Bucky: Most of the time you were awoken by Bucky himself shifting around in the bed, and petting the dog who managed to place himself on top of both yours and Bucky’s legs. The Great Dane seemed to think he was a small lap dog, and tended to do whatever was necessary to reach Bucky’s hand that was willing to scratch his ears. The next thing you always took notice of was the creases in your face from having your cheek pressed to his bare shoulder all night. Which also explained how your hair became a tangled mess, and one with Bucky’s long hair. But the overall best thing was Bucky’s sleepy face; hooded eyes, and a smirk that could make your pants fly across the room. Not to mention the raspy, sleepy voice that you adored more than anything. Waking up next to Bucky is the best place to be in the world.
Steve: It seemed like he donned a halo each and every morning that the sun came shining through the window panes of your bedroom. Even on grey mornings, Steve seemed to have an aura about his sleeping body that brought a smile to your face. Every morning you reach out to brush your hands over his cheeks, then place a kiss on his nose before he wakes up only to pull you closer. One thing nobody really knew about him was that his body temperature was so out of whack, so most nights he spent only sleeping in boxers because he was so warm. (Not that you minded one bit) Steve also really enjoyed having the news on in the morning once the both of you were awake, because this way he knew what was going on in the world all while having you in his arms.
Natasha: Since Natasha absolutely despises being sweaty, she “fixed” the thermostat in your room to always be a chilly 65 degrees. So waking up next to her, more like on top of her, is the best part of the day. Both you and Natasha are always bundled up with plush blankets that have been collected from various missions, and presents from over the years. To be honest, your bed could win a competition of the comfiest in the Avengers tower. But waking up next to the Black Widow was incomparable, red hair splayed out on the white pillow case, face scrunched from the dreams she was having. It was rare for you to wake up before her, since Nat’s wake up time was normally about 5 am. But either way, being with Natasha was the greatest time in your life.
Thor: The giant teddy bear you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend was the best cuddler of all time. No one could ever come close to his soft skin and big arms pulling you to his side. However, Thor always ended up naked in the middle of the night, even if the previous night’s activities weren’t all that crazy. You often climbed on top of him and used his whole body as the bed, because he was honestly the comfiest person ever. He beat the bed’s comfort level by a long shot. If not for his horrible morning breath attacking your nose every damn morning, you would stay sprawled out on him all day. Thor adored seeing your sleepy face every morning, which gained you even more cuddles and kisses.
Bruce: He had developed a habit of scrunching himself into a ball while he slept. Bruce felt secure this way, and small enough to keep his destructive nature contained so he couldn’t hurt anyone. But the truth is, he hated it. He wanted to stay spread out so he could hold you, but his constant inner conflict kept him balled up. You always tried to lay on top him, hoping to keep him in one place for the duration of the night. It never worked, because you always ended up rolling off of him in your sleep. Which then started the chain reaction of him giving in to the reflex and curling up into a ball. It happened every night, without fail. Bruce craved contact with you, though, so he grabbed your hand and held it close to his heart. Waking up every morning without feeling in your hand became regular, because he gripped it in his sleep so unbelievably tight, like he was holding on to you for dear life.
Tony: If Tony is sharing a bed with anyone, there’s a 1000% chance there will be physical contact involved through the entirety of the night. You developed this theory when you had woken up early one morning, with one half of your body almost overheating and the other half cold enough to snap off. Feeling the steady rise and fall of Tony’s chest against your back, you looked over and realized that he had you locked in a bear hug. One of his arms were always tucked around your waist, and the other was underneath your torso, hand gently gripping the side of your stomach. Tony’s embrace is so unbelievably warm, in contrast to the below freezing temperature of his room. It feels like a furnace during the winter, so warm and so comforting. Comforting enough to keep your restlessness at bay until Tony woke up.
Peter: Sometimes when he came home from long missions in the city, he totally forgets to take off the spider-man suit. So this lead to you making sure that Tony upgraded his suit to the most comfortable material, not only on the inside for peter but on the outside as well. It was a gamble every morning on who would be where, since he formed a habit of flying out of the bed. You tried your best to prevent him from going anywhere, mostly by smushing your face into his neck and hooking your arms around his muscular frame. This usually guaranteed that he wouldn’t be flying anywhere, but there were slip ups. Sometimes, though, the placement shifted and he ended up nuzzled into your side. It was your favorite way to wake up, with his unusually warm body pressed against yours. So you loved to wake up with a faceful of warmth, and Peter.
Pietro: Since you were the closest thing Pietro had to a pillow, you always woke up with his head resting somewhere on your body, his hair tickling your skin. It woke you up every morning, without fail. Sometimes, he had planted his face on your chest, and lazily thrown an arm around your torso. Other times, he had his head on your stomach, absentmindedly rubbing small circles everywhere he could reach, the monotony putting him back to sleep. Most times however, Pietro had his head on top of your boobs, talking about how comfortable boobs are while you were lowkey suffocating. There was even one occurrence when he had completely flipped himself over the opposite end of the bed and had placed his head on your thigh. But it didn’t matter where he had ended up, you always cracked a sleepy smile and ran your fingers through his hair until he woke up.
Scott: This man child always woke up at least an hour before you did, there was never a time when he didn’t. You would have thought that he would just get out of bed and let you sleep. But no, he stayed put on his side of the bed and intently studied your face. Scott admired you like you were a piece in an art gallery. His eyes were drawn to the arch of your nose, then to the soft curvature of your cheekbones. You were in such a peaceful state when you were asleep, it was more than just beautiful. Well, to be fair, Scott thought you were beautiful under any circumstances. Sometimes he would just blurt out how pretty you were when heading home from missions, covered in sweat and blood. But there was just something about when your face was reminiscent of the peace that came with sleep that made you glow. When you finally cracked your eyes open, you immediately met his and uttered a raspy ‘good morning’, causing him to smile like a goof.
Loki: Personal space was very important to Loki. It didn’t matter that you had been sharing a bed with him for as long as either of you could remember. If Loki didn’t want physical contact, then that was that. You still were the only exception, however. Every evening, you would climb onto your respective half of the bed and get cozy, and wait for Loki to do the same. You never pressed him into any type of cuddling or anything, because you knew that you would make your way over to his side of the bed eventually. It always happened, and Loki never complained. He tried to keep the fact that he really enjoyed your cuddles a secret, but that was the one thing he couldn’t hide behind the facade. You discovered his “secret” when you woke up one early morning and buried your face in his hair, and pressed into his back. Instead of gently pushing you back to your half of the bed, he reached behind him, grabbed your arm, and brought it over his torso. Nothing could melt your heart more than that.
Clint: For some odd reason, unbeknownst to the two of you, you were both on the same exact sleeping schedule. The two of you became used to being sleepy at the same times, and opening your eyes at the same time as well. Throughout the night, Clint would wrap his arms around you, and you in turn would knit your legs together with his. The two of you would basically become human pretzels all while sleeping. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, and found that entangling his limbs with yours was the best way, without you two literally fusing together. That’s when waking up at the exact same time was good, because you could spend some time giggling and reclaiming limbs without waking the other. Honestly, you two were so enamored with each other it almost made everyone else sick, but you two were as happy as ever.
Wanda: Wanda’s room is undoubtedly the most cute and comfiest room in the whole building. Starting with the fact that it’s always at a perfect seventy degrees. The pillows are memory foam, the blankets are fleece, and Wanda is the perfect size to cuddle. So it was a given that you would sleep together in her room. In the mornings, the only thing that would wake the two of you was Steve’s incessant pestering about training. He would periodically knock on the door, open it and peek his head in, reminding the two of you that ‘you can sleep after practice’. Wanda just groans and cuddles deeper into your side, while you cover your face with another pillow, effectively tuning him out. Mornings with Wanda felt like a dream, because you never felt more peaceful with anyone else.
A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And the quotes are from my own Faking It series, in case anyone was curious. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO
“You knew he didn’t quite understand why you found it so hot, but Dean had never seen himself leaning over the engine in a tight, sweaty t-shirt, hands and forearms covered in grease as he worked.”
Dean’s outside working on the Impala, and you’re reading fics about just that. Apparently, Dean working on the Impala is the hottest thing to ever grace the fandom (aside from his lips…and his green eyes…and his cocky swagger that is really just hiding adorable and unnecessary insecurity…and Jesus, these people are thorough), and you’re curious. In your actual experience with Dean, working on the Impala is just a nuisance. You have to wait longer to get on the road, Dean takes forever to scrub himself clean afterward, and for the next few hours, everything smells like metal and oil covered up by motel soap. Why do people find that so hot?
Could you possibly do headcannons of how the RFA members (+ V and Saeran) kiss their s/o's neck? (Love your blog! ♡♡♡)
Thank you! I hope you enjoy this! (WARNING: mentions of the sex in Saeyoung’s and small mention of blood in Saeran’s)
✮ is super shy
✮ little kitten kisses ✮ holds your shoulders gently ✮ loves to press his nose against your pulse ✮ really enjoys smelling your perfume ✮ when things get hotter his hands are groping at your hips to pull you closer ✮ he begins to bite and lick but he’s still gentle ✮ he’s more of a sub ✮ pants against the skin of your neck while things get heavy ✮ he grazes the edge of his teeth along your skin ✮ doesn’t really leaves marks unless he’s trying to prove something
✎ only kisses your neck after things are a bit heavier ✎ as in ✎ doesn’t casually just kiss your neck ✎ is also really soft ✎ pulls her lips around your skin while pressing her chest to yours ✎ her face in your neck works mostly as a distraction for the both of you ✎ likes the further back parts of your neck ✎ like behind your ear ✎ doesn’t really bite ✎ licks when things are building up during the sexy times ✎ she just really likes feeling your skin ✎ along with the proof of exertion ✎ also doesn’t leave marks (it’s unprofessional)
✿ is probably obsessed with your neck ✿ loves to watch the muscles tense under his lips ✿ he definitely likes biting you ✿ his licks and nibbles are heavy and full of heat ✿ LOVES leaving marks on you ✿ it’s a turn on for him ✿ so he loves to just tilt your head back ✿ and attack your neck ✿ so that everyone will know you belong to him ✿ likes holding your hair while doing it because he can move your neck however he pleases ✿ likes to gently kiss and nuzzle hickies after he’s made them because he’s a loser ✿ won’t bite hard enough to break the skin though - you’re too precious
₩ likes the lower part of your neck more ₩ like around your collarbones ₩ loves the feel of your skin against the bone ₩ while he kisses it ₩ and licks in the bow of it when it’s presents ₩ sometimes he even pulls on your shoulders so that your clavicle becomes prominent ₩ sometimes bites it but not too hard ₩ because that shit would probably hurt (it’s b o n e) ₩ he only leaves marks on your upper chest/cleavage ₩ because only he should be seeing there ₩ unless he gets really possessive ₩ then he sucks all over your neck and just leaves all the marks
⌨ boi ⌨ how things go down with saeyoung really depends on the mood ⌨ sometimes he just butterfly kisses up your throat ⌨ but other times your neck is just one big fuckin bruise ⌨ his favourite area is the end of your jaw ⌨ between your jawbone and ear ⌨ he’s kind of obsessed with it tbh ⌨ sucks on it harshly and presses his tongue down flat ⌨ after deepthroating him he likes to gently kiss the outside of your throat ⌨ like a ‘thank you’ ⌨ he likes to trail kisses from your neck to your shoulder- where it turns to bites ⌨ he holds your back so you can’t squirm away from him
☼ this nugget is so gentle ☼ he will not bite you unless you specifically ask him and then assure him that’s what you want ☼ he just really likes kissing you everywhere ☼ so when he’s spreading kisses over your throat they’re opened mouth and breathy ☼ it’s really sensual and nice ☼ kinda hovers his lips over your skin before each kiss ☼ letting out a content sigh against your warm skin ☼ before admiring it with his mouth ☼ is really shy with his tongue ☼ at first you can tell he’s nervous ☼ because just the tip sneaks out to poke at your neck ☼ but with your little mewls he gets assured
⚠︎ this BOI ⚠︎ hoo ⚠︎ your neck ⚠︎ it’s basically his property ⚠︎ hope you like turtlenecks because that’s all you can wear with this boy around ⚠︎ unless you like people getting worried about all the marks and literal WOUNDS on your neck ⚠︎ he bites ⚠︎ like, breaking skin bite ⚠︎ licks it to make it up to you ⚠︎ also to clean up the blood ⚠︎ sucks and bites everywhere ⚠︎ he’s less of a kisser ⚠︎ only when he’s feeling super duper extra affectionate ⚠︎ will he kiss your neck ⚠︎ when he does kiss it, it’s mostly along your jawbone ⚠︎ I don’t even know how to describe this damn guy ⚠︎ honestly, i hope you’re kind of a masochist because ouch
I’m still working on how to write V and Saeran, so I hope this was okay ♡♡
Description: You run into your ex-boyfriend while at a party with your current one and during the encounter are reminded of all the ways he still controls you. You aren’t entirely surprised to find yourself on your knees in the bathroom with him in front of you minutes later.
A/N: @avveh prepare to die. I think I listened to The Weeknd the entire time I wrote this haha. Some of the songs were played over 100 times just during the time I wrote this, particularly “Shameless”, “Earned It”, and “Often”.
request? yes “Saw that you said you wrote for 13rw and I just had to request. Can you do an imagine where the reader and Montgomery are best friends and the reader is Justin’s little sister so when the mom’s boyfriend beats her she goes to Montgomery and he comforts her and more fluff? Thank you ! “
pairing(s): justin x sister!reader , montgomery x reader (platonic)
warnings: plenty of cussing
a/n: i couldn’t find any other gifs so that was the best i could find, oops. have a request? click here
That’s what you can feel surrounding you, along with the tightness pulling you in, holding you in place. It’s safe. It’s calming. The scent of him filled your nose each and every time you inhaled. The familiar smell of whiskey, leather and a hint of spearmint gum that he was chewing an hour ago.
His heart beat is steady in your left ear. Its a friendly reminder that he’s here; alive beneath you just like you need him to be. His index finger is tracing circles on the small of your back, assuring you that you had all the time in the world to lay together in complete silence.
You wouldn’t dare admit to Dean that you loved these moments more than you should. They were a rare occurrence already; only after a tough hunt would you both take comfort in holding each other. The next day, you would pretend that nothing ever happened. He was a badass hunter and you were the strong independent girl who didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her. It was a terrifying thought that deep down you needed a man like Dean Winchester to hold you to make you feel safe.
You don’t need anyone Y/N. You can take care of yourself.
But you knew that as long as Dean held you. As long as you felt him engulfing you into him. You were letting your walls down and allowing him in; allowing yourself to fall for a man that would never fall back.
His arms wrapped tighter around you. “You okay?” he whispered.
How were you supposed to answer that? ‘Yes Dean, I’m fine except for the fact that I love having your arms around me and I never want you to let go.’
“I won’t then,” he stated. He placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“Did I say that out loud?” you muttered.
“Yes,” he breathed out. “I never want you to let go either.” You buried your face in his chest, mostly to hide how red your cheeks were. It didn’t stop you from gripping him tighter in the process.
You kicked the duvet off yourself and pushed your hair away from your forehead, catching the mirror of the moon on the line of your wrist. It began with a little thought at 11PM – just a salacious bedtime story for you to fall asleep. You expected it to remain as such, until the thought swelled into something a lot more, swelled directly into the pit of your stomach, and between your thighs. It would’ve been an easy job done, any other day. It would’ve only taken you to shuffle off your pyjama bottoms and spread yourself across the mattress, but there was a problem. There was Michael.
Michael slept in the room beside you, probably fast asleep as the night shied into 3AM. You were caught up watching a film, and before you knew, it was too late for him to head home. The walls were paper thin, which meant he would probably hear every sound you make if you were to try and relieve yourself. Your stomach tightened its knot once you let the whisper of his image into your mind. He would be shirtless, as he slept – entwined in your bed sheets, bed sheets that you have slept in before. You hoped he knew – you hoped your scent was still on the pillow, and touched his naked chest and kissed his sleeping face. You knew yourself he wouldn’t think so profoundly about every little thing about you as you did him. He was the goddamn reason you couldn’t sleep – the secret you kept to yourself as you dreamed of him pressing his lips down in places he’d never seen of yours.
Staring up at the ceiling, you bite your lip, playing with the waistband of your pyjamas and snapping it against your hipbone. It was one swift movement, when you pulled them off your ankles and opened your legs up, leaving your cheeks flushed, your thighs smeared with your own wetness, and the air from the window cracked ajar erupting hairs across your lower half. You told yourself you wouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t – it was too risky, having him less than five large strides away from your room. It was funny how you persisted to tell yourself not to, while your fingers teased down past your navel and between your thighs.
When your middle finger met your clit, your teeth met your bottom lip. It was already wet, from dragging up from your slit, and you sighed, reaching your arm beneath your pillow as you stretched into your own touch. Michael swept into your mind behind your closed eyes, how the softness of his voice could be lulling you into a state of daze. You released the tension you held over your clit and flicked the pad of your finger over the small bud, your riposte a buck of the hips and a strung out whine. Pushing your face into the pillow, you slid your finger across your slit, biting your lip and shutting your eyes as you curled a digit into yourself. Holding your breath, you thrust your finger in and out slowly, then picked up pace once you were wet enough to let you put another in if you wanted. A deep pump choked a thick moan out of you, and having moved your head from the pillow, it fell into you room – open, lewd, and shameless.
You didn’t bother to hide yourself, and the dream of Michael consumed you hard enough for you to nearly pull the sheets off your bed in your delight. Moving your finger out from inside you, a dull sense of pleasure blossomed into your stomach, and your eyes half-lidded opened to meet your bedroom door – now swung open completely in contrast to the small crack you left before – with Michael, standing with a thumb hanging out of the pocket in his sweatpants and an expression you couldn’t quite read in the darkness. Your cheeks felt hot, and you froze, brain not working quick enough to pull the duvet over your naked legs.
“Michael, what the fuck?” you finally said after a while, and he shook his head, reaching over and turning on the light. It sent your eyes out of focus, but you ripped the duvet of yourself and held it there. An eyebrow raised, an amused grin spread his lips. You couldn’t look him in the eye. That couldn’t have just happened. Oh, my God. “Don’t you knock? The door was closed!”
“I heard you saying my name.” He offered a one armed shrug, leaning against your doorway and gracing his gaze on you, unmoving. You kept your head turned, mostly so he couldn’t see the sweat shining over your warm face. He stepped into your room, and closed the door. “Now, you’ve woken me up.”
You closed your eyes, inhaled, and placed your hand on the crown of your forehead, trying to calm your breathing as much as you could. His voice was so soft. It was sleepy and gentle, words slurring over each other and clashing, although his gaze was wide and awake. He ambled over, and sat on the bed, right beside your legs, which were luckily hidden beneath the quilt. You tried making yourself feel better of the situation at hand. Everyone masturbates. It’s normal. Michael probably got walked in on by someone, too. Just, unfortunately, not you.
“Go to bed, Michael.” You leaned over to pick up your pyjama bottoms from the side of the bed, right beside where the bed dipped in favour of Michael. He touched your waist, and you were close enough to him to hear him release a deep breath once his fingers met your spine. Your hand trembled when it fell on top of your missing clothes, and you turned your face; his breath met your cheek. “Michael…”
“Y/N.” He moved closer, managing to wrap his arm around you, now. His nose bumped your cheek, and you closed your eyes, smelling the sleep and shower gel clinging to his skin. Your hand faltered by your pyjama bottoms, and you rested it somewhere nearby – which happened to be Michael’s thigh. You nearly moved it away, but he kept it there with his own hand. “Come on. I heard you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You had your finger all pressed up in your–”
“Michael,” you stopped him, but didn’t shift from his grip. “You can’t – don’t tease me like this.”
An airy laugh left his mouth. “You’re getting wet again, aren’t you?” The hand he had atop yours released, and he found your bare leg beneath the covers. It travelled to spread your knees, and you shivered under his cold hands. “I want to touch you, Y/N. I wanna make you feel better than you thought I could.”
You pursed your lips as his hand slid up your calf and touched the soft skin on your thigh. “Please. If you aren’t going to finish me off, don’t make me want you to.”
He laughed gently, the sound rumbling from his throat into a quiet breath. “Who said I wasn’t going to?”
When you turned your head, you kissed. It was impulsive. It was hot. Your hand moved up his neck and into his hair, like you knew your way around him perfectly without a second thought. His thumbs pushed your face up so he wouldn’t spend a single second not kissing you, and your mind was consumed with him. You remembered earlier in the evening, when it begun to rain, and the windows were covered in teary drops, how you sat so close to him, with your fingers barely touching, and neither of you daring to look away from the screen and at each other. It was an immature game you played, where you couldn’t admit to something as simple as a little crush, and now you were in your bed, spread across the mattress with the same boy holding you. Pushing the duvet away from the two of you, he shifted between your legs, parting from your mouth to peer down at your bare hips on his clothed.
“Jesus,” he whispered, and lifted up the hem of your shirt so he could run his fingers over the soft flesh of your stomach. Shivering, you inhaled, the scent of yourselves mixed together flooding you. His fingers, as usual, were cold, and pressed carefully and unfamiliarly across your body. His eyes flicked up to meet yours – green and dancing, rejoicing at the sight of you. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to be this close to you? Hmm?”
He slid both hands to the back of your thighs, and gripped you close to him, his mouth finding the column of your throat and embellishing it with wet kisses that made your head twirl. You sighed, whether out of delight or pure relief of having Michael here, you weren’t sure, and said, “too long.”
His lips met the flesh between your jaw and your throat, and you took in a sharp breath, your hand travelling up the muscles across his back and playing with the shirt covering them. Cupping your hips, you felt him smile against your skin, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling, too. This is Michael, you reminded yourself, stretching your arms out across the mattress and closing your eyes, feeling him move away from your neck before capturing your mouth for a kiss once again. This is all you’ve wanted, and more. You didn’t need to tell yourself – you knew. He knew. It wasn’t much of a secret to either of you.
Carefully, he sat up, and you followed suit, your legs split between his hips. You both went to reach for the hem of his shirt at the same time, and when your gazes met, you let out a soft laugh, kneeling to tug it off his head. The backs of your fingers swept against his chest, and he bit his lip, pulling you in enough for your hands to grip his shoulders to keep balance. You watched each other, and everything was registering in your brain slowly, savouring every glance, every moment, every brush of skin between you. Your palms moved over his milky white chest, and you leaned back a little, enough to see the shy blush rising in his cheeks.
“Your hands feel nice,” he said gently, setting his own over yours. You stopped, but he pushed them down, letting you familiarise yourself with him, letting you map over the cities in his skin, the countries on his collarbones, and the stars in his eyes. You could hear the wind spreading the curtains apart, and your reached around his waist, nearing yourself to him. His fingers found your hair. “You’re so pretty, you know? The prettiest. You’re the prettiest.”
Smiling, you pulled back, tracing your finger along the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re such a charmer.”
“Only for you.”
Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t hide the heat spreading beneath your face. Lifting your shirt up, you threw it off the side of the bed, where it met Michael’s. Your breasts were bare, and met the cool air in your room between your chest and his. He kissed you one more time, laying you down with his fingers resting at the bottom of your back. Your legs wrapped around him, and he pecked across your collarbones, his lips hovering over your breast. His breath hardened your nipples, and you pushed his dark hair away from his forehead, regarding his eyes as you nodded at him, and he kissed over your chest gently. He made sure to be tentative, gouging your reaction with every move so he knew you were enjoying it. His lips were petal soft, and covered your nipples perfectly, slowly running down your stomach and onto your thighs. You pressed them together, not to block him, but to ease the tension between them. His palm slid beneath your hips, the other parting your legs between him. It was then you realised you were even wetter than ever.
He raised a smug eyebrow at you, and you flushed. “So wet already?” he said.
Biting your lip, you didn’t break his gaze. “I was touching myself before, remember?”
“And whom were you thinking about?”
Your eyes shifted along his face, and you smiled coyly, your fingers meeting his on your hipbone. He still had his right hand resting on your inner thigh, now lying on his stomach with his mouth achingly close to your centre. His tongue travelled along your centre, and you bit harder down on your lip, taking a fistful of the bed sheets in your hand. He took your clit in your mouth, playing with it and pulling back once again. You exhaled, tangling your hand in his hair to pull him closer to you, but he resisted, adamant at going at his own pace, to tease and fulfil every fibre in you aching for him. His tongue swirled over your sex, and you felt his spit run down between your thighs and he tasted you.
Every moment of pressure he placed on your clit, your legs tried relaxing and pressing together, but he kept them open, his thumbs drawing circles on your skin. A knot blossomed into your stomach and you moaned, gritting your teeth and lifting your hips off the bed, attempting to grind onto his mouth. It was a futile effort, and you both knew that. He had full control over you, and you absolutely loved it. Tugging back, he licked your clit gently, and when you glanced down, his eyes were locked on yours, daring you to do something. Daring you to cum before he lets you do so. You hold your breath, keeping yourself back until he tells you you’re allowed to cum. It was an unspoken rule, but his stance and approach already let you know he wanted your orgasm to belong to him.
“Fuck, oh, Michael–” You failed saying his name coherently, and your mouth stuttered. “Mikey.”
He groaned against you, and your stomach tightened, along with your grip on the duvet. “That’s it, baby. You like it when I do this, don’t you?” He leaned in again, striping a long lick before sucking hard on your clit. Your heart picked up, and you reached your arms up, pressing your palms onto your forehead. He gazed up at you, moving away from your core with a content sigh and the lick of lips. “Fucking hell, princess. You taste so good. And you’re shaking.” He cradled your thigh in one hand. “Yeah? You liked it that much?”
You nodded, lacing the sheets between your fingers. Frustration welled up between your legs at being unable to cum, but when Michael started to slip off his sweatpants, you perked up. Despite your weak legs, you sat up, draping yourself over his crotch and looking up at him. His eyes were half lidded, his cock hard against his wrist. Taking your hand, he ran it over his shaft, and his breath hitched. You shared one more adoring look before you took it on yourself, touching his member and running your finger over the tip. He was warm, and rather obviously grew harder just in your grip, as you pumped your hand up and down. His hips bucked up, and a rumble of a moan spilled out of his mouth. You smiled, leaning down and running your tongue across his member, your lips landing on the bottom of his shaft as you sucked it. He gasped, and his hand went to the back of your head.
“Y/N, oh,” he mumbled underneath his breath. “Oh, my fucking God.”
You continued what you did, then trailed your lips to his tip once again, taking him in whole until his cock hit the back of your throat. He hummed pleasantly, pushing your hair from your face so he could watch you. It was never a secret he found you beautiful, but it was also something he would never care to admit. Nothing to throw off the balance of your friendship, although it was blatant everything was fuelled by tamed lust and longing looks. You bobbed your head up and popped your lips off him, and he hissed, his nails leaving crescents in your shoulders. When he tensed up, all the way from his stomach to his cock, you pulled away, licking your lips and propping yourself up on your arms. He throbbed, red at the tip, and a vein protruding over the side.
Something passed between you, and he rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone. “You want to do this?”
Your hand found his over your face, and you barely had to think twice. “Of course.”
It was a gentle exchange, and he lifted you up so you lay with your back pressed against your mattress, which was still warm from where Michael was before. Despite you being so unfamiliar with his body, and his with yours, when the space between your thighs filled up with him, it felt right. It felt like you knew what you were doing, and there was nothing new with what was happening. You both sighed once he entered you, and he kissed your neck ever so softly, adding to the swell in your heart. He began to thrust, and reached down to circle your clit with his middle finger. Back arching off the bed, you lost your hand in his hair, an overwhelming feeling of delight overtaking you.
“Mikey,” you whimpered in his ear, and he let out a long held groan, gripping your hips, and picking up his speed. A harsh burst of pleasure occurred in your lower stomach, and a sound rose out from your throat as his fingers linked with yours and pushed your hand beside your head. Your legs wrapped around his hips, willing him in deeper. “Y-you’re so thick, oh fuck.”
“Does it feel good?” he asked, not straying with his mouth too far from your skin. His kisses were light along your shoulder, then finally, on your mouth. “Because it feels so good for me.”
“Yes.” A surprising jolt shook your voice, and Michael slammed harder into you, his fingers tracing your ribcage. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He lifted your legs, grunting and pumping himself harder. You felt him hit your G-Spot and inclined off the bed, swearing until he stopped you with another thrust. You were a mess between the mattress and the duvet, half of the bed sheets drooping onto the floor beside your clothes, and nothing else flooding the room other than your shared moans. You held onto his shoulders, which flexed every time he moved deeper inside you.
“So deep,” you whispered. “I think I’m close.”
“Me too, baby.” He rubbed your clit faster. “With me, okay? Come on, sweetheart. You’ve got me so hard.”
He fucked you harder into the mattress, until a lurch of inexplicable euphoria threw you off, and you were meeting his chest with yours and whining for him to cum with you. He did, after a moment, and pulled out, lying beside you and moving his sweaty fringe from his forehead. You kept your eyes closed, unsure whether you would be able to meet his gaze without blushing. He turned around to face you, propping himself onto his elbow and coasted his lips across your cheek. He shifted so he could kiss your mouth, and without much more persuasion, you leaned in, and wrapped your arms around him.
“Stay here for the night,” you murmured.
Chuckling, he reciprocated. “I wasn’t planning on leaving, anyway.”
AN: So I tried to make this really angsty, but somehow the ending ended up being a ton of fluff, but I don’t think anybody’s really complaining.
You weren’t quite sure what it was. The feeling of being dragged under the depths of the waves, drowning under the words everyone else threw at you. No matter how many times you tried to burst through the surface to try and breathe, you were always dragged back under, being surrounded and trapped.
There was no way out at this point. No matter what you did you always found yourself back at this place. A never-ending cycle of depression that enveloped you with open arms. As if anxiety were a person who kept you trapped in their arms, suffocating you within their grasp and keeping you silent.
You didn’t know how or why it happened, you just knew that it did. There was no way to control it. There were some days where it wouldn’t hit at all and everything would seem okay. Then there would be days like this where you weren’t able to pull yourself out of bed because it felt like there was a weight on your chest, keeping you trapped there.
It didn’t help with all of the messages and comments you kept getting. People thought they had a say in who you were because of the fact that you were with someone like Min Yoongi. They thought that they got to make the decision about who you were. And if you didn’t follow all of their wants and wishes they had a right to lash out at you.
The first thing you would see when you checked your phone in the morning, wouldn’t be the messages from your boyfriend that you were so desperately waiting to see, but the messages the fans left you because they saw you eat more than you were supposed to, or they saw you hang out with a friend from school.
He was on tour at the moment, going to different countries and performing, and every morning he would send you good morning texts, no matter what time it was for him. All he cared about was making sure you remembered how much he loved you and how much he cared for you.
It was hard to remember when the only thing you could focus on was the comments from people who didn’t know you, who said that you should work out more, or that you shouldn’t be allowed to date Yoongi because you didn’t look anything like his ideal type. It got to you, even though you fought as hard as you could so that it wouldn’t.
Warnings: Fights, injuries, blood, violence, anger, mentions of past abuse, swearing, angst
Word Count: 2983 (Sorry not sorry)
Summary: You go on your fifth date with Bucky and it isn’t at all what you’re expecting.
A/N: I have a real thing for boxing au’s at the moment and I loved this idea so so much. I couldn’t wait to show you guys and I really hope you love it. As always, feedback is welcome!
Ps. I honestly have nothing against Sam ! I love him, I do but for the purpose of this fic he is an asshole…
This wasn’t what you’d been imagining for your Fifth date.
If it was any other guy you’d probably be out at a restaurant, making small talk across the table while you tried to gauge whether or not you actually liked this guy and whether or not you might be going home with him. The both of you would probably do a little nervous flirting, glancing up at each other while you think the other isn’t paying attention; you’d ask him questions about what it was he did for a living, whether or not he enjoyed it, blah blah blah. You’d done the dating routine a couple of times now and knew what to expect from it.
But Bucky Barnes was as different from every other man you’d gone on a date with as an apple was from an orange. He’d kept you guessing on every date you’d gone on so far; you never knew what he was planning or where he was going to take you. But if someone had of told you that for your Fifth date you’d be on the sidelines of a boxing ring, watching him and another shirtless, sweaty man dance around each other while dodging punches you probably would have laughed in their face.
The crowd around you gasps and you feel your stomach lurch, mentally feeling the punch Bucky just took to his right cheek. There’s blood splattered across his face, oozing from a cut above his eyebrow and you can’t help but think he looks like a mess. He’s still on his feet though, determined to keep this fight going, apparently even if it lands him in a hospital bed. “You don’t need to worry,” Bucky’s friend Steve speaks up from next to you, noticing the concerned expression on your face. “I’ve seen him win in worse conditions than these.”
You try to smile back at him, grateful for him trying to ease your mind but you know he can probably see right through it. Your mind is completely focused on the fact that Bucky is receiving just as many punches as he’s dealing out. At this point you aren’t even worried if he wins or loses, you’re just hoping your next date doesn’t happen in the ICU. “Is it almost over?” You ask Steve. You’d never seen a boxing match until tonight and you’re not too sure what the ins and outs of the rule book were. “Yeah, there’s only one more round after this one, if neither of them go down that is,” Steve answers just as the crowd simultaneously gasps.
You glance quickly back towards the ring as Steve shouts out, having missed what happened but gathering it was good for Bucky as his opponent sways on his feet, blood dripping from his nose. The man, you’re sure Steve said his name was Wilson shakes his head, wiping away the blood with the back of his arm before charging back to the center of the ring. Before his punch can swing home however the bell goes off and the referee is suddenly between both men, pushing them towards their respective corners. You release the breath you’re holding as Bucky sits down on the stool, opening his mouth so one of his crew members can take out his mouth guard.
This is the closest you’ve been to him all night and you wish you were allowed up there to see him, to talk to him for a minute. Each break between rounds feels like a short tease, only making you want to be next to him more, looking after him. He’d been through quite the beating in the last half an hour and you can see the exhaustion clearly in his eyes.
It doesn’t seem like long but soon another bell chimes and the mouth guard is being pushed back into his mouth, his coach clapping him on the back as he stands up, moving back into the center of the ring. The anxiety swells in your chest and you look away, back towards Steve. “How long has he been doing this?” “Boxing or fighting?” Steve snorts. “Is there a difference?” You ask, almost scared of the answer. “Bucky’s been boxing for a little over three years now,” He explains. “But he, uh, he got into a lot of fights before that.” “You mean he was in street fights?” Steve sighs. “Look, his childhood wasn’t the best you know, his step dad wasn’t the nicest guy. Buck took it, he didn’t want the same thing to happen to his Mum or sister, but the whole thing kinda messed him up for ages.”
You look back towards Bucky, tracing your eyes over his face. It’s mostly clean from the blood but you can see the dark bruises already blooming over his face. It hurts your heart to imagine a younger version of him enduring the same kind of pain. “Maybe, just uh, don’t tell him I mentioned it,” Steve says, drawing your attention back to him. “It isn’t something Buck talks about at all and I don’t really think it’s something he wants the girl he likes to hear.”
You nod, knowing that if you had that happen to you, you probably wouldn’t want to talk about it either.
The crowd is much louder now that the end of the match is in sight, aggressively calling out each of their names, encouraging their favourite boxer to win the match. You’re watching with bated breath as they circle each other a few times, every passing moment setting you further on edge. You just want this whole thing to be over with. Despite Steve’s promises of how tough Bucky is you aren’t sure how many more times the man can get hit without collapsing. You’d like to think that he was everything Steve said he was but the truth of the matter was, he’s still human and there is only so much the body can take.
Bucky dodges a sudden punch swing, retaliating straight away with his own fists, driving the other man back against the ropes.You bite your lip anxiously as Steve cheers from next to you with the rest of the crowd. It looks like he’s finally found his groove and might just win this thing; but his opponent doesn’t go down without a fight. As Bucky swings out another punch Wilson makes his move, blocking Bucky’s hit and attacking with his own, his fist landing straight into Bucky’s ribs. Bucky drops to his knees, one gloved hand holding himself up while the other covers his newly found injury, his breathing now slightly more labored. “Come on,” You murmur under your breath, wringing your hands together in front of you as Bucky pushes himself up slowly.
Before he can push himself off the ground though Wilson strikes with a malicious punch to the jaw. Bucky hits the mat with a thump and doesn’t try to get up again. Your eyes widen with fear as everyone in the room starts booing and cursing towards the ring, sounding genuinely offended. Bucky is still lying there and it worries you more than you’d like to admit to yourself, the fear crawling into the center of your chest and settling there like ice. His team have surrounded him along with the referee, all of them trying to get him to respond.
“Cheap shot,” Steve mutters angrily. “I hope they disqualify him for that one.” You look to him, hoping that he might explain to you what just happened but he’s far too caught up in his own rage to be of any information to you.
The next minute feels like an eternity to you, but a sigh of relief falls from your lips as you finally see movement from Bucky. He lays there for another few seconds before two men grab hold of his upper arms, hauling him back to his feet and keeping a strong grip on him as he falters. Another man joins the ring to help get Bucky down the stairs, all of them holding up his weight as his head lolled from side to side.
Once his disappeared you look back at the ring and see the referee talking with Sam, a few other officials joining in on the conversation. You can’t hear what they’re saying from here but Wilson looks pissed as hell, his arms crossed over his chest defiantly. “Can we go see him?” You ask, wanting to make sure Bucky was alright. “Yeah, hold on a minute,” Steve replies, focusing on what’s going on in the ring.
Finally the announcement is made that Wilson was disqualified. You still aren’t sure what exactly he did wrong but frankly you could care less as long as Bucky was okay. “Good,” Steve growls his distaste as Wilson storms off, glaring him down until he disappears the same way Bucky went not long ago. “Alright, let’s go.”
Nobody is still in their seats so you have to jog to keep up with Steve’s fast pace, keeping your eyes on the back of his head as he weaves around people. The noise lowers the further towards the locker rooms you get and you’re happy you can actually hear yourself think clearly again. Steve takes a left around a corner and you follow suit, almost crashing into his back when he stops in front of a guarded door. The man nods at Steve, opening the door to let him pass but stops you as you go to follow. “Who are you?”
Before you can even think of reasoning with him, Steve peeks his head back through the door, speaking up on your behalf. “She’s good man,” He says. “She’s Buck’s girlfriend.” “Go on in then.”
You blush hotly as you step through the door, knowing that what Steve said isn’t entirely true but loving the way it sounds anyway. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at just the thought of being his girlfriend.
Bucky’s crew come into view as you walk into the room, Steve giving them a passing greeting as he starts making his way into the second section of the room, the place the actual lockers are located. “He wants to be alone,” One of them warn and you feel your throat thicken nervously. He’d have every right to be pissed off after what just happened and you hope you aren’t intruding by being here and that he wants to see you as much as you want to see him. “Yeah, yeah,” Steve waves them away. As you follow you see Bucky sitting on one of the benches, his shoulders slumped as he presses an ice pack against the side of his face. His hands have been relieved of the boxing gloves but they’re still taped, his tattered knuckles showing through. You look him over, noting the way his body still glistens with sweat, the hair he’d secured in a bun for the fight now sticking to his neck and forehead. He looks like a proper mess, but a handsome one at that.
“You look like shit,” Is the first thing Steve says. Bucky looks up and smirks. “You should see the other guy.” “He wasn’t happy you know.” “That’s his own fuckin fault,” Bucky spits, wincing as he moves the ice pack. You step towards him as he directs his attention to you.
“Hey beautiful.” “How are you feeling?” You ask with a sympathetic smile. “I’ve been worse,” He replies with a grin. “Trust me.” “Not by much,” Steve interjects with a shake of his head. “One of these days you aren’t going to walk away from it so easily.” “Aw Stevie, don’t tell me you’d miss me.” “You’re a prick,” He jokes while standing up,clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder before stepping back towards the door. “I’ll give you guys a minute.”
As soon as he’s out the door you turn back to Bucky, sighing softly. You close the distance between you, gently taking control of the ice pack against his face. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this,” He says finally, brushing his fingertips over your hips. “A little late for that now isn’t it?” You joke. “Hmm,” He hums his reply, scooting closer towards you, cuddling himself against your body and accepting your affection like a sleepy toddler. You know that despite his joking nature he is hurting a whole lot more than he wants to show you.
Your free hand travels up into his hair, twisting the strands around your fingers as he lets out a contented breath, relaxing fully into your touch. “You scared me you know,” You confess quietly, feeling the blush return to your cheeks. “Did I?” “I didn’t think you were going to get up, honestly.” He smiles, taking away from the seriousness of what you are discussing. “You don’t have to worry about me doll.”
You beg to differ, resisting the urge to scoff as you opt to holding off that conversation till later. You aren’t ready for him to know how much you already care for him, despite only knowing him a few short weeks. The information Steve let slip earlier on adding to it, your chest aching as you thought about the nurturing little Bucky was denied. You’re so focused on the task of lightly scratching your nails over his scalp that when he starts to talk you jump a little. “You’re much better company than Steve is.” “Am I?” ”Yeah, you’re better at snuggling as well.” “You know Steve told the guy out there that I’m your girlfriend?” “Well, I’d kind of like to think you already are.” “Oh really? You sure are cocky aren’t you?” “Well doll, you wouldn’t have just watched me get beat to a pulp if you weren’t sure about me.”
You’re about to vocalize your agreement with that statement when a commotion outside draws your attention. It sounds like someone has forced their way into the room despite the many shouts for him to stop. You tense. “Where is he?!” The man calls out, sounding both angry and dangerous. “Barnes!” You feel Bucky go rigid as the man rounds the corner, stopping short when he sees you both locked in an embrace. “Well isn’t this just so sweet.”
You aren’t surprised when Bucky retracts his arm from around your waist, sitting himself up straight as he hardens his expression. He doesn’t look away from where Sam Wilson is fuming but he addresses you softly. “Y/n, why don’t you go find Steve alright?” You know he’s only asking so you aren’t in the middle of the confrontation in case Sam tries anything, but you don’t move either way, not wanting to leave the two of them alone.. “Yeah babe, why don’t you go find him” Sam mocks, clearly enjoying himself. “What do you want Wilson?” Sam rolls his jaw threateningly, taking a step closer to Bucky as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to make it clear that you didn’t win that fight out there.” “No,” Bucky retorts stubbornly. “You just got disqualified. Thanks for that illegal hit by the way.” “What can I say? I really don’t like you Barnes, I saw the opportunity and I took it.”
Your heart is beating rapidly inside your chest, threatening to break through if Sam so much as takes another step towards Bucky. “Well I sure hope it was worth it,” Bucky laughs, smirking up at the man. “Oh it was,” Wilson laughs and the sound turns your stomach.
You aren’t sure whether or not he’d start another fight right here or not but you’re not willing to wait and find out. Even in Bucky’s current condition you know he has too much pride to back down. Your protective instinct kicks in as you stand up, wedging yourself between Sam and Bucky. “You need to leave,” You demand harshly. Wilson cocks an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “That’s adorable babe, you really think you could stop me?” “I wouldn’t mess with her,” Bucky warns from behind you, an intimidating edge to his voice.
Wilson looks between you both, rolling his jaw once last time before walking away. As soon as he’s out of the room you slump back to the bench, unaware of how much tension you’d been holding up to this point. Bucky wraps an arm over your shoulder, tucking you into his side. “I can’t believe you just did that,” Bucky admits. “You just scared the crap out of me.” “He won’t hurt you while I’m around babe,” You chuckle, tapping the end of his nose with your finger tip.
Bucky smirks, pulling you closer to his body before attaching his lips to yours, startling you for a few seconds before you start kissing him back fervently, your hands gripping his shoulders.
It only lasts a few seconds before you’re both pulling back, your chest heaving a little, your cheeks no doubt flushed. “That was nice.” “Probably would have been better if I could feel my face.” “Well maybe we just need to try it again.”
You lay awake next to Jason, staring up at the ceiling. The Gotham air was hot and sticky, and your sheets and night-clothes clung to your skin. You listened to the ceiling fan spinning above you, how the pull chain for the light clicked softly against the fixture as it swung. The soft hum of the spinning blades was calming, and you felt it fan the warm air down onto the bed. The soft electronic beep of the digital clock on the bedside marked the start of another hour.
You sighed softly, and turned your head to face Jason. “Are you awake too?” you asked in a hushed tone.
Jason hummed in response and rolled closer to you. He wrapped his strong arms around your smaller frame, and you clicked your tongue at how the humidity made your skin stick to his. “Can’t sleep?” he murmured, his lips pressed against your neck.
“Yeah,” you sighed in response, draping one arm over his neck and tangling your other hand in his hair. The heat of your bodies pressed together on the summer night was uncomfortable, but you didn’t mind so much.
“Me neither,” he said, speaking slowly. He pressed a series of soft, loving kisses to your jawline. “Wanna do something?”
“Like what?” you asked, humming slightly as he kissed your jaw.
“We could go out for a ride or something,” he suggested, rolling onto his back and taking you with him.
“That sounds nice,” you agreed, sighing contently as you rested your head against his chest. You listened to his heart, beating steadily, and felt the rise and fall of his chest. You remembered the pain you’d felt when he had been dead, and the gratitude you’d felt upon his return. The gratitude you still felt every time you saw him, every time you considered how lucky you were to have him.
“Earth to (Y/N),” Jason said, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “We should go and get ready if we’re gonna go for that ride, okay?”
“Okay,” you responded, rolling off of Jason’s chest and getting out of bed. You went over to the closet and changed into clothing suitable for a motorcycle ride, and Jason did the same.
Neither of you spoke, and the buzz of the ceiling fan provided the background noise in the small, dark room as you both prepared to go out. Once you were ready, you made your way over to Jason, who waited, leaning in the doorway.
“Ready to go?” he asked, smirking down at you ever so slightly.
“Ready when you are, Jay,” you replied, smiling in return.
You walked out of the small apartment together, Jason locking the door behind you. You went down the stairway and soon you were outside. The warm nighttime air was somewhat refreshing, although Gotham’s pollution meant that the air always smelled ever so slightly like monoxide from cars.
You got to the place where Jason liked to park his motorcycle and donned your helmets. You had never expected Jason to be a safety-first kind of guy, but he was strict on the fact that you wore a helmet and the right kind of clothes if he ever took you out on a ride. You found it quite endearing.
You got onto the motorcycle after Jason and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your feet on the foot pegs.
Jason started the bike, and the engine came humming to life. “Ready, babe?” he asked, making sure he didn’t startle you when he started moving.
“Yep,” you confirmed leaning forward into his back, the leather of both your jackets brushing together.
From there, you took off, speeding quickly down the streets of downtown Gotham.
You smiled in excitement as you felt the warm wind whip against the small sections of exposed skin near your wrists and neck, and you felt the road underneath you pass by smoothly.
You watched in amazement, and fell a little bit further in love as Jason shifted his hands and feet on the handlebar and driver’s pedals to adjust to your surroundings and the texture of the road. You could practically see his brow furrowing in confident concentration.
A few minutes later you were cruising on a relatively open freeway. Only a few other cars shared the road with you. The lights around you blurred together in streaks of yellow and red against the dark blue of the night skyline.
Every once in a while Jason would shift lanes, weaving in and out of the dotted lines skillfully. The silence between the two of you was a comfortable one, and you found a strange mix of comfort and exhilaration. Comfort at Jason’s strong presence in front of you, and your arms around his torso, and exhilaration at the loud buzz of the motorcycle and the streaks of lights that whizzed through your line of sight at a million miles an hour.
You’d been riding comfortable for a while when you noticed Jason’s body tense slightly more than usual. You weren’t sure why, but suddenly you had a bad feeling in your gut. You assured yourself it was nothing, and continued to maintain the silence between you.
Jason shifted over to the right side of the road and suddenly you realized what the issue was. Out of one of the the rear view mirrors that were attached to the handlebars you saw a pickup truck coming up fast behind you.
Your hold around Jason’s waist tightened in anxiety, and your gloved fingers dug into the leather of his jacket.
“We’re gonna be fine, baby.”
You could barely make out Jason’s voice over the sound of the engine and the other cars, but you nodded your head as best you could with the helmet on, hoping that he recognized your sign of acknowledgment.
The pickup truck accelerated so that it matched your speed and for a few minutes it travelled next to you, seemingly inconspicuous.
The next thing you knew, it was shifting into your lane, pushing you closer and closer to the barrier that was on the right side of the road.
“What the hell is this guy doing?” Jason yelled, trying to slow down to allow the truck into the lane. It decelerated along him, however, and continued to push you into the barrier that separated the road from a nasty looking tangle of trees.
“What the fuck?” Jason cried out, and decided to go faster to try to slip away.
You clung onto him tightly as you accelerated rapidly.
Once again, the driver of the truck decided to follow, and Jason slowed down to normal speed in reluctant compliance, deciding that if this had to happen then it would hurt a hell of a lot less at a slower speed.
“Damnit!” he cursed as you were pushed all the way into the guardrail, and sparks flew as the metal of the bike scraped roughly against the stone barrier.
For the tiniest instant, the pickup truck driver seemed to ease up again, and shift back out into the left side, but before Jason could take the opportunity, it was crushed.
The truck sideswiped you, and hard.
The motorcycle collided violently with the guardrail, and you felt your body jerk as you collided with it.
By some miracle, Jason had managed to angle the motorcycle to stay on the road, but he was quickly losing control of the bike.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Jason cussed, as you skidded once again against the barrier. You felt like it was happening in slow motion.
You saw Jason’s hands being torn away from the handgrips as sparks flew all around you and chunks of shrapnel soared through the air.
The instant dragged out for what felt like minutes, but soon time caught up to you, and you saw concrete flying towards your face, or maybe you were flying towards the concrete. You heard a loud crack as the face shield of your helmet hit the pavement and your body collided horizontally with the road.
Everything was hazy as Jason slowly awoke. He felt concrete underneath him and his head hurt like hell. In a strange daze, Jason slowly sat up and removed his helmet, trying to see his surroundings through bleary eyes. He could hear his own heartbeat as well as the blood rushing through his veins. Everything echoed strangely.
His vision cleared up slightly, and he could see what was around him. He could see that his bike was trashed, ripped into chunks of smoking metal, and he could see blood on the road. That was strange. Blood on the road? He wasn’t bleeding.
A slow realization dawned on him, and he felt a pit form in his stomach. He felt useless as he crawled towards the wreckage of the bike, unable to make himself stand. He tried to call out your name, but his voice failed him. It was dark, and the only light by which he could see was a street light a small distance away.
He saw a small form lying in the road just a few feet ahead, and he forced himself to get to it– get to you– as fast as he could.
You were lying face down in the road, your limbs splayed out at awkward angles. The fiberglass of your helmet was scratched up badly. Your clothes were ripped and torn and blood soaked several sections of your clothing.
Jason’s heart dropped. He couldn’t tell if you were even alive anymore. Gently, he removed your helmet, careful not to jostle your body. But then again, for all he knew, there was nothing but a corpse in his arms. He was relieved to find your face was mostly unscathed, with only a few minor scratches and bruises here and there.Carefully and slowly, he peeled away your torn and bloodied jacket. The lacerations he found underneath made him cringe. There were bone deep cuts and pieces of skin that had been torn, and places where he couldn’t tell where the cuts stopped and the thick streams of blood started.
His first instinct was to cry out. To cry out for help, because for the first time in a long time he was willing to set aside his pride and scream for help. But he knew better than to waste his voice crying out into deafening traffic.
With a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket to find his cellphone. His fingers wrapped around the small device as he pulled it from his pocket. The screen had cracked but was still useable, and he dialed nine-one-one from the emergency call screen.
They picked up almost immediately, and Jason managed to choke out his location so that they could send an ambulance.
The phone slipped from his fingers as he finished the call and clattered to the asphalt below.
His hand hovered above your mouth, and to his relief he felt short and shallow breaths. You were still alive. ‘But for how long?’ he thought, hopelessness clouding his thoughts.
No. He couldn’t afford to think that way. Not in this situation.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for the ambulance to arrive. All he knew was that it had finally gotten there, and every second it took felt like a second too long when he held your bruised and bloodied body in his arms.
The minute the paramedics had reached him they were asking him too many questions about things he was too dazed to remember and taking you out of his arms and onto a gurney.
Jason allowed a paramedic to guide him into the ambulance and suddenly the stress his body was under finally set in as the adrenaline wore off. He was dizzy and a newfound nausea had him leaning over a bucket with an emergency responder holding his hair out of his face.
He barely registered what was happening as the doors of the ambulance were shut and the vehicle started moving. He blinked as someone shone a flashlight into his eyes and said something about a concussion. He was moved onto a second gurney, even though he was sure he didn’t need it. Jason was vaguely aware of his surroundings during the drive to the hospital, but his thoughts mainly centered around your safety. He kept trying to ask the paramedic that hovered over him about you, but he wasn’t entirely sure his sentences were coming out correctly.
The white of the inside of the hospital contrasted starkly to the night sky and suddenly everything was indistinguishable from everything else. Just a meaningless blur of white walls and white uniforms and white machines and white lights.
He groaned slightly as black spots danced across his vision. It was getting harder and harder to think, and the bright lights were hurting his head.
He couldn’t quite place when—or if—he lost consciousness, and the next thing he knew he was lying in a hospital bed, Bruce at his side.
Genre: Soulmate!AU. You hear your soul mate’s thoughts inside
your head since the moment they/you are born.
Summary: The sound of his voice
inside her head brings a smile to her face or a frown to her features. If only
Minseok wasn’t so teasing maybe things would be a little bit easier.
If only her mind could shut up for three seconds, she would be able to
And she really meant those words, without caring that she liked neither
this topic nor studying whatsoever, but she really needed to pass this exam,
yet, the voice on her head kept singing hit songs, thinking about food and some
other dirty thought that would cross their heads. Not that she had two voices
inside her head, one coming from a male and the other completely hers…but it
was rather something she was born with. All her life she had heard the voice of
her soul mate and she’d like to think it’s beautiful –and in some way it is-
but at this point, it was annoying. She had heard his voice as a kid, mostly
talking about how he had lost a game with his friends and asking who she was,
then when he was a teenager he would be colder…slightly lost in the feeling of
going through puberty and finding new lovers, and now…the man that she
recognized as Minseok was nothing more than doing anything to get her riled up.
From what he thought, she could tell that Minseok was a pretty vivid and
lively person. Sometimes he thought about his friends, giving them presents or
teasing them as a way of showing them his love. Other times, he simply thought
about food and how grumpy he was because he was hungry. From what she knew, he
was on summer break at this moment and she was taking classes in the summer,
hence why she was so mad because he was doing this on purpose. Back when they
were both children, they didn’t know that they could have a full conversation
with their thoughts, but now that he learnt that he could talk to her and hear
her just from thinking…he used it to his
summary: molly introduces y/n and george and fluff ensues
requested: Hey can you do a 24 & 3 with George Weasley??
warings: none (possibly some swearing)
pairing: george x reader
3. “I was thinking about asking you out, but then I realized how stupid that’d be.”
24. “Stop it.” “Stop what?” “Smirking at me like that!” “Like what?“ “… Stop it!”
You don’t go to Hogwarts- or at least you didn’t. Your parents were transferring you over the summer, because the success rates after graduating were higher there, or something like that. All you knew was that you were being forced to leave the school you’d grown up in for a majority of your life for a different one, where you knew all of no one, which was very intimidating.
Not that that was what you wanted to think of while you were book shopping for this new school. You were in the middle of picking up one of the books you needed, when your name is called across the store. You nearly drop the book in surprise, glancing in the direction of the voice, taking in Molly Weasley coming towards you.
“Oh, hi Mrs. Weasley.” you greet when she’s in earshot. She’s friends with your mom, so you’d seen her around a bit.
“Y/N, hi! Your mom said you’re transferring to Hogwarts?”
“I am, yeah.”
“That’s great! All of my children go there, so you won’t have to worry about making friends- speaking of which, have you met my son George?”
“I have not met your son George,” you laugh, meeting eyes with a somewhat embarrassed looking guy your age.
“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it then.” she responds, shooting a not so subtle wink at George, which doesn’t make him look any less embarrassed. She walks over to a different redheaded boy, which you assume is one of her other sons, and pretends not to watch the interaction.
There’s a pause of silence, and after a minute the tall boy fills it. “I’d be her son George.” he chuckles, a little flushed.
“I assumed,” you arch an eyebrow, smiling to show that you were teasing.
“What a rude thing to do.” he pretends to look offended. “I could’ve been any of her sons- she has six of them, you know.”
“Can’t say that I knew that, actually. But I’ll be more careful next time.” You can’t help but giggle at him.
“As you should be,” he grins, the tension between you successfully melted. “Now have you found the fourth book on the list? Because I haven’t, and I’d ask one of my brothers, but I’m the smartest you see, so if I can’t find it then there’s no hope for any of us.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” you play along. “But that book is on the first table you see when you come in.”
“Pfft, of course it is. I was just testing your knowledge.” he informs you. “You passed.”
You end up doing the rest of your shopping with the Weasleys, mainly George as he splits the two of you away from the group for a majority of the shopping. “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”
“My biggest pet peeve?” his brow wrinkles in confusion.
“Yeah.” you laugh at his expression. “Like, what really annoys you?”
“Oh, I dunno. I don’t like it when people call each other by their last names.”
“That’s weird.” you inform him, which he only rolls his eyes in response of.
“Okay, then what’s yours?”
“I don’t know. I don’t like wet socks.”
“Y’know, like when you step in a wet patch while you’re in socks- that’s like one of the worst feelings ever.”
He just scoffs. “And that’s not weird?”
“No- who likes wearing wet socks? Literally no one. It’s weird if that’s not one of your pet peeves.”
“I think you’re a little biased.”
“I am not.”
“Whatever you say.” he hums, opening the door to the tea shop that you’d agreed to meet the rest of his family at.
You about to wit something back when Mrs. Weasley spots you, and ushers you over to the table she was sitting at. “I’m not sure where the others are,” she informs the two of you. “I think they said something about Borgin and Burkes- George, would you go get us some waters?”
“Sure.” he gestures for you to take the seat across from his mother, smiling at you before heading towards the front.
“Good looking boy, isn’t he?” she tuts, smiling expectantly at you.
“Huh?” is all you can let out, a flush taking over your face as you process her words.
“Georgie! He’s quite the looker.”
“Oh, um, yeah. I guess.” you stutter out, hoping your blush isn’t as visible as you know it is.
“Girls always have liked him- can’t say he’s always liked them though. But he’s seemed quite interested in you today. Don’t reckon he’ll ever hear the end of it from Fred.”
“Oh,” you let out, wondering what could possibly be taking George this long.
“You do seem quite interested in him as well- and you’d just make the most beautiful children-”
“Mind if I join you?” George cuts in, seemingly unaware of the conversation he’d just interrupted as he sets your water in front of you, placing the others on the table.
“Sure, Georgie, you can take my spot.” Mrs. Weasley gets up, her wink directed at you now as she takes her water from the table. “Y/N and I were just talking about how handsome you are.” she informs him, you nearly choking on the sip of water you’d just taken. Mrs. Weasley looks highly amused as she wanders towards the exit, clearly quite proud of herself.
“Really?” George slides into the spot next to you, turning to you and bouncing his eyebrows.
“I’m not sure I used those exact words.” you glance over at him, taking in the smirk on his face. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he teases, the smirk still resting on his face.
You scoff at him, tempted to stick your tongue out. “Smirking at me like that, Weasley.”
“Like what, Y/N?” he challenges, ignoring your attempt at annoying him.
You hold eye contact for a moment,daring each other to speak first. “…Stop it!” you burst finally, nearly pushing him off the bench with a shove that was meant to be playful. You burst out laughing at the expression on his face, which makes him laugh, and then you’re causing a lot more noise than you probably should be saying as you were in a shop.
He looks at you then, with a tenderness that makes your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, cautiously. “I mean, I was going to ask you, but then I realized how stupid that’d be.”
“That wouldn’t be stupid!” you clear your throat at the eagerness in your voice. “Um, I mean why would that be stupid?”
He tries to keep a straight face, but laughs at your response, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t be. I just didn’t think you were interested is all.”
You stare at him expectantly, rolling your eyes when he doesn’t continue. “Is there something you’d like to ask me?” you hint, making him grin again.
“Would you like to go out with me, Y/N?”
“No.” you watch his mouth drop open and giggle. “I’m just kidding, George. Of course I would- but that’ll show you for being over confident you wang.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “What’s a wang?”
“You. You’re a wang.”
“Really? So if I look up wang in the dictionary there will be a picture of me?”
“No I don’t think so- in fact I happen to have bought a new dictionary today- thanks for that, by the way- so I think I’ll just test that theory, if that’s okay with you.”
“You’re just full of tests aren’t you?”
“Says the one who thought rejecting me was just the funniest thing in the world.”
“It was! You should’ve seen your face.”
“No, I don’t think I should have- mostly because that’s impossible. Which I know because I’m the smartest Weasley.”
“Yes, I think I’ve heard that before.”
(just like endless banter until it’s time for you to go, and George kisses you goodbye, which leaves you very excited to see him again when school starts)
A/N: Here’s another imagine, guys! I hope that you are having a nice day. I am sorry for not posting that much, but I am trying to. Thank you so much.
P.S.: I still don’t accept part two requests for my prompt imagines. I am so sorry.
- G. x
List: Prompt List
Warning: some bad words
“Justin, are you listening to me?!” You shouted loudly to catch your best friend’s attention. You were repeating your Maths lesson as he failed the surprise test that you had few days before.
“Jesus! I am.” He shook his head with his furrowed eyebrows. He was having some deep thoughts in his head and you couldn’t seriously blame him for that. He unleashed a very long and heavy sigh as he started to tap the tip of his pencil on the table. His fingers moved as fast as they could and the continuous annoying sound made you feel disturbed and nervous.
“Stop, Justin!” You snatched the pencil from his hand and you threw it carelessly on your study table. “What the hell is happening to you?” You already knew that he had something in his head. Just the fact that he asked you and not Jessica, your best friend’s girlfriend, if he could stay for the night already gave you a feeling that he had some problems to deal with.
“Seth!” He spat the name of his mother’s boyfriend as if it was a deathly poison in his mouth. He was disgusted, since he hated the guy so much.
“Did he hurt you again?” You quickly felt bad for shouting at him few moments ago and you suddenly worried for what he had gone through in his unpleasant house. Only those prison walls perfectly knew what he was going through.
“He did, but that wasn’t the thing. Don’t worry.” He straightened his face and he looked at you, closing your opened notebooks and Math books on the desk. “I can handle him.”
“You surely don’t.” You click your tongue in annoyance and disappointment. You saw the black and blue bruises on his arms and you hated the man more than Justin hated him.
Seth used drugs and he would always be high. He would sometimes be happy, but, most of the times, he would punch Justin for no reason. He also stayed in Foley’s residence, with Justin and his mother, acting like it was his house. He would act like how he wanted and he would treat Justin poorly, as if he was just some sort of shit.
“No, don’t mind that.” He covered his arms with his varsity jacket and he made his way through your bed. “Seth is just a part of my shitty life.”
“Jus!” You pouted as you followed him, totally forgetting the test that Justin had for the next day. You stayed under your thick covers as the air conditioner gave you some sort of cold feeling and shivers. “What are you thinking about?”
“Life sucks!” He simply responded as he faced you and wrapped his arms around your waist delicately, not wanting to hurt you. You were just best friend’s, but you considered sleeping together a normal thing, since it was a habit that you used to do when you were both still young. The only person who stopped you from doing such thing was Jessica and they would always fight whenever Justin would ask you if he could crash in your house.
“I know, Jus,” you nodded as you lingered the warmth that his body emanated. “but you also know that I am always here for you, right?”
“I know and I thank you for that.” He flashed you a broken smile. You loved Justin’s sweet smile, but you would never like his sad and forced smile. He was really sad and you, honestly, would love to stand up for him in front of his mother and her boyfriend. “Mostly when Jessica isn’t by my side anymore.”
“Huh?” You distanced your face from his to look into his deep bluish green glossy eyes. You couldn’t understand him that you wanted to look for some answers in his sincere eyes. “What do you mean?”
“She,” He bit his lower lip, totally trying to stop the tears he had in the corner of his beautiful eyes. You started to understand why he was having too many thoughts in his mind in the past few days. You knew how much he loved Jessica and he surely loved her to death. “she broke up with me.”
Justin wasn’t a boy who had everything, but he would do anything for her, even when he had nothing to give. He was your dream boyfriend, because you saw the gentleman character that was in him. No one ever treated you like that way he treated Jessica and you envied her for that, but you never hated on her.
“What?” Your eyes grew wide and Justin’s tears started to stream down his lovely face. He loved the girl so much that he couldn’t let her go and only God knew how hurt he was for what she had done.
“We’re not together anymore.” He managed to say in between of his uncontrollable sobs. You wiped the hot tears from his red cheeks and you pulled him into a tight hug. “She loves someone else.”
“Damn, Jus!” You felt that he hugged you back, tighter than your embrace. You let him cry and let his resentments out, not caring if your shirt or your pillow get wet for his tears. After all, he just needed somebody to lean on. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He whispered and you rubbed his back as his breathing became heavier and difficult to deal with. “Thank you, instead.”
“I am always here, Jus. Don’t thank me.” You left a soft and gentle kiss on his temple as you tried to comfort him with your actions.
After all, Justin was a sensitive guy, still with an unhappy heart, nevertheless his corny jokes and contagious laughs. Justin used his heart to love someone who didn’t appreciate his good intentions. Justin had a good heart, even though he was known as the asshole jock of your school. He was strong, but he also needed his anchor.
The anchor who kept on saving him all the time, the one who kept on saving the ship. He also needed a shoulder to cry on and somebody to lean on, whenever thunder storms would try to destroy him. And that somebody was you. It was you and always you would be the one, because you has always appreciated him and loved him, as best friends or not.
Beyond everything, you were best friends and you would never let him down. He didn’t deserve another disappointment and he needed nothing but love and a crying shoulder. You were always happy to help him and you were grateful that he asked help from you.
You were best friends and best friends accepted everything: flaws, weaknesses and tears. That night you accepted his broken heart and his tears, giving your comforting touch and your shoulders to cry on.
You were lying in bed in your dark room, eyes closed, earbuds in, and completely in your own little world. With the school year coming to a close, it was important as ever that you got time to relax and unwind from the stress of your exams. And having already finished your homework and daily studying, you decided that now was a perfect time to relax.
Through your headphones, you heard something slam into your window. You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you pulled out your earbuds and opened the window to see your boyfriend slumped on the fire escape.
“Jesus, Peter,” you said, your voice laced with concern, pulling him into your room. Dating Spiderman does have its perks.
“What? I’m fine, I swear,” he said. You lifted his mask to reveal his normally adorable face beaten and bloodied. “…Mostly,” he groans.
You cup his face in your hands and your breathing goes shaky. “You can’t keep doing this, Peter, I can’t…”
Peter tenses, suddenly aware of the effect his injuries are having on you. “Y/N…” he says worriedly.
“When you come back to me looking like this it gets me really worried that next time you won’t come back to me at all. And I need you to come back, Peter, I love you so much, you don’t even know. So you can’t…you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Your eyes had started to get watery, and you wiped a stray tear off your cheek with the sleeve of your (borrowed) hoodie. Peter grabs your face and tilts your head up to look at him.
“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”
“You’re just saying that, and then you’re gonna go get chopped up by some middle-aged man in a rocket suit!”
“Y/N, you don’t need to worry about me. It’s gonna take a lot more than a middle-aged man in a rocket suit to break this…” He motions to himself. “….This…beast.”
You laugh and shove him gently. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you are the most important thing in my life. So I mean it. I got you, always.”
You sigh and smile at him. He slowly pulls you close to him and kisses you. His lips are sweet and soft and taste like cinnamon sugar and you know he’s telling the truth. He pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against him completely, and your hands wander into his hair. Your sweet moment is ruined by a harsh wince coming from Peter. You pull your hand back to feel blood.
“What do you say we get back to that once we get you all patched up, yeah?” you suggest.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Now c’mere, Spiderman,” you say affectionately. You pull the first aid kit out from under your bed and Peter strips out of the suit and sits next to you on the bed.
You’re cleaning a particularly deep gash on his shoulder when you notice him staring at you. “What?” you ask.
“Nothing, just that you’re really beautiful and I can’t believe you’re real and care about me.”
“You are sappy.” He continues to stare at you, his heart-eyed expression replaced with a blank one. “I love you,” you add on in a singsongy voice. He smiles and kisses your forehead. “But seriously, Peter Parker, if you die, I’m gonna kill you.”
summary: daveed and reader were high school sweethearts who had a bad breakup, fate (and a well-timed cello concert) brought them together in NYC. they had a lot of catching up to do.
warnings: swearing, mentions of car wrecks and death, smut at the end because i’m still me after all.
word count: 6,459
a/n: ayyy it’s day five of the @hamwriters write-a-thon which is reverse POV day. this is a continuation of my lit day fic, linked at the top of this post, and i can’t tell u how to live ur life but it really would make more sense if you read that first. love u!!!!!!!! hope it was worth the wait!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Daveed,” you breathe. “Hi- I, um…I hadn’t really figured you’d come backstage.”
Daveed shifts uncomfortably, looking around the room.
“Yeah, well…I almost didn’t,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.
Prompt: you were rushing to go out and lost your contacts.
You started to get a little frantic when you realized you only had five minutes until you had to leave for dinner with your boyfriend of 6 months. And that meant you only had five minutes to find your goddam contacts before you had to leave.
You couldn’t go to dinner without your contacts because you would be either legally blind or have to wear your glasses.
You hated your glasses. You bought them almost two years ago when you thought big frames were in style. They weren’t nor will they ever be.
They were black with thick lenses and the frames - oh god - they were so huge you could die honestly. They’re an absolute embarrassment.
One minute. You have only one minute until you have to leave. Your head was swarmed with different thoughts as you glared at random things around your apartment, everything was a blur.
Shit. Your minute was gone! You quickly stumbled around until you found your book bag where your lens case was stuffed, pulling on your glasses.
Huffing loudly, you trudged out the front door and slammed it shut, running down the stairwell in the building to the bottom floor.In a hurry to make it to the restaurant.
Your boyfriend chose a place on the Upper East Side because he could actually afford to take you to places like that.
The restaurant was large, with security guards standing outside because it was one of the most common places for celebrities to eat.
“Name?” The front lady asked.
Smiling briefly you responded.
She led you through rows of tables all seated with mostly familiar faces of celebrities.
Your face lit up when you noticed Tom, he was dressed nicely in a fitted suit. He rose when he saw you, placing a kiss to your cheek before sitting down with you.
“You look different tonight.” He looked at you confused when your heart stopped when you remembered you were wearing your glasses.
“Oh, really?” You tried to play it cool. Maybe he won’t notice.
“When did you get glasses?” His eyes scanned over your whole face. Oh gulp.
“I’ve always had glasses,” You said quietly completely embarrassed.
“Really?” He asked astounded. “How come I’ve never seen you wear them?” He asked.
“Well I bought contacts so..” You shrugged it off.
“Okay, right. You look good in them.” He said making you blush, “like my little nerd.”
Your nose scrunched in dismay at his choice of nickname.
“Let’s eat?” You changed the subject.
Half an hour into your meal, Tom couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your stupid glasses.
“Look here,” he pointed to the back of the bottle of wine he ordered you two, “I simply don’t understand these words. Like potassium metabisulfite. You probably know what that is, right Nerd?” he asked cheekily.
You really wanted to throat punch him.
“Oh c’mon, I knew you were always related to Einstein, you could see it in your eyes.”
“Tom,” You sighed.
“What?” He asked, enjoying his steak with his bubbling laughter.
“You’re annoying,” You said. He laughed.
“Babe, I’m only kidding because you do look very adorable in those glasses.”
You felt the soft, silky ribbon cover your eyelids
as your vision went dark. You pulled at the rope that hand your hands tied
together behind your back.
“Can you at least take one of these off,
Taehyung?” You tried to work at your hands again until you heard the
clicking of his tongue. You could visualize him moving his finger back and
forth while shaking his head with each click.
“Hmm, I don’t think I can do that. You were
very, very bad today; I’m afraid I can’t let you off easy this time."
His deep voice sounded louder due to your heightened
senses from being blindfolded. You sighed remembering what you had done earlier
Taehyung had left to work right after some major
morning teasing, leaving you hanging to not even be able to finish yourself
off. It was one of his rules.
So while he was at work, you got the idea to send
him a series of pictures in your new baby pink lingerie. He warned you to stop,
but it only made you take a step further and send a video of you touching
yourself. Bad idea.
Now you were sitting on your knees on the edge of
the bed, your feet just barely hanging off. You were order to keep that same lingerie
on before having your hands tied together behind you and your eyes blindfolded.
You could hear light steps move from the left of you,
then to the right and back to the left. You couldn’t help but feel that he was
inspecting you like a piece of art at a gallery.
You finally heard Taehyung speak slowly again,
"Since you did bad, I have to properly punish you…don’t you think?”
After he said this, you felt a hard, leather surface trail from the top of your
chest, going up your neck and to your chin where he tilted your face up. You
felt his breath hit your cheek as he spoke in a low and cold tone.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, kitten."
A shiver ran down your spine and you visibly
You felt his presence disappear and just as you were
going to let out a sigh-you felt the same object against your back.
"Bend over, babygirl.” Taehyung said while
pushing your back forward.
You complied and put your face to the bed and stuck
your ass in the air. Not even a few seconds later, you felt the stinging from
the paddle on your left cheek. The smack still ringing through your ears.
“Ah.” Your body jerked forward out of
surprise. You felt his hand smooth over the tender flesh and you could hear the
smirk that was on his face through in his words.
I decided to do a post with some special, weird, funny Swedish words. Some are dialectal (don’t exist in some parts of Sweden, or mean different things etc.). Here they are!
Fårgråt-Eye discharge. You know that goo in your eyes in the morning? That. There are many words for this (ögonvar, ögongegga, ögonsömn, etc. etc.), but sheep cry is possibly the best one, just for being ridiculous.
Skavfötters-A lying position with two people where each person’s feet are juxtaposed to the other person’s head. If you share a bed with someone (a friend) it is very common to sleep skavfötters instead of sleeping with your heads next to each other. Skavfötters = sore feet’s. Illogical, I know.
Tjafs-Fuss. Unnecessary talking, hassle.
Idas-have enough energy (to do something). Example: Jag ids inte gå till affären-I don’t have the energy to go to the store. Ids is probably, I’m not sure, but probably only used in the northern part of Sweden.
Orka-have enough power, energy, strength (to do something). Same as idas, but not restricted to the north. Example: Jag orkar inte städa nu-I don’t have the energy to clean up now. Another word for this is palla. Idas, orka and palla all mean basically the same thing.
He-Put, lay, turn (on/off). Best Swedish word ever, but it is only used by Swedes from the north. The Swedes of the south often don’t know what it means. Example: He på tvn-Turn the tv on. He nyckeln på bordet-Put the key on the table.
Börs/portmonnä/plånbok-Wallet. For some reason we have several words for this, and which word you use often depends on where in the country you are from. I use börs and I am from the north. Portmonnä is an older word. Plånbok is probably the most common in for example Stockholm. Plån is a small flat surface that can be used many times (like on a match box), and bok of course is book.
Skräcködla-Dinosaur/unnatractive woman. I don’t think I have to explain this further really. Skräck is horror, ödla is lizard.
(Att) bjussa på-To offer someone something/to treat someone (normally). Bjussa is another word for bjuda. Example: Kan du inte bjussa på biljettkostnaden?-Can’t you treat me to the ticket charge?
Leg-Identification card. Leg is short for legitimation. I have this in this post because it can be good to know that if someone is asking for your leg in Sweden, it’s not the body part they’re after. Pronounced basically the same tho, but more Swedish.
Fara-Go/travel. This is a dialect word. If you say fara in the south of Sweden it ONLY means danger. In the north it means both danger and to go somewhere. Dra or åka is used in the south, and they have the same meaning as fara. Example: Kan inte vi fara till disney world?-Can’t we go to disney world?
Grina-Cry. Another word for gråta. This is a word with double meanings. In Scania (and maybe around Gothenburg as well) it means to laugh, basically. In the rest of Sweden it means to cry. I guess Scania has taken the English meaning for grin, almost. Funnily enough, the translator of the HP books used grinade when it said grinned in the original versions, which made for some ridiculous sentences for most of Sweden. Grina can also mean to make faces. To grina illa means to twist your face in pain (mostly).
Haffa-Catch/arrest/capture/get a hold of. Common use is for example that the police haffar bad guys. Slang use is for example att haffa brudar-to pick up chicks.
Tupplur-Nap. Tupp means rooster and lur is an old word for a phone. Put together it becomes a nap. Example: Jag ska ta en tupplur-I’m gonna take a nap.
Latmask-Slacker/lazybones/dawdler/lazy. A lazy worm. That’s the meaning of that word. Example: Sluta vara en latmask och kliv upp ur sängen-Stop being lazy and get out of bed.
That’s enough for this post. Feel free to add words, or send me comments or requests :)