one of the parts where tears are streaming down my face

A white guy’s thoughts on “Get Out” and racism

This weekend, I went to see a horror movie. It got stuck in my head, and now I can’t stop thinking about it—but not for any of the reasons you might think.

The movie was Jordan Peele’s new hit Get Out, which has gotten rave reviews from critics—an incredible 99% on Rotten Tomatoes—and has a lot of people talking about its themes.

First of all, I should tell you that I hate horror movies. As a general rule, I stay far, far away from them, but after everything I’d read, I felt like this was an important film for me to see. This trailer might give you some inkling as to why:

Creepy, huh? You might know writer/director Jordan Peele as part of the comedy duo Key & Peele, known for smartly tackling societal issues through sketch comedy. Get Out is a horror movie, but it’s also a film about race in America, and it’s impressively multilayered.

I left the theater feeling deeply disturbed but glad this movie was made. I can’t say any more without revealing spoilers, so if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you don’t want to have the plot spoiled for you, stop reading now and come back later.

Seriously, this is your last chance before I give away what happens.

Okay, you were warned. Here we go.

Our protagonist is Chris Washington, a young black man who has been dating Rose Armitage, a young white woman, for the last four months. She wants him to meet her family, but he’s hesitant. She acknowledges that her dad can be a little awkward on the subject of race, but assures Chris that he means well.

After unnerving encounters with a deer (echoes of The Invitation) and a racist cop, Chris and Rose arrive at the Armitages’ estate. On the surface, the Armitages are very friendly, but the conversation (brilliantly scripted by Peele) includes a lot of the little, everyday, get-under-your-skin moments of racism that people of color have to contend with: Rose’s dad going on about how he voted for Obama, for instance, and asking how long “this thang” has been going on. Chris laughs it off to be polite, though he clearly feels uncomfortable.

There’s a fantastic moment here, by the way, when Rose’s dad offhandedly mentions that they had to close off the basement because of “black mold.” In the midst of the racially charged atmosphere of the conversation, it’s nearly impossible not to take this as a racial remark, and Chris certainly notices, but what could he possibly say about it? Black mold is a real thing; his girlfriend would surely think he was crazy and oversensitive if he said it sounded racist. Chris never reacts to the remark, but that one tiny moment is a reminder to the audience of a real problem people of color often face, when racism can’t be called out without being accused of “playing the race card” or seeing things that aren’t there. (Incidentally, it turns out that the basement is actually used for molding of a different sort.)

There are other reasons for Chris to be unsettled: The only other black people on the estate are two servants, Georgina and Walter (Rose’s dad says he knows how bad it looks, but that it’s not what it seems), and something is clearly “off” about them. Later, more white people show up—and one more black character, and he, too, feels “off.”

By the end of the film, we learn the horrible secret: Rose’s family is kidnapping and luring black people to their estate, where they’re being hypnotized and psychologically trapped inside themselves—Rose’s mom calls it “the sunken place”—so that old or disabled white people’s consciousnesses can be transplanted into their bodies. The white people are then able to move about, controlling their new black bodies, with the black person’s consciousness along for the ride as a mere “passenger.” In a shocking twist, it turns out that even apparently-sweet Rose is in on the plot, and Chris must fight her and the rest of her family to escape.

This isn’t a “white people are evil” film, although it may sound that way at first, but it is a film about racism. I know many of my friends of color will connect with this movie in a way I can’t, so I won’t try to say what I think they’ll get out of it. I do want to say how I connected with it, though, because I think what Jordan Peele has done here is really important for white audiences. 

If you look beyond the surface horror-movie plot, this film actually gives white people a tiny peek at the reality of racism—not the epithet-shouting neo-Nazi kind of racism that white people normally imagine when we hear “racism,” but the “Oh it’s so nice to meet you; I voted for Obama” kind of racism, the subtle othering that expects people of color to smile and get along and adopt white culture as their own whenever they’re around white people.

So many of the moments in Get Out are clearly intended to work on multiple levels. When Chris confronts Georgina about something being wrong and she smiles and says, “No, no no no no no,” with tears streaming down her cheeks, the symbolism is blatant. How often do people of color have to ignore the subtle indignities they face and hide their true emotions in order to avoid coming across as, for example, “the angry black woman/man”? How many times do they find themselves in social situations—even with their closest white friends!—where people make little comments tying them to an “exotic,” supposedly monolithic culture, where they have to respond with a smile and a laugh instead of telling people how stupid and offensive they’re being? 

I can’t tell you the number of these stories I’ve heard from my friends, and I’m quite sure that the stories I’ve heard are only a tiny fraction of the stories that could be told. So there’s something in that moment that speaks volumes about the experiences of people of color in America.

The same is true for so many other moments. The black characters Chris meets at the Armitages’ have all symbolically given up their identities and conformed to white culture; when Chris meets one character, he turns out to be going under a new name, with new clothes and new mannerisms; when Chris offers him a fist bump, he tries to shake Chris’s fist. Again, within the story, there’s an explanation for all this, but every moment here is also about assimilation and culture differences. 

For me as a white audience member, all of these moments did something remarkable: They showed me my own culture—a culture I’m often blissfully unaware of because it’s all around me—as something alien. They reminded me that I, too, have a culture, and that expecting everyone else to assimilate to my culture is just as much an erasing of their identities as it would be to expect me to assimilate to someone else’s culture.

And that’s a big part of what Get Out is about—the erasing of identities, and the power of racism to destroy people. I think it’s really significant that racism is portrayed here very differently from how it’s normally portrayed in movies written by white people. In most Hollywood movies, you know a character is racist because they shout racial epithets or make blatant statements about a certain race’s inferiority. That allows white audiences to say, “I would never do/say that, so I’m not racist!” We really don’t want to think we are.

But notice something important about Get Out’s treatment of racism: This is a film about the literal enslavement of black people—racism doesn’t get more extreme than that—and yet Peele doesn’t go for the obvious by having the white characters admit that they think black people are inferior; instead, they subjugate and dehumanize people by claiming to admire things about them. They turn them into fashion accessories. 

When Chris asks why only black people are being targeted for this procedure, the response is telling: It’s not (supposedly) because the white characters think African Americans are bad, but rather, because they like certain things about them and they want “a change” for themselves. They want to become black—it’s trendy, we’re told!—but without having had any of the actual life experiences or history of African Americans. White people need to see this: to experience the ways in which Chris is othered by people who tell him all the things they like about him—isn’t he strong? Look at those muscles! Does he play golf like Tiger Woods? And he must be well-endowed and have such sexual prowess, right, Rose?

The white people in the audience need to be reminded that just because you’re saying positive things about someone doesn’t mean you’re not being racist, that turning someone into an exotic “other” may not be the same as shouting an epithet, but it’s still taking away someone’s identity and treating them as a commodity.

The film is filled with these kinds of moments. When we realize that Rose’s white grandmother has inhabited the body of Georgina, the fact that she keeps touching her own hair and admiring herself in the mirror takes on a whole new level of significance. (White people, please don’t ask to touch your black friends’ hair.) When Chris connects with a dying deer on the side of the road and later sees a deer head mounted on the wall at the Armitages’ estate, the symbolism is hard to miss. Black people are being turned into trophies in this house. And, oh yeah, they’re being literally auctioned off—as they were in real life in the not-too-distant past.

One day, I’d like to see the film again to pick up on all the ways things read differently the second time through. I noticed several things in retrospect that gain new significance once you know the ending, and I’m sure there’s a lot I didn’t notice. For example, Rose’s dad says he hired Walter and Georgina to care for his parents, and when his parents died, “I couldn’t bear to let them go.” The first time you see the film, it sounds like the “them” is Walter and Georgina. But in retrospect, it’s clear the “them” he couldn’t bear to let go was his parents, so he sacrificed Walter and Georgina for them. Which, again, is an example of how the supposed care of the white characters for the black characters (his care for Walter and Georgina, Rose’s care for Chris) is really all about caring for themselves and treating the black characters as completely interchangeable objects.

The message of the film isn’t simply that the black characters are “good” and the white characters are “bad.” There are presumably—hopefully—many good white people in the world of this film, and many others who wouldn’t do what the Armitages are doing but also probably wouldn’t believe Chris or make the effort to stop it. Peele’s mother and wife are both white, so he’s clearly not trying to paint all white people as villains. 

But I admit, as a white guy, I really, really wanted Rose to be good. I’ve been the white person in an interracial relationship introducing my black boyfriend to my family. I’ve been that. So I related to Rose, and I really wanted to believe that she was well-intentioned and just oblivious; even though she misses the mark on several occasions, there are times that she seems like she gets it and she really does listen to Chris. When a cop asks to see Chris’s ID early in the film even though he wasn’t driving, Rose stands up against the obvious racism, showing us all what it looks like for white people to do the right thing. “That was hot,” Chris says to her later, and I thought, yeah, that’s who I want to be.

So I have to admit, it was really upsetting to me to see Rose, the only good white character left in the film, turn out to be evil. But I realized that part of that is that I really wanted her to represent me, and that’s really the point. Just think how often horror films have only one black character who dies early on, and how many films of all genres have no significant black characters for audience members to look up to or identify with. I think it’s really important for white audiences to experience that.

As I’ve reflected on the film, it seems to me like there are three kinds of popular movies about people of color. There are those that feature POC characters that are essentially indistinguishable from the white characters—as if they just decided to cast Morgan Freeman instead of Tom Hanks without giving any thought to the character’s race. Then there are the movies that deal with racism, but in a way that allows white people to feel good about ourselves, because we’re not like the characters in the film. (This is especially true for movies about racism in the past; some of them are very important films, like Hidden Figures, which I loved, but we need to be aware that it’s still easy for white America to treat it as a feel-good film and think that we’re off the hook because we no longer have separate restrooms.) And finally, there are movies that focus more directly on the lives of people of color but tend to draw largely audiences of color; not many white people go see them, because we think they’re not “for us” (even though we assume films about white people are for everyone).

Get Out isn’t any of those. It’s drawing a broad audience but it’s not afraid to make white people uncomfortable. And if you can give me, a white guy, a chance to have even a momentary fraction of an experience of the real-life, modern-day, casual racism facing people of color in America, I think that’s a very good thing.

Over and Over

Summary: This is pure, multi-orgasmic porn with Dean. Enjoy.

Warning: smut, overstimulation (sort of)

Word Count: 1600ish

A/N: Just felt like writing some Dean porn. No plot here, lol. XOXO


Dean’s moving at just the right pace.

It’s the ‘you aren’t quite at the orgasm yet, but this will get you there soon’ pace. The slow and steady pace that’s more about going deep and hitting all the right spots that being hard or wild. The pace that makes you shake and sweat like your body is totally under Dean’s control now.

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Thoughts full

“AHHHH!” A loud shriek pierced the otherwise silent ship, starling the occupants from their state of relaxation. The paladins sprinted towards the source of the sound in a panic, all finding themselves in front of Lance’s door, panting, weapons at the ready.

 Shiro, who arrived first, burst through the door and scanned the room for immediate danger. Seeing the room empty he relaxed and moved further into the room that smelt distinctly of sea. 

 He rushed over to Lance who was slumped over his desk, signs of his previous tasks pushed to the floor, the others close behind. Lance was on the floor, curled up in pain, sweat streamed off him in fountains. 

“Lance? Can you hear me?” Shiro asked firmly, he got no response. He reached his biological hand down and onto Lance’s forehead, hissing as he got burnt. 

“He’s burning.” 

 Hunk ran out in worry, headed for Coran and the healing pods. Shiro quickly picked Lance up but almost dropped him when Lance began thrashing around, weak whimpers making their way through his lips as his face screwed up in pain. 

 The remaining team sprinted out of the room, Shiro careful not to jostle Lance too much as they made their way to the medical bay. Ahead of them they saw Coran quickly setting up one of the pods. 

 "Does he need a suit?“ Pidge asked in a rush and Coran shook his head. 

“We can do that if he needs long term recovery!” Coran said and opened the pod, Shiro handed Lance over to Coran who gently placed him in the pod. It hissed close and immediately began scanning. 

 "What happened to Lance?“ Allura asked after a tense silence, Keith looked up. 

 "We’re not sure,” Keith said and Hunk quickly added on. 

“We just heard his scream and then we found him on the floor,” Hunk said and twisted his fingers together nervously. “Maybe it’s a fit?”

“The pod is almost finished scanning.” Coran said and a loud beep resonated from the machine, the team huddled around as Coran read the symbols popping up on the monitor. Corans twirled his moustache in confusion. “It’s not detecting anything wrong… Just a heightened magnetic energy coming from his brain.”

“What would that mean?” Pidge asked as she tried to read the report. 

“It may be a migraine,” Coran suggested and sighed. “But having him in the pod will not help him any, we’ll have to pull him out.”

“….” The paladins watched in unsure silence as Coran pressed a few buttons and he pod once again opened, Lance slumped out and Coran caught him. He carried him over to a bed and winced when Lance moaned and grasped his head.

“My boy,” Coran whispered and Lance’s eyes slowly- painfully- opened. 

“Coran, my head hurts.” Lance said and winced. “What’s the matter? Why is everyone talking?” 

“No one’s talking.” Shiro whispered and Lance cried out in pain. 

“You’re all talking too much, stop, it hurts.” Lance whined and curled up into himself.

Everyone stayed silent, staring at Lance in worry. 

“Please.” Lance moaned out in pain before his eyes fell shut once more and he slumped into the bed. Everyone looked at each other but before anyone could talk Allura ushered them all except Coran out of the room.

Coran hadn’t the slightest clue what was wrong with the paladin.


Lance awoke, the blank ceiling staring back at him, as if to taunt his existence. He heard whispers, silent murmurs pass through his mind. But he felt nothing but the slight, dull pain in his mind.

He really needed a drink.

So, he got up- wincing at a sudden pain that passed through his mind- and made his way towards the kitchen. The whispers grew louder and Lance tried to block them out- but he couldn’t- they were at the forefront of his mind, demanding attention. He still couldn’t make out what they were, but he had to wonder if he were simply hearing things, if he had gone crazy. Gotten some type of cabin fever in space.

He finally made it to the kitchen but he winced as one of the voices took prevalence over the others, he began to recognise the voice. The worried thoughts, endless with questions, filled with an intelligent undertone. Pidge.

He had no clue why he was hearing Pidge. Maybe he had banged his head, maybe he truely was going crazy. Or maybe Pidge was simply talking loud.

The kitchen was empty when he made it there, he quickly got himself a drink of water before gulping it down and filling the cup once more. Then he made his way out, going in search of the others.

He first found Keith, Keith’s voice got louder and Lance clutched his head in pain. Keith turned and raised his hand to greet Lance but dropped it when Lance ran out of the room.

On his way back to his room he bumped into Pidge. Whispers ran through Lance’s mind like a scream and Lance cried out, unused to the invasion of his mind. Pidge held her arms out for Lance in worry but cried out when he bolted from the scene.

He finally made it to his room, Lance locked the door behind him and slid onto the floor, tears pouring from his blood shot eyes. The whispers in his head calmed down, every now and then a more alert and clear voice would cut through the canopy of murmurs and every time Lance would wince.

He was going crazy. Officially bonkers. Lance pulled at his hair desperately.

‘Where is Lance?’ Lance whipped his head around in search of the posh voice. It was Allura. 

He’s probably in his room.’

There’s no way Lance had heard Allura talking through the door. He was loosing his mind. 

Was this his room?’

Lance shook his head, there was no way he had heard any of that. But surely, a knock sounded and Lance yelped in shock. A variety of sentences came through to Lance’s mind and lance blinked back painful tears. “Lance?” The muffled voice came through the door and Lance wavered.

There were other words being spoken, some he couldn’t catch others he could get a vague meaning of. But none of them spoken aloud, none of them muffled through the metal wall separating them. All of them in Lance’s mind.

Lance opened the door and Allura took in his tearful, dishevelled appearance and blinked in surprise. “Lance, are you feeling fine?” ‘He looks bad, maybe I should cut them all some slack’

“Yeah. It’s just a head ache but the others might appreciate a break too.” Lance answered absent-mindedly.

“Pardon?”‘Did I miss a part of the conversation?’ Now Lance was confused.

“No…. You didn’t miss any of the conversation?” Lance said questioningly and Allura gasped. 

“Did you hear that?” Allura asked and Lance frowned. ‘Can you hear this?’

“Yeah” Lance asked looked at Allura weirdly. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I didn’t say that aloud.” Allura answered and frowned. ‘Watch my lips.’

Her lips didn’t move, not even an inch. Yet he could still hear her. 

“…..” Lance stared at her in horror as more thoughts flooded his mind, thoughts of her home planet, thoughts of her life before. But mainly her hatred for those who destroyed her planet. Hatred for Zarkon.

All thoughts she couldn’t stop, they were a constant stream. Never ending.

“Lance, please don’t freak out, it’ll make this all worse.” Allura tried to calm as she noticed the hazy look in Lance’s eyes. Sweat formed between Lance’s brows and he looked faint. 

“I-I can read- your mind?” Lance questioned and Allura looked as lost. 

“Possibly” Allura said and looked down. ‘I’ll have to see if Coran knows about this.’

Allura left. Lance concentrated on the whispers passing through his mind. They were his teammates.

Hunk’s anxious stream of though. Keith’s brash word. Pidge’s blunt though process and Shiro’s tortured whispers.

All within Lance’s brain, waiting to be deciphered. Lance rubbed his temple, trying to rid the headache.

Lance could read minds.


Lance cautiously made his way down the hallway of the ship, headed to the medical bay. Everyone was already there, waiting for Lance. Lance knew that of course.

He walked through the door and cringed at the flood of voices. Thoughts mixed with real conversation, leaving Lance in a muddled haze.

He could hear many things directed his way, thoughts and actual words as the team crowded around him. 

“My boy,” Coran’s calm voice pierced through the confusion and Lance focused on him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to my voice only.”

The other paladins had stopped talking and Coran walked closer. “Do you feel the separation?”

Lance nodded, feeling the voices recede. There was a distinct wall between his own consciousness and their thoughts.

Coran took Lance’s face into his hands. “Now, focus on pushing the voices away, thickening that wall.”

Lance did as told, pushing his friends worries and thoughts and secrets away. Wincing when a particular thought would yell out. Finally, the thoughts receded and all they were was a small whisper in the back of his mind.

Lance released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and grabbed Coran’s arms for support. “Breathe my boy,” Coran whispered and Lance felt like crying.

The headache was gone. 

“There will always be a wall beween your thoughts and ours,” Coran stated and patted Lance’s back. “Just remember that and use it to control it.”

“How did you know that?” Lance asked after a long pause and Coran smiled sadly.

“I should have realised sooner,” Coran looked down in thought. “It’s always a trait the blue paladin gains, after all.”

our little family pt.4 | park jimin

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.

Parts: 1 2 3 4

AN: mAN THIS ONE IS A LONG ONE BUT EEEEK ITS MY FAV PART SO ENJOY GUYS!!!

Reader’s POV

Readjusting your hat on your head, you rested a hand on your hip before wiping away the sweat that trickled down the side of you face. Who would’ve known that the day you had planned a field trip for the kids was the day of the record highest temperature your city had seen in the last decade.

Clearly you didn’t, because here you were with twenty sweaty, hungry and excited children all screaming and attacking you at once.

“Ms.L/N! Ms.L/N?! MS.L/N~” the children yelled, snapping you out of your trance, the heat making your head spin.

Looking down at the two children tugging at your skirt, they pointed towards the playground nearby and begged, “Can we all go play at the playground over there Ms.L/N? Please~” as they continued to put on their puppy faces, knowing well enough how irresistible they were to you.

Sighing, you nodded and immediately after, the rest of the children followed the two, running towards the playground and attacking the swings, slides and see-saws with all their might.

“Be careful! And don’t figh- Minjae-ah! Get off Eunhae!” you yelled in exasperation, picking up your bag and trudging your way to the playground ahead. Finding a spot in the shade, under a big tree, you set down your stuff on the bench beside it. 

Taking a walk around, you made sure all your kids were playing together, none of them hurting one another or themselves, at the least.

After you finished breaking up a fight over the sandbox, got a screaming kid off the monkey bars who was too afraid to let go and trying your hardest to calm down a crying child who accidentally stepped on an ant and killed it, you went to sit under a large oak tree, wanting to be away from the blinding sun.

Why are children so difficult to handle?  you helplessly thought to yourself as you momentarily laid back against the tree trunk, your eyes fluttering close.

Just then you felt something wet stain your arm.

As you peeked your eyes open, you looked up to see a crow sitting on a branch as it blinked at you, making you slowly look down to your right arm.

“You did not.” you gasped as you looked back up at the crow and down at the large pool of shit it left on your arm.

After blinking at your for a bit, almost mockingly, it flew away making you mutter a couple words you knew you shouldn’t have said with all these children around.

As you made your way to the bench where all your stuff were, you pulled out your water bottle and washed the sticky mess from your arm. Casually looking around the playground, you started to make a mental count of all your kids, when suddenly your eyes went wide.

It was as if it all happened in slow motion.

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Angel in the Darkness (M) pt.6

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, cum play, oral, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7



“Ughh” Jin grunts, as he dumps the heavy bagged object on the ground. He turned around, when he heard another thud, from where his youngest brother dropped another bag.

“Does it not bother you?” the 16yr old Jungkook, choked out. His doe eyes were shot wide open, as he stared with immense guilt at the large objects on the ground. He was clenching his fists, afraid that he may break if he looked at his eldest brother.

Jin, honestly didn’t know how to deal with Jungkook. It was always normal to feel bad after completing their father’s tasks, but eventually you’d have to get used to it. But for some reason, Jungkook was never able to become immune to his emotions.

He let out a frustrated sigh, as he looks at his little brother, “Of course it does. You just have to get used to it.”

“Used to this? H-how can anyone live like this?” the boy shakes, trying to control his anger.

“Jungkook, it’s out of our hands. We must always follow father’s orders.”

“How could you even refer to him as a father?! You know what kind of man he is! You know what he did to all of our mothers…” he sobs.

Jin was losing his composure as the boy continued. He knew their father was a vile human being, who was most likely the human form of the devil himself, but he just had to accept it. Every one of his six brothers came to terms with that, except Jungkook. He was different from the rest.

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“3 Weeks”

requested // yes

requests are open // request here

AN // This is pure filth and I’m sorry

TW // Smut, profanity

“Sexual-Frustration. Noun. (countable and uncountable, plural sexual frustrations) A state of agitation felt by an individual whose sexual satisfaction is considerably less than desired”

3 weeks. It had been 3 weeks since he last touched her. It’s not intentional, he’s just been so busy he’s barely noticed and to be fair neither had she but her body had.

For the first week she was fine, content with his fleeting lips on her forehead as he rushed out the door are the tired kisses he gave when he got home late. She was okay with only feeling his hands on the small of her back as he reached over her for his razor as she brushed her teeth. She was fine. The second week was manageable, yes his fleeting lips left her flustered and his tired kisses left her wanting more and sure when his hand brushed over the small of her back it left goosebumps in it’s wake but she could ignore it. She was fine. So why tonight, on the 3 week mark, is she so temperamental? Why has she been short with him all day and why couldn’t she focus on anything at work?

She’d been home from work for about an hour when he walked through the bedroom door. He’s mad at her, she yelled at him this morning for reasons he was unaware of. She’d dodged his phone calls all day and ignored his attempts at finding out what was wrong. Yet he still notices her staring at him when he walks into the room, can see her sat on the bed with her now closed book and her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes follow him around the room, he can feel her watching him and that’s when it clicks. 

He turns and walks to her like a predator who’s found his victim, his hands pulled her clothes off slowly and then parted her thighs as she watched him with wide eyes. He’s not touching her, not how she needs him to, not where she needs him to. He’s leaning over her with that goddamn smirk on his face as his fingers lightly trace her inner thigh.

“Saw yeh staring. This what’s got you so frustrated? Pretty girl missed my hands on her huh?” 

She can’t respond, she doesn’t need to. He knows her answer, can feel her answer.

“Missed y’too, missed how your body reacts to me like the earth does to lightning. Missed how you arch into me, as needful of me as I am of you. Missed this.

She still doesn’t answer, it’s as though his touch leaves her speechless. Her body is too busy welcoming the feeling of his hands on her skin to reply, too busy forming goosebumps to form words.

“S’my pretty girl not gonna talk to me? She not even gonna moan for me?”

He’s asking for it now, almost teasingly, he can see what he’s doing to her yet he still wants to hear it. He wants to hear her.

“Harry I…”

“What baby? Can’t please you if I don’t know what you want”

And she’s trying, trying to tell him what she needs, trying to ask for more but she just can’t. She’s overwhelmed, he hasn’t touched her for weeks and it’s too much yet not enough all at once.

“H please

“Please what poppet?”

He’s making her beg for it. It’s like he’s punishing her, for being moody with him, for not just asking him to touch her, for making him work it out for himself.

“Please touch me, need you to touch me”

“But I am touching you gorgeous”

She almost sobs, she’s so desperate and he’s toying with her. A moan escaped her as his hands moved to her pubic bone. It was all too slow. The moan was more dissatisfaction than the opposite but still it evokes a teasing glint in his eye.

“Am I close sweetheart? M’I close to where you want me?”

All she can do is nod, he’s so close but he’s not there.

“What about here? is this better?”

His hand is flat against her mound and his thumb is rubbing softly just above the top of her clit. Her eyes are wide and watery as she silently pleads with him to give her what she’s so desperate for.

“Oh no, that’s not what you want is it sweets? No, you want me here”

His thumb finally touches her nerves and it has her gasping like it the first time she’s breathed since she saw him walk into the bedroom. He’s barely done anything but yet she’s arching her back and gripping his arm and he’s enthralled with it, with her, he’s only rubbing her in slow circles and she’s writhing.

“More…”

“What was that my love?”

He’s not teasing her anymore, not trying to make her beg, he was just so wrapped up in watching her squirm that he couldn’t comprehend what she was asking for.

“Please H, need more”

“My sweet girl wants more huh? Wants me to make her cum?”

She’s breathless, the rasp in his voice driving her insane. All she can do is say “please” like that and his name are all that’s in her vocabulary right now. Her please makes him smile, she’s completely as his mercy and he loves it. He slips his fore and middle finger into her while his thumb presses steady circles into her clit and she’s whimpering and to him it sounds like heaven. He knows her body like he knows his own name, he knows what makes her tick, so when his fingers touch the most sensitive spots inside of her and she lets out a cry he just smiles, her body is his and he knows how to use it. She can feel her stomach tightening and her heart beat in her throat.

“So close”

“Yeah? Is my pretty girl going to cum for me? Gonna let me watch you break?”

Her eyes are squeezed shut as she nods, he can see tears threatening to spill and he’s proud. His fingers stop moving and instead they press on her softest spot, the spot that makes her scream. The pressure there coupled with his thumb on her clit is too much, she’s hypersensitive and he’s using it against her. Both of her hands grip his wrist as she lets out a sob, his head snaps up in worry just to be stunned with the image of his girl completely wrecked because of him and he swears it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. His free hand moves to cup one side of her face as his thumb brushes away her stray tears, something so innocent compared to what his other thumb is doing to her.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me, that’s my good girl”

His lips are on her cheek as she cums, her hands leave his wrist to grip his shirt tightly in her fist. Her body is stiff and her eyes are shut, tears are still streaming down her face but she’s silent. He’s watching her completely fall apart and he can’t believe he’s gone 3 weeks without seeing this, why was he depriving himself of such a beautiful sight? She’s shuddering as she comes down, her eyes still closed but the death grip she had on his shirt slowly being released as he lays her back against the bed.

“Are you okay my love?”

A shaky breath leaves her as she nods and opens her eyes to look him

“I’ve missed you”

It’s a quiet confession that he would’ve missed had he not been solely focused on her. It makes his heart ache. How he could ever leave this perfect girl, his perfect girl, without his touch for so long is beyond him and he’s making a promise to himself to never leave her without him for that long again, never going to deprive himself of her again. 

Midnight Talks Pt. Three || Peter Parker Imagine

Originally posted by juliechavira

Word Count: 1,322

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Part One     Part Two

He turned and smiled at you, “Hey Y/N.” As the two of you walked across the tile floor together, you started contemplating about inviting Peter to your house tonight. Reaching his locker,you built up the confidence to ask, “Do you want to, maybe, come over to my place tonight to study or something?”

The students in the hallway were quite noisy but all you could hear was Peter’s lovely voice. Not in a good way though. He froze. The girl of his dreams was asking him to hang out. Together. His hopes at spending time with you were quickly shut down as he remembered his new ‘night job’.

“I, I would love to but,“he said while scratching his neck,“I have that internship with Mr. Stark tonight-” He stopped when he saw you blush and look at your shoes. You took his pause as a chance to retaliate, “No, I,um, I get it. Priorities right?” You nervously chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as he just held the door of his locker. You were slowly backing away, wanting to leave the embarrassing situation.“I’ll see you around, Peter.” You turned around, fleeing to your own locker. Peter stood there at his locker, taking out his books. On the soon closed door, he leaned his head against the cool metal, regretting the mistake he just made.


You threw your backpack on the floor and jumped onto your bed face first. Laying flat on your face, you thought about the terrible day you had. You just cried. Rolling over onto your back you realized that nothing ever went your way. The tears kept streaming down your face before you sighed, not feeling motivated to do anything. You decided to wrap yourself in your blanket and sleep.

It was dark outside when you finally woke up. You went and ate your dinner before deciding to call it quits for the day. You practically crawled back to your room. When you got inside the room, you turned around to quietly shut the door. All of a sudden, a clothed hand covered your mouth which muffled your screams of terror and a hand wrapped around your waist. The person removed their hand from your waist to make you turn around. You then came face-to-face with your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. He slowly removed his hand from your mouth, as he saw you no longer struggling against him.

You steadied your breath before speaking sarcastically,“Seriously, man? I thought we were friends.”

Spider-Man looked at the ground ashamed, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just, I didn’t want you to scream but, you screamed anyway so it was kind of pointless.” He was fiddling with his fingers. You sighed, “It’s alright, I was just shocked.” The two of you stood there for a minute before he broke the silence.

“I brought you flowers,” he said, pointing to the bundle of flowers that he placed on your bed. You smiled and walked over to get them. “Do you like them?” He asked as he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. You smiled wider as you started messing with one of the flowers, “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

He walked over to you and sat on the floor, leaning on your bed like the first time you met. You put the flowers back on the bed, bent down and sat next to him as he put his head in his hands sighing. “You don’t look so happy. What’s wrong?” You asked him sympathetically.    

“I have a crush on this girl, and she is just so amazing. But, I think I’ve ruined any chance I had with her.” He said with a low, sad voice, “I just don’t know what to do.”

You put your hand on his back to be supportive. “I know the feeling.”

Spider-Man quickly dusted of his sad emotions, “How was school?” He quickly composed himself. “Um,” you scoffed out of pity for yourself, “horrible. I think I ruined my friendship with Peter, had a surprise quiz in my least favorite class,and I didn’t have time to eat lunch because I was too busy avoiding my friends.” You were on the verge of tears again. You looked up, trying to keep the tears from falling. Spider-Man looked slightly shocked. The strong girl that he knew was about to break down.

He moved his body to a comfortable position where he could hug the sad girl. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist, for the second time that night, and placed his other hand to cradle your head. Small tears leaked from your eyes, which slowly started to soak his suit. You both sat there in a comfortable silence for a while, just in each others company.

You  started to pull away, making Spider-Man pull away too but he stayed in front of you sitting on his shins.“I want you to know, that you’re the highlight of my day, Y/N.  You motivate me to go out and keep helping people, everyday. Without you, I’d be lost.” He spoke with such passion and adoration , placing his hands on both of your cheeks.

You were confused. “But, w-we just met. How can I motivate you if-” before you could finish your sentence, he pulled back. The man looked deeply into your eyes before placing his hands under his chin, on the edge of his mask. He took a deep breath before peeling the mask off of his face.He kept his face down, but only for a second.

He looked up into your eyes. Your mouth was opened slightly, from shock. “Oh God,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. You glanced down at the mask in his hands before looking back up at him. “Peter, what- why- I, how the hell are you Spider-Man?” You asked still in shock.

“It’s a long story. But, everything I just said, I meant every word. You mean so much to me and, things would suck if you weren’t in my life.” Peter said, dropping the mask to put his hands back onto your cheeks. He looked deep into your eyes, and you could see that he meant it all.

“That’s why you said you couldn’t come over.”You chuckled. “I told Spider-Man, that, that I have a crush on you. I literally told you, oh wow. That’s kind of embarrassing.” Saying this made Peter laugh lightly. You enclosed your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. You felt his breath fan out over your skin. He leaned in closer, closing his eyes and tilting his head before crashing his lips down on to yours. His lips were soft, and the kiss was passionate.

The two of you pulled away to take a breath of air. “Wow,” he said, eyes slightly wide which made you laugh.

“Do you want to go out with me, maybe?” He asked with a wide grin. “I would love to Spider-Man.” You replied with a smile mirroring his.


The next day at school, you found Peter, standing alone at your locker on his phone. You smiled with a blush, remembering last night. “Hey.” You said approaching him.

He looked up from his phone to see you, putting the device in his pocket, “Hello gorgeous.” He greeted you as he pulled your hips towards him so he can place his lips on yours once again. He didn’t care that there were people everywhere, he just really wanted to kiss you.

Down the hall, Michelle and Ned stood dumbstruck. “I knew it,” the two teens exclaimed in unison as they saw their friends passionately kissing. Ned pulled out his phone and opened his camera. “What are you doing?” Michelle asked. Ned smirked, “Taking a picture to show their kids.”

tagged dudes

@wiccanjr @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @miraisnotavailable

anonymous asked:

Could you do some Phil deepthroating Dan for the first time and Dan starts crying because he's afraid he's choking with Phil coming down his throat because of how much Dan's hiccuping? Honestly, I'd give my life for this shit.

“Pleaseee?” Dan whined, pouting and rocking where he sat cross legged on Phil’s bed.

“Dan, I don’t think that’s-”

Dan interrupted him by pouncing on him, pinning him and pushing him backwards on the bed. “Do you not want me or something…?”

Phil could feel his face flush, but he rolled his eyes at his hyper boyfriend.

“I do, Dan, of course I do but I-”

“Then what’s the problem!” Dan trailed his fingers down Phil’s stomach, placing a messy kiss on his jaw. “Don’t you want my mouth on your cock?” He asked, softly.

Phil sucked in a sharp breath. “Baby-” he choked. “I do, I really really do, but I… I tend to get a bit… excited.”

Dan smirked, playing with Phil’s button teasingly, straddling his hips.

“Well good, that’s the point.”

Phil took a shaky breath, allowing Dan to unbutton his jeans and begin to push them down his hips, revealing the clear tent in his boxers from all this. Dan grinned wickedly.

Dan had been trying to get this from Phil for ages, and now that they were finally alone together, in Phil’s room, he was gonna pin him down. No escaping this time.

Dan was a giant cockslut, and Phil’s dick was… fuck.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Phil whined breathily, playing with Dan’s hair as he slid down Phil’s stomach.

“You won’t.” Dan frowned. “How would you hurt me?”

Phil swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and bit his lip. “I told you, I get a bit excited…”

Dan crawled back up the bed, pressing his nose to Phil’s. “Choke me,” he whispered. “Fuck my throat, don’t care. Wanna get you off.”

Phil let a shuddery gasp fall from his lips, and he nodded, no words coming to mind.

“Tap my hip twice if you want to stop,” he finally muttered, and now Dan nodded.

He went back down, brushing his hands down Phil’s stomach and making him shiver. Dan’s lip quivered with anticipation.

He slowly rubbed at the head of the bulge in Phil’s boxers, looking up to watch his reaction. He didn’t regret it when Phil groaned, a soft, strangled noise, gripping Dan’s hair tightly.

Dan grinned, dipping down to kiss his tip; mouthing him slowly and teasingly.

Light huffs of frustration and arousal were leaving Phil’s mouth in bursts, and he squirmed under Dan’s touch. It felt nice to have him be the one like this; it was usually Dan whimpering at the slightest touch from the older.

“Dan,” Phil whined, tugging at his hair, and Dan nodded.

He tugged at the waistband of the older boy’s boxers, pulling them off over his erection. As soon as they were past his knees, Dan went to work. He took Phil’s head into his mouth, swirling his tongue and flicking over the tip like he had practiced so many times for this exact moment.

Phil moaned loudly, throwing his head back, shifting his legs.

Dan couldn’t help himself anymore; he sunk down on his cock, his mouth enveloping Phil’s shaft and taking it to the hilt. He only lasted a few seconds before he was pulling back, sputtering and gasping for breath.

Phil gasped sharply, tugging on Dan’s hair and pulling him back down, desperate for more. Dan obliged, swallowing around his cock and licking everywhere he could reach.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil cursed, his voice strained and broken, and Dan’s dick twitched in his jeans. He moaned around Phil, and Phil instinctively bucked his hips.

Dan choked, a muffled gagging noise humming against Phil’s cock as it hit the back of his throat. He could feel his face going red, but fuck this was hot, and Phil was clearly enjoying it.

Dan blinked up at him, rutting slightly against the bed, watching Phil grip the sheets beneath him.

“D-Dan, n-need-”

Dan pulled off with a pop, his eyes glinting.

“Fuck my mouth.”

Before Phil could respond Dan flipped them, so Phil was hovering over his face, and Dan sucked on his tip.

Phil groaned, his thighs shaking, but he hesitated. “Dan, I’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” Dan breathed, trying to pull Phil’s hips down. “I’ll be fine. I’ll stop you if I need it. Two taps, remember?”

Phil pressed his lips together, and slowly nodded, shifting his hips so his cock was perfectly over Dan’s mouth.

Phil thrust slowly at first, not reaching the back of Dan’s throat, and Dan responded eagerly; licking and sucking at every part of him he could reach. Phil trembled with need, and finally gave in, snapping his hips.

Dan gagged, a wet, whiny noise that made Phil groan and do it again.

Dan gripped Phil’s hips, digging his nails into the flesh as Phil thrust again and again. He could feel his face going very red, and his breathing was ragged and short, getting hardly any time to get the oxygen he needed.

But still, he was insanely aroused by the fact that Phil was using him like this, using his mouth as a toy. Just something to get him off.

Dan whimpered around Phil’s shaft, his lips stretched to the maximum. He felt tears being squeezed out of his eyes, and he couldn’t breathe, but he would never make Phil stop. He was making such delicious noises from above him, fucking into Dan’s mouth greedily, gripping the pillow at his head.

Dan gagged wetly, barely aware of the tears now streaming down his face. His mind was fuzzy, all of his senses focused on Phil. He clawed at Phil’s hips desperately, rutting his hips against nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut, choking, and he hiccuped.

Phil groaned, snapping his hips hard, and Dan whimpered, hiccuping again.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Phil cursed breathlessly. “Holy shit, Dan, baby, so good.”

Dan hummed, hiccuping a third time and making a noise that sounded like a suction cup. Now he couldn’t stop hiccuping, squirming under Phil, choked sobs emerging, conflicted between escaping the thing blocking his air and leaning into it.

Without warning Phil came down his throat, pulling back to finish on his lips. Dan gratefully licked it up, gasping for breath, his face regaining color.

“Shit,” Phil cursed again, sitting up and reaching forward to touch Dan’s face, drawing his thumb over his bottom lip. “Are you okay? Shit, you’re gonna have bruises on your lips, god I’m so sorry-”

“Phil,” Dan interrupted, his voice raspy and quiet. Phil’s eyes widened. “It’s fine. I asked for it. I’m…” he smiled sleepily. “I’m glad that now everyone can see I’m yours.” He was stifled by a yawn, blinking at his boyfriend.

“Alright baby,” Phil whispered, still somewhat concerned. “I’m guessing you’re staying the night…?”

Dan didn’t answer, falling backwards on his bed, falling asleep immediately.

epiphany | jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook + Reader 

Genre: Fluff + college au 

Word Count: 3.6k 

Part: | 1 | 2 |  

Summary: You hated his guts, especially after he ruined your chance at getting a good grade in one of your toughest classes. But why did your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him? And why did he feel the same way?

Reader’s POV

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a failing grade, Y/N…” Mr.Ransford frowned,“ You should’ve saved your work somewhere separately you know?”

You gaped at him in complete shock, as everything came crashing down on you.

“B-but you don’t understand! It wasn’t my fault-” you stammered, your hands flailing around in a frenzy as you attempted to explain your dire situation to your psychology professor.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I’m afraid we can’t discuss this right now, I have a class in 2 minutes. We’ll talk later, hm?” he said as you sighed, your shoulders slumping in utter defeat.

He patted your shoulders in sympathy as you walked out of the door, tears welling up in your eyes as you thought of all your hard work that was now flushed down the drain. All because of one boy.

That damn Jeon Jungkook.

—-

“YAH!” you yelled, raging, as you approached the boys, a deadly glare in your eyes as you grabbed Jungkook by the collar of his tshirt. Pulling him up from the bleachers where him and the rest of his friends were sitting, all of them gasped, mouths going agape as they witnessed their golden maknae get manhandled by you.

“Y/N~What a pleasure,” Jungkook said, giving you a lazy smirk.

Your blood boiled at the audacity the boy had, to address you in such a way, after he had destroyed your chance at a good grade- heck a good year of college. Without thinking first, you lifted your hand and slapped him across the face, the contact shooting vibrations of pain down your arm as the noise echoed in the air. Immediate silence followed, everyone looking at the two of you with rounded eyes as Jungkook himself, was in shock.

You stood there, your chest rising up and down, breathing heavy as you glowered at him. His hands flew to his cheek as he let out a stream of curse words, his gaze landing on yours, fire kindling in his eyes as he reddened in embarrassment.

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The Things We Fear

This was a lot gayer than I thought it would be. I owe the outline of the first part to @thesickficsideblog, but I kinda ran away with it at the end. I swear, it wasn’t supposed to be Klance, but my hand slipped. I’ll put it on ao3 later.

Summar: Lance gets trapped in a room full of fear gas, and the team can’t do anything but watch.

Implied/referenced torture

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Little Jealous There, Sarge? {Part Two}

{Part One}

Summary: There’s nothing wrong with not being the most experienced person in the bedroom. In fact, some people find it rather attractive, particularly James Buchanan Barnes. Although you express how much you want him, Bucky remains distant; he doesn’t want to do anything to hurt you. So what do you do? You elicit Sam’s help.

Warnings: jealous!Bucky x inexperienced!Reader, fluff, smut, biting kink, light bondage, metal arm kink, Winter Soldier kink (mentioned only), forced orgasm, toys

A/N: Inspired after spending some quality time with @mermanbuckybarnes and learning just how jealous Bucky can get.

Originally posted by stuckwithbuck

“You’ve been naughty, (Y/N),” Bucky whispered in your ear as he slid his hands around your waist. “And you’re going to get punished.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You arched your back off the bed to allow Bucky more access to your zipper. “You’re in charge, Sarge.”

“Good girl.” He chuckled in your ear as he stripped you of your dress. “Oh, so beautiful, kitten.” He stood and admired your unique undergarments. 

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I Believe In You, Bro

If there’s one thing Nursey doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to about living at Samwell, it’s having to drive places.  In New York, what isn’t in walking distance is in biking distance, what isn’t in biking distance is accessible by the subway, and everything outside of the subway isn’t really worth visiting. Samwell, however, is sort of in the middle of nowhere.  Dex and Bitty acted like it was some kind of urban center, just an hour out from Boston, but to Nursey, it was suburbia at best, and that required a car.

Nursey was thinking about all this because he was currently gripping the wheel of his seven year old Hyundai Sonata, weaving his way through the roads that surrounded Samwell’s campus, searching for a lost frog. He really hated driving, but Whiskey had called him at midnight and told him about how one of the newest team members had apparently left the Haus halfway through the annual start of the season kegster and no-one had seen him since.  Nursey had called the guy four times, and it kept going straight to voicemail, so either his phone was dead, or he didn’t want to talk.  Unfortunately for him, Nursey wasn’t the kind of captain who let his players stew in their emotions.  He knew better than that.

It was close to 1 AM when Nursey finally pulled onto the gravel road leading to the lakefront.  The water was still, a cool black mirror that reflected the stars, the firebugs, and the boy sitting at the edge of the lake’s pier. He didn’t move at all when he heard the car pull up, just kept staring out into the distance, across the lake.  His feet didn’t quite touch the surface of the water. He had put his shoes and socks back at the place where the pier met the road, where Nursey stood, pulling off his sandals and walking softly to the edge. The new guy took a deep breath when Nursey sat down.  He could hear it rattle.

“How’d you find me?”

Nursey looked up at the moon.  It hung heavy over the lake, a warm yellow color that gave the night a comforting sort of glow.  He looked at the boy next to him, probably barely 18 and out of the house for the first time, scared stiff and not sure what to do outside of act tough and, apparently, run away if things got overwhelming.

“I went to your dorm first.  Your roommate let me in, told me he didn’t know where you were.  I saw a picture, though.  Of you out on a lake, holding a fish.  I figured this was as good a bet as any.”

The frog exhaled and looked down at the lake.  His hands were still shaking, and Nursey could tell that his eyes were getting wet. A breeze was coming off the lake, and it ruffled its way through their hair.  Nursey didn’t say anything.  It wasn’t him who needed to talk right now.  

“Back on my old team, everyone called me Jones.”

Nursey just looked at him.  

“Some of the guys-Will and Chris?-were talking about nicknames, and one of them, the one with the Sharks hoodie, asked me what mine was. It was Jones, but like, I really fucking hate that name.”

His hand was still shaking, Nursey pulled his legs up from where they were dangling off the pier and turned to face the frog completely. His eyes were more than just wet now, he was crying, no holds barred, and Nursey was torn between not wanting to see his teammate hurting, and knowing that crying was good sometimes, that this guy needed to let whatever it was that made him run so far away off his chest.

“I just-fuck, listen, I know it sounds stupid, but I’m a shitty hockey player, and that’s why my nickname was Jones, because that’s average, and that’s all I am at best, and being at that party with Jack fucking Zimmerman and Justin Oluransi, who’s like, the best defensive player that the Sharks ever had, and even you, you’re the captain, you’re one of the best players in college hockey PERIOD and I’m just some random guy from Minnesota who doesn’t even deserve to be here, on this team, with so many people who’re practically icons-”

Not-Jones broke off them, voice cracking in frustration. He stared angrily at the lake, tears streaming down his face, trying to keep from sobbing.  

“Your name is Karam, right? Karam Hashmat, Number 37, from West Hill, Minnesota?”

Karam looked up at Nursey defensively, face flushed. Nursey could see the dark circles under his eyes, and he felt the familiar pang of worry for this kid.  The hardest part of being a captain, for Nursey, was realizing he couldn’t fix everyone’s problems, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

“Okay, Karam, first things first? No-one is going to call you a name you hate.  We’re a team, and we can’t be that if we’re also being dicks to each other.Second, I’ve been playing hockey since I was a kid. I’ve played with Jack and Justin and Eric Bittle and fuck, Chris Chow, the guy in the Sharks hoodie? Give him two years and he’ll be dominating the NHL, he’s the best goalie that this sport’s ever seen, and I’d bet my life on that.”

“Is this supposed to be helpful?”

Nursey gave Karam a small nudge with his shoulder, smiled at him gently.

“Yeah, bro. Give me a sec, I’m getting there.  My point is, I’ve seen some great players in my day. I can tell who’s great, and who’s bad, and who’s average. Coach showed me your tapes, Karam.  We need a center who’s great, because Whiskey is a badass but he won’t be here forever, and I think you can be that guy.  Fuck what anyone else says, I can tell who can do this.  Everything, your stats, your tapes, your drive in practice, none of that is average, and it sure as fuck isn’t bad.”

He looked at Karam earnestly.

“Dude, I believe in you.”

Karam glanced up at Nursey, tears still coming, but slower now, with less urgency.

“Do you mean that, Captain?”

Nursey grinned, and stood up.  He put out his hand for Karam.

“100% my man.  Now lets get back to the Haus, you can crash on the couch and make Bittle cry before he goes home to Providence.”

Karam laughed, and grabbed Nursey’s hand to help pull himself up. Nursey slung his arm around Karam’s shoulder as they walked back to their cars, the moon still softly glowing in the night sky behind them. 

English Is Hard, Okay?! Langst Prompt Fill

For the anon who wanted a story where Lance had a hard time speaking English and the paladins teasing him for it.


Lance walked into the kitchen one morning with dark circles under his eyes. He trudged over to get a bowl and began filling it with food goo.

“You look like shit, Lance” Keith teased, trying to egg Lance into one of their normal fights. The other paladins ignored the banter, used to the Red and Blue paladins fighting.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t feel like fighting today, Keith, sorry,” Lance said, trying to get his food goo and leave as quickly as possible.

Keith frowned. Lance wasn’t playing along.
Usually this kind of stuff cheered the Blue paladin right up!

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed? I was just teasing, you just look a little tired,” Keith said, trying, again, to lighten the mood.

“No, you know what Keith? I didn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed I woke up in the wrong fucking bed after a dream where I had to watch my family die!

And I can’t even know if they’re actually alive because I’m not even in the same fucking galaxy as them and I didn’t want to fight and I thought I made that clear when I literally told you I didn’t want to but obviously I was wrong.

Hopefully I made it clear this time so I can go eat in my room and nobody will bother me,” Lance said calmly. The lack of emotion in his voice was unnerving. He took his bowl, grabbed a spoon, and left the room.

The other paladins glanced at each other with wide eyes as they watched the usually energetic and fun paladin walk off to his room.

Keith ate the rest of his meal with his head down, and nobody dared to break the tense silence.

After breakfast everyone broke off to work on their own projects or do whatever they needed until group training.

A few hours later, everyone was waiting in the training room for Lance. He walked in about ten minutes late, dressed in workout clothes the castle provided. He stared silently at the ground as Allura began to lecture him on his tardiness.

Training began with a few warm up laps around the room.

Lance visibly pulled himself together and worked a smile onto his face.

He nudged Pidge as he passed her, and high fives Shiro as he passed him.

Lance always enjoyed this portion of training since he was undeniably the fastest paladin (without their lions anyway).

When they slowed to a stop after five laps, Allura directed everyone to different parts of the room to work on things each were bad at.

Lance was shown the middle of the room, to fight close range with the gladiator. Hunk gave Lance a sympathetic glance.

Lance fought the gladiator for almost two hours. The other paladins had been allowed a break when they managed to finish whatever task they were given, but Lance had been at a stalemate with the damn gladiator.

The blue paladin began to slow down due to exhaustion, and the gladiator got in one well placed hit before it shut down.

Lance plopped himself down on a bench with the rest of the paladins as Allura and Coran talked.

Shiro leaned forward to look at Lance, whose eyes were closed as he leaned against the wall.

“Hey, you did good, buddy,” Shiro said, knowing that Lance had worked harder than any of them had that day.

Lance opened his eyes at the praise. He was sure he was going to get scolded for losing, and a smile worked it’s way onto his face.

“Thanks, Shiro. You did really well too. Hunk, you were really awesome with that thing you were running on.”

Pidge barked out a short burst of laughter.

“What was Hunk running on, again, Lance?” Pidge asked, barely concealed laughter coloring her voice.

“Um the thing where the ground moves so you can run in place?” Lance explained, frowning.

“Oh my god, Lance doesn’t know what a treadmill is!” Pidge shouted, cackling.

Her laughter prompted everyone but Lance to laugh along with her. Everyone had needed a laugh after a tense morning and a hard workout.

The laughter died down and Hunk looked over to see that Lance had tears in his eyes and his muscles were tensed.

“Hey, Lance, buddy, you alright?” Hunk asked, drawing the team’s attention.

Lance shook his head.

“I know it’s stupid and you guys think I’m stupid but it’s really fucking hard sometimes. I never learned the damn word.

Just like I don’t know what half the stuff Hunk and Pidge are talking about because I learned science and engineering and math in Cuba. In SPANISH.

I have to translate everything I’m thinking into a different fucking language because I grew up with no English at all!

And when I got to the Garrison I had to deal with people’s bullshit on my accent and how I couldn’t speak English correctly and I thought you guys didn’t care about stuff like that but maybe I just hadn’t messed up yet!

I’m sorry I suck at English and I forgot what a fucking treadmill is, but I promise you, I didn’t forget because I’m stupid. I remembered what to say in Spanish.

I’m sorry if my explanation wasn’t good enough, but I’m pretty sure you guys wouldn’t have understood it if I told you Hunk was running on a cinta de correr!!!” Lance yelled, taking a few deep breaths as he finished ranting.

Lance stood there, fuming for a few moments, tears openly streaming down his face. Everyone stared in shock, unsure what to make of Lance’s outburst.

The blue paladin waited for someone to say something, and when no-one did he bolted from the room, eyes wide and terrified.

Hunk ran after him after a moment. He knew exactly where his best friend would be.


Thanks for this prompt! Hope you like it! I’m thinking of posting a part two?

A History of Violence

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader - A/B/O

(part one of two)

Summary: You and Sam are a bonded pair with four children. You’re both interrogated by the police who are convinced that Sam and Dean are running a criminal enterprise.

This falls into the same AU as The Brown Bottle, Moonlight and The Derby

Warnings: Language, violence, murder, dom/sub overtones. mentions of: knotting, breeding, claiming, giving birth

Words: 3800+

Beta: The always wonderful @saxxxology

Your name: submit What is this?



The Raid

It’s just after one in the afternoon and you’re cutting the crust from a peanut butter sandwich. “Liam, you want jelly on yours?”

You son looks up from up his sea of building blocks with a grimace on his face. “No!”

“Alright, no jelly,” you confirm. His cheeks are pink, hair stuck to his forehead. The air conditioning broke two days ago and Sam promised to have one of his guys come by to look at it by tonight. “You look hot buddy, why don’t you come in here.”

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baby, my baby | 04

Originally posted by kookmin

“Raise my child, just for twelve months”

◇ pairing: jungkook | reader
◇ genre: angst, fluff. parents au
◇ word count: 3.3 k
◇ author’s note: i will be updating this series every friday evening, 11~12pm korean time! i really hope you enjoy!

part one  ↠ ↠ previous part ↠ part four next part 

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for you pt. 1

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Badboy Taehyung, angst, implied smut

Word Count: 4.4k

Originally posted by vminv


Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

You knew better than to fall for someone like him. If he looked like trouble, then he probably was trouble. But you were never one to listen. There was something about him that drew you in. Maybe it was his voice. It was thick like honey and rolled off his tongue like the breeze on a hot summer day. Or maybe it was the rare moments where he let his guard down and flashed you that boxy smile that reminded you that underneath that tough exterior, there was a softness.

You remembered the first time you saw him. You were with your friends sitting outside of the only decent coffee shop on campus. Summer break was looming. The only thing holding you back between a summer without papers and deadlines were exams. And you had a lot of them. The only reason you had even left the library was because you were ambushed. Pairs of hands grabbing you and your things and dragging you out of the frozen solitude that was the library.

But they had their reasons. Momo had just caught the man she swore she thought she would marry (the 4th man she has ever felt this way about) cheating on her. They had been together for almost 6 months, but her’s wasn’t the only bed he was keeping warm. She was in hysterics by the time the barista had finished making your quad soy latte.

“I don’t understand how he could do this to me!” she shrieked between sobs. Her body was shaking violently. Your other best friends, Sana and Mina, were trying to console her. Mina was rubbing circles around her back while Sana was trying to convince Momo that if he was the one than he wouldn’t have done this in the first place.

“What happened this time?” you asked. You didn’t bother to try to hide the disinterest in your voice. You knew Momo and you knew how fast she bounced back. It might have seemed like the end of the world now, but the girl had a rubber heart. She would be back in the ring in no time.

“He cheated! That’s what happened!” her voice cracked as she spoke. “He told me he was going to spend all night in the library. But Mina and I went out last night and he was there. He was kissing some gir-” her words broke into sobs. Sana wrapped her arms around her and pulled Momo into a tight hug.

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A Couple That Games Together

Pairing: Stuart Twombly x Reader

Authors: @ninja-stiles & @mf-despair-queen

Words: 6551

Warnings: NSFW (18+), Oral (female receiving), Edging, Teasing, Stuart being a dick, Horrible video game references.

Author’s Note: Me and Mal co-wrote this (obviously) because Stuart is adorable and sexy af. We have also decided to enter this for Stuart Week ( @sarcasticallystilinski & @rememberstilinski )! This is pure filth and fluff and angst all in one. We make a good team! Lol.


Originally posted by dylanholyhellobrien


It all started in my freshman year of college. That’s when I first met him. The snarky, sarcastic, beanie-wearing cutie that is Stuart Twombly.

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luciel-mi-angel  asked:

i wanna request that HC with Mc almost leaving s/o (the one in your masterpost)

Yoosung


Jaehee

  • Jaehee was working herself too hard
  • She hadn’t taken a break since they’d opened the café
  • MC manages to convince Jaehee to take a day off with her and close cafe early so that they can go see Zen’s musical together
  • However, a few days before their evening out, Jaehee books a private event at the cafe when the play is supposed to start
  • They argue about it because Jaehee thinks it will be a great chance to promote the cafe, but MC says Jaehee promised and needs some time away from work
  • In the end, they just pout at each other and don’t speak for a little while
  • MC goes to the musical alone and no, she’s not being stubborn, Jaehee is!
  • After the play, Zen asks MC to come backstage so she can ask about Jaehee, but MC explains everything that happened
  • Zen agrees to go with her to the cafe to talk to Jaehee during the private event, as he wants to see her as well (he likes hanging out with the two of them)
  • When they arrive, the party is in full swing, someone tries to force them out because “it’s a private event”, but before MC can state she’s a co-owner, a guest recognizes Zen and says they’re with her
  • MC goes to find Jaehee and sees her being kissed by another woman
  • Granted, it’s on the cheek, but it took forever for Jaehee to get comfortable with PDA from MC
  • So MC turns around and walks out to go home and cry
  • The next day, MC proposes they break up before the cafe opens and anyone else is there, even saying she found all the documents online to give/sell her half of the cafe to Jaehee
  • Jaehee is very quick to stop this line of thinking and the two of them have a long, serious talk about all their problems
  • Jaehee ends up agreeing to take one day off a month to go on a date with MC, but only if MC will help her rake in more customers with events and such

Zen

  • It’s their one year anniversary of being married
  • In months leading up to it, Zen made a bigger deal of it than she did
  • Not to mention, Valentine’s Day and Christmas were his favorite holiday and he’d gone all out for those every single time
  • And not only does Zen forget
  • But he goes out drinking after work with a few cast mates
  • He even makes a post inviting fans to come hang out with them
  • He’s posting things on his FB page, twitter and Instagram the whole time
  • MC had made a nice dinner to surprise him when he got home, but when she saw his social media, she goes on the Messenger and cries
  • She ends up packing a bag and is getting into a cab to go Jaehee’s place for a little while (she was sweet enough to offer her couch if MC needed some time away)
  • Zen comes home right about then, a little too drunk, and asks where she’s going
  • “Check the Messenger.” Is all she says before she slams the door
  • Zen goes inside and sees and…. fuck. Fuck. FUCK!!!
  • How could he have been such a jerk!!
  • He sees the beautiful meal she made, the remnants of candles, and so on, and he’s fucked up, royally
  • When he gets a notification that MC is online, he jumps on, interrupting a conversation between her and Jumin about the furball
  • Immediately, she logs off
  • In the morning, he goes to work, he does what he has to, then he goes to Jaehee’s.
  • Jaehee lets him in because she wants him to apologize to MC (who had been crying a lot because of him)
  • He swears it’ll never happen again
  • He begs forgiveness
  • He even promises to give her a whole day, just for her, if only she’ll come home
  • She agrees, but only just barely, and even then, she refuses to share the bed with him
  • Zen immediately calls his director, claims to be sick and says he needs a day off
  • He sleeps on the floor next to the couch because he refuses to be away from her until she forgives him
  • He takes her on a long, romantic date, treats her like more than a princess, when people ask what the occasion is, he tells the truth; he forgot their first anniversary and is making it up to her
  • They first shame him, then they give him advice or free stuff to help (or they just give it to her with a sad, “oh honey, I’m so sorry he forgot.”)
  • Halfway through the day, she says that being mad at him is exhausting and she just want to go home and take a nap
  • He refuses because he promised her a day and now he plans to make it a day
  • When they’re stoped in the park by some of his fans, he excuses himself from them, politely stating he’s on a date with his wife
  • The girls “awwwww” because it’s super cute how enamored with her he is
  • By the time they get home, she’s exhausted and can’t believe he packed so much into one day
  • But it doesn’t end there
  • He draws her up a bubble bath (and joins her after setting something up)
  • And when they get out, he has candles lit in their bedroom
  • Love making ensues
  • The morning, she aches in all the right ways, and is surprised when Zen drags her back into bed when she tries to get up to eat, and whispers that because he had so much fun yesterday, he called out sick today too
  • But this time, he plans on them staying home all day ;)

Jumin

  • One of Jumin’s high society “friends” says that MC is “kind of plain” and “surprisingly uncultured” and “clumsy”
  • To Jumin’s face
  • MC knows she can be clumsy, but it genuinely wasn’t her fault she bumped into that guy and spilled her drink on him
  • Hell, she’s heard comments like this before, and she’s honestly not even really bothered by them
  • Until Jumin agrees with him
  • She walks out of the party without saying a word, is driven back to the pent house and packs up her things
  • Anything Jumin has bought her with his money, she throws in the garbage
  • She ends up with a surprisingly small backpack from her high school days
  • She writes a note, “Since I’m so uncultured, I didn’t know the proper protocol for this, so I’m sorry if it’s not to your tastes. But I am leaving. I won’t tell you where I’m going. Hopefully the absence of my plain face won’t bother you.”
  • To her surprise, Elizabeth blocks her way and won’t let her leave the penthouse
  • She manages to get past Elizabeth eventually, but by then she has 10 missed calls from Jumin, 1-5 from the other RFA members, and bumps into Jumin in the lobby on her way out
  • He’s so relieved she’s okay, but MC fibs to him and says her mother is in the hospital and she needs to go visit right away, and she wants to go alone
  • He allows this because he knows how stubborn and independent she can be
  • When she’s in the car, she reads the messages, finds out that Jumin noticed her absence near-immediately and went looking for her
  • When he couldn’t find her, he panicked
  • He and the RFA all assumed that she had been kidnapped
  • She ends up actually just going to her mothers, and once Driver Kim has left, she goes to a hotel to stay the night
  • As soon as she’s checked in, she gets a call from Jumin demanding to know where she is. He refuses to lose her.
  • “Maybe next time, pick someone better suited to you,” she says. “Some one beautiful and graceful and refined. Like maybe Sarah.” Then she hangs up.
  • He calls her all through the night, although she shut her phone off pretty quickly
  • In the morning, she listens to his messages as he gets increasingly more desperate, even breaking down into tears at some point
  • After breakfast is delivered to her room, she gets a call from 707, who starts speaking so frantically, she can’t understand him
  • What he boils it down to is, “Thank god you turned on your phone, Jumin paid me a lot of money to track you down, and I can’t fail him. I have to fill up my babies with premium~”
  • This whole conversation happens while she’s eating
  • Then there’s a knock on the door as she finishes her food
  • With a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and 707 still on the phone in her hand, she answers the door to three security guards and Jumin
  • The toast falls out of her mouth
  • Jumin forces himself inside the room, shuts the door, and grabs her phone
  • “Thank you, Luciel, the money will be wired to you by the end of the day.”
  • Jumin then hangs up and throws the phone across the room
  • He then grabs MC and kisses her
  • When he pulls away, she sees how bedraggled he looks. He’s still wearing the same suit form the night before, it’s wrinkled and his hair is a mess
  • He begs her never to leave him again
  • He apologizes a million times, telling her she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever met and that he was barely even paying attention to what that man said, he didn’t even realize until it was too late
  • He loves her too much to lose her
  • MC ends up realizing she hurt him just as much as he hurt her and apologizes for leaving like that, for saying the things she did, it was unfair
  • After holding each other for a little while, Jumin declares he’s going to take a day off of work, and they are going to stay in this hotel room until the next day
  • MC just rolls her eyes at this, but sure, fine, whatever

Saeyoung

  • He’d been acting… distant
  • Of course, part of it was because he was keeping an eye on Saeran, who was having a really bad stream of episodes
  • More than once, Saeran had lashed out at one or both of them
  • It didn’t help that Saeyoung was trying really hard to get out of the spy life and was doing his best to keep hackers away from them
  • MC did the best she could not to be a burden on him since he had so much on his plate
  • If MC was around, she’d help around the house by cleaning, making decent meals for the brothers, making sure they at least tried to eat, and so on
  • One day, however, Saeyoung snaps at MC that he’s fine, he doesn’t need her to put on a show and he just needs her to leave
  • When she comes back a few hours later with food and note with a joke on it, he’s still frustrated and says he told her to get out
  • So MC says goodbye to Saeran and goes home
  • She stops texting him good morning and good night at this point
  • At first, he just assumes she forgot, no big deal, that or she’s mad at him
  • Goes on for three days, then he realizes he’s hungry and Saeran almost sets fire to the kitchen trying to cook with some of the ingredients MC bought and left behind
  • Saeyoung cooks, but its not as good
  • He goes to check on MC at her apartment, only to find all the cameras are taped over, so he has to go in person
  • When he gets there, MC refuses to open the door
  • When Saeyoung asks why, she informs him that, she’s been trying her best to take care of him and Saeran, but Saeyoung continues to push her away
  • After everything they’ve been through, and he’s still pushing her away
  • Saeran really isn’t the best company, either, but she doesn’t blame him for that
  • When Saeyoung told her he didn’t need her, that he didn’t want her, MC decided that, if that’s what he thought would make him happy, she’d listen
  • He doesn’t need to see her again
  • Guess who’s begging for forgiveness through her apartment door?
  • Saeyoung just starts apologizing uncontrollably, saying he didn’t mean it, he loves her, needs her, Saeran needs her totally doesn’t almost ruin the apology by saying that they really need her to cook because Saeran can’t, and he’s not very good
  • Eventually MC lets him in and they hug and kiss and make up
  • MC also starts teaching Saeran to cook so there aren’t anymore… incidents
  • soon Saeran is a better cook than she is, but he doesn’t let Saeyoung have any when he “acts weird” and more often than not, if he goes to deliver food to his brother, he dumps the plate on the table in such a way that some of the food usually goes flying