on opening her door, her poor old shaky hands struggling with putting the key in the hole. You watched as she walked in and then walked into your apartment. You turned on the lights and kicked off your shoes, stretching before laying down on your couch. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and read the text messages from your friends and quickly replied before shooting a text message to Jungkook. 

‘Just got off work. How was your day?’ 


Jungkook was currently at one of his clubs with Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon. Jimin was dealing cocaine, laughing and joking around with one of their clients. Jungkook was sat in a chair, silently watching everyone closely. 

Yoongi had a girl on his lap, she was grinding against him while they made out. Music was blaring and some other people were dancing. 

Hoseok was in another room, having sex with one of his usual girls. When the DJ would switch the songs, you could hear their moans, she was literally screaming. 

Jungkooks phone vibrated when he noticed something odd. One of his clients had a gun tucked into his belt, which was strictly against the rules. No one but Jungkook and a few others were allowed to carry a gun on them while at the clubs. 

Jungkook got up and walked over to Jimin, putting his hand on his shoulder and tapping his finger 3 times. This was their signal. Jimin shrugged his arm off of his shoulder and when they made eye contact, Jungkook’s hand made it’s way to his gun. 

Jimin’s hand reached into his pocket and wrapped around the handle of a knife and by this time their ‘clients’ had noticed what they were doing. 

In a second, guns were raised. 

Yoongi and the girl had broken up, he was stood next to her, gun raised and she had one in her hand also. Namjoon was aimed at the one who was aiming at Yoongi. 

Jimin made the first move and quickly stabbed his knife into the man’s gut that was standing behind him. His arm shot up, hitting his arm so the gun went off and the bullet went into the ceiling. 

Jungkook quickly shot the next two, one of their bullets grazing his shoulder. Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and the other female shot at a few other people. Jungkook shot at their leader but missed. 

He knocked the gun out of Jungkooks hand and he was just left with his hands. The man named Sooyoung stabbed the knife into Jungkook’s thigh, and Jungkook yelled at the pain. 

Jungkook punched him in the jaw knocking Sooyoung back. Jimin had just finished pulling his knife out of the chest of another man and threw it at Sooyoung, and it landed in his shoulder. 

Blood was soaking Jungkooks pant leg as he pushed Sooyoung down to the ground and straddled his waist so he couldn’t move. He pulled the knife out of his shoulder and stabbed him right in his chest. 

Sooyoung’s white dress shirt was soaked with blood and Jungkook got off of him, wiping his forehead but smearing blood on it. Jimin opened the door and yelled for everyone to get out so he and the others stayed behind to clean. 

“Jungkook, what happened?” Yoongi asked, looking over his body. 

“Stab wound to my thigh, I think that’s it.” He replied while staring at the dying body below him. Sooyoung coughed and tried to reach for a gun that was laying on the ground but Jungkook kicked it away with his foot and the remaining life left in Sooyoung slipped away. 

Jungkook took a seat and Namjoon already knew what to do. His hand wrapped around the handle tightly and the other pushed on Jungkook’s thigh. 

“Three.. Two..” Namjoon didn’t even get to one before he pulled the knife out and immediately started applying pressure. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook yelled and grabbed onto the arms of the chair. Namjoon’s hands were covered with blood and he bit his lip as Jungkook struggled to stay conscious. Yoongi grabbed onto Jungkook’s sleeve and ripped it so he could tie it around his thigh tightly. 

“I need to see (Y/N),” Jungkook said standing up and using the wall to stay stable. 

“What Jungkook? No, you need medical attention.” Namjoon said, stepping in front of the door. 

“Let me see (Y/N)!” He said sternly before pushing Namjoon out of the way and limping out to his ride. He paid someone to drive him to her apartment and by the time he arrived it was 2 in the morning. 


A tired (Y/N) opened the door and she was in one of his t-shirts. “Jungkook?” You gasped and pulled him inside quickly. 

“What happened?“ 

”(Y/N), I need help.“ He avoided your question and you led him into the bathroom and slowly stripped him of his clothes. 

He sat there in his boxers as you wiped away the blood from him and grabbed your first-aid kit from underneath the sink. You used some alcohol to clean where the bullet grazed his shoulder and you almost cried when you saw his thigh. 

“Jesus.” You whispered and very slowly dabbed the alcohol onto it in which Jungkook tried his best not to yell. 

“I need stitches.” He could barely speak and you nodded and grabbed a needle and thread and tried the best you possibly could. 

When you were finished, Jungkook was laid in your bed and you were cleaning the blood in the bathroom. 

“You doing okay?” You asked when you stepped back into the room. 

“For now.” He nodded, the pain meds were finally kicking in. 

“Now, tell me what the fuck happened to you.“ 

He said nothing.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked patiently at Jungkook.

“Look Jun-”

Little Notes

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist

Request: “A cute little Bucky X Reader idea popped into my head today. How about the reader always writes reminders/her To Do list on her hands, so she always has writing in them. She’s so busy all the time that she often falls asleep wherever she sits down in the tower. When she wakes up she sometimes finds new notes written on her hands written by none other than the Bucky Barnes. Do what you wish with this little idea, I trust your creative genius! Thank you always for writing 💜” - @lovelyladylilac

Word Count: 1972

Warning: little bit of fluff

To @lovelyladylilac, thank you for requesting the cutest ideas, and thank you for checking in on me when I’m absent for too long. Even in my writer’s block and overwhelming life you’re always there to make my day and help me focus on what makes me happy. You mean the world to me! <3

Keep reading

YOI Fan Rec Friday

(21/4/17)

Thank you all for your requests this week! I’m really sorry this is up so late, my wifi shut off and I had some personal things that were happening!

Rec’d by anonymous:
Yu-topia Gentleman’s Club by Aradellia (CurtusPatronus), Teen, 45k (WIP)
Victor hadn’t exactly wanted the end of his long training day to finish at the bottom of a glass alongside his friend Chris, however he hadn’t expected Chris to drag him to a strip club, of all places. Of course, he also hadn’t expected to be introduced to one of the most alluring and blinding dancers he had ever seen in his life.

Rec’d by anonymous:
Comfort Food by youaremarvelous, Mature, 20k (WIP)
Viktor is a wildly popular male model who is in crisis over aging out of the industry. He runs into Yuuri, an international university student struggling to make friends in the big city, and decides to make him his pet project. Unfortunately, matchmaking isn’t as easy as he thought it would be—especially when he starts developing complicated feelings for his client.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @wombatcuddles :
Forgetting by pushpullds, Mature, 1.7k
Oh, he thinks, surprised. I’m married.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
come get you some of that bounce baby by crossroadswrite, Teen, 3.8k
in which they’re happily married, coaching Russia’s and Japan’s next great skaters, and Victor Nikiforov remains the clingiest, thirstiest man on the face of this planet.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous:
Katsuki Yuuri: Ascended Fanboy by Defiant-Dreams (baterina_1234), Teen, 8.9k
“And wow, that was a beautiful Viktor—I mean, a beautiful Quad Flip by Viktor.” Yuuri visibly winces and he momentarily covers his face. Morooka glances at him in concern but Yuuri shrugs it off quickly and shakes his head as he continues, “Really, others try to do it, but no one does a Quad Flip quite as well or quite as clean as Viktor—if they even manage to land it.” 

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Sing for me by siberianchan, Teen, 45k (WIP)
It is 1848, it is Opera and Yuuri Katsuki has just arrived from his former home Milan in Dresden to work as a chorus singer at the Semperoper. Starting over in a new country, surrounded by strangers is taxing, especially when the lead tenor is acting so contractionary towards you and when your own anxiety constantly has you on your toes.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Correspondence by Watermelonsmellinfellon, Mature, 36k (WIP)
Victor Nikiforov agreeing to partner with Penned Pals for a season, had to be the best decision of his and Katsuki Yuuri’s lives. It brought them together after all.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
The Prince and the Pharmacist by Victuuri gives me feelings (Help_Im_Shipper_Trash), Teen, 1.3k (WIP)
When ordinary pharmacist Yuuri Katsuki is ordered by crowned Prince Cristophe Giacometti to be his escort, Yuuri panics and decides his only hope is to flee the country. On the run, he stumbles across a kind, silver haired stranger. Victor Nikiforov is instantly fascinated with the young pharmacist, and wants nothing more than to help. His two attendants, Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin, are less than thrilled.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
in a snap of your fingers by silencedmockingjay, Gen, 3.8k
“I’m mad, okay?!” A flash of anger lights up Viktor’s face, eyes narrowed, eyebrows in a v-shape, mouth turned downwards. And then his hand comes up and slaps Yuuri’s hand away.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @bluelup28 :
The Skater and The Beast by Charlie_R_Everitt, Gen, 17k (WIP)
Yuuri was cursed years ago to a grisly form and has hidden himself a way from the world. Yet, every year for the past couple of years, something has caught his eye. A beautiful young skater, skating on a near by lake by the village near his castle… “Yuuri, you should have faith!” “Pitchit, who could ever learn to love a beast?” AU with elements from Beauty and the Beast.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
All Eyes on Me by Kizuna_Auri, Explicit, 45k (WIP) (Omegaverse)
Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
One of those nights by justmeandmysillystuff, Mature, 102k (WIP)
One of those nights, Yuuri meets him by accident. One of those weeks, he gets into his life. One of those months, he realizes he may be falling in love. One of those years, becomes the best of his life.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
My Hero, Yuuri by Abarero, Teen, 57k (WIP)
At the age of 23, Yuuri Katsuki is certain he’s just a dime-a-dozen hero that will never make a difference. Little does he know that the moment his path crosses with legendary hero, Victor Nikiforov, both of their lives will begin to change for the better.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
This Night is Flawless by flowercrownyuri (elevensong), Teen, 5k
Prince Yuuri can’t see anything without his glasses. It normally isn’t an issue, but when Yuuri goes to the royal ball without them he can’t see the man who captures his attention that night and can only remember him by his voice. Determined to find the ‘mystery man’, Yuuri goes through the entire town in hopes of finding the one who won his affections. But what happens when said mystery man turns out to be a beautiful guy named Victor, and why is he acting like they met before last night?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Lost souls by EurusLex, Explicit, 5.7k (WIP)
What the fuck was happening? His brain did not want to wrap around whatever was going on—maybe it was because had just woken up from a deep sleep or maybe it was the sheer terror pumping through his body—but no matter what it was, he really wanted to calm down so he could hear himself think.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @fullmetalkarneval13 :
Stay Close to Me: A Highschool Love Story. by FullmetalKarneval13, Mature, 19k (WIP)
Viktor was Yuuri’s light, his safe place when he didn’t have one. But in middle school when Viktor had to move away. Yuuri drowned in the abyss of bullies and anxiety. Now years later Yuuri is a senior in highschool. He sees something that crushes and opens his heart at the same time.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Amnesia by cerisebio, Gen, 19k
Victor wakes up in a hospital room. At his bedside is a Japanese skater he came across at the Sochi Grand Prix Final.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Lessons in Love by fangirlandiknowit, Mature, 38k (WIP)
All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he’ll do. He just didn’t expect to become a fan, too.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @osnapitzhanaa :
never tasted rubies by ebenroot, Teen, 16k
in which Yuuri is an unwilling radio host and Victor won’t stop calling in to chat with him

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
I’ll be your Tramp if you be my Lady by DairyFarmer, Teen, 5.1k
“You are so sad.” Yuri grumbled as Viktor sighed longingly in the direction of Makkachin and Duchess’s groomer, who also happened to be an angel named Yuuri Katsuki. In which Yuuri is a pet groomer and Viktor falls in love.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous:
Sweetsilversub by phlintandsteel, Explicit, 71k
When Katsuki Yuuri thinks about his life, he feels like maybe it should have the subtitle 'A Study In Contradictions’ after it. As he grows and learns more about himself though, he decides he’s willing to acknowledge that being a 'Work In Progress’ is ok too. Even if he struggles with uniting the 'online’ and 'in real life’ portions of himself, at least he’s got friends in both places who are willing to stick by him while he works shit out. And maybe more than friends, if the look in Victor’s eyes is anything to go by… How did this become his life!!?!?

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by anonymous and @saecookie :
A Lesson in Wanting by awesometinyhumanbeing, Not Rated, 12k
Victor ties himself into a knot known as Katsuki Yuuri—in more ways than one—and they navigate their way to each other in a series of fits and starts, miscommunication, and Herculean pining.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @flyingsuits-blog-blog:
Take Hold by LavenderProse, Mature, 20k
“I believe…” Yuuri says, pensive. “I believe that when you’re connected to another person so closely that you share a soul, it’s stupid to think that you wouldn’t feel it. How can you not recognize part of yourself when they’re standing right in front of you?”
“That's…I…yes.” Viktor tries to untie his tongue, mouth suddenly arid. “You—I think you would know, yes.”
Yuuri skates onto the ice and Viktor’s soul screams after him, Do you know? Can you see me? I’m here, I’m here.

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @snapdragon-princess :
Like a Fairytale by lucycamui, Teen, 73k
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella’ Yuuri.
(And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he’s doing).

✧·゚: *✧·゚:* *:·゚✧*:·゚✧

Rec’d by @deadlychildartemis :
A Heart of Blades||Cannot Break by Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche), Teen, 16k (WIP)
Or the one in which Yuuri decides to try gaming on a whim when he’s thirteen, manages to get his hands on SAO, and has to live with its impact and fallout for the rest of his life.


Thank you for all your recs! ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

The amazing “YOI Fan Rec Friday” banner was created by @omgkatsudonplease ! I love them a lot, check out their blog!

From The Dining Table

13 Hours Later.

When she woke up, she was still alone.

Initially, she’d forgotten all about the night before. The first thing she noticed was the strange buzzing sound of the thermostat in the corner, which was obviously not working at all because the room was freezing. The chilly air nipped at her cheeks, and she snuggled further into the mattress as she tucked her head into the comforter with a soft whimper, trying to ignore the buzzing in her head.

Her eyes were still stinging from her tears the night before mixed with the lack of sleep. She’d managed to finally drift off at around four in the morning, but she couldn’t tell by the window whether it was eight in the morning or two in the afternoon.

Their screams from the night before still echoed in the walls.

She slid the covers off of her head and opened her eyes slowly, staring at the pale yellow motel ceiling. It was the color of Easter yellow, she’d decided, and it reminded her of chocolate and gardens and everything happy. It reminded her of some distant life where she probably would have done something to be proud of.

The ache in her chest resonated throughout her entire body, and her head was pounding to the rhythm of her heart—it was the only way she could be sure it was still beating.

She felt like someone had torn it out of her chest.

She turned onto her side and looked at the space in the bed beside her, clutching onto the soft material of the comforter until her knuckles turned white. Waking up on her own wasn’t new to her—she’d done it time and time again in the past two years, so much that she’d become numb to the loneliness that came with it. But this time was different…

This time, she knew he wasn’t coming back.

She suddenly felt a tear roll down her face, and just like that, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

He was everywhere.

Keep reading

This is cliche and short but I actually finished it so

“Dex." 

"What." 

"I need another word for ‘cleansed’." 

"Do I look like a Thesaurus to you, Nurse?" 

"Chill, dude." 

”… Purified.“ 

Nursey looked up before he could stop himself, shock on his features for barely half a second before switching to… Pleased? Content. No, chuffed. (God, Nursey wanted to use that word in a poem one day. Chuffed.) 

"Thanks." 

Dex, however, didn’t look up. The keys on his thick black laptop clicked almost continuously, and Nursey did not debate internally on whether he was writing an essay or lines of code, because he had poetry assignments to finish for tomorrow. While not procrastinating, he shifted his mind to the whirring machine- it was really fucking old, but the thing was, Dex was the kind of person to repair his own electronics instead of upgrading them. (Like, with pliers and everything. He’s seen it happen.) The thing was in really good shape. Similar to the way that Hugh Jackman was by no means a spry twenty year old, yet looked like it would take nothing short of a battering ram to knock him over. A nice, solid, dependable- 

"What the hell are you muttering about now?” Dex muttered, the hypocrite.

“Aw, nothing.” (Hugh Jackman) “The next line.” (Hugh Jackman as a laptop)

“What’ve you got?" 

Keep reading

You Have Chosen Poorly

I’m playing the Mines of Phandelver campaign with five of my friends via Fantasy Grounds and four of them are totally green to DnD but wanted to give it a try.  (I figured pre-made characters would make it a little simpler on them while they learned the base mechanics.)  As such, I try to be a challenging but forgiving DM while they learn the ropes.

During the course of their adventure, I realized that my players have a bad habit of stacking encounters on top of each other.  The previous week, they managed to stack a grand total of five encounters in one encounter in Cragmaw Castle.  This particular week, they were coming up against a hard-set deadline (because people had work the next morning) and they’d already stacked two large encounters on top of each other while trying to set a trap for what I tried to clue in to the thief (my sister who’s the only one who’s ever played DnD before besides me) was four hobgoblins, not normal goblins like they’d been fighting, but she didn’t pick up on it.  One of the hobgoblins had alerted another encounter that was already on alert from the previous week (the only reason I didn’t have them join the previous five-encounter-dogpile was because of another hard deadline).

So the thief has been nearly killed this session and is getting a little tired of getting wailed on.  So she decides to ninja her way out of there to leave the rest of the enemies to the newbies while she goes hide and loot some random room.  She has a few options: to the north is a lot of nothing, to the southwest is the kitchen the second group of enemies just vacated, to the east is the now empty place the hobgoblins had previously occupied.  All would’ve been good choices.

She chooses the southwest tower.  The worst possible choice.

Having rolled a 21 for stealth, she gets in through the door and I start laughing hysterically.  I have to take a moment to mute my microphone as I howl with laughter and don’t want to blow out eardrums.  I come back online and reveal the one solitary token in the room: an owlbear.

Me (while laughing): “You enter the room and find an owlbear chewing on a bone.”

Human Fighter (Greataxe wielder) who has never seen a token bigger than one square: “WHAT?!”

Thief: “I FLATTEN MYSELF AGAINST THE WALL.”

I have to mute the mic another two minutes while I laugh hysterically.

The other players manage to finish off the other enemies but I don’t release them from initiative since we still had potentially one more enemy now.  Fortunately, she manages to stealth her way back out and shut the door without being noticed.  I give her Inspiration for staying in character in the first place.

And that was how my newbie players learned the age-old adage “Never split the party.”