we can be good without god

me: camren’s dead camila left there’s literally absolutely no reason to ship camren anymore

*lauren comes out as bi*
*lauren sings gay anthem*
Camila: *makes a song that’s not about a boy but about a break up*
“ You may think, that you’ll die without her But you know, that’s a lie that you told yourself”
How do I fix it? Can we talk? Can we communicate? Can we talk? Do I wanna fix it? I have questions for you (I’m afraid of youIs it my fault? Is it my fault? Do you miss me?
“ So here’s your ticket girl, it’s a shot And I can’t make decisions with the stress”
“ When she drop, it bounce back like a yo-yo (Oh) my God, you look good today”
 “ And I’m a sucker for the way that you move, babe
“ Sneaking in LA when the lights are low Off of one touch I could overdose”
“ Lately I wonder how it feels to steal your kiss”

me: fuck

remember that time? → inspired by this post by @vrepit-sals

“God,” says Lance with a laugh, leaning further back into the sofa, “Do you remember the first time Hunk corrected Iverson in class?”

Hunk smiles a little proudly, and Pidge bounces in her seat, pointing at Lance with a gasp. Keith is silent, but watches them fondly as they chatter, unconsciously finding himself paying more attention to Lance’s toothy smile and slightly tussled hair than the topic in question.

“Yes!” Pidge hisses, “Quiznak, I can’t believe I forgot about that! Hands down the best day of my life.”

Keith smiles from where he’s sitting, crosslegged and barefoot for once on the couch next to Pidge, chin resting on his propped up hand as he listens to the others reminisce about the Garrison. He doesn’t remember much from his days there; mostly because a great deal of it was monotonous, but he does remember the incident in question. 

Keep reading

Future Mrs. G - Dick Grayson x Reader

YJ verse where you’re on the team but you don’t really get along with Dick for whatever reason until Bart comes from the future and only knows you as Mrs.Grayson + Saw the “Bart knows the Reader as the future Mrs. Grayson” and I raise you Bart knows the reader as the future Mrs. Todd but cannot say a goddamn thing until Jay shows back up again. Optional: the reader from the Dick fic (*snorts*) and the reader from the Jay fic are besties. Not necessary but adds another element, no? + IF YOU SEE GOTHAM do you remember that episode where Dick parents appeared and also were fighting and couldn’t bear each other until jim made their families rebound and at the end were both cutie pies in love and went to thank Detective Gordon? I just remembered for the Bart thing like : Mrs. Grayson? Gordon: oh yes you remind me of your parents kid, lmao.

 A/N: This is a combination of a bunch of prompts because a ton of people asked for a fic where Bart comes from the future and knows shit. I figured it would all fit nicely together!

“UGH! You’re such an ass!” You shouted, pushing against Dick’s chest. He didn’t even wobble from the impact which only frustrated you more.

“You want to talk about it sweetheart?” He asked condescendingly.

You – You UGH! My mission? Really??? You gave the mission that I’ve been working on for a year to fucking Lagoon Boy? You know Dick you typically take a girl out on a date before you fuck her over!” You seethed. He appeared infuriatingly calm in the face of your anger.

“Lagoon Boy’s skills were more suited to the mi-“

“I don’t give a flying fuck why you chose him. That was my case. You had no right.” You said accentuating your anger with sharp pokes to his chest.

“I had every right. I’m serving as team leader while Kaldur is home visiting Atlantis. That means I’m calling the shots and I say you’re off the mission. Get over it or go home.” He replied firmly, his mouth set in a hard line as you glared up at him. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

“You keep pushing this and I’m going to make your life a living hell Dick Grayson. I will not be sidelined.” You hissed.

“Is that a threat?” He asked, his eyes narrowing at you. You didn’t even flinch at his intense glare.

“It’s a fucking promise.” You swore before turning on your heel and storming off.


“I can’t believe him Red! He’s such a fucking ass!” You complained to your best friend. The two of you were sitting in the near abandoned grotto where all the tributes to the fallen are stored. This was usually a fairly private place since no one really liked to remember just how dangerous this job was. Red would know, her first love and boyfriend had his own hologram down here. You had offered to meet in a different place for her sake but she insisted that Jay would have wanted us to meet where we had always met. Jason was your friend too but it was hard to see your friend be so torn up over his death.

“Didn’t you have a crush on him?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“When we were kids sure but I’d never be with him now. Not in a million years. I have standards Red, standards that include not being the most infuriating person to walk on Earth.” You swore.

“It sounds like to me you’re just frustrated that he won’t roll over and give you whatever you want at the drop of the hat.” She shrugged.

“I’m angry that he won’t let me work on the case that I’ve been working on for a year!” You cried. You worked yourself to the bone to get to where you were in the case and to have him step in and just hand it over to another team member to finish, it pissed you off more than anything.

“Have you ever thought that maybe he’s just trying to protect you?” She offered.

“Seriously? You’re taking his side?” You asked incredulously. How could your best friend defend this jerk? Wasn’t she supposed to take your side on this instead of making excuses for Dick?

“No I’m just saying that maybe you’re misreading the situation.” She shrugged. You scoffed at the notion.

“I’m not –“ You started to say before you were cut off by a blaring alarm warning the presence of an intruder. You and your friend immediately dropped the conversation and sprinted toward where the alert was coming from. A whirl of yellow sped past you just as you were about to enter the briefing room.

“Shit!” You swore, turning around to follow the speedster intruder. The yellow blur turned around and ran straight back towards you. Expecting it to run straight into you, you braced yourself for what you knew would be a painful impact but instead you were surprised to find that the young speedster wrapped you up in a tight hug.

“Hey Mrs. Grayson! Long time no see! Ha! How are the kids?” He asked, his words coming out only just slow enough to recognize what he was saying. He glanced around your body and saw something that made his eyes widen. “Welp gotta go now! See you later Mrs. G!” He waved before racing away.

“Why didn’t you take him out?” Dick shouted jogging up to you.

“I was going to but then he … hugged me.” You said still trying to grapple with what had just happened. You were so many levels of confused.

“Well what’s your excuse?” He snapped turning to look accusingly at Red. She shrugged and didn’t offer him an answer. Dick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for this right now. Just … spread out and try to corner him alright?” He said before running back in the opposite direction of where the speedster was heading.

“Something you want to tell me Mrs. Grayson?” Red leaned over and asked you, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. You put your hand over her face and turned her grinning face away from you.

“No.”


It took a while but eventually the team was able to apprehend the mysterious speedster. It didn’t take much before he confessed that he was the Flash’s grandson from the future. He certainly had the proof to back up his claims.

If he was from the future that made wonder about what he had said to you when you first ran into each other.

“So … Bart was it? You’re from the future?” You asked sitting next the the young boy in the kitchen. He had been rifling for food in the fridge and eventually made himself a gargantuan sandwich filled to the brim with the oddest ingredients.

“Yes ma’am.” He answered taking a wide bite out the sandwich.

“Can I ask you something? About the future?” You asked hesitantly.

“I make no promises.” He responded.

“Understood.” You nodded. “You said something when we first met. You called me Mrs. Grayson. You want to tell me why?” You asked the seemingly simple question.

“It’s your name isn’t it? You are married to Nightwing right?” He asked. Your eyes widened and you heard Red start to cackle hysterically from the living room.

Noooooo.” You corrected immediately.

“Whoops. My bad. Forget I said anything then.” He said.

“Hold up. Am I married to him in the future?” You asked.

“I really should talk about –“ He started to argue but you cut him off before he could finish.

“Tell me!” You insisted firmly.

“Well I guess I’ve already said this much.” He sighed. “Yeah. You guys are the most disgustingly in love couple that I’ve ever met. Well you and the Todd’s really. Speaking of which where is Jason?” He said.

“Dead.” You answered simply. Suddenly Red’s laughing ceased.

“Oh. History never was my best subject.” He laughed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look kid, you’re nice and you clearly come from a future but are you sure you’re from this universe’s future. Nightwing and I … we aren’t even friends. I’m sorry but I highly doubt I’d ever marry him.”

“Look Mrs. G,”

“Please don’t call me that.” You insisted.

“I only know what I know.” He continued without hesitation. “One of your grandkids is a good friend of mine.”

“Oh god. I think I’m going to be sick.” You groaned.


“Thanks again Commissioner Gordon. This intel is really going to help.” Dick thanked the older man, holding up the flash drive that was just given to him.

“Anytime, son. It’s the least I can do after all these years of service that you and the Bat have given this city.” Gordon responded.

“It’s all in a day’s work Commish.” Nightwing smiled.

“Are you alright kid? You seem a little off tonight.” Gordon asked. He had known Robin, Nightwing, whatever name he goes by for years but the young man didn’t seem as chipper as he usually was.

“Just girl problems. Nothing too worrying, I assure you.” Dick brushed off. He had to admit that you had been on his mind a lot lately. He hated how antagonist your relationship with him had become. He had been such good friends with you when you were both just kids and now … well you two were lucky if you walked away from a conversation without being at each other’s throats.

“Oh?” Gordon questioned. “It’s that girl that bring along sometimes isn’t it? The one that you bicker with? It’s funny, you two remind me of a couple that came into the precinct back when I was still just a detective. They came from rival circus families and boy did they act like it. They bickered the entire time I was watching over them but not long after the family feud is patched up and these two come back in engaged and utterly lovesick. They offered to name their first born after me, you know.” Gordon reminisced one of the oddest cases he had ever been assigned. Unfortunately the young circus couple famously died after their trapeze line was tampered with, leaving their young son orphaned.

“I’m pretty sure this girl hates me. She’s made that pretty clear.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, Nightwing. Give it time.” Gordon encouraged. Dick chuckled and shook his head at the idea that you could ever grow to have feelings other than annoyance for him

“I hope you’re as good at giving relationship advice as you are at your job.” Nightwing joked.

“I’m old, Nightwing. I think I know a thing or two.” He argued.

“If you’re right, I’ll be sure to send you a wedding invitation.” Nightwing said lightheartedly, not really thinking that your relationship would ever get to that level. It just seemed so far off considering where the two of you were now. Gordon though, he had seen stranger couples develop. He believed wholeheartedly that these kids would eventually come to find kindred souls in one another.

“I expect nothing less.”

Take a Chance

The gifset of Dean giving himself that little pep talk from 7x04 inspired me to write this. Dean x Reader, Dean’s POV. Hope you like :)

For fuck’s sake, Dean, you’ve done this a thousand times. You can charm a woman without even breaking a sweat. Why are you so damn nervous?

Because, dumbass, it’s Y/N. This time it’s not some random bar chick that I’ll probably never lay eyes on again. And I don’t want to mess things up. I don’t want to do something that’ll make everything all awkward.

I just want… I just want to be with her. Whatever that means. And I don’t even know how to say that without making things all fucking weird.

Just tell her the truth. Well, the surface truth. Say you’re bored. Take a chance.

She doesn’t need to know you hate being in a separate room from her, that you miss being around her. That you feel not all there when she’s not around, like a piece is missing. That you’re dying to touch her. Like really touch her.

Okay. Here’s her door. Just heard a noise, so you know she’s awake. So knock already.

Keep reading

Can we talk about American Gods, though?

The main character is a Black man, who is never pointedly aggressive and scary like most media stereotypes Black men to be. Shadow is very intelligent, quietly so, doesn’t like needless violence, loves way too much for his own good and has gone through the sea of gods without dying hard. He is everything that the media teaches us Black men are not.

Many of the gods are Black, as they should be. Bilquis is literally a goddess who has confidence, quiet strength, resilience and goals. She is undeniably sad and not pleased with how gains worship now. Anubis was so comforting, kind and straightforward; he carries no judgment for people he shepherds, saving that for the scales. He rewards those who try their best and Bast keeps the worthy safe.

The djinn was perfect; you felt his sadness, loneliness and desire to reach out for any connection. The passion he felt for Salim was electric and sweet. I don’t remember the last time gay sex on TV has ever been treated with such kindness without skimping on the details. And to add to that, it was a sex scene between two Middle Eastern men without shame.

And all the cinematography! So. Pretty.

✰ * º ❛   that 70′s show sentence starters   ❜

‘  you know what your problem is? i’m too good looking.  ’
‘  god, what did you have for breakfast this morning? carnation instant bitch?  ’
‘  oh, is this what we’re gonna do today, we’re gonna fight?  ’
‘  because you’re breaking up the band, yoko!  ’
‘  an apple? where’s my candy, you son of a bitch.  ’
‘  she told me she loves me and then i told her i loved cake…  ’
‘  how’d you’d like to own a little bit of my foot in your ass?  ’
‘  look, if i could run across the beach into my own arms, i would.  ’
‘  you know he never liked phones. he said he could hear voices in ‘em.  ’
‘  when my time comes, i wanna be buried facedown so that anyone who doesn’t like me can kiss my ass.  ’
‘  you know what your problem is? you’re really cute… so no one ever told you to shut your pie hole.  ’
‘  god, we are such the… perfect couple?  ’
‘  you’re cold? well damn, i can’t control the weather!  ’
‘  the gym, or as i like to call it, the institute of things i can’t do.  ’
‘  well, i’d like to help but… not as much as i’d like not to.  ’
‘  don’t put me in your fantasies. i don’t even like being in your real life.  ’
‘  i don’t like people. i like rock n’ roll, sex, and pizza – in that order.  ’
‘  i’m not loving anybody that i’m not legally required to.  ’
‘  and if somebody doesn’t tell me i’m cute in the next five minutes, i’m gonna scream!  ’
‘  don’t hate me because i’m beautiful.  ’
‘  i can’t count on much in this crazy world, but i can always count on you.  ’
‘  i’m going to go out, meet some boys and crush their hearts one by one.  ’
‘  where zen ends, ass kicking begins.  ’
‘  you guys are fighting like cats and whores.  ’
‘  cake is good, but you cannot have sex with cake.  ’
‘  well, my head says no, but my heart says no.  ’
‘  the three true branches of the government are military, corporate, and hollywood.  ’
‘  hey man, if you don’t get caught, everything’s legal.  ’
‘  yeah, but god didn’t see that. i was in my van, and he can’t see through lead.  ’
‘  college is for ugly girls who can’t get modeling contracts.  ’
‘  college is for women who don’t want to marry the first idiot they meet and squeeze out his bastard moron children.  ’
‘  i was never happy. i was just less pissed off.  ’
‘  sometimes when i’m alone, i just love to cuddle.  ’
‘  i have a definite opinion on this… i don’t care.  ’
‘  when he’s unhappy, i know our relationship is in good shape.  ’
‘  all right, sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs put their foot in your ass.  ’
‘  that’s your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.  ’
‘  we have some breaking news: i’m toasted.  ’
‘  but i don’t want to go outside. there are people out there.  ’
‘  oh, please. i’m a hot-looking, smooth-talking, frisky-assed son of a bitch.  ’
‘  no, i’m not pouting. that would upset our routine. god knows i wouldn’t want to move in a new direction and accidentally slip in a puddle of fun or anything.  ’
‘  i’ve just decided being sad is a waste of my time.  ’
‘  he called me ugly on the inside and the outside. i’m sorry, but he’s just wrong about the outside part.  ’
‘  i don’t really cook much. i just plan on getting by on my looks.  ’
‘  no, no, no, you just don’t move on from me. i’m like alcohol. you need a twelve-step program to break my smell.  ’
‘  you know, being here under the stars, sitting on the grass makes me really glad i’m not poor.  ’
‘  the person i love the most is me!  ’
‘  i was voted most popular, best legs, and now godmother? what can’t i do?  ’
‘  why am i alone and all of you less attractive people are happy?  ’
‘  it’s better to have loved and loss than to be butt ugly.  ’
‘  okay, i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: everyone loves me.  ’
‘  why get out of bed when you can read about people who got out of bed?  ’
‘  i got a lot of free time. i mainly use it to nap and cry.  ’
‘  i’ll just curl up in the fetal position and think about pancakes.  ’
‘  have you been in bed all day?  ’
‘  last night i only slept like… nine hours.  ’
‘  i pity you because you’re dumb.  ’
‘  responsible people don’t go around getting their nipples twisted.  ’
‘  they want to kill rock n’ roll because they know it makes us horny, man.  ’
‘  i would love car sex… or just sex… or just a car.  ’
‘  no, i don’t feel bad. i don’t feel anything.  ’
‘  man, think about it. we hold information that could crush the very heart and soul of one of our best friends… i live for days like this!  ’
‘  it’s like we’re too old to trick or treat and too young to die.  ’
‘  talking isn’t gonna help me, okay? what’s gonna help me is, like, drinking.  ’
‘  hey, yeah, that’s the worst idea i’ve ever heard!  ’
‘  i wish i was an octopus.  ’
‘  thanks, but i’ve gotta go to sleep because i have a big day of misery ahead of me.  ’
‘  life is too short to spend it with people who annoy you.  ’
‘  well, for your information, i’m already sorry i was ever born.  ’
‘  i don’t have a hickey. i was using a curling iron.  ’
‘  give me a reason why i shouldn’t set you on fire.  ’
‘  i’m a hottie, you’re a nottie.  ’
‘  prison is not an option for me, okay? i can’t pee in front of other people.  ’
‘  man, time really flies when you take two naps a day.  ’
‘  oh, no. now i have to act normal.  ’
‘  oh, i just remembered i can’t loan it to you on account of i hate you.  ’
‘  i’ve been diagnosed with a disease that makes me irresistible to women.  ’
‘  you know what the best thing god ever did was? boobs.  ’
‘  i’m like ketchup. i go good on everything!  ’
‘  when we were about to fool around and i said that i washed my hands, but i really just got done playing with like six dogs.  ’
‘  there’s a rabbit stuck in a tree and i want to return that rabbit to the wild so it can lay its eggs.  ’
‘  if this is about maturity then i want nothing to do with it.  ’
‘  a wedding without a trampoline? that’s crazy talk.  ’
‘  i don’t wanna blink ‘cause i’m afraid to miss even a second of your cuteness.  ’
‘  you seem normal around your family, but out in the real world, you’re kinda nuts.  ’
‘  i could get arrested. i could go to girl prison. this freakin’ rocks!  ’
‘  my parents are fighting all the time and they want me to choose sides, but i can’t because they’re both idiots.  ’
‘  why would sally sell seashells down by the seashore? i mean, that’s a terrible location for a seashell stand.  ’
‘  i’m not strong, but i know a lot of ways to destroy men emotionally.  ’
‘  i don’t have feelings for him. i just hate that bitch for making him happy.  ’
‘  i’m not jealous, i just want to pop that inflatable bitch and watch her fly around the room.  ’
‘  hello, it is me, the object of your desire.  ’
‘  i’m a beautiful girl with a shrill, demanding voice. i’m pretty hard to ignore.  ’
‘  a gold digger is what these idiots call a woman who knows that love eventually wears off, but money is forever.  ’
‘  you see, a more productive use of my time is revenge.  ’
‘  i cannot be held responsible for the things that come out of my mouth.  ’
‘  i don’t answer stupid questions.  ’

caito8o  asked:

How do you bring people to God without telling them that they are going to hell? Or "shoving my religion down their throat?" And how do you deal with people that tried Jesus and still don't believe? I have issues with the way my church discuss these topics so I was wondering if you could bring some clarity. Thank you so much for your help!

Hey dear friend, I speak all this with absolute grace and love for you, and I’d like to go one further.

Hell is not a motivation for faith—but neither is heaven. If a punishment or a prize are the motivations for someone’s journey, then my assumption is that person hasn’t thought very far about why they’re on this journey at all. I’m reminded of that quote from True Detective:  “If the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then brother, that person is a piece of s__.”

If my goal is to “bring people to God,” that actually won’t work either, because we shouldn’t be trying to make it work. I don’t mean to assume your motives, but evangelism isn’t a score-card where we win people by attendance. No one is a project or a charity case. Christians might not think we do this, but it happens in all kinds of unseen ways: we attract people until they’re baptized, and then the pastor stops talking to them. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. God can only naturally flow out of who we are and how we interact with others. God flows from my art, my expression, my patience, my generosity, and what I do with my free time. It’s not primarily a conscious goal to say, “See, this is God!” It was C.S. Lewis who said we can’t try to make good art, but that we make art and it might turn out good. It’s the same way with expressing God to others: it happens or it doesn’t. 

I’m not sure there’s a way to “deal with” people who “tried Jesus and still don’t believe.” That was their choice. There’s no magical formula for this. My guess is that they don’t have ears to hear right now, or that they didn’t get the whole picture, and we each can only be faithful to an accurate picture of who God is (again, without forcing it or keeping score). And what if they did hear everything and still don’t believe? Would even more information suddenly wake them up? No. Only God can do that. I believe God can, and does. I must be faithful in how God is working through me, just as I believe God is faithful in how He is working through them.

People have their personal objections to God and Christianity, and they should be taken seriously. No lecture or lesson is going to break through that, and if it did, then it only takes another lecture or lesson to “un-persuade” someone out of their so-called faith. 

I don’t mean to sound abrasive and I’m sorry that this comes off rather abrupt. I think it’s been way too indoctrinated in us to make “Christian evangelism” into some kind of program, so that we use really strange language to talk about “dealing with people” or “bringing them to God.” These paradigms are hurtful and presume Western methods of transferring information, rather than a holistic, natural, relational interaction between the uniqueness of real, living people. Yes, I do tell people very plainly about Jesus, and at the same time, there are all the things I’m not saying which are just as important, if not more, and simply being available and asking questions and letting others know that I’m ready to talk, any time, and more crucially, ready to listen. 

— J.S.

Dear sir,

I am sorry I never sent you my letter.

I meant to. I had it all written out and everything, but I balked. Even an ocean away I was too shy.

I thought I had more time. I spend most of my life with the panicked feeling that I do not have enough time, that some invisible timer is forever counting down and I cannot keep up, but that time I thought otherwise, and I was wrong.

Not that there was anything especially interesting in that letter; nothing, I am sure, that you hadn’t heard many times before. You meant a lot to me. You meant a lot to a lot of people.

You helped me come to grips with the world. Not that you explained everything about it, because no one could, but you made it seem like the kind of place that could be explained. Maybe better than that, you made it alright to not understand some things, made it less frightening to not be able to figure everything out.

Reading your books made something that had been frantic and upset in me for a long time calm down and retreat to a manageable distance.

I have carried them with me as totems in frightening places. Often simply having one nearby made me feel better. They all have stories: this one given by a friend, this one bought in the middle of that camping trip, this one sent in the mail from Finland. They are battered and cracked and sometimes stained and they are every one of them exceedingly good friends.

They have always been easy to read. I don’t mean that in the sense that they are simplistic or not challenging or anything like that. What I mean to say is that even when I am feeling my worst, when so many things that should not be hard are hard, reading your books is easy. It is a difficult thing to explain but it is an important thing.

But there are books of yours that I have not read, because I am not yet ready to face the fact that there are now and forever a finite amount of them. That someday there will be no more new journeys with you.

Dear sir, you have inspired me as a writer, but more than that, you have helped me be strong enough and well enough to write at all. To be curious and enthusiastic about the world instead of afraid of it. To challenge what is abhorrent without losing tolerance for the flaws inherent in us all. You have helped me shape beliefs strong enough that I can hold onto them even when the malfunctioning parts of my brain are clamoring to assure me otherwise.

I wish desperately that you were still here; the world seems to grow more confusing and terrible by the day. Good god, but we need you now more than ever. What a crime beyond measure, to take you so soon.

Dear sir, I am sorry I never sent you my letter, but if I am at all able I intend to make it up to you by using the gifts you gave me.

Yours sincerely,

a reader.

Ok but Spike totally wears eyeliner

How does he put it on when he can’t see his reflection? Somebody else does it. Mostly Angel. “wake the fuck up old man you gotta put my face on” “it’s 3 am” but Angel’s been doing it for years so he’s the go to

Fred used to do it lots too and sometimes she’d wing it and Spike thought it was the best thing ever “now this. this is art” but Illyria doesn’t do it cause she can’t seem to hold the thing without breaking it and that shit’s expensive ok

Gunn tried once. It was a disaster. They don’t talk about it. Lorne has it on video.

Lorne is a fucking God of makeup ok but Spike won’t go to him cause then Lorne’s gonna bring out all the makeup and Spike just wants his eyeliner ok he doesn’t need- wait what’s that brush do

Wesley hates doing it but he’s actually good at it and nobody can figure out why. Turns out Wes had a goth phase. Running from your goth phase is a race you’ll never win Wes. You’ll always be one with the eyeliner.

hmslusitania  asked:

If you're not too terribly busy, the world could always use more Holsom fluff :)

Holsom fluff, my favorite! I combined this with a secondary request from @zombizombi for some ref!Holster, which I could not resist, because Holster+bitching speaks to my soul. Also, team dentist!Ransom, because it amused me. (Warning: mention of teeth.)

(Now also on AO3.)


Ransom landed in his seat barely five minutes before the game was supposed to start. Lardo, feet propped up against the glass, sketchbook against her knees, fingertips just peeking out of the sleeves of yet another sweatshirt stolen from Shitty, spared him a glance and a “You’re late” before going back to sketching warm-ups.

“I know, I know. Kid broke off two of her teeth on the playground, right up to the nerve, so I had to do some composites.”

She grimaced. “Ugh.”

“Why do you ask me these things when you know I’m going to talk to you about teeth? I’m a dentist, for fuck’s sake. And we’re here to watch hockey.”

“I’m in it for the butts.”

He grinned as he took in the player stretching on the ice in front of her and then her sketchbook. “Think Shits will like that one?”

“I call it ‘Spread,’” she said loftily.

He choked and was suddenly glad he hadn’t had time to stop by concessions on his way in. “So, uh, where is Shits tonight anyway?”

She waved a hand vaguely, barely missing whacking him in the face with the end of the sleeve. “Up in the office. They needed some documents looked over.”

He recognized that tone. “How long have you guys been here?”

Hours.”

“Couldn’t get anyone to strip for you?”

“Shut up.” Then she turned to him and smiled slowly.

Ransom was immediately alarmed. “Oh god. What?”

“There is some news you’ll want.”

“Yeah?” he asked cautiously.

“New ref.”

Ransom’s eyebrows went up. “And I’m interested in this… because why? I mean, is he supposed to be good or biased or something else?”

“Tall. He’s supposed to be very tall. You’ll see.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can we talj about dan saying "its not our forever home its just temporary" like he totally plans on finding a forever home WITH phil because without phil it wouldnt be a home im emo

god im still thinking about how dan and phil literally solidified the fact that they’re gonna eventually be living in house together for the rest of their lives.. a future without each other is so fucking foreign to them and its hard for me to imagine the possibility of them even being able to entertain the idea of living separately. dan and phil are real good friends with subtlety, but yesterdays video? the way that they announced to the whole world that they would be moving together without even having to address it directly? the way that it was just treated as an unspoken rule? that video was coming out.. and it couldnt have been more dan and phil esque

more fat yuuri headcanons

headcanons? more like Projection^TM

  • so like. after a while you kinda start to accept the flabs on your arms and your thicc thighs and tummy/muffin top?
    • your body kinda becomes its own stress toy. it’s hella fun to grab ur arm flabs or just kinda wiggle the fat in ur butt or s/t
      • when yuuri has anxiety or needs something to stim he sometimes would go to his love handles bc there’s so much to grab
    • ALSO DRUMMING UR THICK THIGHS AND TUMMY LMAO… like when ur listening to music u cant help but drum along on ur tummy or thighs and then watch the jiggle it’s hella fun
      • (sometimes victor drums on yuuri’s booty when he’s distracted)
  • the thing about being fat is that hugs are like 10x better bc ur squishy. ppl love to get a chance to hug yuuri bc he literally gives the best hugs
    • yuuri has an irrational fear that he might squeeze the other hugger too hard but that’s 
  • sometimes skinnier ppl or ppl with flat stomachs just doesnt understand? yuuri finds a lot of comfort in ppl like his parents or takeshi and talks about the ups and downs of being fat
    • like. shopping for clothes? lmao god what an exhausting experience
    • or even just being able to indulge in food without judgement from other people. i mean u saw the first episode… his parents were so ready to cook him 2482374 bowls of katsudon like theres literally no judgement at all
      • (i guess maybe takeshi is an exception but i think that’s mostly bc he was helping yuuri get to a good weight before the grand prix)
  • i mean we can go into detail about the cons of being fat (like spending long hours in front of the mirror examining your fat and sucking in your stomach and hating urself for not having the skinny stomach that everyone loves) but there’s a lot of fatphobia that goes around and i’d rather keep it positive
  • either way, yuuri katsuki loves his fat and he canonically goes chubby off season dont take this away from me thanks
Homesick

Author: @dylan-trash-tbh and @golddaggers

Pairing: Dylan O’brien x Reader

Words: 1829

A/N: So, I wrote this a week ago and I absolutely hated it. I was about to delete it, honestly .. But my lovely Piggie @golddaggers saved my ass and turned shit into gold. THANK YOU (also for always keeping me company while I’m working the night shift) ! I love you so much 🐷💖🇩🇪🇧🇷 


MASTERLIST

Originally posted by welcometohellsxx

Keep reading

The Punch. // Chris Evans Imagine

summary: Some people fall in love the moment they meet each other’s eyes. Some fall in love when they least expect it. But for you and Chris, you had literally fallen in love with this man. 

word count: 1000+

warnings: angsty(ish), accidental violence, fluff 

“Y/N, I want to see anger, please! Your mad, frustrated. Give him everything! Chris, I know you don’t want to but push it, push her, fight her. She’s betrayed you. Let’s roll, don’t stop till I say, alright? GO!” 

I threw the first punch, letting the sound of my fist fill the stadium’s hollow walls. He took a swift blow to my stomach to which I went with a 360 hit on the side. We both knew our next moves, we’ve rehearsed this for two weeks. I knew his next move was a punch to the face that sent me to the ground, to which I blew him away. I just didn’t know that the punch was actually going to take place. I must’ve moved, that must’ve been the case. No other reason could explain the punch but it hurt like a son of a bitch. 

Chris had moved out, getting himself out of my attack and then stepped back, taking one brief second before taking the swing, which sent me to the ground, in literal tears. He knew, the moment his knuckles hit my cheek that he had accidentally made contact with my face. “YN!” I thought I heard Anthony yell cut far off in the distance, but everything sounded so fuzzy. I felt Chris’ hand on my own that covered my face and I heard someone screaming for a bus, but couldn’t make sense of the term in the moment.

 “YN, baby, please look up. YN, oh god, oh god what have I done? Fuck! YN, please baby.” I used all my strength and mental compacity to make my body move around just a little so Chris would know I was still alive, just very stunned. 

“BACK UP! FUCKIN’ BACK UP!” I slowly opened my already swollen eye and was greeted to my boyfriend, in tears. 

“Chris? Chris? W-w-what. What’s going on?” I started to panic with the look on his face, he looked so..scared. What was so scary about my face?  

“Chris?” It didn’t make sense. Why are people were touching me? Grabbing at me? Crowding around asking me weird questions?

“YN, oh my god. I’m so sorry, I-I-I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so s-s-sorry.” I gave him a gentle smile but quickly had my attention diverted to our security guard coming up with the Emergency Care men. 

“Ok, YN can you get up? We’re gonna have you go get checked out at the hospital, okay? Can you get up?” I muttered a yes and with the help of Sebastian and Mackie, I got to my feet, wobbling slightly.  

“Miss, do you know what happened?” I nodded, looking around the room, getting used my surroundings that I had suddenly forgotten were there,“Yeah, yeah. I’m just… dazed almost. Sorry. Um, I’m fine! It’s all good, thank you, everyone.” 

I looked down and saw him standing next to a pool of blood, hands burrowed in his hair, tears dripping down his nose. I saw one of the producers kneeling down next to Chris, trying to calm him down. Walking over, I held my empty hand out to him, and he looked up slowly. Tears on his face falling like a river stream. 

“Chris. Sweetheart,” My heart fell at the sight of the sorrow in those eyes that were as blue as a cloudless June sky. His watery eyes move to meet mine. His eyes held a harsh red, burning hatred for himself. 

“Common, let’s go get me checked out, huh?” He sniffled, nodded softly while getting to his feet. Gripping my hand, he walked me out to the bus. Chris took a cloth I’d been handed and wiped off some of the blood that was creating a red stained river down my lips, chin, and neck.

“I still hate myself, ya know?” I sighed and looked up at Chris. I saw his face distorted in a wallowing self-anger and regret. “Well I don’t, and neither should you. I moved, it’s my fault anyway!” 

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the tears in. 

“No. No, it’s fuckin’ not. Because I’m supposed to take care of you, and what did I do? Cause you severe pain! Like god damn it, come on! I should’ve backed up! The fact that I caused you pain…it kills me.” 

I smiled at his words and scooted over on the couch, patting a spot for him to take next to me. Taking his hands, I pulled them onto my lap, putting my own on top of them, as if I was keeping them from leaving. 

“Christopher Robert Evans, you look at me right now.” Slowly but surely he pulled up his foggy eyes. “I know that you think this is your fault, and maybe it is but the fact that you are killing yourself over it makes you the best man in the world. You are the sweetest, kindest, most loving man I know. You make my day instantly better when I can see you smile, see you happy. You love without conditions and that’s why… I am in love with you.” Chris’s eyes froze, and I panicked. Oh no, it’s too soon.

It’s too soon, he doesn’t lo- “Thank god. Because I’ve been fuckin’ in love with you since the day we met.” I felt the biggest smile spread on my face and tears fall down my cheeks from my misty eyes. “G-good.” 

I couldn’t control the sob that fell from my lips and the kiss that landed on his. Chris deepened the kiss and let his hands move to my hips, pulling me onto his lap. I fit into his stature perfectly. 

His lips moved with mine and pulled me into him like an ocean’s current. Letting me go just a little, only to pull me back towards him with a stronger force. I needed oxygen by now so I pulled out. 

Breathless, my voice came out as a whisper. “Do you forgive yourself now?” 

He smiled and nodded, “Only because I’ve just confessed my biggest secret to you.”


wanderlust (teaser)

my exams are getting in the way of me writing this, so i thought i’d share a teaser! 

jungkook x reader | pilot!au x reader!cbp (customs & border protection) agent

genre: fluff, angst (for like 5 seconds), smut  

For those who don’t know what a ‘customs & border protection agent’ is, they’re the person that interrogate what your purpose of visit to a country is & stamp your passport to let you into the country. 

For those who don’t already know this a work of complete fiction.


“Next,” I called for what seemed like the billionth time of the day. I had only started working three hours ago but it still felt way too long. Working at an airport was draining. The worst part is that most passengers don’t understand that as a customs and border protection agent I had to see at least 500 people a day and be alert throughout my questioning to catch lies woven into well-rehearsed stories. Today, however, I had lucked out and been given the simple assignment of speaking to exclusively the crew from various airlines. This was the most relaxing posting as the crew did not ask senseless questions, had no other purpose to visit the country except for work. They simply wanted to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible to get away from the passengers they had spent hours caring after.  

I furrowed my brows as an unfamiliar but animated voices fell upon my ears. I glanced towards the origin of the voices and the elegant light blue and white uniforms of the Korean Air crew glided towards my counter. My eyes gazed upon the flawlessness of their physical appearing commending their graceful strides regardless of the 6-inch heels each flight attendant wore. I could barely walk in 2-inch heels. Glancing towards my coworkers, I couldn’t help but notice the lust taking over their features as they gazed at the flight attendants, eager to assist the females in possibly anything they asked of.

This scenario played out everyday and even though I was the agent that cleared the crew, the other agents would ‘help out’ anyway. I pursed my lips as the flight attendants part ways to let the pilots come to my counter first. I supposed this was a sign of respect for their authority or for their age. As I processed the three elderly pilots I noticed one of the pilots stand back and let the flight attendants be cleared first. He stood at the back watching the interaction between the customs agents and the flight attendants with an unnerving gaze, scrutinizing for any disrespectfulness towards his crew members. I felt a chill run down my spine as his gaze settled on me. However, the iciness melted away immediately as his orbs met mine. His mouth tipped into a small smile as he strode towards me and took off his peaked cap.

“Good morning ma’am,” He said, standing expressionless for me to compare his passport picture to his face. I couldn’t help but bite my lip at his young face in the picture. 1997-09-01… he’s younger than me and he’s already a pilot?! As I scanned his passport, I noticed his expression relax and his mouth tipping into his small smile again.

 “Is this your first time coming to Canada?” I asked, weakly attempting hide the amusement from my voice.

“No ma’am, why do you ask?” He asked, tilted his head in confusion.

“Because you’re very polite to a customs agent for this to not have been your first time.” I joked, biting my lip as I scribbled on his customs form. He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.

“No, I’ve been here many times. Toronto, Calgary, Vancouver and Ottawa. How could I possibly not be polite to a beautiful agent such as yourself.” He said, shaking his head, his baby smile had matured into a dazzling grin. I laughed at his compliment.

“It’s the bulletproof vest, it really brings out my femininity.” I teased, extending my arm to return his documents to him. The young pilot reached forward and grasped my hand instead of his passport and observed my features, examining my reaction.

“I’m quite positive you look impressive even without the bulletproof vest, it certainly would bring out some admirable attributes.” The pilot said, his hand released my hand and grasped his documents.

Oh my god, that is the nicest way any man has ever told me that he wants to look at my breasts.

 “I don’t know about impressive, but I can look pretty decent in a dress.” I replied causing his head to tilt again, his eyes narrowing as if he was imagining it as we spoke.

“Impressive,” he said, affirming his previous statement. I mentally shook myself as my cheeks flushed at his charisma. 

“Have a good day,” I said distantly, releasing his documents. His mouth curved into a delicious smirk as he placed his peaked cap back on his head.

“It would be a better day if I got to spend it with you,” he mused, gathering his documents and placing them in his carry-on.

“Shame, I’ll be here all day.” I responded shaking my head at his bold attempt to seek my company.

“Till what time exactly?” He asked, adjust his already perfect suit in a weak endeavor to delay his departure. 

“Around four pm.” I said, my fingers laced together on the desk as I pursed my lips. An emotionless expression spread across my face as he grinned at me. I struggled to keep my expression professional as he nodded at me.

“It really is a shame,” he subtly winked at me as he disappeared through the exit.


thoughts? 

Originally posted by sugutie

anonymous asked:

Voyeurism, specifically Beka creeping on Yuri somehow. Shower, changing, bedroom idk. Just Beka pining hard and taking things too far and maybe getting caught.

infatuation

He liked to watch. He liked watching dancers from his DJ booth, watching competition from the bench, watching Yuri Plisetsky on Instagram. Watching Yuri Plisetsky on YouTube. Watching for Yuri Plisetsky on anything with his name that popped up on Google alerts.

He had spent his life, for the last six years, like this. He was tethered to his laptop when he wasn’t on the ice, dreaming of the day that he would see him in person again, finally see him again, face to face. Oh, god, what would he even say?

“You should tell him you’re an obsessed stalker.”

Otabek didn’t appreciate Jean’s humor. He had rolled off the mattress and fell back into his own bed, immediately checking his alerts - and found two new Instagram posts. “Thank you, Jean.”

He was up, he was next to Otabek’s bed, and Otabek was suddenly wishing he had picked up his phone, instead. “Wow, a new tshirt in Japan. What is he, fifteen?” Otabek gave him the middle finger. “Heard he’s going into Seniors this year. Awfully young, don’t you think?”

“You’re not subtle.” Apparently he was in Japan now. (Why Japan?)

Jean squeezed his shoulder. “And you’ve got a problem.” Otabek pushed his hand away. “Fifteen, Beks. He’s a kid.”

[MORE] ++

He agreed to be his friend. He agreed, he shook his hand, and that was that. He couldn’t stop smiling and suddenly Otabek didn’t even care about getting gold because he was staring into those blue green eyes. Couldn’t stop drowning in the lilt of his voice. Couldn’t stop wallowing in the air of his presence. It was enough just to exist around him. God, he was so beautiful. More beautiful in person because he could smell the Chanel and and feel the pressure of his gaze like a weight. This strong, beautiful creature - Otabek didn’t even know what to say in that cafe. Apparently he didn’t have to say much of anything. He could just listen. And watch.

Otabek watched him as they strolled out of the cafe, watched the way he tilted his head and caught the light in his eyes and smiled. It was perfect. He was perfect, so perfect. He wished he could take a picture.

That night, after he walked him to his hotel, Otabek locked himself in his room and stayed up for hours.

God, that boy really was just so, so…. God…. Otabek groaned as he tapped the keyboard with one hand.

++

“So what’s he like in person?”

“Hello, Jean. How are you? Congratulations on winning gold.” Jean rolled his eyes. “And yeah, he’s remarkably similar to all the videos and photos in your bookmarks. Spitting image.”

Otabek turned in his swivel chair. Jean coughed because he couldn’t get back in Otabek’s face when he was trapped on a Skype screen call, several time zones away. Too bad. Otabek liked containing JJ in a screen. It was like keeping him in a box. A box he could open and close whenever he chose.

“He’s easy to rile up. Sent you some links.”

Yeah, he saw those - mostly third party video of JJ doing some low grade sexual harassment. “Did you have to touch him, Jean?”

“It was a tap on his butt. I thought you’d get off on it.” No. No, he did not. “Anyway. You get my package?”

Otabek was glad all Jean could see was the back of his chair. “Yeah.” He pressed the underwear to his nose and breathed, deep. It smelled musky, sweaty – he was going to have to end this call soon. Very soon.

“You’re welcome.”

Otabek sighed. “I’ll make it up to you.” He turned around and waved a hand around. “I got to go.”

“Whatever you say, buttercup.” Jean smirked. He acted like a fool but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Otabek wished he was, sometimes. It would make things easier.

++

He’s showering in the locker room. He’s showering. He’s wet. He’s naked. Water is dripping off his body like a thousand, thousand lovers’ fingers slipping over his sweet, tight flush skin, and Otabek can’t stop imagining what he tastes like. He wants to be a water drop. He wants to be the water drop that slipped into his open mouth as he turned to face the stream and become a part of him, fuse into his body and become a part of him, forever.

Oh, god! He’s just standing there, half hard with a towel around his hips and Yuri will be able to see him if he turns his head and happens to look. He can’t - no. He can’t see him because seeing Otabek means everything changes. Seeing him means Otabek will not be able to watch. Will not be able to hold his image in his mind and keep him there. Seeing Otabek means he has to give up this moment: Yuri showering in the locker room. It would’ve been his prize video. His favorite. He would’ve put it on his phone. On his cloud account. Backed it up on a CD.

He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to stay. He wants to hit a nonexistent pause button. He wants to go incognito when he’s got no screen. He wants to lurk. To watch. To control this experience.

“Otabek!” Yuri smiles and Otabek can’t help but smile back. “Hey, I don’t mind if you wanna come in. Those other guys are such freaks, you know?”

He nods and he walks in. He turns his back, he takes off his towel, he prays to a god he doesn’t believe in: Please don’t let him see me hard.

“Hey! You want my shampoo? It’s almond. Great stuff. You’ll love it!”

Oh, thank you. Otabek nods and he reaches without turning around and he breathes in the scent. It’s so good. So, so good. It’s perfect. And he’s hard as a rock.

“It’s great, huh?”

“Yeah.” His voice breaks. “It’s fantastic.” He’s so close to him. So close he can turn around and touch him, feel him, taste – “The best.” It was pure hell.

JJ ‘happens’ to pass the stall. “Hey, we share showers with the women’s team?” But there are no accidents. Only opportunities. Jean winks at Otabek as Yuri curses and snarls . Smiles as Otabek pulls at his dick once, twice, and comes while Yuri punches Jean in the gut.

He will have to thank Jean, again.

++

“So, Plisetsky and you…” Jean was waiting to board the 9:30 to New York. Isabella was showing off her ring and Otabek was downing another round of Advil with a mouthful of ionized water. “That was one hell of an Exhibition show.”

“Congratulations on the bronze.” The pills always stuck in his throat if he didn’t have food to chase them down. “Even though you didn’t deserve it.”

“You got what you wanted, though, right?” Jean tilted his head and nodded behind Otabek. At him. “The Ice Tiger of Russia, eating out of the palm of your hand?”

“It - “

“Otabek!” Suddenly Yuri was looping his arm in his and all his words were gone because Yuri took over all his senses, overwhelmed and overrode everything he meant to say as he beamed up at him. “Gimme your Instagram before you go. I’m gonna stalk you!” Jean saluted and turned toward the boarding gate. “Good riddance.” Yuri snorted as he pulled Otabek toward the seats. “Take a selfie with me, first.”

The Brotherhood Without Banjos will be reunited next season! There’s Iain Glen, Jorah Mormont, on guitar. Rory McCann on harmonica and rhythm guitar. Paul Kaye, Thoros of Myr, on guitar. Me on ukulele and guitar. Kit Harington on rattle eggs. You know those eggs you can shake? He was on those. And Joe Dempsie, Gendry, on percussion. A pretty good band. We started doing it right at the beginning of the season, and it was just a brilliant way to relieve the constant exhaustion and cold. We could just go in and keep warm in our little hut. It was a real kind of camaraderie. I recorded about three tunes that we did, and they were pretty good!
The Wounded Heart(M)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
Genre: Angst, Smut

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say about this one! Enjoy!!

-Admin Moon


“Touch me,” I breathed, my eyes on his. “Just… just once, touch me.”

“Y/N,“ He choked​ out. "I… you know I can’t do that. It’s not right. You know I…I…I just can’t.”

“Cause we’re in your office?” I asked. “Because I’m your my best friend and I don’t want you…,” He told me, while I managed to wring my arms around him. My bottom lip shook as I let out a small whine, “But I want you,” I begged. “I want you so bad, Hobi.” I leaned closer to her even though he tried to put some distance between us. I start whispering in his ear. “I dream about you. I think about you. I…” My breath hitches. “I want you. I want you to be the first… I need it to be you. I want everything I know you can give me.”

After last night I knew I wanted to be with him, the man I loved…my bestfriend. He look away but my mouth followed, landing softly on the soft skin behind his ear. He groan out loud as I began making small nibbles on it, making him tighten his grip on my wrists. “Stop this, right now,” He order her, but I just snuggled closer to him, so needy for his attention it hurt. “Y/N, you need to stop.”

“Make me, Hobi” I taunted him, causing him to gather my wrists in one arm and put it behind my back, while the other one went to my neck. When he gripped my throat tightly, my breath caught. “We’re not doing this,” He snarl at me. “You’re my best friend, I don’t want anything to happen to you. Because if you hurt me, your punishment will be worse than theirs were.” My throat contracted as I tried to get oxygen. “You can try and stop me,” she manages to get out. “But you’re the one who’s going to break in the end, Hobi.” I wrestled out of his embrace, but he doesn’t let me get away. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me back. “Stop playing,” He growls at me. “You’re walking on very thin ice.”

I gasp when his fingers touch my hips. He pulls me closer and sits on his desk, and suddenly I’m between his legs. I can feel how fucking hard he is, the thick outline of his cock brushing up against my thighs. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him right now. I need this, I’ve waited for so long for this moment. If only if he would let me. “I’m not playing, Hobi” I manage to whisper. “This is real to me. This, between us, whatever it is. I want you.” He mutters something under his breath, his eyes roaming over my body and leaving goosebumps erupting under my clothes in their wake.

His hands don’t move from my hips even though I want them to, and I know he’s trying to decide what to do with me. “Just let it happen,” I say softly. “Just… fuck me, Hobi…please. We both know it’s going to happen sooner or later.”

“It shouldn’t,“ he mutters quickly. "It shouldn’t fucking happen. You’re messing with my head, Y/N. You’re… You’re too much…” I reach for his lapels to pull him closer, molding my mouth to his in a desperate kiss. I’m trying to make him see how very badly I need this, his mouth touching mine, his tongue slipping inside me and taking me. I kiss him with all the fight I have left in my body, the anger from him denying me all this time, the desperation I felt when we spent the weekend together. I need this, and it’s becoming evident as every cell in my body becomes so involved in the kiss I end up crumpling in his lap.

Hoseok holds me up by my hips and gives me a strained look. “You don’t want this, Y/N,” he warns me. “I’m not gentle, I’m not sweet, I’m not the right guy.” I know all of this, yet I this want him. I crave him. I need him to finally be mine. I look at him, realizing he’s battling himself on the inside. “Please,” I beg him. “Please, I want this so badly. You’re… you’re the one I want to be my first.”

His fingers tighten and bunch up the fabric of my blouse, and he groans when I keep begging in the softest of voices. Just repeating that one word over and over again, please Hobi, fuck me please, I need you please, please take me. He breaks slowly, his resolve weakening but his grip on my clothes tightening. I moan when he pulls me even closer, when my pussy brushes up against his leg, when his dick throbs against my thigh. I can tell how much he’s struggling as he pulls down my skirt and I step out of it, leaving my tights and my shoes on. “Fucking shit, Kitten” he groans, his fingers going to the hem of my blouse.

He undoes them slowly, like he’s trying to change his mind with every button that comes undone. But sooner or later he’s done, and I shrug off the blouse until I’m standing in front of him in my bra. He looks away. “Hobi,” I beg softly. “Look at me, please…” When his eyes meet mine they’re filled with so much pain. He’s afraid I’m going to hurt him, like the bitch who left him for his brother. We’ve been friends for years now, he should know me better than this.

I pull down my tights and step out of them. Now I’m just in a blue lingerie set, it had a lighter blue as the trim, which popped against my skin.

He’s staring at me and I shiver under his touch as his fingers stroke my tummy gently. “I can’t do this,” he groans. “I can’t fucking do this to you, Y/N.” I take his hand and place it on my neck, his fingers trembling as they wrap around my throat. “But I need you to,” I whisper. “Use me, Hobi. Do whatever you want to me. I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me like you think. Let me help you heal.”

He curses under his breath and I see him break. And then everything happens so fucking fast I can barely catch a breath. He gets up from his desk, he takes my wrists behind my back and bends me over the desk. I moan with pure ecstasy as my cheek hits the hardwood of it, and his fingers travel down my spine, making me arch my whole body. He undoes the hook of my bra and pulls it off in one motion, my breast bounce free. But they never hit the desk, because he grabs them and pushes his cock into my ass, making me purr like a needy kitten.

"Do you really want this?” he asks me in a low growl, and I barely manage a nod. “Okay, Kitten. I’ll be gentle as I can, I promise…” His voice is sweet but deep as he strokes my chest. I feel my nipples getting hard under his touch and I almost pass out from the feeling building inside me, so desperate to feel him, more of him, filling me, taking me, ruining me. His fingers leave my breasts and I moan in protest, but gasp the next second when he rips my panties off, just like that. “This ass has been driving me insane for years,” he tells me, stroking me with two fingers. What’s insane is the way he makes me feel with barely any contact.

In moments, I’m begging for more and arching my back so desperately my cheeks blush in embarrassment. I attempt to spread my legs, but he pushes them back together, leaning over me to whisper in my ear. “It’ll be even tighter if you keep them like this,“ he whispers gently in my ear, and I cry out.

He grabs my wrists and holds them behind my back with one hand, his other unbuckling his belt and pulling out his cock. I’m so desperate I’m gasping, low, soft sounds making me beg him for his cock inside me. "I need you,” I cry out. “No more waiting.” I feel embarrassed as hell when I feel the first tear fall, not because I’m hurting or scared, it’s because he’s still not inside me. His finger outlines my soaked pussy and I want to scream, fucking scream for more. “Shh, Kitten,” he says gently, but his voice is strained. And then I feel something probing at my entrance, his cock so hard, the tip silky and round and so fucking big my eyes dilate as I look at him over my shoulder. “Fuck,” I breathe panicked breaths. “I can’t, I’m scared.” He strokes my cheek and I just stare and stare at him, “Do you want me to stop, Kitten?” he asks me gently. “I’ll stop right now; we don’t have to talk about this ever again.”

“No,” I say right away. “I’ll hate you if you do, just push it in, I don’t care if it hurts, just fuck me, Hoseok… Shit!” He pushes inside without waiting for me to stop rambling. He doesn’t go slow, he fills my pussy up and I have to bite my lips to stop myself from crying out, because god, it hurts so much, it hurts so fucking good. I can feel him splitting me open, his cock parting my lips and claiming me with one push, one thrust of his powerful hips. He groans behind me and I close my eyes, more tears leaking out and my lips shaking so bad. “Goodness,” he breathes behind me. “What a tight pussy, Kitten.”

He starts thrusting into me slowly, his cock filling me up and leaving me so damn empty in the next second I just want to scream. I adjust to his size when suddenly, it starts feeling good, so fucking good my nails dig into the wood of the desk. “More,” I beg him. “More Hobi. I need so much more.” He grunts and keeps fucking me, and I keep my legs tightly pressed together, and it’s so much, so much to take I feel like I’m about to pass out.

I let out a long moan and he grabs my hips, pushing inside me with such force my body starts hitting the desk, my hip bones bruising with every one of his thrusts. I feel it building inside me, something unknown, something I don’t completely understand. I feel it happening before it actually does, the pressure building, then finally mercilessly, releasing as my pussy let’s go and I scream his name. “Hoseok, Hoseok!”

“Hold on, Kitten,” he grunts. “Just a little bit longer… Just let me use you up, Kitten.” He goes faster and I go limp in his arms. I feel him so deep inside me, and I love this feeling. I can’t believe this is happening. One of his hands goes to my breasts and he has to practically hold me up to keep fucking me, I’m so far gone. I keep whispering for more and he keeps giving it to me, long, deep thrusts that make me roll my eyes back and hope there’s more to come. “I need to cum,” he growls in my ear, blowing strands of my dark mane out of my face. “Yes, give me what I want.” I squeak out. He grunts and pushes inside me, and I feel his hips shaking as he empties himself inside. “You’re such a good girl, Kitten,” he mutters. “Now stay still now, let me finish inside you.” I collapse in his arms, but Hoseok holds me up until I milk him dry.

I feel him release it all inside me, and still, he won’t let go. I feel him getting softer in my pussy, not rock hard anymore, as he cradles me in his arms. He holds me like a man that’s loved me for a long time. He breathes deep, tired breaths into my back, and finally lifts me off his cock. I gasp when he does it, and then he places me down on his desk, like I’m some kind of expensive decoration for his office. He leans over to me and I stare at him deliriously. His hands grasp my face and he kisses me, the first time he’s done it of his own accord.

His lips are hard, but the kiss isn’t. It’s almost sweet, like I had my old bestfriend back. “Are you okay?” he asks me gently, and I nod. “I know it’s a lot to take.” He takes my hand in his and offers me a bottle of water on his desk. I reach for it with shaky fingers, but can’t get the lid off. He does it for me instead, unscrewing it and giving me the water, pouring it in my mouth. I take slow, long gulps while my eyes rest on his. He smiles at me and then makes a face, and I spurt water all over him when I start to laugh.

This is how things used to be…before his ex tore up his precious heart with her claws. I’m not regretting what happened, it had been a long time coming, though. I saw the signs, but he refused to listen to me. I wipe my mouth and give him an apologetic look, “I’ll let you get back to work. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” I say softly, getting off the desk. “Wait.” He pulls me by my wrist gently, giving me an inquisitive look.

“Why don’t I take a half day and go home with you?”

“You…” I look up at him, “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”

He shakes his head, “Trust me, I won’t. He’s busying doing something…or someone right now.“ Afterwards he pulls me closer. He doesn’t let go of me, just looks into my eyes with an intensity I haven’t seen for awhile. "Can you get dressed?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say softly, and he lets go of me. He zips up his trousers while I put my outfit back on, my cheeks burning like crazy, because I’m not wearing panties under my tights. He tore them into two pieces, and they’re just not salvageable. He pulls me back into his embrace, “Y/N,” he says sternly, one of his hands going to my nape, the other resting on my thigh. “You know you’re mine now, right?” I just stare at him, feeling myself blushing intensely. “Yours?” I repeat. “Yes,” He reaches up to my lips, brushing them with his thumb. Before I really know what I’m doing, I suck his finger into my mouth and he stares at me deeply, letting out a breath when I look up at him with his finger in my mouth. My hands go up and I clutch his wrist. His hold on my neck tightens. “Mine,” he tells me firmly, and a wicked smile lights up his handsome face.

anonymous asked:

Who do you think would be the best at eating someone out ? I wanna hear your opinion on this !

yoongi, taehyung, jimin = the top 3, in my humble opinion.

they’ve all got the tongues for it (length wise and they just can’t keep their goddamn fucking mouths shut like??? we get it?? you want to eat everyone out we KNOW) and, like, yoongi?

  • yoongi could probably just hold his breath and dive in for a good minute, to two minutes, without needing to even come up for air. every single second he had, he’d make count, and god, would you feel it everywhere. his fingers would come into play, too, just to spread you out as far as he can - he’ll spit on you a little, get messy and go slow just when you need him to go faster, because teasing is fun and fucking hot and there’s nothing that satisfies him much more than hearing you beg
  • jimin? jimin seems like he’d absolutely be the arrogant/subservient type, all wrapped up into one? he’d get a massive kick out of making and watching you cum and then having you push his face back down (imagine him moaning into you and panting when you let him come up for air????? just…Imagine……It) - and he’s a bed-grinder, pushes his cock against the bed / sofa / his own hand, whatever’s available; getting messier and more out-of-control as his own pleasure grows
  • taehyung - sweet, playful, even a little silly, until he just isn’t. then he’s pinning you to the bed by your hips, pumping you open with his fingers - slowly, so fucking slowly, watching the way you push yourself against his hand; a mixture of fascination and amusement and the thrill of a power trip in the making. he’ll tease you, have you aching for him, for anything; shaking and saying please and just as you break, he’s between your legs and he’s so eager you almost forget the way he looked at you when you told him you were his, all his, and you’d do anything for him to just use his mouth on you