why the hell did you have to come into my life

anyone else still sometimes catch themselves thinking about how after all those years of idolizing dave strider and after all that time in the void session wondering and anticipating and nervously awaiting this theoretical possibility that he might get the chance to meet him, dirk finally fucking sits down with dave one on one hours from the final battle and like wow fucking surprise motherfucker

he gets to find out his literal worst fears were ACTUALLY true! the version of him that dave knew actually did, in fact, do his level best to ruin dave’s life and was an abusive, toxic influence from day one and throughout to the point where dave can’t even look at him without flinching! 

this coming at a time when dirk is already horrendously low on himself, his relationship with Jake literally just blew up like 3 hours ago and if the AR thing went down even remotely the same way there was also that and holy hell dude what a time to be informed about the existence of Bro Strider. Dirk is sitting there thinking he was a toxic influence to Jake from moment one and probably all of his friends the whole time and here Dave is confirming everything from a parallel perspective? 

you can just see this horrible gut clenching moment when this utterly defeated Dirk just meekly accepts that this other version of himself is reflective of his true innermost self and has justifiably ruined any chance he ever had of impressing or even knowing Dave

– and then you see Dave just immediately lift it off him, even get kinda angry at him for having the audacity to even try accepting it that way, you can FEEL Dave’s fucking confusion because he went in guns blazing expecting a confrontation with someone as impossible and inscrutable as Bro was. Dave went in expecting to punch a brick wall and get nowhere, and instead he got Dirk “you’re absolutely right and I’m so fucking sorry I ruined your life” Strider 

and from Dirk’s pov, listening to this, watching this, having this realization that this dave isn’t an untouchable, aloof, mysterious and mythical heroic figure of legend at all, but that only makes him MORE worthy of idolization in all the ways that genuinely matter – and simultaneously thinking that he’s already sabotaged himself out of the chance to know him at all.

It’s like, god, you know those hyperrealistic nightmares people have sometimes that are so fucking scary because they’re indistinguishable from real life, the ones where after you wake up it takes a long time for the understanding that it was actually just a dream to hit you and then you want to cry with relief? 

For Dirk this had to have been so much like that, the whiplash between being 100% sure that Dave was just going to say what he needed to say and then never speak to him again (and knowing Dirk would have considered it completely justified and never questioned his right to do so jesus christ) followed IMMEDIATELY by Dave just being like no you don’t get it, THIS you, this version of you, what I am looking for deep down in my fucking SOUL is for this you that you are right now to be a person that I can have in my life to tell me that I’m okay, that you’re okay, that WE’RE okay – and after fifteen minutes talking to you I can already immediately tell that you ARE that person. 

Dirk’s friends were always only interested in denying the possibility that Dirk could ever truly become a monster, they could never have possibly understood just how DARK Dirk is at his most self destructive, and that’s part of why their reassurances were always hollow for him – they didn’t GET IT, right, they never could have followed the rabbit hole all the way down, so what did they know? But this guy, Dave Strider, has literally seen Dirk at his worst, has lived through the actual reality of the worst things living inside the full-picture potential of Dirk Strider, has dealt with that to great personal detriment and is fucking STILL sitting here telling him “I can tell that you are different, I can tell that you are better, and I am willing to trust you and help you to become a better person than the guy I knew because at the end of the fucking day, you are too important to me to give up on”

like yeah confronting dirk with all of that was what dave needed absolutely but BEING confronted and ultimately forgiven by dave was what dirk needed too, just as much

in conclusion homestuck is good

Mutually Assured Dating

‘You were singing really loudly in the shower when I broke into your apartment but then i heard you slip and crash and oh god i should probably check on you in case i get done for murder instead of just robbery’ AU


It took all of fourteen seconds for Derek to realize he was in the wrong apartment.

First, he noticed the very large and scuffed up sneakers and boots ditched haphazardly kind of near the door but half into the living room. Cora was meticulous about her shoes and kept them neatly arranged in a shoe rack right next to the door. The only time they touched the floor was when her feet were in them.

Second, the stuff. There was so much stuff everywhere; clothes thrown over the back of the couch, dishes across the coffee table and all over the kitchen counters, books on every surface, a gaming console dragging wires across the floor and surrounded by games, in cases and out of them. Cora was an unintentional minimalist, in that she threw out anything she didn’t need and lacked a single sentimental bone in her body. Derek and Laura regularly made trips to wherever she lived to save family keepsakes and memories from her ruthless cleaning sprees.

Then he noticed the manly warble coming from somewhere deeper in the apartment, and Cora’s favorite topic of rant floated lazily to the forefront of his mind.

—but my neighbor, oh my god this guy! I’m going to kill him if I ever see him in the hall! His bathroom shares a wall with my bedroom and he sings in the shower, every shower, at all hours. Literally all hours, like 4am, and he only sings Christmas carols at 4am. I’ve have Jingle Bells stuck in my head for a week! 

Shoes, stuff, singing.

This was not Cora’s apartment.

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Among the Crowd (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Soulmates’ worlds go from black and white to colors when they are in the same room for the first time. Bucky is a famous actor in the middle of a convention, trying to find his soulmate, you.

Word Count: 2,232

A/N: This is a re-write of a Dean W. fic and I hope you all like it :D 

Originally posted by v-writings


Bucky took a swig of water, tightening the cap on the bottle before setting it to the side. His meet-and-greet was about to start. He could hear the bustling of the crowd right outside the door and took a deep breath. Alongside him was Clint, a co-star.

“You doing okay, buddy?” asked Clint, eyes concerned as he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

After a few minutes, Nat Romanoff and Sam Wilson took their seats next to each other and the writer of the show, Bucky’s oldest friend, Steve Rogers, emerged from behind the black curtain that had been put up behind the actors.

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FUTURE HEARTS | PT.6 [M]

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 | pt6 | (6/?)

pairing: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader

genre: smut, angst / punk!jikook

word count: 17,335

note: inspired by the anime/manga “Nana” / music playlist

description: It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

cr.


The slight tremble in Jimin’s fingertips developed into a full-blown tremor as he closed the door to his studio, effectively leaving you behind — but it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that simple because he wasn’t just leaving you behind. He was leaving you behind with a guy that you were completely in love with… Which kind of blowed considering he was starting to fall for you himself.

The music from the party was reverberating inside of his chest and he knew that his ears should be ringing with anger, but instead he just felt numb. It was like he couldn’t hear anything; no music, no crowd, nothing. It was all one giant blur that didn’t seem to make sense to him, and all because his mind was screaming that nothing else mattered right now — nothing except for you.

Jimin knew very well what leaving you in that room with Jungkook meant. It meant every single feeling that the two of you had ever had for each other would inevitably rekindle, and compared to what Jimin had with you, even if he did consider it one of most amazing stints of time of his entire life, it didn’t hold a candle to what you and Jungkook had, and probably always would have.

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Harry Potter can’t sleep (and neither can Draco Malfoy)

prompt: pillow covers (thanks @miniemcgee)
<5k

Fuck this, Harry thinks, listening to the rustle of Malfoy’s sheets as the insufferable git rolls over for what has to be the fifth time in as many minutes. And fuck McGonagall for assigning Draco Malfoy, of all people, to be his roommate. No wait, Harry immediately takes this back. Even in his internal monologue he isn’t comfortable disrespecting McGonagall.

Still Malfoy is a nightmare to dorm with. Merlin, Harry would much rather be having a nightmare – at least then he’d actually be sleeping! Malfoy tosses and turns all night. He gets up and visits the bathroom two-three times every night. What, does he have a bladder the size of a peanut? It’s ridiculous.

All Harry wants is to sleep. All Malfoy seems to do every night is make as much noise as possible. Harry mentions it to Ron once at breakfast. Even though all the eight years have been given new shared “houseless” dorms, thankfully they’re still allowed to sit at their house tables. Harry is incredibly grateful for this. It’s bad enough staying awake all night listening to Malfoy, he’d hate to have to put up with him in the daylight as well.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Ron asks.

“He makes noises, Ron, in his bed. All night!” Harry explains, desperate for someone to understand his frustration. It’s constant, night after night. Rustle rustle rustle.

Ron looks at Harry like he’s lost his mind, a faint blush on his cheeks. Harry doesn’t bring it up again.


Draco is tired. So very tired. He can’t remember ever not feeling tired. It’s been so long since he’s been able to really sleep. At least two years, maybe more. Probably more. He thought things would change after the Battle of Hogwarts. That Voldemort’s death would give him peace. But it hasn’t. Nothing seems to. He doubts anything ever will.

Every night it’s the same. He lies in bed desperately willing himself to sleep, for his body to give in and relax. But the relaxation never comes. Sure he gets bits of rest here and there but it’s always fleeting, never enough. The morning takes a lifetime to arrive and yet, somehow, it’s always too soon.

Tonight he studies late in the library. He pushes himself to remain for as long as possible. What’s the point in going to bed anyway? Finally the exhaustion becomes too much for him and he heads back to the dorm, all the while knowing the exhaustion isn’t enough to grant him sleep. It never is.

His dorm is dark. Potter must already be in bed. He is surprised by how early all the eighth years go to bed. In Slytherin lights out was always well after midnight. Unfortunately, not many others from Slytherin have returned to Hogwarts to back him up on this. So everyone seems to retire by 10pm every night.

He stumbles around the dark room, trying to be quiet, his arm reaching out in front of him searching for his bed pole to grasp, while his eyes adjust. There. Using the bed post as a guide, he lets himself fall into bed.

Ah. His body crumples inwards, pleased. It takes all Draco’s determination to keep his body upright throughout the day when all he wants to do is collapse. His body craves for sleep all day and then when he finally gets to bed, nothing. Yet another restless night.

Except today something feels different. His pillow is softer somehow, his blanket warmer. There’s something else too.  A strong, commanding scent he’s never noticed before. He breathes in deeply and lets it wash over him. Grapefruit. Honey. Ginger. It’s comforting. And familiar. He takes another breath. And another. His eyes close.

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{PART 29} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; After a much needed rest, you wake up to find that your world - as a Vampire, is still filled with the same love from Jungkook as it was when you were human. Decisions must be made - but you know that you’ll never have to walk alone.

“Without her, his mind became an empty vessel; filled with crippling emptiness and sorrow. But with her, his days would be forever filled with endless love and possibilities. For that; was the power of her love.

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

{Part 1} //{Part 28} {Part 29} {Final Chapter: Part 30}

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Imagine

Here’s my meta about the last clip of episode 5.

  • Our intro shot of the karaoke bar introduces our players. I’m especially interested in how we see Mari and Sara twice each (and sharing one shot).
  • May I just say: I am glad my son Eskild is alive and Extra.
  • We have Chris talking to Sara (we don’t see Sara’s face but it’s her jumper) 👀
  • In general we have a big focus on couples (including Evak) and russebussen people. Showing, again, this season’s themes (love and identities/belongings).
  • We have some Chris and Eva talking about wiring money, which seems like foreshadowing to the russebuss contract and payment.
  • Even is about to sing and no one ships Evak more than Magnus.
  • @newlevelofdesperate​ wrote a great meta about Even singing “Imagine” by John Lennon. I agree with most of it.
    I’ll just add that the song is ironic, just like “I’m Not In Love” in s3e5. “Imagine all the people living life in peace.” Sana is feeling the song at the moment. She feels that everything came together, finally. But it’s not true. She wished she could create world peace (if you gave her the power to do so she would, she really would). But she can’t. Some things are beyond her reach and she still hasn’t managed to reconcile her two identities (Norwegian & Muslim).
    Also, I think the song is as much an Even song as a Sana one. Once again.
  • We barely see Mikael walk in, and Elias and the gang look around. Yousef seems to be looking in the crowd for Sana. 
  • No shot of the squad until we get a shot of Even seeing them. Then Magnus and Jonas turn to see where Even is looking (not Isak or Mahdi) and we get another shot of balloon squad: no Mikael. Adam and Mutta seem unconcerned. Elias though sees Even and is not smiling (but he’s not looking mad either).
    He grabs Yousef who was smiling towards Sana and…the smile falters.

[this is getting long so I’m adding a “read more”]

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Bet On Me

Reggie x Reader

A/N: This is my first ever fic and I hope you all like it!! Requests for all other Riverdale characters are open!! (This is my first fic because Reggie is bae)

Word Count: 3369

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, violence, heavy make-out session (is that even a warning?)

Summary: Reggie is dared to date Y/N, the sweet and popular untouched cheerleader. He does so, although not expecting to fall for her in the process.

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Little Jealous There, Sarge?

{Part Two}

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

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

Originally posted by stuckwithbuck


Bucky’s hands remained firmly on his lap, his eyes glued to the television screen. Black Swan was on and Bucky was entranced by the symbolism, striking colors, phenomenal acting, and the now on screen sex scene between Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman.

Your eyes raked over his body. His breathing had visibly increased, a sheen of sweat beginning to form on his skin, his hands moving ever-so-slightly to cover the growing erection in his pants; his tongue darting out to lick his lips, pulling in his bottom lip and dragging it between his teeth to quiet a moan. His eyes met yours when he felt your attention on him.

“You’re missing the movie, doll.” His voice had dropped an octave.

“Oh, you’re much more interesting than the movie, trust me.” You nibbled on your bottom lip contemplating whether or not to act on your lustful thoughts. 

You took a deep breath and reached for the remote, pausing the movie. You tossed it across the room before Bucky could grab it, shifting your position and climbing on top of his lap. His hands found your hips as you started grinding yourself against him; he worked you into an even rhythm.

“What’re you doing?” He whispered in your ear as you trailed kisses up his neck.

“You.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and yanked on the strands. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, Sarge.”

“(Y/N)…” Bucky’s grip tightened on your hips.

“Oh, fuck!” Your clit was getting the attention it needed. “P-Please, Buck.”

“I…” Bucky sighed and stopped his movements, bringing your own to a halt. “I can’t.” He shook his head and lifted you off his lap. “I, uh, I’ll just see you later, doll.”

You tried to call out after him but he was gone in a flash. You plopped onto your back and groaned loudly, ignoring the ringtone symbolizing Sam blasting from your phone. That’s when the idea hit you and you knew exactly what you had to do. 

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By rewatching The Blade of Marmora for the billionth time, I finally came to terms with something that had been bothering me since VLD season two dropped on Netflix.

Take a look at this broken, shattered little thing. His father just gave him an ultimatum: “If you go out that door, you’ll never find out who you are.” 

The one above is the moment right after, when Keith decides that saving the life of many is more important than knowing the truth about his past, more important than having a talk with his father, more important than seeing his mom – probably for the very first time.

That’s the look he gave him, the “I’m sorry, I have no other choice” look. He said: “Goodbye, father,” but did not shed a tear, and that’s what I’ve finally come to terms with.

His eyes are full of sadness and yet so firm; it looks like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t. Why is that? Because he’s one hell of a person, a great paladin, and would make an even greater leader, that’s why [read this too for further analysis]. 

He must stay strong. He can’t crumble. Not now.

He put himself last and gave up on the sole occasion he had to discover who he really is, pushing aside the horror of the nightmares he had been experiencing for days. He was probably close to his limit, but for the sake of others – strangers, to be precise –, he opened that friggin’ door. Crying? Maybe later.

He’ll never know who he really is, he’ll never know what that blade means to him [“I know who I am. We all need to work together to defeat Zarkon. If that means I give up this knife, fine. Take it,” he then said, handing the blade over to the Galras], he’ll never meet his mom and Shiro had just abandoned him, saying the worst things to him, but Keith still went: “I have to go, there’s people who need me out there.” 

Y’all should seriously reconsider the idea of Keith as the worst leader for Voltron, ‘cause he’s been able to put himself last in order to do what was right. I’m still enraged we didn’t get a proper aftermath (join my ranting here), but now that Shiro is gone again, I guess it will be hard not to fall into pieces. As of now, nobody knows what Keith’s been through out there.

Guys My Age (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW gifs. 

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Enjoy the smot. And please use protection people. Better safe than surprised. I think this is dirtiest fic I’ve written so far.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 1

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La Dolce Vita.

Genre: Smut. And some fluff too. 

Summary: When your best friend decides to screw you over with the werewolf boy you absolutely hate during your heat~ 

Pairing: Reader [Werewolf AU!] x Jeon fucking Jungkook [Werewolf AU!]

Word Count: 6.9k-ish

Dedicated to my sweet strawberry jelly, @nomoreghostie-anon, Happy Birthday, sunshine!! I hope you like this trash writing of mine ahahah :) 

Also tagging @writeiolite who read this like a billion months ago and loved it, your encouragement always makes me beyond happy!!

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

“Unnie,” you whined, tugging on the end of Jiyoon’s dress, “Don’t go!”

Your heat was supposed to start in a few days and initially you had planned to chain yourself in your room and let her take care of you through it. However her unexpected business trip ruined all your plans. She sighed, turning around to look at you in a mix of understanding and seriousness as she sat you by the edge of the bed.

“Look, ___ I don’t have a choice. If I don’t attend this meeting, they’ll fire me.” She groaned, rubbing the sides of your arm, “But it’ll be okay, you’ve been through this before.”

“Yeah, but I had a boyfriend to help me out then,” you whined, looking at her with pleading eyes. “This is the first time I’ll have to go through it alone.”

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” your eyebrows quirked up at her words and you looked at her in curiosity, urging her to go on. “Look, there are other werewolves in my boyfriend’s pack, you know they can help you.”

You groaned in annoyance, knowing full well about Hoseok’s pack and the members, not forgetting to mention their weird habits, but there was no way you were going to let any of them get close to you, especially not Jungkook. Not when you were in heat.

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A Lesson in Love (The Discovery)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,298

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - Thank you for putting up with me for almost a month and listening to me constantly complain about not being able to get this part written. I adore you. Always.

Originally posted by softtroublemaker

“Bucky wants to talk to you.”

You know that the earth never stops moving; it’s constantly in motion. Constantly making its trip around the sun. But the moment Steve says Bucky’s name, you swear that everything comes to a standstill. It’s the only way to explain how everything around you becomes muted. How you’re seeing Steve as if he were standing on the opposing side of a tunnel and how the pressure of Sam’s arm on your shoulder vanishes.

Over the past twenty-two days, you’ve convinced yourself that the story of you and Bucky was not meant to be. In your mind, he left and closed the door on the potential of there ever being an ending where you and him were together.

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evidence that david wymack is the best character in this entire series, part ii

part i

The Raven King

  • Wymack didn’t care if he had nine Foxes or twenty-five. He’d stand behind them until the bitter, bloody end.
  • “Last I checked Andrew doesn’t like you,” Wymack said.
    • “He still doesn’t,” Neil said, but he didn’t bother to explain.
    • “Interesting.”
  • “Abby wrote me a speech to give you this afternoon. It sounded nice, had lots of stuff about courage and loss and coming together in everyone’s time of need. I tore it up and tossed it in the trash can beside my desk.”
  • Wymack cleared his throat and scratched a hand through his short hair. “Look. Shit happened. Shit’s going to keep happening. You don’t need me to tell you life isn’t fair. You’re here because you know it isn’t.”
  • “I want you on the court in light gear in five minutes or I’ll sign you all up for a marathon.”
  • “I don’t pay for electricity in this place so you can stand around and gossip.”
  • “Andrew Joseph Minyard, what the flying fuck have you done this time?”
  • “Answers now, Aaron,” Wymack said.
    • “I don’t know,” Aaron said.
    • “My ass you don’t.”
  • They were all on time, but Wymack and Abby were conspicuously absent.”
  • “Get your gear and get out of my locker room.”
  • He looked the other way because he knew how badly some of them needed their escapes to survive.
  • It was apparently better to be uncomfortable but safe than to trust a stranger with his fractured team.
  • “Last I checked this was a team meeting, not a gossip circle.”
  • “If any of you so much as look at the Terrapins on your way past their benches I’ll let you walk home from here.”
  • “Some people are just hardwired to be stupid.”
  • Neil had never seen Wymack smile like this. It was small but fierce, as angry as it was proud.
  • “Why did you pay for stalls, Coach?”
    • Wymack lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe I knew you’d need them one day.”
  • Nicky pulled the window down to yell insults, but Wymack threatened him into silence.
  • Wymack pulled a bottle of vodka out of the bag and put it down beside Kevin. “You have ten seconds to inhale as much of this as you can. I’m timing you. Go.”
  • Wymack turned on Neil. “Did you or did you not tell me you weren’t going to start a fight?”
  • “What can I do?” Wymack asked.
    • …”I don’t know,” Neil said.
    • “When you know, tell me.”
  • “Go forth,” Wymack told his Foxes. “Have fun. Or don’t. I don’t care. Just no more fighting, you got me?”
  • “Andrew spent that night here with me. At first I figured he was mad at Kevin for lying to him, but he was more worked up about you.”
  • “I didn’t ask for an apology, wiseass.”
  • Wymack stared at him for an endless minute, then said too quietly, “The fuck did you just say to me?”
  • “He chose to cross a line. You didn’t. You hear me? You didn’t. Don’t ever blame yourself for Seth’s death.”
  • Wymack kept Neil away from the microphone, not trusting Neil to behave himself.
  • “Five points or twenty-six miles. Do the math and decide which one makes you happier.”
  • “Let’s do this,” he said. “The sooner we kill these bastards, the sooner we can get roaring drunk at Abby’s place. I spent all damned morning stocking her fridge.”
  • “I have a cleaning crew coming in tomorrow to wash the Raven stench off our court. Let’s get the hell out of here and get wasted.”
  • “Neil,” Wymack said. “Between you and me, I don’t think you’ve ever been fine.”
  • “Nicky tried to hug Andrew and almost got himself staked with a kitchen knife.”
  • “Speaking of unpredictable assholes, when did that happen?”
    • “When did what?” Neil asked.
    • Wymack eyed him. “Forget it.”
  • “Figure out what you two need to cope with this, and let us know.”
  • “I want one lap for every time you’ve ever said the NCAA’s never had your back.”
    • “Oh, Jesus,” Nicky said. “We’ll be running all day.”
    • “Better get started, then,” Wymack said. “Move out, maggots.”
  • “Be here at six o’clock tomorrow morning,” Wymack said. “We’ve got a game to win Friday.”
  • [Nicky]: “I can’t understand you. That’s not fair.”
    • “Think about that the next time you use German at my practices,” Wymack said.
  • Wymack came out of nowhere and hauled Neil off Riko like he weighed nothing at all.
  • Wymack answered on the fourth ring. “You have a good reason to be bothering me on a holiday?”
  • “He sounds like Neil,” Wymack said, “but he doesn’t look like him. I’ll take your explanation from the top and without a side order of bullshit, thanks.”
  • He stopped fighting to get free; the hands that had been trying to wrench Wymack’s arms off him now held on for dear life.
  • “Can I let go of you and trust you to behave, or are you going to try and cut your face off again?”
  • Wymack didn’t say anything about the scars… He just checked Neil over with a clinical eye and poked at every line of stitches for weaknesses.
  • “He gave me a contract but I wouldn’t sign it. He couldn’t make me sign it. This doesn’t mean anything. I’m still a Fox.”
    • “Of course you are,” Wymack said.

and of course, mine and everyone else’s personal favorite:

  • “Help me,” he said through gritted teeth.”
    • “Let me,” Wymack shot back.

anonymous asked:

I hate you, now fuck me

How Until My Feet Bleed by @kazliin Should Have Ended

Part of him still couldn’t believe that Yuuri was finally here with him, that this was real and not just another dream….

Digging one of his hands into the skin of Viktor’s back… slowly taking him apart, Yuuri looked at him, face flushed and staring at Viktor with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“I hate you.” Yuuri breathed and his eyes held none of the warmth or joy that Viktor had been feeling just seconds before. “Now fuck me.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut and Viktor felt his fingers still in shock, the words so unexpected and unexpectedly painful that every muscle in his body froze and locked in place….

“What?!”

Victor snapped back, the rush hitting him like he was slamming back down on the ice again. To hear those words spoken outloud was a slap to the face and a plunge off a cliff, straight down the sheer rock face of confusion. Because the last time he was in a hotel room with Yuuri, he had been hearing softly muttered confessions imitating affection, and the sharp twist of reality was too much to ignore.

The chill in Yuuri’s eyes melted at Victor’s outburst, honey brown widening in betrayal of his shock. Whatever haze of lust and alcohol fleeted from them in stark reaction, and Yuuri seemed as frozen as Victor, except for his fingers trembling, curled into the bedsheets.

One breath take in an attempt to calm the mix of emotions threatening to spill forth, and Victor permitted it all burst forward despite himself. “Why are you even here then?”

Just like that, Victor saw all the confidence drain from Yuuri’s face, leaving him pale and then scrambling for shoved aside bedding to cover himself. Victor didn’t bother.

“Yuuri, I don’t-…” Years of questions leapt through every part of his mind, brawling to be the first to fall from his tongue just so he could finally hope to grasp at a single note of understanding. The most and least simple being, “why?”

If emotions and confusion, insistent need to understand were at battle inside himself, it looked like a war was raging through Yuuri. His gaze locked with Victor’s and yet he still looked torn between wanting to cling to it and to flee, clutching at the bedsheets which he brought up to cover himself, suddenly modest. “Why what?”

The tremor in his voice was all that Victor needed. “Why do you… I don’t get you, Yuuri! What the hell did I do to merit you dancing with me one moment and telling me you hate me as you try to sleep with me the next?”

A heartbeat passed. Then two.

Yuuri opened his mouth, no words coming forth, and then shut it. His eyebrows arched high into bangs messed from the heated lead up, and then his expression fell. And hardened. His red, swollen lips pursed into a thin line, and those gorgeous eyes narrowed. It almost startled Victor, to recognize in that moment the contempt he had often seen directed at him when on the podium.

“This! Exactly this!” Yuuri snapped, dropping the bedsheet as he leaned forward, closing the distance Victor placed between them. “The fact that you don’t even care enough to remember!”

“Remember what?!” Every memory of his interaction with Yuuri flashed by, but none of them could account for hate, at least not in Victor’s mind. “What I said to you in the bathroom that one time? That was–”

“No! Before that! You were my idol, Victor, and you broke my heart!”

Before that… Desperately, Victor searched every shred of memory, every hint of an interaction with Yuuri that he had treasured no matter how tense or distant, but there was nothing. “What, Yuuri, I would never–”

“You did!” Yuuri’s words cut in and Victor let him, watching the flush of arousal on Yuuri’s skin turn to one of anger and irritation instead. “I worshipped you and you insulted me. You belittled me. I was just a kid…” Yuuri inhaled a shaky breath and the dam broke. “I went to see you, when you skated your last Junior season. I got tickets as a birthday present, because I wanted nothing more than to see you skate. And after you won, I… I waited outside for you, to get your autograph. And I met you.”

It wasn’t ice in Yuuri’s eyes anymore. It wasn’t fire. It was what Victor had felt so close to, so many times himself, could recognize instantly. Defeat.

“You… you broke my heart, Victor, when I met you…”

Broken did not seem to be enough. Victor shattered, cascading into shards that littered the cold floor beside them. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t. I was just one fan. And you have so many. Why should you?”

He should have. Why didn’t he. “But Yuuri, it’s you. How could I not remember you?” Why would he though. Yuuri was right. He would have just been another face in the crowd. Yet Victor felt like he should. Of all the faces, of people, he should have remembered Yuuri. What had he even said.

“You didn’t. You… I just-… how many other hearts did you break, Victor? How many other dreams did you step on? Or did you forget all of those too?”

The shards fragmented. Stepped on and crushed by each syllable being confessed. He had met Yuuri, broken his heart, and couldn’t even recall how. Couldn’t even begin to guess. “Yuuri, I’m sorry-”

“Whatever,” Yuuri sighed, then shoved off the bed, but Victor reached over and grabbed his hand before Yuuri could grab his clothes off the floor, grateful for when Yuuri stopped and did not jerk away.

“Yuuri, don’t please…” He needed to understand. He would not be content to leave it at that. “You… at the Olympics, you got drunk… you told me that you liked me. Or that you liked my hair, and my eyes. So I know you can’t hate me. Not completely. And Yuuri, I don’t hate you. Please, I just need to understand, so that if I need to spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, I can mean it. So please tell me. Help me remember. Or at least, help me understand.”

Conflict writ itself in bold across Yuuri’s face, but the tension in his shoulders softened and the pull of his wrist in Victor’s hand ebbed away. The digital clock display on the hotel bedstand switched minutes, and Yuuri pulled at his lower lip with his teeth, then nodded. “Okay but… let me put something on first?”

There was a blush tinting Yuuri’s cheeks, softening him into a vision Victor had only seen in Phichit’s photos before, of a delicate Yuuri that Victor had never been permitted to see in the flesh before now. His chest felt too small for his heart as it swelled with the affection Victor had already been so bad at containing.

Without the briefest moment of hesitation, Victor rushed to the corner of the room, grabbing one of his shirts from closet since he had now regrettably torn Yuuri’s. He draped it across Yuuri’s shoulders with a gentleness that Yuuri did not seem to believe.

“I think we probably have a lot to talk about.” Victor tried to smile and felt it bloom into a real one when Yuuri scoffed, a thread of amusement and understatement so clearly wrapped around it.

“Yeah… I think… we really do.”


(The moral of the story: communication can happen, if you behave like a good person and put your dick away for just a hot second)

JINX | Taehyung (M)

Originally posted by kimthwriter

Fluff | Crack | Smut | Neighbor!Taehyung | EMT!Taehyung | Enemies → lovers

You’ve had your sights set on Kim Taehyung ever since you’ve moved into the apartment next door to him, the only problem is that your klutz gene makes it difficult to get within three feet of the boy before a freak accident of some sort occurs

word count: 29k+

A/N: first of all i blame @bxebxee for the cumplay that occured in this hot mess, second of all IM SORRY its so long and third taehyung ended up a lot more… toxic than i anticipated so i wanted to warn against that and that i dont condone a lot of his actions/reactions or the toxicity of the relationship but its how his character and OC came out.

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anonymous asked:

so gang!phil interrogating rival!dan but phils usual techniques (slapping, hitting, etc.) are just turning dan on, so instead phil just edges him til he gives in 💙

Phil cracked his knuckles, sighing as he pushed open the door to the interrogation room. He was instantly hit with a rank stench, and he flinched, crinkling his eyes in disgust.

Dan Howell sat in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, a gag over his mouth. He didn’t seem to notice Phil entering.

He had a black eye, and a cut on one cheek, so it was clear the boys had had some fun with him when they had caught him. He was still pretty cute though. And despite all this, Dan’s eyes were dry.

“Dan,” he said loudly, and the boy looked up, glaring at him fiercely.

Phil stepped forward, yanking the gag down, and Dan immediately took this opportunity to spit at him.

Phil calmly wiped it away, and Dan laughed. Phil shook his head, fiddling with the straps of the gloves they used to make punches hurt the offender less and the victim more. It was an old intimidation technique, but Dan didn’t flinch.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, Howell.” His voice was low, and he leaned down so he was at Dan’s level, their faces inches away.

“Maybe,” Dan said slowly, staring him down. “Or maybe you just don’t know why I did what I did.”

Phil stepped back, putting his foot on Dan’s chair, his clunky black boot resting between Dan’s legs.

“Unfortunately for you, that’s why I’m here.”

Dan’s subtle smirk grew, and Phil couldn’t help but growl under his breath. He was infuriating.

“Why would that be unfortunate?” Dan’s voice was light; teasing. “You know I adore our little chats.”

Phil was reminded why Dan was used for things like this - he was the best spy imaginable, and when he got caught, he wasn’t easy to crack.

Phil didn’t hesitate to swing at him, slapping him in the face, hard. Dan’s head was thrown to the side, but he came back smiling. He yawned, a strand of messy brown hair falling between his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I needed that. I was falling asleep.”

Phil grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward roughly and practically strangling him.

“Look Howell,” he hissed, and Dan’s eyes widened slightly. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. And either way, you’re gonna fucking tell me why you were spying on my base, and what you know.”

Dan searched his icy blue eyes, determined not to let his confidence waver.

“I think it’s gonna have to be the hard way,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Because I’m not telling you shit.”

Phil huffed through his nose, and grabbed a handful of Dan’s hair. He tugged back roughly, and Dan let out a soft whimper, of surprise or pain, Phil couldn’t tell.

Dan’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his exposed throat somehow made Phil want to bite him. Instead he fastened a hand around it, making Dan cry out.

“I could snap your fucking neck,” Phil growled at him. “I could slit your throat. Tell me everything, and it’s all over.”

Dan gagged softly, squirming in his tight grip. “No. Hit me again, fucker.”

Phil obliged, letting go of him just to backhand him. And it looked like it hurt like hell; the impact split Dan’s lip. But Dan fucking moaned.

His eyes glinted with red hot fire, a wild grin melting to his features. “Again,” he breathed, and Phil stared at him.

Dan was a mess; he was visibly shaking, he had a black eye and a lip that was bleeding down his chin. But he was asking for more…? What did it take to break this kid?

Phil glared at the boy, punching him twice in the stomach, and shoving him backwards. The chair toppled backwards, and Dan landed on his arms, his head hitting the ground as well.

He cried out in pain, but there was something else in his tone, a sort of whine, and oh my god, this was turning him on, wasn’t it?

Phil swallowed, moving to stand over Dan, hovering above him. Dan grinned at him cockily, until Phil grabbed his face with a firm grip, and he squeaked.

“You think this is hot, don’t you?” He asked quietly, getting as close to Dan as possible without being tempted to kiss his broken lips. Dan laughed.

“And you don’t?” He smirked. “Having me like this, completely helpless? Ruining my pretty face, fuck, like the worthless piece of shit I am.”

It all clicked in Phil’s mind- why no one could seem to make Dan break. It was impossible to get information from him, simply because he liked the abuse. It made Phil even more pissed.

Phil stood back up, grabbing Dan by the hair and pulling him and the chair back up. Dan whimpered; fire shooting through his head.

“We’re gonna try something a little different,” Phil said calmly, his voice coming out sickly-sweet. Dan shivered.

“Do whatever you want,” he spit, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Oh really? That’s too bad.” Without warning he leaned forward, his hands placed on either side of Dan’s hips, his breath brushing over the side of Dan’s neck. He ran his hand over Dan’s waistband, and then down to his (obvious at this point) bulge. “Guess you won’t be coming anytime soon, then.”

“Wha-” Dans breath caught and the words got stuck in his throat as Phil ran his fingertips over his hard on, certainly not making it better. “What d-do you mean?” He choked out.

Phil ignored him, pushing his hand into Dan’s pants, under his boxers, and ran his thumb over Dan’s tip.

Dan whined rather loudly, squirming on the chair, but the ropes made it so it was nearly impossible for him to move.

“Phil,” he breathed, trying to shift his hips away. “What are you d-doing…?”

Phil grinned maliciously. Finally, he had found something that would actually affect Dan. And he was going to have some fun with it.

“Mmh, just giving my whore what he wants,” he breathed in Dan’s ear, and Dan couldn’t help but moan.

Phil moved his hand, wrapping his fingers around Dan’s length. He watched Dan bite down on his bottom lip as Phil moved his hand, slowly teasing him, his thumb brushing over Dan’s slit occasionally.

Soon enough Dan was a whimpering mess, and he seemed to have given up any integrity he may have had left. His head fell back on the chair, his eyes closed, and he was attempting to rut against Phil’s hand while letting out an endless stream of high pitched moans. Phil had to be honest, it was sexy as hell.

Phil could tell Dan was getting close by the increase in pitch of his noises, and the way his hips stuttered. His cock was leaking precum, which made it easier for Phil to slide his hand up and down Dan’s shaft.

“Now,” he said softly, sweetly, even, slowing down his movements to a near halt. “Are you gonna tell me what you were doing outside the base, slut?”

Dan whined, his eyes opening, and he licked his lips.

“Please-”

“Answer the question.”

Phil stopped his movements all together, holding his hand at the base of Dan’s dick so he couldn’t cum even if he was able to.

Dan searched his face, chewing on the inside of his cheek before muttering, “no.”

At that Phil just smiled meanly, biting down on Dan’s throat and sucking hard, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

“That’s okay.” He laughed, and Dan looked almost scared. “We’ve got time.”

That began the next unbearable moments for Dan, with Phil scratching bright red marks down his thighs and occasionally leaving hickeys all over his neck and jaw.

And here’s the thing; Dan did not want to beg. He hated begging. Begging was admitting your defeat, and that was something Dan simply couldn’t do. But right then, Dan was probably closer to breaking down than he had been in his entire life.

He wanted to cum, he had been so close, and when Phil had stopped-

It was worse than any physical pain he could inflict.

When Phil started moving his hand again, Dan almost cried. He started slow again, gradually speeding up, stopping occasionally to flick his wrist around Dan’s head.

“Mmph, fuck,” Dan whined, his head falling back, beginning to lose his mind again. “Ph-Phil, please make me cum, please.”

“You wanna cum?” Phil growled softly, speeding up even more, and Dan practically screamed.

“Yes-! F-Fuck, n-need to…!”

Phil smirked, watching Dan’s face and admiring how he fell apart just from some pain and a hand around his cock. He was gorgeous, his face all roughed up and his hair falling in his eyes, sticking from sweat. Phil wanted to fuck his brains out, but then wasn’t really the time.

“Too bad,” he said finally, stopping again right when Dan was the closest possible.

Dan let out an incredulous noise, groaning, his hips bucking into nothing, desperate for friction.

“Fuck you,” he said breathlessly, his voice breaking. “Fuck you, Phil Lester. Let me cum.”

“Tell me what I need to know, sweetheart.” He dipped two fingers under Dan’s chin, bringing his face up. “Or, trust me, I could do this all day.”

Dan shook his head.

Twenty minutes later, and Dan was visibly shaking again. Tears streamed down his face, and he didn’t even remember when they had started. His hips constantly twitched, and he had to gasp for breath.

“Please.” His voice was soft and broken and desperate and sleepy; goddamn beautiful. “Please, Phil, I need it, I-”

“Aw.” Phil stuck out his lower lip, mocking him. “Poor baby. Poor desperate little whore, do you need to cum, my love?”

Dan shuddered, nodding frantically, not even above falling for Phil’s teasing.

Phil slapped him, the noice echoing through the room, and Dan moaned.

“Then tell me what I fucking need to know, Dan. It’s that simple,” he hissed through his teeth.

Dan whimpered, sleepily shaking his head. But then Phil’s mouth was on his dick, his jeans shoved down, and god, he had been close for an hour now. He just needed it so bad.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and he squeezed them shut.

Phil had been edging him for so goddamn long, he was going crazy. He was so weak, and every second that Phil touched him, he got closer. The very edge, and Phil’s hot, wet mouth was closed around him, humming, and fuck he was going to cum. It was right there, and then…

Phil pulled off with a pop, glaring at him. Dan could scream. And then he lost it.

“Phil, f-fuck, your mouth is so good, please-” he choked on the words, the emotion and need getting caught in his throat, and there were tears on his cheeks again. “Please, need to cum, please let me, p-please-” he hiccuped, shaking his head desperately. “Please, no more. N-No more, I’ll tell you!”

Phil smiled, drawing his thumb down Dan’s cheek.

“Mmh, good boy,” he hummed, and Dan soaked up the praise, nuzzling against Phil’s hand like a kitten. He didn’t care anymore. “That’s all I wanted. Tell me everything, and then you can cum.”

Dan nodded frantically, sniffing, the words spilling from his mouth like a waterfall. How he had been sent to scope out the new recruits, how his gang had been planning to kidnap one of the new kids, hold him hostage. Even how they had anticipated that Dan would get caught, and how he would try and get information on the inside as well.

At the end Dan broke down, a sob catching in his throat, still so fucking hard, his dick still leaking and straining to reach his stomach.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Phil said sweetly, fastening his hand around Dan’s cock for the thousandth time.

Dan sucked in a sharp breath, his head lolling backwards, whimpering softly.

Phil got him off in a matter of moments, and Dan moaned loudly and high pitched as he spilled over Phil’s hand and his stomach.

Phil untied him, seeing as he was practically passed out, and Dan slumped to the ground.

He stood over him, looking over the exhausted, broken boy laying on the ground beneath him, breathing heavily. What a gorgeous mess.

He leaned over, kneeling next to him and lifting his head up by his hair. Dan didn’t even react, except for glancing at him sleepily.

“Needless to say, you can’t go back to your gang,” Phil said calmly.

“You gonna kill me?” Dan asked, more like a statement, as if he didn’t even care what the answer was.

“No…” Phil hummed, letting Dan lay back down and running his fingers through his tangled hair. “I was thinking you’d stay here. With me.”

Dan made a noise of acknowledgment, licking his ripped up lips.

“If it means we can do that again, then I’m down.”

Mr. Min - Chapter 06

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Angst and Smut

Word Count: 26,321 

A/N: I’m so sorry.  I don’t think I’m capable of doing short chapters anymore.  Feel free to read this on AO3 instead if your app messes up.  

And a huge round of applause to the always lovely, @avveh, for beta-ing this behemoth.  I’m so sorry to put you through that lol.

Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 

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two rotten apples [m] | pt. 2

credit: x.

❛❛we’re next-door neighbors and have hated each other since middle school but now we’re going to the same university how can we avoid the other person like the plague so there isn’t a crime scene— what do you mean you promised my mom you would keep an eye on me???? you fucking planned this❜❜ AU

COUNT → 17.686

GENRE → smut | eventual angst

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | spanking mention | mild cum play | explicit language | male and female masturbation | penetration | erotica mention | public sex | restraints | dry humping | graphic dirty talk 

LINKS → 1 | 2 | COMING SOON


The second the timer on the drying machine went off to alert you of your shirt finally being dry enough to wear, the band from its neckline snapped against your shoulders when you slipped it back on. You pulled some of the cotton material to your nose, trying to see if it still even faintly smelled like beer.

Unlike your underwear which just smelled like cum and farts.

The farts courtesy of Jungkook. Well, you didn’t know if he actually farted, but he just naturally smelled like that to you—like old beans and moldy cheese.

You’d spent the past two hours in the laundry room in nothing but a bra and your loose-fitted skirt. It still hadn’t hit you yet—at least not entirely—that you had let your next-door neighbor spank and bone the living shit out of you. That was something you were going to put on your list of stupid-things-you’ve-done-but-did-anyway-for-some-reason. Maybe his mother could relate after giving birth to him. You were pretty sure she found him just as annoying as you.

But then everyone else thought rainbows shined out of his ass.

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Let Me Protect You - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 11,337

Warnings: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN? 18+, NSFW, Oral (both receiving), Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Shower Sex, Wall Sex, Bondage, Mitch’s Scruff, Mitch’s sexy ass arms and muscles and abs and face and MITCH’S ENTIRE BEING

Notes: Holy. Shit. It’s long overdue but THAT WORD COUNT??? I am dying inside from this. I hope you dirty people like this. Please let me know because this literally killed me inside to write. 

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