genuine question: why do you not like people refering to lucio specifically as "boy"? tumblr tends to call every character boy/boi especialy since the mcelroys became popular so what is it about lucio in particular that isnt good to call him boy
The short answer: it’s because he’s black and the people doing it are largely white and there’s cultural baggage surrounding white people using the words “boy” and “son” to address black men.
The long answer starts out with the idea of tonedeafness and a fandom phenomenon that crops up when predominately white fanbases are exposed to dimensional, compelling characters of color. The same thing happened with Star Wars and Pacific Rim and so many other diverse franchises lately.
A lot of the time, white fans are genuinely not trying to be racist, but most of their faves up to this point have been white, and they haven’t considered that perhaps the way they write and talk about those faves would take on different implications when the characters’ race is considered.
For instance, and I get in trouble a lot for bringing this up, but a few months ago there was a Disney AU fanart of Finn and Rey from Star Wars as Tarzan and Jane. Now, in the movie, Tarzan and Jane are both white, but in the art, the impact changes because Finn is a black man and the artist drew him as an animalistic ape-man who meets a delicate high-class British woman who “civilizes” him. Obviously the Tarzan/Jane dynamic has a very VERY different meaning if Tarzan is depicted as black and Jane is depicted as white, and it is in fact racist to depict Finn that way even if it wouldn’t even be the smallest problem to draw, say, Iron Man and Pepper Potts in the same exact situation. (Also if anyone is Tarzan in that pairing, it’s Rey, but I digress)
So you get these situations where people are trying to do the stuff they always do for all characters, only their faves have mostly been white up to this point so they’ve never really had to consider the racial implications of the stuff they say and write about those characters. That’s why they draw D.Va as an infant without realizing that the infantilization of East Asian women is actually a harmful racist practice, and then when informed of this fact, instead of saying “oh shit, I didn’t know I was contributing to that! Thanks for telling me, I’ll stop doing it,” they get defensive and claim that actually it doesn’t matter if the end product is 100% identical to racism, because they didn’t intend for it to be racist, that’s not what they were trying to do.
Also, generally speaking, they don’t do the same thing to white characters. While jokes at the expense of Soldier: 76 and Zarya are usually things like “he’s old and grumpy” or “she’s really strong,” jokes about Reaper are more like “he’s got a huge dick and he’s abusive and a rapist” and jokes about D.Va are usually “she’s a dirty and mischievous subhuman creature and the white guy is like her dad.” The fact that a lot of people make all these jokes and think they’re roughly equivalent speaks to how much unconscious racism they’ve got to purge from their system.
Alright, so now that we understand that, let’s get into a little more of why “boy” and “son” in particular are not the sort of thing you should not call Lucio.
The first and main reason is that he’s a grown man, aged 26, but more importantly, he is a black man. Historically, the words “boy” and “son” have been used on black men for two reasons:
Because even grown black men were to be treated as childlike under white supremacy, esp. under slavery, and even after the abolition of slavery, the words “boy” and “son” are still used in order to talk down to black men. You will still frequently catch younger white people address black men older than them as “boy” or “son,” especially in a service capacity (i.e. a black waiter or employee at a store). Under slavery, the dominant white supremacist narrative was that even the smartest black people were only on the level of white children, which is obviously a complete falsehood fabricated to justify their continued subjugation by saying “they’d be lost without us.” So, by referring to black men as “boy” or “son,” that’s the message that was being communicated, that even though any given black person is grown, they’re still viewed as roughly mentally equivalent to children.
A lot of slaveowners didn’t feel it was worth it to learn the individual names of their slaves, so they would simply address them as “boy” or “son” (or “girl” or a variety of other degrading names for women) and this practice continued even after the abolition of slavery. Again, calling back to the “black waiter” situation I referred to earlier, you still sometimes see white patrons referring to black employees as “boy” or “son” in this way. For older people, they would use the terms “Auntie” and “Uncle” as a way to deny them honorific titles such as “Mister” and “Miss,” which is where we get mascots like “Aunt Jemima” and “Uncle Ben,” both of whom were derived from this practice. A similar example is how a lot of white railroad passengers wouldn’t bother to learn the names of their car’s porter and would simply call them all “George,” which again sort of demonstrates my point: the name “George” isn’t inherently racist, lots of people have that name, but to call a black guy doing their job that carries different implications even if you “didn’t mean it that way.”
So generally, there’s nothing wrong with the words “boy” or “son” most of the time, but when you address a black man this way, it carries a whole different implication. I’m not trying to condemn anyone morally or say “you’re evil if you’ve ever used these words about Lucio” or anything, but back to the beginning of this:
I am assuming you all have positive intent, that you are all well-meaning and that you are definitely not trying to be racist. Because of this, I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you when a thing you’re saying carries meanings that you maybe didn’t consider and definitely didn’t mean to imply. I know I would feel foolish and guilty if I found out something I’d been saying casually actually had a racist meaning that I wasn’t aware of, so I just want to say that if anyone reading this is (like me) a white person who’s really truly well-intentioned and doesn’t mean to be racist at all, your response here should be “oh wow, I didn’t know that Boy and Son are names you generally shouldn’t call black people, I’ll be more conscious of that in the future,” and if your response is to become defensive and try to prove that it isn’t bad because you didn’t mean it “that way,” it either means you aren’t well-intentioned and do mean to be racist OR it means you didn’t read the post.
That being said, I’m happy to inform where I can, but I’m also not black, and a lot of black writers have explained this a lot more eloquently than me. I suggest you do some googling and research what they’ve said on the subject, because I’m sure they’ll give you a clearer picture than I possibly can.
In retrospect, Bitty should have been able to read the subtle signs.
Coach keeps his eyes trained on the TV even when the game cuts to commercial. One hand clutches the remote more firmly than usual, while the other does the same to his beer bottle. The wrinkles across his forehead become momentarily more pronounced.
But Bitty doesn’t notice he should be bracing himself until after it’s already happened.
“So. Your mama says you’ve got a sweetheart.”
Every major organ in Bitty’s body stops for a moment.
“She– What? I–”
“Well. She suspects. But you know how she is.”
Bitty swallows roughly against the desert wasteland his throat has suddenly become. It’s only the first week of his junior year’s summer break. He and Jack celebrated their one year anniversary a handful of days ago, making out like teenagers in the doorway to Jack’s old room for a few precious minutes before anyone could break away from the graduation festivities to come find them.
They’ve talked in loose terms about eventually coming out to people who aren’t a member of the Falcs or the SMH, but they don’t actually have anything resembling a plan.
Especially when it comes to Bitty’s parents.
“I don’t have a sweet–” Bitty starts, and stops at the single raised eyebrow his father shoots him.
“Mama’s wrong,” he insists anyway, breathing in deep and trying not to let his hands shake as he wrings them together.
His fingers itch to text Jack.
Coach tilts his head slightly to the side. “Could be,” he allows. “Thought you and I should have a talk either way.”
This is the longest commercial break in a football game that Bitty has ever sat through.
He purses his lips and furrows his brows. “Mama thought you should–”
“I thought,” Coach corrects easily, setting his beer down on the end table and then turning in his recliner to finally face where Bitty is curled up on the sofa. He frowns, lips thin and tight, eyes steady and assessing.
Then, after a lengthy silence: “Do you love him?”
The sharp breath Bitty sucks in nearly chokes him.
“What?” he whispers, voice ragged and harsh around what little air he can force from his frozen lungs.
The game starts up again. Coach’s hand squeezes the remote a little tighter, but he doesn’t press pause. And he doesn’t look away from Bitty. “It’s alright if you don’t. I won’t tell your mama either way if you don’t want me to.”
“You… But I thought she…” Bitty feels dazed, pulse pounding, and brain struggling to make sense of whatever alternate universe he’s somehow stumbled into.
“Junior, you know she loves you. No matter what, we both love you. And, again, she… suspects. But I wanted to talk to you first, before I go confirming or denying any of her late-night jam-making musings.” He sighs, and then lifts up the remote so that he can see the buttons well enough to hit Off on the first try.
“Do you love him?” he asks again, once the screen is dark.
Bitty swallows. Then nods.
One side of Coach’s mouth lifts into the beginnings of a rare, soft smile. “Good,” he says, as earnest as Bitty has ever heard him.
“Now. Enough of that.” Coach picks his beer back up and takes a swig as he turns back to the television set, hitting the power button once more so that the game comes back to life on the flat screen before them. “Just so you know, I’ve been keeping up with hockey as much as I can in the off hours, but it was a hell of a lot easier to do when an NHL prodigy was around to go through plays with me on the whiteboard in the den.”
Bitty bites his bottom lip against a smile.
“You still in touch with the Zimmermann kid?” his father asks. And Bitty’s smile collapses in on itself before it’s even begun. “Not that I’d expect you to be. But he’s the kind of athlete every coach dreams of, really. You’re lucky to have had him on your team.”
“…Yeah.” Bitty digs his nervous fingers into the meat of his own thighs, and resists texting Jack for just a few moments longer. Because when he does, he knows that their plans for the future will no longer be defined in loose terms. “I am.”
<b>aries:</b> I know this is a hard time for you, aries, but remember: 'tis better to have loved and lost. it’s really great, just the best.<p/><b>taurus:</b> step on a crack, break your mother’s back. pick up the phone, break your mother’s tailbone. take your coffee with creamer, break your mother’s femur. the wizard’s spell has gone terribly wrong, and you must not move at all until it is reversed.<p/><b>gemini:</b> you will meet a tall, handsome stranger. he will introduce himself, you will come to know him well, and he will know you well. he will grow older. his skin will sag and thin. he will no longer be handsome. he will no longer be a stranger. he will no longer be most of the things he once was. he will be a close friend, an old friend, one you’ve known for years, and with whom you are settling down into that final stretch of life. but he will always be tall. so tall. very, very tall.<p/><b>cancer:</b> I’m not saying this is bad news, but the stars just say “aaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!” I mean, maybe that’s a good sign, right? right? it’s a very inexact science.<p/><b>leo:</b> today is your lucky day! which is good news, because tonight is your unlucky night. but enjoy this lucky day until the sun goes down. until the very second the sun goes down. and then…and then…<p/><b>virgo:</b> you should check under your bed before you go to sleep. that way the thing hiding in your closet will think you haven’t realized where it is yet.<p/><b>libra:</b> all eyes are on you. gross! give them back!<p/><b>scorpio:</b> mars is intersecting with Mercury, which means your head is weirdly big for your body, and no one wants to tell you because they don’t want you to have the grace of self awareness. ugh! scorpios.<p/><b>sagittarius:</b> you worry too much about earthquakes and plane crashes. you’re going to die of heart disease or cancer, just like everybody else.<p/><b>capricorn:</b> stop throwing your money away on expensive cars and nice clothes. the owners of those cars and outfits do not appreciate the crumpled dollar bills you keep throwing on them! and anyway, if you want to throw something away, that’s what garbage cans are for.<p/><b>aquarius:</b> you’ve been so stressed lately. why not just sit outside tonight, relax, look up at the stars, and know basically nothing about the world you live in.<p/><b>pisces:</b> scorpions are not as dangerous as everyone thinks. try to concentrate on that. it’ll help you feel a little calmer tomorrow.<p/><b></b> (welcome to night vale ep75)<p/></p>
Summary: Cuddling up to Otabek has always been easy and normal for Yuri. So when Otabek starts avoiding him, it hurts a lot more than he expects. (2nd place giveaway prize for @some-sort-of-firefly !! Prompt: confessions and first kisses. otayuri. word count: 1237)
They’ve always been
comfortable with being close together physically. That’s how it’s been, and
that’s how it always will be.
At first, it was never the way
Viktor and Yuuri are always draped over each other in public – god,
Yuri would rather never step foot on the ice again than be anything like those
two – but it’s
more of the subtle things, such as Yuri wrapping his arms around Otabek during
motorcycle rides, or Otabek’s hand gently holding the small of Yuri’s back as
he leads them through the streets.
Then it started becoming,
well, less subtle. Such as the
multiple times Yuri has tackles Otabek in a hug after a long period of time
without seeing each other, Otabek playing with Yuri’s hair and braiding it to
different styles, and falling asleep together on the same bed, arms wrapped
around each other.
For Yuri, it’s something
natural, comforting. Nothing calms him down more than Otabek’s touch, warm and
steady and easy to focus on when he’s starting to lose his temper. He’s sure
that his best naps he’s had have always been with Otabek’s arms around him.
Otabek is such a comforting presence that is now hard to live without.
As of late, though, he’s
noticed that Otabek has been distancing himself from him, physically.
Everything else has been the same, but Otabek no longer plays with his hair or
takes his hand, or, well, anything.
He’s been conscious with how he moves when he’s around Yuri, and whenever Yuri
tries to initiate the contact himself, it only takes a few minutes before
Otabek gently moves Yuri’s hands away from him.
concerning. And lonely, he finds out, when Otabek smiles at him apologetically
that night and says he’d rather sleep in his own hotel room for the rest of
their time in France for the Grand Prix Finals. He doesn’t get much sleep that
night. And when he sees Otabek yawning and rubbing his eyes the next day, he
knows he isn’t the only one.
Y/n freezes as she hears Harry’s voice ask her the question she’s been dreading to answer.
It’s been two weeks since she’s heard that voice. It may sound rougher now, more stern and harsh than it normally is as it growls behind her at the counter of Lexi’s bar, but it’s still the first time she’s heard it in two weeks.
After her sober confessions to a very tipsy, slumberous Harry, Y/n had to understand what it truly meant to move on.
At first, she thought she would still be able to be around him as she searched for ways to rid her feelings. She distracted herself, mostly. She would interact more with Savannah than she would Harry, and even started picking up new habits whenever she felt her emotions creeping in. Anything that reminded her of him was disregarded entirely so that the only time he was able to consume her thoughts was whenever he was near her.
For the first couple weeks, she was holding up quite well, considering the circumstances. She was able to contain her emotions and take her mind off of the raging heartache that kept burning in her chest.
But it wasn’t much long after that night when Savannah and Harry finally became official, and if Y/n wasn’t anguished before, she surely was then. She was forced to witness the transition of their relationship in hindsight. What was once casual flirting and innocent touches turned into secretive giggles and loving hand gestures.
It was as if her heart broke all over again. What seemed to be almost completely mended was destructed all at once. The chase between Harry and Savannah was over, and reality set in that Harry was happy and in love with someone that wasn’t Y/n.
Watching them together was Y/n’s most devastating nightmare, and the thought of that alone meant she couldn’t mentally handle being alone anymore. With all of the emotions built up inside of her, being alone for Y/n meant enduring the pain and suffering she didn’t want to feel anymore. She just wanted it all to end, everything.
The earliest hours of the morning wrecked her the most. With only the moon illuminating the room and the radio silence throughout her house gave Y/n no choice but to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t loved, and no matter how many nights she’s tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end, it was.
She had to let Harry go, completely this time. She gave up on him entirely because she couldn’t keep loving him when he didn’t love her. Not anymore, not like that.
She keeps her back to him as he heaves heavy breaths, eyes sending daggers and teeth clenched from his crippling frustration.
“It’s Thursday, I see,” Harry grumbles before giving her the chance to answer, jaw locked as his fingers grip harshly around a stray, unfinished glass of alcohol. “You never work Thursdays. ’S this where your Friday shifts went?”
There’s an unpleasantly rough tone in his voice that makes Y/n’s breath hitch in her throat. She’s never witnessed this side of him, filled with anger and exasperation. He’s always been so soft and gentle, never having the heart to speak down to someone. But here he is, eyes dark with anger and words spewing venomously from his lips.
And as much she hates to admit it, she can’t blame him for being so angry with her. She knows she means the most to him—even if it’s not in a romantic sense—she’s become such an important part of his life. Ever since they met, she took in the truth about his past, understood the feelings and thoughts he’s carried all through his years, and was able to provide him with anything she was able to when he needed her most. She was one of the very few people he trusted and felt most comfortable with in his life. She was irreplaceable, he’d always tell her, nobody could compare to her. She meant everything.
And then, she left him. She distanced herself so far away from him until it was as if she was never apart of his life. She ignored him and all his attempts to reach out to her again. It hurt her tremendously, knowing that what they had together was completely and utterly helpless, but she never questioned how Harry felt about it. She did what was easiest for her and never thought about it twice. She left him so that he can be happy, but as he stands so tensely and confused before her, she can’t help but blame herself what’s happened between them.
She nods her head softly, still refusing to look up at him as she gathers all the used glasses in front of her, making herself seem distracted so she doesn’t have to make much effort into speaking to him.
“I—uh, yeah. Friday nights were getting hectic and I couldn’t keep up with the late hours. I thought Savannah told you.”
It’s a lie. A shitty, impulsive lie that Harry almost finds humorous. Of course, Y/n switched her Friday night shift. She felt as if she had no choice. She couldn’t bare to look at him with Savannah another goddamn second, and he thought of spending Friday nights with Harry without being alone with him and going to the 24-hour movie theater together was enough to make her sick to her stomach.
“She did,” he clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he watches her scramble around the bar, “didn’t have to, though. I knew she was lying.”
Y/n’s actions halt for a moment, a feeling of dread flowing in her veins before she goes back to cleaning off the bar, disregarded his statement completely.
Harry knows Y/n’s been avoiding him, she hasn’t exactly made it as subtle as she thought. Their entire friendship changed, and Harry knows he wasn’t the one ruining it.
The morning after Y/n drove Harry back from the bar, all he could really remember clearly was falling asleep with Y/n. There were other bits he remembered, but that was really the only moment that came to him when he woke up. And he was confused when he woke up alone because, in all honesty, he was looking forward to waking up next to her. It was all his drunk mind thought of, and that terrified him.
When Y/n started distancing herself from him, Harry kept wondering what he had done wrong. She was fine with Savannah, keeping up with their lives as usual. But she was different with Harry—closed off, in a way, and it made him feel something he’s never felt in his life before.
He was confused, to say the least. Because when he was kissing down the bare chest of the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Y/n, and how he hasn’t heard her voice and how he hasn’t felt her in so long.
He had Savannah wrapped around his finger, yet he still felt as if everything about it was wrong. He changed when Y/n left him, because even when he was around the most loving company, he felt alone.
He was helpless. As much as he tried to love Savannah, Y/n was always in the back of his head. She was there, all the time, trapped in his mind with no escape route.
At first, he was confused—upset and lost without Y/n. He didn’t know life without her would feel so lonely, so empty and incomplete. It was strange, not knowing how to live his life without her. He’d never expected her disappearance to be such a hindrance to him, but it was. Oh, how it was.
Then, he was angry—angry because as many times as he tried to get her to speak to him again, she never came back. She was gone, forever.
Now, he’s hurt. So damaged by her leaving his side, so incomplete and destroyed without her with him anymore. His heart is heavy with sadness and he couldn’t let himself feel this way anymore.
He needs her, no matter how wrong and pathetic it sounds, he needs her.
“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he seethes, nose flaring as he tries to steady his uneven breath.
Y/n shakes her head ignorantly, a flash on innocence in her eyes as she does so. But she damn knows well what he’s talking about, and her oblivion drives him crazy.
“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“
“Oh, fuck off with it!” Harry spits, slamming his closed fist down on the wooden counter.
He doesn’t seem to care about how sudden the bar falls silent, or the glisten of fear in Y/n’s eyes when she finally looks up at him. All he can seem to care about is how much pain he feels, all over. All he can think about is how now, after the last two weeks of not being able to understand why he cares so goddamn much, he’s finally able to feel some sense of sanity being in front of her now.
“You know what you’re doing to me, Y/n! You know damn fucking well what you’re fucking doing and—“
“Harry, please.” Y/n whispers and she isn’t sure as to whether or not she’s begging him to lower his voice or begging for him to understand.
“And it’s not fair!” he cries out, tears of frustration overflowing from his eyes as he grips tightly onto his hair.
His breaking point is approaching, he feels it. He feels it with every breath he takes and every word that emits from his mouth. His heart twists and breaks as he expresses every feeling that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He needs her to know what she’s doing to him, needs her to know how he feels in this moment.
“I did nothing to you and you keep pushing me away and that’s not fair because I don’t know how to live without you. Isn’t that something?! I don’t know what to do without you, and you know that!”
Suddenly, his head falls in his hands as he begins to sob. Complete heart-wrenching sobs, making his chest tight and breathing shallow.
Y/n reaches her hand out for him, her fingers clasping harshly around his wrist. Her own eyes start to brim with tears as she watches him sob below her, his body shaking with undying cries. She swallows harshly when he grabs ahold of her hand, bringing her palm against his forehead. His lips reach to kiss her wrist softly, quickly refraining from keeping them there longer.
To touch her, for the first time, is every answer he needs. She’s the only one to make him feel this way—she’s the only one to drive him to the brink of insanity and resurface him back to clarity. She has power over him he never understood until now, after he’s lost her.
“I don’t know why it hurts this much, Y/n,” He cries, his eyes squeezing shut as he inhales sharply, “I’ve never been more confused in my life.”
She chokes on her cries as she nods her head softly, her free hand reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair. Her lips shake from their craving to touch him, watching as he weakens beneath her.
She’s missed him, in the most desperate of ways. She’s missed every part of him, and every atom in her body yearned to feel him again. Whether it was to feel the warmth of him from a distance or to feel his skin ignite her, she wanted every part of him against her. If she wasn’t with him, she was missing him, and craving him with every breath she took.
Her lips press tentatively to his forehead, her breath fanning through his hair as she does so. The action is quick, leaving just as quickly as it comes, but it carries sentimental meaning for the both of them.
Harry frowns, his heart thumping in his chest. He looks up into her eyes, filled with concern and sanity as she maps his features.
“It’s been ever since me and Savannah got together.” He mumbles, eyes watching her face as it pales slightly at his words. “You haven’t spoken to me since.”
Her eyes flutter shut as he speaks, finding it completely pointless to try and make him believe otherwise. He deserves to know, one way or another, and even if it’s now, she feels like she’s already lost him. There isn’t much she’d be losing now, anyways. He was never hers.
“Please leave, Harry.” She whispers.
She backs away from him, her touch leaving him was like a gunshot to his chest. It’s a feeling he’s felt all too much that he can’t bare to feel again.
His heart breaks as he watches her begin to cry, her usual glistening eyes now filled with tears of sorrow. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tentatively takes a step closer to her.
He’s desperate, and he doesn’t care how weak he seems. He’s desperate to see where he’s missed it all along, to know how long he’s been making her feel this way. He’ll never forgive himself for all the pain he’s caused her, for all her nights alone when all she wanted was to be with him.
He could have done so much to change this. If he had just listened to his heart from the beginning, this would all be different now. If he hadn’t been so blind, they would both be happy right now.
“Don’t.” she whispers, her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please, don’t.“
She isn’t exactly sure what she’s saying—isn’t quite sure what she’s begging him not to do. Maybe it’s the nickname he’s always called her that makes her stomach twist a bit more, or how he’s trying to make her feel better that makes her eyes sting with a fresh new wave of tears, or how he looks at her now the way he never did before that makes her throat tighten around a sob. Whatever it is that makes her beg, she can’t handle it anymore.
“I’m trying, Y/n,” He whispers, “please.”
“Please just—“ her eyes flutter shut as she speaks, “just leave me alone.”
Harry lets out an unsteady breath, his green eyes brimmed with red as he watches her begin to sob.
He nods, because he can’t let himself keep doing this to her. If he keeps trying with her in her current state of mind, she won’t be able to think properly. She’ll be a wreck, more so than she is now, and he can’t find it in his heart to do that. Even if it means fighting for her.
“It’s not worth it, you know.” He whispers, his eyes staring lovingly into hers, “Being with her, it’s not worth it if it means losing you.”
‘ my kink is getting some fuckin sleep. ’ ‘ omg here goes your lil crybaby ass. ’ ‘ the beatles wouldn’t even fucking exist if big time rush hadn’t paved the path for them so shut the fuck up. ’ ‘ don’t start buddy. don’t you dare. ’ ‘ gay rights? true, as a gay, i am always right. ’ ‘ not to vent, but: fuck. ’ ‘ the worst pain is to make small talk with someone you once told everything to. ’ ‘ i think i accidentally break my own heart a lot. ’ ‘ sometimes ‘brb’ stands for ‘be ready bitch’ so you have to be careful. ’ ‘ i want to kiss you in a way that makes you not want to kiss anyone else ever again. ’ ‘ shout out to the people who are still friends with me even though i’m a fucking idiot. ’ ‘ it’s safe to assume that at any given moment i want to go back to bed. ’ ‘ i’m a big fan of anything that will help me chill the fuck out. ’ ‘ i don’t go through people’s pictures on their phone cause i wasn’t raised in the jungle. ’ ‘ i think we, as a people, just need to have a glass of water. ’ ‘ i don’t have enough black clothes. ’ ‘ sweetie, i could sleep for ten years and i’d still be tired. ’ ‘ i would sleep so much better with your arms wrapped around me. ’ ‘ me??? tired??? sleepy??? yes, constantly. ’ ‘ i’m pb&j – petty, bitter, and jealous. ’ ‘ the fact that sloths aren’t extinct somehow proves that if you go at your own pace and mind your own fucking business you too can succeed. ’ ‘ i wish i could be the person i want to be, but i’m too tired. ’ ‘ i always look sleep deprived. is that hot? ’ ‘ just because there’s always room for improvement doesn’t mean you’ll never be good enough. ’ ‘ my heart is a soft and sensitive mess. ’ ‘ all i want is a big garden and no responsibilities. ’ ‘ honestly someone not liking beyonce is a deal breaker and not for any political reasons, but just like you’re probably, definitely really boring. ’ ‘ hey guys, i’m a huge fan of genuine love and affection. ’ ‘ now i’m falling asleep and she’s calling a crab and he’s having a smoke and she’s kissing the crab. ’ ‘ i’ve been ever since i heard ‘lonely’ by akon at 9 years-old. ’ ‘ my new years resolution is to stop. ’ ‘ i’m irritated cause i’m not lovable in a romantic soulmate way. ’ ‘ i hate knowing that people that ruined parts of me still live and function like nothing ever happened. ’ ‘ i know i’m cute, but you can remind me. ’ ‘ hey, just wondering, but are you fucking kidding me???? ’ ‘ i can’t wait to be in love with someone who is also deepfuck in love with me and we love each other forever n’ ever. ’ ‘ me? clingy? yes. please don’t leave me. ’ ‘ girlfriend application compatibility question: do you keep your depression pile on the bed or on the floor? ’ ‘ anything heart shaped is automatically 200% better. this is a fact. ’ ‘ today’s agenda: screaming into the abyss. ’ ‘ going from ‘today is a good day’ to ‘i hate my life’ takes me approximately 2.6 seconds. ’ ‘ everyone needs to wash their face and go to bed. ’ ‘ i’m worth so much more than the ways i’ve been treated. ’ ‘ hey, can i claim you guys as dependents on my taxes? ’ ‘ i really just ignore phone calls. like leave a message. i don’t check those either but like ’ ‘ i honestly just want to pack my bags and go travel the world and see and explore everything possible. ’ ‘ remember being little and thinking dandelions were fun or a pretty color or something and every adult in an 80 mile radius wouldn’t let you say that without screaming IT’S A WEED. ’ ‘ why did we just accept catdog? ’ ‘ my ‘stay in bed all day’ game’s too strong. ’ ‘ you deserve to be loved without having to hide the parts of yourself that you think are unlovable. ’ ‘ i always forget that i literally don’t owe anyone anything! ’ ‘ i wonder what it feels like to know what the fuck is going on. ’ ‘ honestly… us girls? us women? we always out here, knowin. ’ ‘ would an alien think i’m pretty? ’ ‘ i love boys, but only as a concept. ’ ‘ why do parents get mad when you sleep in all day? like i’m staying out of trouble and i’m not spending your money like what’s the issue here???? ’ ‘ i identify as an inconvenience to the world. ’ ‘ i seriously regret telling anyone, anything, ever lmao ’ ‘ dating me is like dating a five year-old. i need all of your attention and i’m cranky if i haven’t had a nap. ’ ‘ i’m literally tired of myself. ’ ‘ don’t introduce me to ur parents unless you plan on marrying me because they’re going to love me and ask about me for the rest of your life lol ’ ‘ what the hell is a straight person? only straight thing i know about is the edge of my beloved sword. ’ ‘ i highly recommend never having feelings. ’ ‘ self care is going into a cornfield at night to get abducted by aliens. ’ ‘ staying up late with another human is such a weird thing like you get this special bond and a what-is-this feeling ’ ‘ do u ever feel like ur not even friends with ur friends? ’ ‘ um no offense but whom’st’ve going to loveth me? ’ ‘ date a girl who fucks everything up. ’ ‘ not all who mcfreakin wander are mcfreakin lost. ’ ‘ i may legally be an adult but don’t be fooled. i have no idea what i’m doing. ’ ‘ a fun and interesting fact about me is that i’m a fucking idiot. ’ ‘ you can start again anytime! ’ ‘ all you can do is learn your lesson. there’s no point in wishing you had did differently. the past is the past. ’ ‘ i can’t believe an angel like me has to suffer so much. ’ ‘ you’re all so obsessed with love and being loved. what about just going to sleep? ’ ‘ i’m smart, but i do dumb shit anyway. ’ ‘ tbh i never deal with my emotions. i just let them ravage my body and then go to bed and then i wake up and do it all over again. ’ ‘ first of all: i don’t know shit, so jot that down. ’ ‘ i’ll just ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ my way through life. ’ ‘ i’m tired of things costing money. ’ ‘ don’t you hate it when you’re dead inside and run out of apps to refresh? ’ ‘ who cares? do better, move on. ’ ‘ i don’t need a significant other. just a significant income. ’ ‘ appreciation for everyone who’s ever talked to me bc i’m annoying and dumb. ’ ‘ thnks fr th mntl llnss. ’ ‘ what hasn’t killed me has just made me overly sensitive and defensive. ’ ‘ i don’t know shit ya’ll!!!!! i’m just out here. ’ ‘ binge-watching is great until you run out of the show and have to start watching it weekly like some sort of medieval peasant. ’ ‘ i’m in the wrong realm and i think everyone can tell. ’ ‘ this might come as a shock but I’m Not Feelin too good my dudes. ’ ‘ i’m alive, but only ironically. ’ ‘ there she goes again being over dramatic and by she, i mean me. ’ ‘ do you ever feel like have tried Too Hard to a friend and now you have become That Obnoxious Weirdo? ’ ‘ lgbt: lasagna! garfield’s beloved treat. ’ ‘ my favorite phrase in the english language is ‘i shit you not.’ ’ ‘ i’m a real boring bitch! a snoozer! ’ ‘ i honestly look so good lounging in an oversized t-shirt and no pants. when will someone experience the blessing of domestic living w/ me? ’ ‘ you don’t understand how hard it is to take a selfie when you’re ugly. ’ ‘ you son of a mumford! ’ ‘ hi, i’m here to ruin everything. ’ ‘ you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their hands. for example, if it’s a skeleton hand then they’re dead. ’ ‘ the year is 2020 and i am found guilty of treason against the united states for vague blogging that i hate someone and donald trump thought it was about him. ’ ‘ everybody calm down, we’re going to be fine! :))) we’ve weathered worse than this! :) :) :) :) really all this panic just seems like a huge overreaction imho ’ ‘ no beta readers. we publish our crap writing like men. ’ ‘ i need $$$$$ not feelings. ’ ‘ ‘idk imma see’ = i ain’t coming, never was coming, never considered it, never gave it a single thought, only remembered cause you asked again. ’ ‘ oops, i don’t care lol ’ ‘ why girls always crop the halo out of their selfies? stop being so modest. we know the truth. ’ ‘ maurice, you’re not gonna fucking believe this, ’ ‘ i always get told i look like a bitch bc i’m always glaring while i walk, but i’m not glaring, i’m squinting. i have sensitive eyes. they’re watering. ’ ‘ concept: it’s 3 am. candle lit room. a record is spinning. you’re kissing me. we have no worries in the world. we’re warm and content. ’ ‘ i need to go into the forest and scream for an hour and a half. ’ ‘ pls kill all men who yell at girls from cars. ’ ‘ life really isn’t what i expected it to be. less quicksand. almost no quicksand to be honest. lots of metaphorical quicksand tho. ’ ‘ i have a question for u: like are u done… like is it over? ’ ‘ we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive. ’ ‘ we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive. for me, it’s myself. ’ ‘ whenever i see police i always try not to act suspicious and fail internally even though i never did anything wrong. ’ ‘ new years resolution: less bitter, more glitter. ’
Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.
Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.
2 years earlier:
You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.
From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.
You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk, right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.
The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.
It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.
You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.
He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.
He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept.
As if he loved it all now.
He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover yourself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. You were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.
And then you heard his name.
Followed by yours.
Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.
“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”
Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about the idea of spending a whole semester with Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though you still didn’t expect the shake of your head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of your head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.
About sex in cinema.
“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper.
But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.
“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”
“I can come with you if you want.”
“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”
“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that you were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.
And saw that Jungkook was already waiting.
Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.
Even though his expression seemed to say something else.
Oh god. His expression was saying something else.
Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.
And you knew.
“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”
“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”
“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”
“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”
“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”
“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”
“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”
You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.
Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.
And it made no difference at all.
“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”
“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”
“You think everything is cool between us?”
“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”
“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”
“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”
“That last one is getting close.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging.
Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.
“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”
“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.
“But I figure we can work on it.”
“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”
“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”
“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”
“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”
“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”
He didn’t react the way you expected to, with more weird arguing.
He just closed his eyes.
He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.
“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”
“I believe you.”
“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”
“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”
You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.
“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”
The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.
That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.
“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”
You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.
“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”
“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”
“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”
“And I have no argument against it.”
“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.
“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”
He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.
And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.
“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”
“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”
“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.
“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”
“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”
“I think you have a terminal case.”
“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.
And hear it in his words.
“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”
“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”
Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.
He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine. Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed.
It was just a trick of the light.
Better to focus on the real and the now.
“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.
Then you took a breath and answered.
“Nothing,” You said.
A few weeks later:
After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to your awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.
It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.
As did his silence.
He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.
“Jungkook, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”
Like an ominous statue of yourself.
“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”
“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.
“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”
“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”
“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”
“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”
“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”
You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.
“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”
“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”
“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”
“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”
“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.
“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.
Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.
Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.
You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.
Otherwise he would see your face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.
“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”
“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.
“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”
You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.
His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.
“Maybe she doesn’t care.”
“I guess not.”
“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”
“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.
“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.
Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.
Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”
“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”
“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”
“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”
You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.
Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow.
Much too serious.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”
“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”
Your breath hitched.
“You do those things?”
The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.
But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself. You only knew that when he started talking again, you had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.
“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.
But then he kept going.
He kept going.
“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”
“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”
God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.
“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”
“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”
“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”
Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.
“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”
“Yeah but after…”
“After he came then he…”
He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.
Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through.
“Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”
“No. No. After that then this happens.”
You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.
Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.
At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.
“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”
“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”
“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”
“Well, maybe not like this.”
“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”
At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.
“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”
“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”
“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.
You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.
Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.
“Think about how it must feel.”
“Yeah I can…I get that…”
“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”
“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly
“And it works?”
You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.
“It makes you…you know. Cum.”
“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”
“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.
“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”
“Where? Where…where are you?”
You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.
Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.
“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”
“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.
No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.
“Then you just…stroke it.”
“Until she’s mindless.”
“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”
You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.
Not even when he was embarrassed.
Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.
You didn’t even know what the something was.
You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.
It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss.
Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that.
Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.
“You can, you know.”
It jolted you, when he said it.
But not as much as realizing why he said it.
You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.
Because his hand was actually between his legs.
“I do,” he said.
As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.
“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”
“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”
“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”
You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.
Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.
“If we could that would be awesome.”
“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”
“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”
“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”
“Seems that way to me.”
“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.
And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.
You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.
But that wasn’t what really got you.
It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it
under his waistband.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”
“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”
“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”
“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”
But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing.
Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…
You really didn’t need to.
He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.
Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.
“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.
Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.
To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.
He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.
Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.
And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.
Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.
And all of it for you.
He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.
“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.
Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.
You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight:
Him, casually licking his messy fingers.
It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony.
You even winced—then immediately regretted it.
He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.
And asked questions You were loathing to answer.
“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”
“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”
“God, you must be bursting.”
“Honestly, I’m fine.”
The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.
You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.
And of course he could see all of that.
“You look like you’re bursting.”
“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”
“Your voice is shaking.”
“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.
Almost, almost, almost.
“Your cheeks are flushed.”
“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”
Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.
“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing
“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”
His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.
Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.
“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”
“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”
“Right, exactly. Super intense.”
“So why deny yourself?”
“I could leave, if you want.”
“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v
Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded:
Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate.
Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.
And he took it that way, too.
“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.
Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.
You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.
Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.
“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”
“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”
“I always take a lot.”
“Even when you’re alone?”
“Especially when I’m alone.”
“Well, maybe we should see about that.”
Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.
Only without the scariness of the real thing.
All of this was without the scariness of the real thing.
It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.
It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.
Not sexy in the least.
And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.
Yet you still had to clench your jaw.
You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.
he worst lover you had ever had.
You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.
“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.
He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?
Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…
You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans.
You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching.
All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.
Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it.
Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.
Though one little word was more than enough.
“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.
“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.
“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.
With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.
“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.
Only it wasn’t all.
When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.
Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.
You came searingly close to telling him yes.
And go on.
And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.
For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.
Any second, you thought.
Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.
Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.
“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.
There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.
Kick him out.
“Jungkook…you need to leave”
A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics
I’m going to get straight to the point, you guys are self-destructive and are going to kill the fandom over your petty arguments and stupid self-entitlement. There hasn’t been a day since the beginning of the fandom that everything has just been peaceful for once (and I’ve been here since it’s birth) You all should be ashamed of yourselves, fighting online and hurting real people over fiction (this is not specifically towards ships btw) And I’m putting my foot down at all of this bullshit and trying to stop it
This is pretty lengthy so everything is under the cut
@taylor-tut tHIS IS SO LATE I’M SO SORRY MY FAB FRIENDO! But! It has finally arrived!! I’m sorry if it’s a bit crappy, I like haven’t slept in three days haha
anyhoo, onto the story:
Lance woke up with a
He blinked his eyes
open, immediately groaning at the light that pierced through his eyeballs and
into his temples. He brought an arm up to shield his face, shivering slightly.
Taking a deep breath, Lance conducted a mental survey of his condition, assessing
his apparently numerous ailments that seem to have manifested overnight.
that dissolved into a throbbing headache that pulsed outward with each
throat, and lungs that rattled with every inhale? Check.
sensation of being completely, bone-numbingly cold despite the warmth and
clamminess of his limbs? Checkerooni.
is gonna suck.
If Lance were to be
perfectly honest with himself, he would concede that he had been feeling off these last couple days. Nevertheless, the
team needed his 100% right now, and any wooziness he may have felt had to be
put on the backburner. With several months having passed without any sign of
Shiro, tensions within the castle were palpable. Keith and Pidge seemed inches away from
snapping at any given moment, Allura’s training schedule seemed to have been
kicked up the several notches from “very harsh” to “dear god I
can taste my own pulse”, and even Hunk and Coran seemed somewhat subdued.
It was the least Lance could do to try and keep up, and make sure the other’s
stayed optimistic. He was the joker, the sharpshooter - it was his role, no
matter how taxing it could be on his own body.
himself, counting down from five, before swinging out of his bed, pausing to
lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Once the
tilt-a-whirl he usually called a bedroom settled to a soft swaying, Lance began
to make his way down to the dining hall.
Summary: Jimin is your landlord’s son. After one stressful day he comes to fix your shower for you. You find yourself constantly thinking about him. Could he be the perfect submissive? (here’s some lovely Jimin moans for the occasion: credit to owner)
I’ve been working on this for forever so i’m excited about it! :)
Pairings: Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader - A/B/O
Word Count: 3400+
Summary: Sam is rough around the edges, you do your best to avoid him until one night you discover he’s your true mate and instincts take over. This is really just a lot of smut and a little plot to ease things along.
You stop in your tracks, clutching an open hand over your abdomen.
“Shit,” you mumble under your breath as an afterthought. Shit doesn’t quite do this kind of pain justice. This cycle’s heat has brought what your mother, Millie (owner and proprietor of The Brown Bottle), refers to as The Real Motherfuckers. The kind of cramps that stop a woman unexpectedly while on her way to work well after sundown. The two generic suppressants you popped an hour earlier aren’t working as well as you hoped and you find yourself wishing you’d taken a third.
Warnings: Mentions of accidental injuries, angst, swearing, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex
Word Count: 1630
Summary: Bucky accidentally hurts you the night before and you try to keep him from finding out.
Request: Hi I just found your blog and I fell in love, could you write a request where Bucky accidentally hurts Reader during sex, maybe he is thrusts too rough and he mistakes her cries for moans of pleasure and doesn’t realized he hurt her until after his orgasm, but he makes it up to her
A/N: I deviated a little from the request but in essence it’s all still there. Also It’s late, this is unedited. All mistakes are my own so please forgive them.
You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know.
Bucky hadn’t meant to do it and you knew that, but accident or not if he ever found out you were sure he’d never touch you again, hell he would probably stay as far from you as he could get, and that was something you didn’t want to risk. He’d been making so much progress over the last few months, only recently becoming comfortable with you being on his left side.
During the first stages of your relationship Bucky had kept you on his right side at all times, worried that something might happen if you got too close to the gleaming metal plates. It was only after patience and months of showing him he wasn’t about to lose control of himself that he slowly let himself relax. There was no way that you were about to back peddle all of that persistence over a bruise he didn’t mean to make. All you had to do was keep it covered until it healed.
Honestly you hadn’t even felt it to begin with, way too lost in the feeling of Bucky’s sharp breaths and hard thrusts. It was only after you’d come down fully from your high and Bucky had fallen asleep that you felt the dull throbbing around your wrist.
There was no mistaking the perfect outline of Bucky’s fingers in the dark, blotchy skin; the imprint of where metal had met flesh. He had pinned your wrist above your head as he pistoned his hips into yours, and fuck, had it felt amazing. Your orgasm had slammed into you so hard that you felt your eyes tip to the back of your skull, your throat raw from how hard you had chanted his name. You really didn’t want to taint a memory like that.
Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors
and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find
Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about
dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 3,855
language, fluff, angst, confrontation, drinking, cheesy romance, kissing, implied sexytimes, somewhat nsfw but not really, a potentially wasted beautiful meal
A/N: This is my last submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. I did it! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?”
Damian was a bit confused. Usually, on patrol, they would like…do things. Catch criminals. Stop bank robberies. Save widows and orphans.
Yes, Damian was utterly confused as to why tonight, his father and him were following…his mom. Not Talia. You. He never considered Talia his mother, he came to that realization the first time you made him hot cocoa and cookies after he had a rough day, and just…talked to him. Asked him how he was feeling. Just genuinely cared for him, something Talia Al’Ghul never did.
She was his mother, but you were his mommy.
And so, tonight, as he was jumping from a building to another, following you through the dark street of Gotham, he wasn’t really sure what was going on.
Oh my God…Were you a criminal ? Was he going to loose you because his father was going to put you behind bars ? But he loves you ! How could he ?
If it came to that, Damian decided that he would fight his dad, giving you enough time to escape. Yes. He would save you. There was no way he was letting his mommy go in prison, no matter what she did…
His father was talking to Dick about something happening in North Gotham. He then proceeded to call Tim to ask him to go to the docks join Jason because some big drug deal was going on…And once again, Damian wondered why they were tracking you instead of taking care of the real issues.
He looked down in the street, you were at a small cafe, ordering a huge cup of coffee, that he knew was probably the blackest beverage ever. You liked it that way. But that’s it. You were getting coffee. Sure it was 10:30 pm but like, you couldn’t always just stay at the Manor right ? You’d be bored !
Besides, you were a writer, you often came to get coffee at night with your notebook, you always said it brought you lots of inspiration (he loved your stories, and was your number one beta reader).
It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to be out, getting coffee (even if Gotham was dangerous at night, you knew how to defend yourself thanks to your Husband’s training, and besides, one of your sons kinda always had an eye on you anyway…just to be sure), so again, why were they here ? Why weren’t they on the docks, with Tim and Jason, to fight some real criminals ?
Bruce refused to let Damian patrol alone so far, which is why he was with him, but usually, he’d explain what was going on you know ? Not able to contain himself anymore, Damian asked :
had been cranky the last few weeks.
On it’s own that wasn’t too unusual, Lance got cranky about the
running out of the good face masks and having to use different ones
that Allura gave him. About the mice not being in the mood to play
with him when he wanted. About getting too little sleep. About
getting too much sleep. About an alien he’d never seen before and
never would again rejecting his embarrassing advances.
usually his mood brightened again as quickly as it had soured and
this lasting slump was starting to worry them.
wasn’t the first who’d noticed it, he hardly ever was when it
came to these things. But after Hunk had addressed Lance’s recent
attitude and he’d started to pay attention, the signs couldn’t be
Usually Lance chattered endlessly during their
meals and meetings, now he hardly ever said a word, leaving the group
as soon as he could where he’d despised
being alone for long periods before.
He seemed tense during
training sessions, focused but way too stubborn to really make
anything out of it, the slightest mistake throwing him off for the
whole day. Keith had caught him more than once on the training deck,
using it late into the night, expression hardened and determined.
Hunk or Shiro or, lately, even Allura tried to talk to him he’d put
on a cheery mask and pretend everything was fine before retreating to
the shooting range to utterly destroy every target the ship gave
Keith didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to reach
Lance if not even their most empathetic team members could. He hadn’t
felt this helpless since he heard the reports about the Kerberos
afternoon he was paired up with Lance for hand to hand combat
“That’s – okay, that’s enough”, Lance
spat, squirming helplessly where Keith had him pinned, one hand
tapping a fluttery rhythm against the floor. “I yield! Fuck, I
Keith furrowed his brows, not used to the other boy
this easily, but he still stepped back, offering Lance a hand to help
him get up.
Lance scoffed and slapped the hand away, pushing
himself upright. Frown deepening Keith watched him.
okay?”, he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead. They’d been
sparring for a while already. Where Lance had been almost tenacious
in the beginning the fire in his eyes had subsided with every failed
try to overpower Keith, every time it was him tapping the mat
leveled Keith with an icy glare but instead of getting back into
stance he turned away.
“Leave me alone”, he mumbled before
he left the training
Shiro perked up from where he was pinning Hunk
against the floor, the yellow paladin about to twist free from the
hold and counter it when he also noticed Lance’s retreat.
stepped forward, hands on her hips as she called after him: “Lance!
Lance, we’re not done, where do you think you’re…”
okay!”, Hunk called, having used the distraction to free himself
and scramble to his feet. “It’s okay, I’ll go get him!”
Keith said, body moving before he could even think about it. “I’ll
go, I’ll talk to him…” He could feel their eyes on him,
skeptical and unsure. Could hear the breath Hunk took, the careful
“Um, Keith buddy…”
But he just shook his head, going for
“I got this.”
As expected he found
Lance in his room, already changed halfway out of his armor, the leg
pieces still clinging to his body.
told you to leave me alone”, Lance
mumbled, no emotion to be heard in his voice, but Keith still stepped
further into the
room, arms crossed and face determined.
“Yeah”, he answered,
taking a look at the helmet and armor pieces Lance had put on the
table for now. “But I wanna know what your deal is. You’ve been …
Lance huffed a dry laugh and shook his head.
been…? No. Nothing. No deal, everything’s just …
“Bullshit.” Keith shook his head. “You
can tell Hunk and Shiro that. Because they want to … respect your
privacy or whatever. But something’s wrong. I wanna know
Lance groaned, throwing another armor piece onto the
you can feel even better about yourself? Just
huffed and leaned a hip against the desk, trying to catch Lance’s
gaze but the blue paladin already turned away from him
“Listen”, he began, not quite sure where this
would lead but just going with it for now. “Just because you can’t
beat me at
hand to hand doesn’t mean…”
“Hand to hand? What can
I beat you at
then?”, Lance spat, whirling around to finally meet Keith’s gaze
and there it was again, that fire he’d seen at the beginning of the
training session. “You’re
the amazing pilot, the martial arts expert, the brave one everybody
loves and wants to be like! What else is there, what else … what
else can I contribute?”
you want to be like me?”
“Oh piss off!”, Lance cursed,
turning away again with an exasperated huff. Slowly but surely Keith
began to suspect he really wasn’t the right one for this job, that
he was only making worse. Maybe he should retreat and send one of the
others instead, to settle what he’d done wrong.
… I’m not good at this”, he began, already setting up to excuse
himself when he had an idea. “At uh … talking to people. When
“Oh really…” Lance’s voice was
dripping with sarcasm but Keith pressed on.
“Or just in
general. I just can’t seem to … connect with others. I’m
not good at that. You are.”
Even though Lance’s back was
turned to him Keith could see how he froze, head tilted a little.
Listening. He took his chance and went on.
“Remember when we
were on that desert planet and neither Pidge nor me could convince
the aliens to let us evacuate them? But then you came in and only
needed two minutes with their leader to make them trust us?”
shook his head.
“You were still wearing your helmets, that was
rude to them.”
“Yeah but we didn’t know! We never would
have figured that out if you hadn’t!” Keith took a careful step
forward, around Lance, to look at him again. Some of the tension had
seeped out of the other boy’s shoulders
and his expression wasn’t quite as hardened as before.
mumbled. “You guys would’ve been lost without me.”
would have been!”, Keith insisted, still not sure what he was
doing, only that it seemed
to work at least a little.
“And … and that’s not the
only thing! You’re … you’re a great shot. An incredible shot!
There’s a reason your bayard is a rifle and mine is for close
combat. You’re our long range guy, yeah? You don’t have to beat
me at hand to hand when you can beat me in a shooting competition any
day. And your bond with your lion…”
That was apparently the
wrong thing to say. Lance rolled his eyes and shook his head.
is better. The things Red does for you, it’s crazy…”
god!”, Keith groaned, throwing his arms out. “Stop comparing
yourself to me! You’re your own person! And you bring your own
skills to the team! We all need you and if you can’t see how much
Blue adores you, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought!”
was a pause, Lance squinting at him as if deciding to trust him or
not. Keith stubbornly held the gaze.
“You mean that,
don’t you?”, Lance asked after a while, expression shifting from
suspicious to thoughtful. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth,
biting down on it.
“In case you haven’t noticed”, Keith
said, posture relaxing again. “I’m also a really bad liar.”
huffed another dry laugh at that but the creases around his eyes
vanished as he relaxed.
“You really are”, he smiled
tentatively and Keith couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at him.
Not when he just coaxed a smile out of Lance. The first one in weeks.
Then Lance reached out to take his hand, squeezing it
tightly, and Keith was way too surprised to react. The grip around
his fingers was strong and warm, oddly pleasant.
me”, Lance said, tugging him towards the door without a care in the
world for his half dismantled armor.
“Shooting range”, Lance answered, completely
nonchalant with a little shrug. “Wanna beat your ass at something
Keith snorted but let himself be dragged away. If
that’s all it took to make Lance smile again he’d lose a hundred
shooting competitions against him.
The library was a place you were supposed to be able to go to to study, and usually it was. There was something about sitting by yourself that let you study easier and focus better. Silence filled the library most days and you never had to worry about someone coming and bugging you over something that would be considered a waste of time. That was until you met Jeon Jungkook.
At first he was another one of the bad boys on campus, a title you thought would drop when entering college but somehow persisted for him. He wore it proudly on his chest like the words of others defined who he was without a problem. It was something you had never liked before, but it was different with him. The only reason he had started talking to you in the first place though, was because he had started to crush on your best friend.
The library was a place where you were able to study and learn without anyone bothering you, but it seemed now that Jungkook had started crushing on your best friend, he had recruited you into helping him get her to fall for him. It was like no matter where you ran away to he would always find you and follow you around until you helped him with what he needed.
Sorry this took a while. I was going to put this up yesterday but shit happened and i couldn’t. hope yall don’t mind. Check out my masterlist for the rest of the members.
Kim Taehyung was angry. So very angry. He couldn’t choose why, though. He had so many reasons.
Was it because of the hot weather?Was it because of the pressure of the new album? Was it because of the stress that came with his fame? Was it because of the nagging of his parents? Was it because of his fight with Jungkook? or Jimin or Yoongi? Was it because Bang-pd never seemed to pay him as much attention? Was it because of his girlfriend? because she was too nonchalant? because she wasn’t doting on him all the time like other girls did to their boyfriends? did she even like him? or was she together with him just for the fame? would she break up with him if he ever hit a financial low?
He did not know.
What he did subconsciously know was who he could take that anger out on without too much collateral damage. Not his parents, not his fans, not his band-mates, not his CEO…but you. You would understand, surely? He needed to vent and you were his girlfriend, right? His other half, his lover, his significant other. You loved him, right? You could take his anger for him. You would stroke his head and tell him that he could scream as much as he wanted, as long as he wanted, if it meant dissipating his frustration. The frustration that was eating him up inside. It was like at that moment, his sanity was secured inside an overinflated balloon which could burst anytime and yet, someone or the other would keep blowing air into the balloon. What could he do? He wanted so desperately for this phase to end. Nothing else covered his mind except letting his frustration out so when you entered the bighit headquarters with his take-out, he took it as the perfect opportunity.
You loved your boyfriend.
Granted, you were not as expressive in terms of physical affection in front of people, but that did not mean you didn’t love him. You did. You knew it, he knew it and to you, that is all that mattered. The commentary of the people surrounding the relationship was insignificant for you. You would show him love when you felt it most(which was all the time, really) but you did not deem it necessary to show it in front of people, especially keeping in mind the nature of his job. But you had noticed the shift in his behaviour in the past one month. Closed off, paranoid, stressed and angry were the words you would use to describe his behaviour now instead of adorable, alien-like, jovial, cheerful and happy. He snapped more often than not. He fought with his brother like friends. With you. There was something clearly bothering him and he either did not know how to express it or didn’t want to worry you. So you stepped out of your comfort zone and resorted to showing him how loved he was. You would steal kisses, give him back hugs, encourage him to make love (this always seemed to work the best albeit the effect did not last long) and surprise him with take outs from his favourite restaurant. That is exactly what you were doing today. You had hurried to his workplace, the bighit headquarters, as soon as your lunch break had started in the office, knowing that he would be practicing with the boys. You had his take out in one hand and your overcoat hung around the elbow of your other arm. If the boy felt less loved, god knows that you would do anything to make him feel all the love in the world. He deserved it.
You took large steps despite your outfit- a beige pencil skirt paired with tight maroon quarter sleeves and maroon matte pumps. The nature of your job required you to dress fashionably but formally during work hours. Being a lawyer was as much a job of appearances as it was was of immense hard work, both physical and psychological. After all, appearances have a great psychological impact, do they not?
The corners of your mouth lifted into a light smile as you opened the doors of the practice room to find three men sprawled out on the floor out of pure exhaustion and one sitting on the corner chair; his face blank, his eyes glazed.
Your smile changed into a worried frown as soon as you saw him. He was clearly more disturbed than usual. Had something happened? Nontheless, you forced a smile on your face as you shut the door behind you and moved towards him. He didn’t need more negativity around him.
“Hi noona! Is that food?” Jungkook said as soon as he spotted the carry-bag in your hand. Jimin and Hoseok soon followed suit as the they got up from their positions and sat down on the floor, still lacking the energy to stand. Jungkook was young, though. He got up and in a flash he was in front of you, blocking your way and rummaging through the food- until you slapped his hands away, that is.
“Ow! That hurt!” He pouted.
You ruffled his hair, gave him a playful glare and said as you turned around him to go towards Taehyung, “Go fetch your own, kid.”
“Tch, you guys are gross.” Jungkook called after you as he went back to lie down with his hyungs.
You rolled your eyes but continued walking towards your boyfriend.
Hope he likes what I got him.
He knew it. He knew it for sure now. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? You had always been too friendly with the maknae, ruffling his hair and pinching his cheeks as he turned bright red. He had just not thought much of it because you were both family and you wouldn’t do that to him, right? Only now he realised how wrong he was. You were cheating on him with his brother! He grit his teeth at the thought.
How dare you?
He looked up to take in your appearance as you stood in front of him, your coat in one arm and food in the other. He looked you up and down, the tight maroon quarter sleeves covered your torso just right, exposing the right amount of cleavage. Your pencil skirt hugged your small waist perfectly and moved down till your knees, revealing your beautiful legs. He moved his eyes back towards your face as he took in your hair and how it was open, flowing beautifully down your back in long waves.
God, you were breathtakingly beautiful.
He felt his anger dissipate a little as he took in your appearance, feeling himself calm down at your presence only for it to increase a hundred-fold as the image of Jungkook gripping your hair tight while he fucked you senseless made a very vivid appearance in his mind. His mind went blank and red covered his eyes as he completely tuned out your words as you set up his lunch. He pulled you up by your elbow harshly, hardly registering the shocked expression on your face, and whacked you right across your face with strength he did not know he possessed.
You should have noticed it the moment you entered the practice room, the feral look in his eyes. Maybe you even did. But you were too blinded with hope and confidence. You thought that maybe, if you show him how much you care for him, he would slowly open up and share his problems with you.
But you knew now, as you stood gripping the arm of the chair with one hand and your cheek with the other, with Hoseok standing in front of you, shielding you from…your boyfriend and Jimin consoling you by circling his hand on your back and whispering words in your ears that you did not hear at all, that it was a futile attempt.
You let out shaky breaths and grit your teeth as you closed your eyes tightly to avoid thinking about anything at all.
“___, shh, don’t cry. I’m so sorry, it’ll be okay.” Jimin repeatedly said in your ears in an effort to console you.
You eyes flew open. You were crying? You removed your hands from your cheek and the chair simultaneously as you stood up straight. Ignoring the blood on your hand, which was surely from your aching lip, you brought it just below your eyes as you felt the wetness.
You were crying.
It was as if the ballon had burst and in turn, flipped a switch within him. His anger had all but disappeared when he hit you. In it’s place now, was confusion. He was pushed back into the wall, away from you by Jungkook as Jimin hurried to you to see the extent of the damage. Hoseok stood in front of you facing Taehyung, acting as a shield between you and him. But why would he do that? Why would he act as a shield between you and him? He was your boyfriend, he loved you and he had hit-
Taehyung’s heart dropped as he realised why Hoseok stood between you and him.
He had hit you.
“You bastard, how dare you hit a woman?” Hoseok growled under his breath.
Taehyung tried to back away but Jungkook held him in place staring at him with a scandalized expression on his face. “Hyung..w-why?”
Taehyung looked down at his hands with widened eyes as he tried to remember what had gotten him so angry in the first place. Was it something about you and Jungkook or you and Jimin? He couldn’t remember. It was absurd no matter how many times he thought about it. You could never cheat on him. You loved him, he knew it. He closed his eyes as the tears made their way down his face. Suddenly, he felt drained of all energy. It was as if he had been feeling too much lately and he was tired of all the emotions. His back touched the wall and he slid down until he was sitting on the floor, not caring about the tears staining his practice clothes.
“It’s okay Jimin, I’m fine. I’m leaving.”
Taehyung’s energy made a shocking appearance as his eyes flew open at your broken announcement and with the speed of a bullet train, he rushed forward and grabbed your hand.
“___, wh-where are you going? Co-come with me, okay? I’m really sor-”
He was interrupted when you put your right hand up, silencing him.
“Kim Taehyung.” Your eyes were red as you looked right at him. holding yourself together somehow. “We are done. I’ll have moved out by the time you reach home.” And you yanked your hands out of his grip and left the room in the big, long strides you had come in.
Taehyung just stood there in shock. It was as if a thousand bricks had been cemented around his legs and the power of moving his hands and legs had all but abandoned him. He watched you, as you left the building, got in your car and drove away, leaving him for good.
Only then, did he find the strength to turn around in desperation, to his hyung. He stumbled towards Hoseok, eyes flooding with tears as he held on to his hyung’s t-shirt and sobbed in his chest.
“Hy-hyung..what do I do? I-I can’t live without her. P-Please hyung, do something! PLEASE!”
Hoseok removed Taehyung’s grip from his t-shirt as he said the words Taehyung feared the most.
“There’s nothing to be done, Taehyung-ah. You hit your own girl. She’s not coming back and dare I say…you deserve it.”
so that’s it. I’ve left an open ending for reasons I do not know, it just felt right. hope everyone enjoys reading this. Hoseok version will come up next- when, I do not know.
I will repeat this again, it is never ever okay to hit someone. For anyone who is in an abusive relationship, I am so sorry. I hope you can come out of it and I hope you get all the happiness in the world because you deserve it.
Request : Hiiii can you make a Jeff Adkins smut where he gets jealous because your talking to Zach? Idk lol if you want to😊
A/n: Hey yo was goodie guys is your girl back with another smut this request was lowkey fun to write idk why but anyways thank you so much for over 500 reads on need a hand and 330+ followers I honestly feel like this was a shitty imagine because it was rushed because i have finals so I’m sorry if you don’t like it I promise not to suck so bad for the next one. Anyways if you’re waiting on the Jason imagine or the rest I’ll try to get them all in before next weekend key word try because finals have me pulling my hair out.
Warnings:Smut sin sin sin more sin just you know sin eating out , slight dominance coming from Jeff? jealousy you know the usual. Also they are juniors in this imagine so
You and Jeff had never been the fighting type if you guys had a problem you would talk it out in a mature non-violent way. Lately things have changed Jeff wanted to argue with you about the littlest things. When you took to long to answer his messages because you were taking a shower or too busy doing homework. When you didn’t spend enough time with him. When you didn’t show up to his baseball practices. Little things that never bothered Jeff before now let’s not get it twisted you loved spending time with Jeff after all he is your boyfriend for a reason but lately you both have been so stressed and busy looking at colleges and preparing for the SATs that you guys had no time for each other.
Junior year is a stressful year you both knew and understood each other or at least you thought you did out of nowhere Jeff started acting really possessive and weird towards you. You tried talking to him but he wouldn’t budge to tell you what’s been on his mind. You decided to go to his baseball practice since he was complaining the whole week that you hadn’t gone. It was Friday and honestly all you wanted to do was go home and sleep but you decided to come support your boyfriend. You were making your way towards the field when you spotted your friend Zach .
“Hey y/n” he said as he spotted you
“ oh hey Zach ” you said hugging
“Where are you going ?” He asked
“ I’m gonna go watch Jeff practice you know I have to support the boyfriend ” I say giggling
“ ah I’m heading there too I’m waiting for Bryce you want me to walk you ? ” he asks
“ yea sure why not ” I say smiling
We walk together into the bleachers laughing at dumb jokes zach is making. When we reach the bleachers I look to the field and spot Jeff looking at me I smiled and wave but he just ignored me or maybe he didn’t see me. I shrug it off and take a seat in the bleachers watching the practice until is over. When the coach blows the whistle I run up to the field and hug Jeff he doesn’t return the hug instead he mutters and awkward hi. I give him a concerned look but he just shoves past me going to the locker rooms to change. I decided this needed to stop and I should talk to him. I start walking to the car deciding to wait for him there. A couple of minutes later Jeff comes in the car throwing his duffel bag on the back seat and putting the key in the ignition.
“ Are you coming over today? ” he asks not even looking at me
“ As a matter of facts yes I am there’s obviously something we need to talk about ” Waving my hands In front of me to emphasize my point.
“ I don’t know what you mean there’s nothing to talk about ” he says as he starts to drive to his house. I stay quiet for the rest of the ride.
When we arrived at his house he opened the door letting me in first Jeff might be mad at me and act like a dick sometime but he never looses his manners. I rush upstairs to his room throwing myself on his bed and letting out a frustrated groan. I feel the bed tip and he lays besides me. He grips my waist but I pull away from his hold.
“ what’s wrong babe ?” He says coming closer.
“ I should ask you the same thing since you decided to be a dick one second and then a sweetheart the next” I say standing up and going over to sit in his computer chair.
He start walking towards me he grabs a hold of my wrist and pulls me up pushing our bodies together. I try to get out his grip but it’s not very useful since he’s stronger than me. He pulls me towards the bed and throws me on it.
Pinning me down he starts kissing my collar bone and he whispers “ Do you want to know why I’ve been so moody lately ” he nibbles on my neck
“ Well I mean it’s not like I’ve been asking for the past 2 weeks now ” sarcasm dripping from my voice he might have me pinned down and it’s slowly turning me on but there’s always room for sarcasm.
He cups my face kissing me roughly “ you’ve been spending so much time with Zach the little giggles here and there , laughing at his jokes , hugging him ” he says with a husky tone. “ do you think I don’t notice oh sweetheart , baby girl you have a lot coming if you think you can play with me like that ” he says attacking my collar bone again.
He sucks on my neck harshly marking me moan. He makes his way down my body slowly teasing me. He suddenly rips my shirt and I gasp.
“OMG ARE YOU SERIOUS THAT SHIRT WAS TWELVE DOLLARS” I say looking at my now ripped shirt.Jeff only smirks and continues kissing down my body.He reaches the hem of my skirt and pulls it off in one swift movement.My heart beats faster as the heat between my legs starts increasing.
He moves his hands trailing them up and down my bare legs admiring them.I had to admit that would be kind of cute if i wasn’t so eagered for his touch.
He comes back up kissing me passionately and pulls me up to unclasp my bra, He slides it down my hands and throws it across the room.He kisses down my bare stomach reaching the hem of my panties grabbing the elastic and letting it go so it emits a sound.
He pulls my panties down slowly tormenting me and throws them across the room joining my bra.He starts kissing on my thighs and I close my legs rubbing them together to create some friction Jeff smirks and pulls them apart coming closer to my core but not yet touching it. I feel his breathing hit my spot and I shiver from anticipation.He suddenly licks a stripe parting my lips apart and a loud moan fall from my mouth.
“Jeff stop teasing babe” I said whining
“Tell me what you want then” he says rising and eyebrow
“ I want you to do something” I said whining again
“ and that something is “ he says moving his hand over my thighs
“ I want you to fuck me with your mouth” I say frustrated “Is that what you wan- OH MY GOD” I couldn’t even finish my sentence he plunged his tongue into me cravingly exploring my insides like his life depended on it.
My hips bucked upward from the pleasure as moans escaped my mouth here and there.I grabbed onto his hair pulling it slightly and he moaned into my core making a waveof pleasure run through my body, I felt on cloud nine with his mouth working wonder as he gripped my thighs forcefully trying to keep me steady.My eyes rolled back from the pleasure, I could hear myself gasping slowly every time he moved his tongue. He was writing words or maybe the alphabet at this point I couldn’t tell. His appetite didn’t seem to be satisfied every taste he had made him want more.
His greed, urgency and desire all came together to form a combination I couldn’t explain.I felt myself coming closer as pure bliss kicked in a harmony of melodies falling from my mouth along with some curse words. Jeff plunging his tongue into me ,drawing patterns and pulling me closer all of that combined pushed me to the edge and I felt a wave of rhapsody run through me I slowly rode out my high thrusting my hips upward as Jeff wiped me clean.
He stood up with a satisfied smirk wiping the corners of his mouth coming closer to my face .He kissed my forehead “ you “ he kissed my left cheek “ know” he kissed my right cheek “ I’m” he kissed my chin “ greedy “ he kissed my lips passionately “ and that I hate sharing baby so why do you push me “ he says smirking.
“ I don’t Mr.Atkins” I say in between pants
He pulls me up by me hair and whispers “ you know you’re mine “
“ I’m all yours my greedy man” I say pulling him in for a kiss.