forcing you all to look at my face

Your sign & temper explained by the weather

freebornfox:

Aries: Wildfires - Like wildfires, Aries are always ready to ignite and do so easily. When ignited, there’s no telling when they will calm down. Their rage can last for quite some time especially if they were betrayed or hurt by a friend or lover. Also, like wildfires, an Aries’ anger can be intensified by the Air Signs because using their wit they can justify and aid in any and all revenge plans, especially Gemini. Likewise, the water signs will attempt to calm you down or eventually, put you out if you take it too far.

Taurus: Tsunami - Tsunamis are the most deadly when it comes to severe weather conditions, but they aren’t really to blame. See, it’s disruptions in the ocean, on the sea floor, etc. that get them riled up. Taurus, you’re the same way. Your anger doesn’t show itself often because it takes time to build. But when it does show itself, it can do some serious damage. You are set off by things you can’t control, people, and STUPIDITY.

Gemini: Lightening - Witnessing you arguing, is like watching lightening flit across the sky. There is not a point you don’t touch on. You have a readily prepared argument for anyone who opposes you. Your first argument works 99% of the time, but if for some reason it doesn’t, you have 10 other arguments and can spit them out at rapid fire. You are VICIOUS! But you don’t hold grudges. Like lightening, you strike once and leave, but your words always leave permanent bruises on the ego. 

Cancer: Hurricane - All Cancers are insane, and we are no different when faced with an argument. Like hurricanes, we have levels. But I have to be honest, if we are really (finally) entering into an argument, we’re at a level 5.  A hurricane is rain, thunder, lightening, winds, etc. and a Cancer has just as many methods ready to inflict damage. When we want to fight, we will come at you verbally, physically, and mentally just like a hurricane. You’ll feel the effects afterwards. And to be clear, we aren’t like lightening; we strike more than once. So if we’ve fought once with you, we could probably go again. 

Leo: Thunder - When you’re in a fight you want everyone to know about it. You are LOUD, you tell all your friends and anyone who will listen why they should be on your side, and your temper flairs out of nowhere. You love to bring up past fights, mistakes, and insecurities. It takes only one incident for you to boil over, and you will refuse to stop fighting until someone has apologized… to you. Someone always has to apologize to you. Then, things can go back to the way they were. Like Cancer, you too have a tendency to fight with the same people more than once. 

Virgo: Floods - I would never say a Virgo is irrational. You just like things to be in a particular way, but you never fly off the handle. It’s not your style. So, if you are fighting, it’s because there are too many things out of order. THE DAM HAS BROKEN. EVACUATE. When a Virgo has finally snapped from all the dysfunction around them, they have really had it. There is no reasoning. They are out of patience. You need to just get away from them or you can drown in their critical, harsh words that will remind you of every mistake you’ve ever made. 

Libra: Hail - Like hail, it’s weird when a Libra is mad. You almost don’t even know if they are actually mad. Sure, they’re acting slightly more colder and are shooting you dirty looks, but to look at them, they seem alright. When you look at hail, like an aggravated Libra, it just looks weird, but not dangerous. However, have hail hit you in the face and you will quickly realized that it CAN and WILL hurt you. Like Virgoes, Libras just needs some time to calm down. DON’T force them into a confrontation. Leave them alone, and it will all pass over.

Scorpio: Tornado - I hope none of you are shocked at my choice of weather. You are crazy, but when you’re angry, you become the definition of insanity. There is no calming you down. You don’t freak out often, but when you do, you need to run your course. Like a tornado, you take down everyone and everything in your path and can devastate an entire population. The damage you inflict stays awhile because you (purposefully) make it difficult for people to cleanup after you. You need your destruction to last. 

Sagittarius: Volcano - Like volcanoes, you don’t erupt very often or easily. You’re easygoing and tend to let things slide (sometimes when you shouldn’t), but when you’re finally at your boiling point, you erupt without warning. Sometimes, you even try to hide your anger, but it is inevitable. The good news is that you don’t erupt for too long and aren’t partial to grudges. 

Capricorn: Earthquake - I like to think of Capricorns as some of the most stable people on the planet, especially as you get older. (Everyone is kind of a mess when they’re young, so ignore that). In order for you to lose your temper and lose control, something must be seriously wrong. Most times, I think your set off by the same things that set Taurus off, people and stupidity, and Virgoes, disorder. Basically, disruption of your master plan or, even worse, anything that gets in the way of your ambitions, will have you shaking and freaking out to the point where you will most likely further disrupt what is going on around you. Eventually, you will calm down and fix everything like a true Capricorn, but sometimes those you have fought with are permanently forgotten. YOU DO HOLD GRUDGES. 

Aquarius: Blizzard - An Aquarius’ anger is chilling, biting, cold. They aren’t going to strike at you in the middle of the night (that’s Scorpio). I think the most you’ll get from them is a calculated, callous remark that is only about the situation. They will normally never attack you for childish things like looks, (Gemini and Cancer will) or for things you’ve done wrong in the past (Leo and Capricorn will). They will only mention the situation and that is enough for them. They don’t need to make a big show out of their anger. In fact, that would be counterproductive because they are most likely going to disappear and never talk to you again anyway.

Pisces: Straight-line Winds - These winds are the natural partners of hurricanes. Actually during a hurricane, most of the damage comes from these winds; we just blame it on the hurricane. Your anger is silent. You will manipulate the situation to make it seem as if you aren’t involved, are completely innocent, and will get someone to fight your battles for you. Your anger is underhanded and sneaky, but you’re not a natural fighter. In my experience, it’s always Cancers and Leos who are willing to fight for you and on your behalf. Be careful, sometimes it is better to look like the bad guy, than to blame your mess on someone else.

Send me your name and astrology sign for a personalized aesthetic.

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#let me tell you one thing about this #sebastian stan’s acting #all i see when i look at his face is terror #you can literally see 2340958 different emotions in his eyes #he’s breathing so heavily #and it just makes it look so real #he looks so afraid #but what shatters my heart the most is that he’s afraid of himself #bucky wanted to get away from everything #he didn’t choose this life #he was forced by hydra #bucky barnes is not a villain #i can’t look in his eyes in this scene and even imagine him being the villain #his eyes are screaming #help me #i’m sorry i took the lives of innocent people help me #i’m sorry i almost killed you steve help me #SO ANYWAY #props to sebastian stan for acting this out #because there was a lot of stuff going on in bucky’s internal monologue

Wrong

Originally posted by lumos025

Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.

Words: 8083

Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.

2 years earlier:

You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.

From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.

You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.

The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.

It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.

Present day:

You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.

He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.

He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept. As if he loved it all now.

He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover herself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. They were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.

And then you heard his name.

Followed by yours.

Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.

“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”

Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about being carried by Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though You still didn’t expect the shake of you head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of you head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.

About sex in cinema.

“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper. But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.

“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I can come with you if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”

“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that You were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.

And saw that Jungkook was already waiting. Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.

Even though his expression seemed to say something else.

Oh god. His expression was saying something else.

Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.

And you knew.

“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”

“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”

“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”

“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”

“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”

“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”

You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.

Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.

And it made no difference at all.

“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”

“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”

“You think everything is cool between us?”

“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”

“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”

“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”

“That last one is getting close.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.

Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.

“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.

“But I figure we can work on it.”

“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”

“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”

“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”

“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”

“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”

He didn’t react the way You expected to, with more weird arguing.

He just closed his eyes.

He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.

“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”

“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”

You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.

“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”

The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.

That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.

“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”

You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.

“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”

“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”

“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”

“And I have no argument against it.”

“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.

“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”

He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.

And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.

“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”

“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”

“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.

“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”

“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”

“I think you have a terminal case.”

“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.

And hear it in his words.

“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”

“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”

Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.

He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed. It was just a trick of the light.

Better to focus on the real and the now.

“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.

Then you took a breath and answered.

“Nothing,” You said.

A few weeks later:

After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to their awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.

It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.

As did his silence.

He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.

Until now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”

Like an ominous statue of yourself.

“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”

“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.

“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”

“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”

“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”

“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”

“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”

You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.

“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”

“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”

“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.

“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.

Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.

Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.

You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.

Otherwise he would see you face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.

“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”

“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.

“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”

You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.

His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.

“Maybe she doesn’t care.”

“I guess not.”

“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”

“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.

“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.

Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.

Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”

“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”

“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”

“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”

You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.

Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow. Much too serious.

“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”

“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do those things?”

The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.

But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself.You only knew that when he started talking again You had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.

“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.

But then he kept going.

He kept going.

“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”

“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”

God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.

“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”

“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”

“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”

Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.

“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”

“Yeah but after…”

“After what?”

“After he came then he…”

He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.

Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through. “Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”

“No. No. After that then this happens.”

You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.

Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.

At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.

“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”

“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”

“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”

“Well, maybe not like this.”

“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”

At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.

“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”

“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”

“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.

You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.

Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.

“Think about how it must feel.”

“Yeah I can…I get that…”

“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”

“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly “Uh-huh.”

“And it works?”

You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.

“What works?”

“It makes you…you know. Cum.”

“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”

“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.

“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”

“Where? Where…where are you?”

You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.

Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.

“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”

“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.

No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.

“Then you just…stroke it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Until she’s mindless.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”

You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.

Not even when he was embarrassed.

Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.

You didn’t even know what the something was.

You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.

It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss. Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that. Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.

“You can, you know.”

“Can what?”

“Touch yourself.”

It jolted you, when he said it.

But not as much as realizing why he said it.

You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.

Because his hand was actually between his legs.

“I do,” he said.

As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.

“You do?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”

“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”

“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”

You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.

Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.

“If we could that would be awesome.”

“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”

“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”

“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”

“Seems that way to me.”

“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.

And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.

You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.

But that wasn’t what really got you.

It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it

under his waistband.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”

“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”

“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”

“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”

“Exactly. Exactly.”

But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing. Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…

You really didn’t need to.

He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.

Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.

“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.

Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.

To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.

He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.

Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.

And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.

Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.

And all of it for you.

He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.

“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.

Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.

You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight: Him, casually licking his messy fingers.

It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony. You even winced—then immediately regretted it.

He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.

And asked questions You were loathing to answer.

“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”

“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”

“God, you must be bursting.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.

And of course he could see all of that.

“You look like you’re bursting.”

“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”

“Your voice is shaking.”

“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.

Almost, almost, almost.

“Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Are they?”

“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”

Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.

“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing

“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”

His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.

Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.

“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”

“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”

“Right, exactly. Super intense.”

“So why deny yourself?”

“I’m not…denying…anything.”

“I could leave, if you want.”

“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v

Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded: Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate. Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.

And he took it that way, too.

“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.

Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.

You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.

Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”

“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”

“I always take a lot.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

“Especially when I’m alone.”

“Well, maybe we should see about that.”

Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.

Only without the scariness of the real thing.

All of this was without the scariness of the real thing. It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.

It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.

Not sexy in the least.

And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.

Yet you still had to clench your jaw.

You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.

he worst lover you had ever had.

You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.

He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?

Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…

Fuck.

You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans. You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching. All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.

Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it. Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.

Though one little word was more than enough.

“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.

“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.

“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.

With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.

Only it wasn’t all.

When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.

Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.

You came searingly close to telling him yes.

And go on.

And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.

For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.

Any second, you thought.

Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.

Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.

“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.

Kick him out.

“Jungkook…you need to leave”

A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics

Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - part 3

Warnings: graphic descriptions and images of sex/sexual activities. You’ve been warned my lovelies:) Enjoy!


Your P.O.V
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, basking the room with its warmth. I was tightly cocooned in a strong pair of arms, my back pressed against a muscular chest. There were soft snores echoing in my ear. I turned my head slightly, to see who the culprit of this snoring was, finding the peaceful face of my sleeping boyfriend, Zach Dempsey. 

Originally posted by sensualkisses

‘That’s right… Me and Zach… We actually did it last night.’ A sense of giddiness overcomes me. I remember last night so vividly… 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

IDK if you saw the post about how, before the Death Star plans were captured, the asset Bail was sending was *Leia herself* to Obi-Wan. But I'd like an AU based on that. No Death Star Plans, only a 19-year-old-girl strong in the Force, trying to beat the Empire.

She didn’t—

Luke cocked his head, watching the girl in white move through the marketplace. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her, why one minute he had been engrossed in Waing’s new shipment of power converters and the next he was staring at her, totally unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from one to the other, except he had, and now he was watching her. It was important he watch her, he knew it was important, though he couldn’t figure out how he knew that, or why.

It wasn’t that she stood out—sure, no one wore robes of that clean white, not unless they had a lot of slaves or droids to do the laundry for them, and yeah, she was the sort of pale you generally only saw in traders, who spent more time in artificial grav than sunslight. But she could be a water merchant’s daughter slumming it in Toshe, or an off-worlder, taking in the sights. (Not that they had many sights to see in Toshe, Luke thought with a snort.) And nobody else seemed to notice her; she stopped at Kinqua’s stall and dipped her fingers into the bowl Kinqua left out for tasting, and lifted it to her lips, licked the droplets away.

Luke had seen Kinqua casually lop off a child’s hand for that.

Skywalker,” Waing said, startling Luke out of his thoughts. “You made a decision? Or are you just going to keep feeling up my tech until it agrees to go home with you?”

“Cool your drives, Waing,” Luke said mildly, but he was still staring at the girl in white. She had two droids trundling after her, he realized belatedly—an astromech and a protocol droid, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying at this distance. Their lights were flashing, though, and he wished he could read visual binary.

“Oh, I see,” Waing said after a minute, and Luke could hear them smirking. “My tech isn’t all you’re hoping to take back to the Whitesun-Lars homestead.”

Luke felt his face go hot, and he forced himself to look back at Waing. They were smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly, but he couldn’t focus on the power converters anymore. The girl in white, had she—

“Pardon me.”

This close it was abundantly obvious that she wasn’t from Tatooine—no one from this planet carried that air of interestingness with them, like they had a secret that might change the whole course of your life. She must be an off-worlder. “I’m looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know where I might find him? I was told he lives near here—”

“Old Ben?” Luke cut in, before Waing could answer. “Do you mean Old Ben?”

The girl in white looked at him for a long moment, and Luke felt the back of his neck heating up. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Is he near here?”

“Oh, sure,” Luke laughed, more out of relief than anything else. “Old Ben’s just a few klicks from here, he lives near the western gorge—I could take you, if you want,” Luke said quickly, because she looked increasingly put-out, and he felt something in his chest twinge in answer to it.

But she shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but this is a personal matter.”

“It’ll cost you serious credits if you charter a speeder,” Luke said. “I’m headed that way anyway, let me take you. And your droids. Really,” he said, because she still looked uncertain. “It’s no trouble.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and her dark eyes were very serious. (He liked her eyes, for no particular reason he could figure out.) “My name is Leia,” she finally said, sticking her hand out. 

“Luke,” Luke laughed, taking it and shaking it. It was cool and smooth, and if he’d needed any confirmation she was from off-world, that was it. “Skywalker. My uncle owns a moisture farm in the eastern hemisphere.”

“I’m—not from around here,” she said, and Luke almost laughed because—well, obviously.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Luke said, and something of her tiredness and tightness (why did he know she was tired, down to her bones?) eased. She smiled back, a small smile. Luke counted it as a victory.

“I am C-3PO,” the protocol droid cut in, sticking his head between them as though it would stop them from looking at one another. He was burnished gold, and in the high sunslight it hurt to look at him. “And this is my companion, R2-D2.”

The astromech whistled a greeting, and Luke laughed. “Pleasure to meet—all of you. My speeder’s docked by the Ithorian, if you want…?”

“Hey, Skywalker, aren’t you going to buy anything?” Waing interrupted, and Luke winced, barely managing to tear his eyes away from Leia, who was still smiling, very slightly.

“Sorry, uh—maybe next week?” Luke offered lamely, but he was already ushering Leia and her droids away, and he could hear her laugh, very softly. (His chest fell too full, hearing it.)

It felt strange, formal and right, to help her into the speeder. Her hand in his was a kind of symmetry, inexplicable, the way he knew how a speeder was supposed to fit together, how a full tank of moisture sounded when you rapped it with a knuckle. Organic and totally without reason, their hands fitting together. She still hadn’t told him her surname, if she had a surname. Where she was from. What she was doing here. What her droids were doing here.

Luke couldn’t help but trust her utterly. Otherwise, why did her hand feel like that, resting in his?

What do you need to see Old Ben for?” Luke shouted over the rush of air around the speeder.

I told you,” Leia shouted back. The white hood she wore had fallen back, and her hair was dark. Even carefully styled, those loops over her ears, strands came loose, whipping around her face. “It’s personal!”

They stopped at the farm first, just to refuel and drop off the handful of things Luke did buy—rations, holonews downloads, some sucrose-candies for Aunt Beru. But when they touched down, Owen went white beneath his sunsburn, staring at Leia like she was a creature from another galaxy. “Your Highness,” he breathed, and Luke had to correct him, just an off-worlder looking for Old Ben; don’t pay her any mind. Look, Uncle Owen, I brought you your Almanac—

Leia was silent; picking at a loose thread in her white, white robes.

(Afterwards, she was silent, her arms crossed over her waist. They sped across the desert, which was gathering dark by the armful. “Sorry,” Luke said, trying to keep himself from shivering, “I know it gets cold at night.”

“It’s all right,” Leia said. “On—my planet, it snowed. We had mountains, and we would build whole castles out if it, out of snow. It was beautiful.”

“I’d like to see snow,” Luke said, but he thought it was lost in the sound of the speeder, because she didn’t reply.)

By the time they reached Old Ben’s place, it was dark enough for a lamp to be burning, the light spilling beneath the door and out the window. Luke watched as Leia knocked on the daub doorframe, shivering.

Still, it was worth staying just to watch the flicker of Old Ben’s expression from surprise to shock when he greeted her. He called her by a name that was definitely not ‘leia’ and Luke watched her shoulders hitch. “No,” Leia said finally. “I am Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. I am the daughter of Queen Breha Organa and Viceroy Bail Organa, and I am—I am here to beg your aid for the rebellion.”

Luke wasn’t so surprised that he didn’t notice Ben’s eyes cut to him, and then away.

“Princess,” Ben said finally, with an awful heaviness. Luke had brought him ration packs and listened to his stories he had never sounded like that before, like it was something awful and deep beyond saying. “If they sent you to find me, they must be very desperate.”

“No,” she said quickly, and Luke knew she was lying. “No, but—we need Jedi. We cannot go forward, we cannot fight, if the Force is not with us.”

This time, Old Ben’s stare lingered on Leia, then on Luke. He seemed to be making up his mind about something, though Luke couldn’t say what. Old Ben had always struck him as a sort of harmless religious sort; in another world he might have been a Jedi like in the stories, but instead he was a desert madman, talking to the air and clutching at a bit of carbon tubing like it was a lightsaber.

There was nothing harmless about the way he was looking at them now.

“I’ve been happy here,” Old Ben muttered, quietly, like an apology.

“Fine,” Leia said, almost a snarl. Luke could only see her in silhouette, against the light from Old Ben’s hut. He thought suddenly of a predator, something that could leap on the unsuspecting. “But no one ever promised us happiness.”

Luke could see Old Ben’s throat work. “Come in,” he said at last. His gaze darted to Luke, and Luke caught his breath. “What I have to say is—for both of you, now.”

Luke shut off the speeder.

(He had followed Leia into Old Ben’s hut, and didn’t come out the same man. No, not the same man at all.)

“love" by jack zimmermann || a zimbits fic || 3.3k

“Come in.” Bitty thanks the lord for the legitimate reprieve from the essay he’s been painfully forcing himself through all afternoon.

Jack enters, looking happier than normal. Bitty sees why immediately, and the smile that came onto his face when he saw Jack slips right back into a frown. Jack’s holding another memory card.

“I’m got some new footage,” Jack says in confirmation of Bitty’s fears.

“Jack, you’ve got to stop giving me new material.”

Jack’s smile drops at Bitty’s harsh tone, and his eyebrows draw together in a way that would be adorable if not for the circumstance and the fact Bitty is the one to make them that way. “Why?”

“Coz, honey, it’s not gonna help.” Bitty’s too exhausted to bother being embarrassed that the endearment slipped out.

Jack opens his mouth lamely. He looks down at the memory card in his hand then back to Bitty with sad eyes.

“Sit down.” Bitty gestures to his bed, thankful that he made it earlier while procrastinating. He rubs his sore eyes as Jack perches on the bed, then sighs out.

“Your assessment is to create a two-minute video based on love, yes?”

Jack nods. Bitty rubs at his eyes again, thinking of how to be honest without being hurtful.

“You’re an amazing photographer, and it comes across.” Jack picks his head up, looking hopefully at Bitty. It breaks his heart to have to continue. “But there’s no story here. There’s no love. I mean, unless your story is that you really love your camera. I can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t help you make anything out of this.”

Bitty tries to make his voice gentle. Jack turns his head away from Bitty anyway, but not quick enough that Bitty can’t see the hurt.

Bitty’s happily been helping Jack with his AV assessment after Jack asked. He gets to spend time with Jack doing something that Jack loves. But now he owes it as a friend to tell Jack the truth, even if it makes them both sad.

“Sorry, Bits,” Jack mumbles, still not looking at him.

“It’s alright.” Bitty already feels a little guilty for springing it on Jack with no warning. He crosses his arms, then realises that may come across as defensive if Jack ever looks back at him, so rests them back on his knees. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, I just want you to do well.”

Jack gives a brisk nod, but still avoids looking back at Bitty.

Bitty’s not sure what else he can do for Jack, so he simply waits.

Jack clears his throat after a moment and stands up. He looks at the memory card before putting it into a pocket.

“Thanks anyway. Sorry for interrupting your essay.”

“It’s alright,” Bitty repeats, but Jack’s already out the door.

Bitty slumps into his seat and stares at his closed door. He really didn’t mean to hurt Jack, but he didn’t think what he said would be that much of a shock either. Jack’s not ignorant to emotion, no-matter what the news articles sometimes say about him.

He swings his chair back round to stare at his essay, starting up on it again as a distraction.

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I am so interested in romantic stevebucky that develops from a deep platonic life-partnership first. I love stories about Brooklyn pining, and Bucky and Steve mutually stifling their romantic/sexual feelings about each other, but what I love best is Steve and Bucky knowing that they’re family. Steve being unworried about Bucky’s dates because Bucky always comes home to him, so what does it matter, really? Bucky becoming Steve’s next of kin after Steve’s mom dies. Bucky, on the war front, saying he doesn’t have a girl back home, but man, wait until you hear about my spitfire best friend. Bucky watching Steve fall in love with Peggy a little and being happy for him, because he knows that he’s not going to be replaced, and it’s good to see Steve smile like that. Steve and Bucky, platonic life partners.

Then, after tws, imagine Bucky starting to put the pieces together, and he looks at his relationship with Steve and goes, Oh. We were definitely in love. And he tells this to Steve, or maybe he kisses him, he kisses him and Steve is so confused.

“Isn’t this something we used to do?” Bucky asks him.

“No,” Steve says, shell-shocked.

“Oh,” Bucky says. “Sorry.” And then he drops the subject.

Except then Steve starts thinking about it. About him and Bucky, about that kiss, and he thinks, well, why on Earth did Bucky put that together? Because he hasn’t–he’s never–it wasn’t ever like that. Not really. But now he’s watching the curve of Bucky’s jaw, illuminated by the sunlight coming through the window, Bucky’s metal hand glinting where it rests on the kitchen counter, and he can’t stop watching. And maybe it takes a while–with Steve it usually takes a while–but eventually Bucky will laugh, tipping his head back with the force of it. Bucky will laugh and Steve will feel his heart constrict in his chest, and he’ll think, well, maybe I wasn’t in love with him then but I sure as hell am now.

So next time Bucky’s close enough to him, Steve will put his hands on either side of Bucky’s face and kiss him, saying, “Buck, you’re my family, you’ve always been my family. But you can have this too if you want it.”

Bucky just looks at him with fond exasperation, mutters “Don’t know how I kept my hands off you for all those years,” and loops an arm around Steve’s waist to pull him closer.

Butterfly Wings

Pidge:

The first time Lance walked into the common room without makeup on early in the morning, Hunk cried.
Hunk had known about Lance’s Vitiligo since early days in the Garrison when he had accidentally walked in on him while changing. Since then Hunk had worked as a one person protection squad ready to kill anyone that so much as glanced at Lance the wrong way.
He had known that Allura knew about Lance’s skin since he had told Hunk almost immediately after it had happened.
However he had never expected that only a few days later Lance would come stumbling into the kitchen first thing in the morning, hair messed up from sleep and eyes half closed; only wearing his boxers and a white vest causing the pale patches that ran across his arms, back, neck and face to be perfectly visible.
Hunk couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so proud of his best friend. This truly was an achievement.
Lance looked over at Hunk opening his mouth and pointing at it demanding his breakfast.
Hunk only rolled his eyes and laughed swatting at the blue paladin with a wooden spoon. “Foods almost done, so sit down and don’t complain.”
“Ok Hunky dory” Lance teased sitting at the long table with his head rested on his arms snoozing till the space porridge was ready.
For a few minutes everything was peaceful.
Then Pidge walked into the kitchen and stopped in their tracks staring at Lance.
Before Hunk even realised what was going on, they were already rushing over to the snoozing paladin with a panicked look on their face.
“Oh my god Lance what happened to you!?”
Hunk flinched. He prayed that Lance hadn’t heard anything, that he won’t have to deal with this again.
However Hunk wasn’t that lucky.
Lance slowly straightened up looking at Pidge was a forced smile.
Pidge gasped seeing the pale patches also on his face.
“Nothing happened Pidge, im fine.” He shrugged casually but Hunk could see he was practically curling in on himself.
“Fine!” Pidge exclaimed “Lance have you looked in the mirror today?! There’s something wrong with your skin it could be an alien parasite for all we know!”
Lance bit his lip, the effort not to cry so intense that he managed to draw blood. “Pidge I’m fine this is just… how my skin is.”
“B-but how!?” Pidge asked looking over at Hunk. They were shocked to see the usually gentle yellow paladin shaking with rage.
“Pidge stop.” Hunk hissed through gritted teeth.
“Hunk its fine…” Lance tried putting a hand to his mouth to hide the cut.
“No it’s not!” Hunk snapped putting the spoon down and glared at at Pidge. “You remember when we kept badgering you about your gender. Asking you why your like this and what’s wrong with you?”
Pidge looked confused and a little scared “n-no.”
“Exactly. Because we knew it would hurt you to ask such things, yet here you are doing the same thing to Lance.”
Pidge looked down guilty “I’m… I’m sorry Lance I just… I didn’t know what it was and I was worried.”
Lance smiled hugging the smaller paladin from behind “it’s ok, a lot of people don’t know what it is and can kinda freak seeing it the first time. I really am not sick, it’s just how my skin is. I’m fine.”
Hunk pretended not to notice how Lance’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.
And he pretended not to notice when the next morning Lance came to breakfast in his normal clothes and his makeup back on.

Understand

MASTERLIST

Request: y/n being insecure about herself and about love.

Word count: 2,534

Cracking noises from the flames in the beige brick fireplace hanging on the wall, filled the otherwise silent living room. These faint but warm noises always made me feel somehow calm.

I loved the heat filling up the room, I loved shutting my eyes and listen to the flames crack slowly, I loved how it all felt like home to me.

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4

joshgad: This has been a battle of attrition. #daisyridley has been a force to be reckoned with. In many ways she is the Vader to my Luke or the Taylor to my Katy. But like any good opponent, I have tried to outmaneuver her at every turn. This will be her final judgement. May the force be with her, because kids, she is going to need it. All I ask is that you don’t ruin the surprise for others. #TheLastJedi#starwars#broughtsomefriendsalongfortheride@disney @starwars

I looked from my laptop up as my sister Angie came into my room.

“Hey Zack, what’s up?” she said

“Hey sis. I just heard from Stephanie. She has too much work to do this weekend, and she can’t make it back.” Our older sister was in college and had been planning to come back for the three day weekend that now stretched out before us.

“That sucks. So are mom and dad at that conference?”

“No, they are out for tonight, back in the morning. Then they leave for it tomorrow morning, and will be gone until Monday night.”

“So, more or less, the house to ourselves for the entire weekend?”

“Yep.” I said with a grin. The two of us had always been really close, and we were looking forward to a relaxing weekend with just each other. My little sister returned my grin and her eyes lit up. She was two years younger than me, but was always more mischievous than I.

“Dinner?” she asked

“Leftovers”

She shrugged and left my room. It was early still, and I returned to finishing my homework on my laptop. It was Friday and I wanted to be done for the weekend.

***

Later that night, having finished dinner, Angie and I were sitting on the couch, watching a movie. She was curled up against me, with my arm draped over her. As the movie ended, I switched the TV and looked and my baby sister. Her face was furrowed and she looked like she was considering something serious.

“What’s up sis?” I asked. She looked up at me.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Anything”

“It’s kind of awkward and personal”

“Anything you ever want to talk about, I will be here for you Angie” I said. I squeezed her tighter with one arm and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Thanks Zack, I know. Are you a virgin?”

I flushed a bit, but answered truthfully

“Yes. And I assume you are as well” I knew my sister well enough that she would tell me why she asked without prompting.

“Yes, I am. Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked as a blush rose to her cheeks and she turned away.

Rather than respond immediately, with the obvious ‘yes’ I looked as my little sister as a woman, not a girl, taking in her features. She was tall, about 5’10” and thin. She had an incredibly toned and trimmed body from the years and years of gymnastics that she was so found of. Rich chocolate brown hair that cascaded midway down her back. Small breasts, no larger than an A cup, but they sat perfectly on her petite frame that any larger would have looked absurd.

“I think you are beautiful” I replied, and I genuinely meant it. Angie’s eyes lit up, and she could tell my compliment was honest. I pulled her closer to me and planted a kiss on her forehead. She returned my embrace and beamed up at me. Then the smile faded into a look of unease. I could tell she was trying to work her way around to telling me why she asked about my history with women.

“I asked because I figured … well … we know each other really well … and we love each other a lot … and … we are both virgins … and alone … and well…” Her face flushed and she turned away from me, embarrassed.

I looked at my little sister, my mind jumbled, my body fighting for the blood my brain needed to make decisions. A squeezed her closer and brought my left hand around to her chin. I forced her face to turn back to mine, and saw tears of embarrassment shining in her eyes. I planted a kiss full on her lips, the first time I had kissed a girl in all my years. After the longest thirty seconds of my life, we broke apart and caught our breath. We looked into each other’s eyes, and I asked her,

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely. Do you, Zack?”

“Yes, Angie, I really do.”

“I love you, big brother.”

“I love you, little sister.”

Our lips locked again, and I could see many of my emotions reflected in my baby sister’s eyes. Lust warred with love, each seeking to blot out the other. Our lips parted and my tongue slipped into her mouth, as hers slipped into mine.

I rolled her over, and sat my sister on my lap. Our lips met again, and my hands wandered over her tight back. I pulled her closer to me, out chests meeting and our kiss never breaking. She started to shift her hips back and forth in my lap. Her small breasts rubbed against my chest and my cock started to harden with the constant motion. I shifted one hand down, to grip her tight ass, and the other up to her chest to cup one of her lovely tits. Her hands wandered over my chest and out tongues stilled warred in each other’s mouths.

Our kiss broke, and Angie shifted back slightly on my lap. We were both breathless, and for a moment, the only noise in the room was our breathing.

“That was my first kiss, sis” I said, and she giggled at me.

“Mine too” she said still smiling. There was a long pause before she asked, “Do you want to go further?”

In answer I grabbed her and she squealed with delight as I pulled her back to my lips. Her hands found my chest again, and then started to go lower. She found the hem of my shirt, and began to pull it up. I felt a tingle as the cool air rushed over my warm skin. She pulled the shirt higher and higher, and finally we were forced to break off our kiss as the shirt passed over my head. As soon as it was on the floor, we kissed again.

Then slowly, my hands came around to her firm hips. I grabbed the shirt and raised it up slowly. Our kiss broke again, and I pulled off her shirt and threw it on the floor. I looked at my sister, sitting on my lap, our skin touching. Her skin was pale, as was mine, and against that white background, the rainbow striped bra on her chest looked even more vibrant. It was about a 32-34 A, and seemed to delight in cling to such nubile curves. We resumed our passionate kissing, and she resumed grinding her crotch into mine.

After a few more minutes of this, I stopped her and pried my sister off of me. She looked confused for a moment, but when she saw the grin of desire on my face, lust overtook her. I stood her up in front of me, and reached for the belt around her waist. I unfastened it, and reached for the button on her jeans. I undid it, and drew down the zipper, the hooked my fingers under the waist band of her pants. In one fluid motion, I dropped the pants to the ground, and as she stepped out of them, I looked at her sky blue panties. Under my gaze, she squirmed a bit, and flushed embarrassed.

“Stand up, bro. It’s not fair that you’re wearing pants.” She whined playfully.

I stood, and her hands were at my waist, undoing my belt, as her lips found mine again. She reached for the zipper on my pants, and the next thing I knew, my pants were around my ankles. I stepped out of them, and fell back onto the couch, grabbing Angie as I went. She sat, straddling me, as we kissed again. We looked at one another, and nervous laughter rose in our throats. She resumed grinding our crotches together, but this time, but with only her sky blue panties and my red boxers on, the feeling was much more intense. My cock was rock hard at this point, and only the weight of my baby sister was holding it down. She was also getting into it, I realized, as I saw a damp spot growing on her panties. I kissed her again and again, one hand around the tight muscles of her ass, and the other around her back, snaking up to the back of her head, holding her close to me.

I looked down, breaking off our kiss, and looked at our bodies. Angie had on only her sky blue panties and rainbow striped bra, and I with only red boxers. Our flesh gleamed with sweat and her body, sculpted from almost a decade of gymnastics, was taut and perfect. She started pushing our bodies together faster and harder, and my cock started rubbing against her pussy.

At the same time, completely independent of each other, our hands started to reach towards our lap. Mine trailed down her chest, her taut stomach, and came to rest just on the elastic band that held her underwear up. Her hand did the same thing to my body. She raised her hips, and I slowly inched my fingers down on to her sweat mound, feeling the fabric under my touch, and beneath that, my sister’s warm wetness. Her hand traced its way over my boxers to the base of my straining erection.

She began to stroke my cock through my boxers, as I began to run my hand over her pussy. The friction of her hand and my boxers on my dick sent a wave of pleasure through my body. I rubbed her faster and faster, and in response she stroked me faster still. Our hips ground together, our hands rubbed at the others genitals and we saw bliss reflected in each other’s eyes. Her wet spot grew larger and she began to moan, softly at first, then louder as I groaned at my need for release.

Angie’s breathing got faster and faster and I could feel her trembling. I could also feel my own orgasm getting closer. All at once, we both stiffened and moaned. We both orgasmed in our underwear and collapsed on to the couch. We lay there for the span of several long, shuttering breaths, my sister’s lithe body draped over my larger one, her face pressed against my shoulder. Finally reality reasserted itself, and I looked over at her.

“Well…” Angie said, before we both burst into laughter. We laughed long and loud, uncontrollably, until we were both gasping for air. We were not laughing at anything, but we could not stop.

Our merriment finally subsided and we looked back at each other. I could feel a contented smile on my face, and it was reflected on my baby sister’s.

“That felt amazing, Zack.” She sighed, contentedly.

“You too, Angie.” I replied, giving her a squeeze. She giggled and writhed on my lap, rubbing our sodden underwear together. We both looked down and laughed again.

“Shower?” I asked.

“Together.” She responded. “Just let me get my breath back.”

We sat there for another few minutes, until Angie rolled off of me, and we stood up. We gathered our clothes, and I chased her up stairs to the bathroom we shared. We turned the water on, and as it heated up, started kissing again. Our mouths joined together, and we embraced tightly.

My hands roamed across her back, and found the hooks of her rainbow bra. I unclasped them, and peeled off the garment. Then I got my first real look at my sister’s naked breasts. They were small, but perky and sat perfectly on her slight body. I let my hands wander lower and lower until I felt her small tight ass. I slipped two fingers under the elastic band of her sky blue panties and slid them around to her hips. All at once, I jerked my hands down, carrying her underwear with them. I beheld her virgin pussy for the first time in my life. She was unshaven, and the coarse brown hair stood out in contrast to her perfectly smooth legs.

She blushed and turned away from me, allowing me a perfect view of her perfect, tiny ass. I drew her close to me and planted a kiss on the top of her head. I could see her smile and feel her relax and she turned back around and reached down. Her hands gripped the waistband of my boxers and eased them down. My erection was now back in full swing, and popped out. I was also unshaven. It was the first time I had ever been exposed to someone in a sexual manner. We stepped out of the clothes around our ankles, and kissed again.

My sister and I drew back the shower curtain and slipped inside. The warm water and close confines made me feel as though my head was in a fog. We started washing each other all over. My hands, lathered with soapy water, found their way around her back and came to rest on her petite breasts. I savored the experience, my first real skin to skin sexual contact with her, as I began to massage her boobs. Angie started to whimper slightly, and then as I tweaked her tiny nipples, she let out a moan.

I left off and snaked my hands down lower and lower. I ran my hands over her tight legs, higher and higher. Her lean calves, her firm thighs, and then above that, the golden territory, all covered with soap and water. A thought crossed my mind and I rested my hand on her bush, and asked

“Why shave your legs, and not up here?”

“Because,” her response was bashful, “I was afraid it would hurt if I slipped.”

“Do you want me to help you?”

“Yes. But not right now. You got me wound up, and I need release.”

I grinned and slid my right hand over her mound as my left worked its way back to her tits. There was wetness there that had nothing to do with the shower. I began to stroke my middle finger up and down her slit, and my index and ring finger along the outside of her pussy. My left hand was massaging her breast and my right spread her lips wide open. She moaned her desire and I plunged my middle finger deep into my baby sister’s pussy. The gasped and shudder at the sudden intrusion, and cried out three words

“Oh God Yes!”

I started to work the top of her pussy with my thumb, and began to thrust my middle finger in and out of her sweat confines. She was incredibly warm, tight, and wet. It felt like my finger was being sucked in on every pump. Angie moaned louder and louder, and I thrust faster and faster. Her arms wrapped around my right arm, and her hand went down to cover mine, forcing me deeper into her. I tweaked her nipple and thrust deep into her. All at once, she seized up and froze completely, her muscles locking, and I would have sworn she even stopped breathing for a second.

My sister would have collapsed onto the floor if my arms had not been wrapped around her. She hung like a rag doll in my arms for several minutes, getting her breath back, her ass still pressed to my straining erection. She finally turned to me and, planting a kiss on my lips, moaned,

“Thank you. That was amazing.”

I grinned at her, and she tiredly returned the expression. We continued washing for a few minutes, until I found myself facing the showerhead, Angie behind me. She unexpectedly grabbed me in an embrace, and whispered in my ear,

“Your turn big bro.”

Her breasts were pressed to my back and her arms were around my chest. Her soapy hands slid down to my cock and delicately traced over my pubic hair.

“I like you like this. Don’t shave it.” I could hear the grin in her voice. I grinned back and shook my head.

“Anything for you, little sis.”

She kissed my neck and grasped my dick with her warm, wet, slippery hand. She slid her hand up and down my shaft, while sliding her other hand over my chest. Her small hands pumped me again and again, until I was right on the verge. Then she slid her other hand down and grabbed my balls. It was too much for me, and I came all over the front of the shower.

I turned around and kissed my sister again and again, each kiss deeper and more passionate than the last. We finished up in the shower and stepped out. Looking at the clock, we realized with a start that our parents would be home soon. We quickly went into Angie’s room and she bent over to rummage through her dresser for something to ware. I did not help the process by taking that opportunity to grab and start massaging her firm ass. She playfully slapped my hands away and threw on some pajamas. We went to my room and repeated the process, but in reverse.

“So, I am looking forward to a fun weekend.” She said.

“Me too.” I grinned “Just the two of us from Saturday afternoon to Monday night.”

“I think we are going to have a lot of fun.”

“Me too.”

“I love you, Zack.”

“I love you, Angie.”

Writing is Hard, Part 4: Dry Humping

Summary: Dean doesn’t understand the allure of dry humping.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3000ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


“Where does Sam think you are right now?”

Dean shrugs at you, hair dripping from the light rain that’s falling. “Can I come in?”

You head back for your chair, next to the table that holds your pizza, and leave the door open behind you. Dean follows, shrugging out of his jacket and shaking his head like a dog, though his hair is too short for it to do much good. “I told Sam I was coming to your room,” he says, a forced casual tone to his voice as he drops that bomb.

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6

Emma Thompson, Very Serious Dramatic Actor™

Mrs. Lovett, what a charming notion                                                      Eminently practical and yet appropriate, as always!                                    Oh, Mrs. Lovett                                                                                            How I’ve lived without you all these years I’ll never know!

Missing Homework (SMUT)

(IF YOU LIKED THIS I HAVE A SEPERATE SMUT BLOG “Because We All Sin a Little” Plz follow! Thank you for the awesome support!!) 

Namjoon x Reader Smut (Teacher AU)

Word Count: 2049

Your POV

“Dammit, I should have just copied the work off someone else,” you thought as you stayed behind for lunch as your teacher had something to “discuss” with you. You knew it had to do with the ton of missing assignments that you had been putting off. It wasn’t your fault you had to practically take care of your parents and siblings! And really, you didn’t exactly find his subject very interesting, so why waste your time.

“Good luck!,” your friend called before she closed the door behind her, leaving you and your teacher, Mr.Kim, alone in the room. His room was rather simple, as expected from the rather blunt male. He was rather notorious for giving straight forward answers and opinions, but every student knew he was a very kind and gentle man at heart. He had a soft spot for individually helping kids when they were really struggling if they approached him.

Yet, there was something about him that was rather…oppressive. Maybe the way he walked with his long legs, crossing the rather large classroom in a mere second, or the way his eyes would squint at you as you read a passage, burning up your cheeks. He was always so commanding and in control, and you loved it.

Namjoon POV

There she stood, with her hunched shoulders and feet shuffling in spot. Her obedient tendencies, to say yes at every question and divert her eyes when he looked at her, brought out a different side of him. A side not all women enjoyed it, but, perhaps, young Miss (Y/N) would.

Of course she was wearing her school uniform, the navy and green plaid skirt riding a bit high from just having stood up. The white, longsleeve button down straining just a bit over her breats, and the small, black scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her knee high socks clung to her tanned legs, her slight heels gave her calves a small enhancement and caused her to walk with a bit of a sway . A striking image of a sweet, innocent, submissive schoolgirl.

“What did I do in my past life to get this kind of opportunity,” he thought with a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Third Person POV

“Come sit (Y/N),” Namjoon said. In his usually, slightly rough, voice.

(Y/N) walked across the room, her heels slightly echoing in the emptiness, only increasing what felt like a thundercloud of tension, possibly sexual?

You take a seat and place your hands on your knees, not crossing your legs.

“I’m sure you are aware of why I had you hang back to speak with me?,” Namjoon asked

“Sir, I know I haven’t done most of my work, I’m really sorry I just don’t hav–”

Namjoon cuts you off, “It’s alright I understand, you are a growing lady and your responsibilities have increased,” he says. With a rather calming tone in his voice. “However, I have too keep them as zeros until I get some work from you, why don’t you stay here for the next few lunches and try to get some work done during the day?”

“Stay in a room, with just me and Mr. Kim, for a whole 45 minutes? And he expects nothing to happen? I’ll die of tension if I have to stay here with him,” you think. But at the same time, you know you have to get this work done.

“Alright, I’ll try and finish as much work as I can!” you say in the most motivated way you can muster.

10 minutes later

“God if I have to put up with looking at her for another minute i’m going to explode.”

“How can he just sit there and still look so powerful?”

“Fuck this…”

You look up and see Namjoon standing on the other side of your desk, looming over you.

“Y-Yes, Mr.Kim,” you manage to stutter, trying not to bring ur eyes down to the level of his pelvic region, which happened to be at a perfect height for you.

“(Y/N), come to my desk please,” he says, his voice a bit deeper than before.  

You almost stumble getting up, and walk with Namjoon over to his, rather large, desk. You stand at a corner while he crosses in front of you and takes a seat on his chair. He subtly runs his eyes up and down your figure, slightly noticing your feet shuffle, your trademark sign of nervousness.

“Come sit,” Namjoon says as he pats his thigh. You almost fall backwards in shock at the random request, and Namjoon simply smirks and grabs your wrist to bring you onto his lap. Your knees fold in between his thighs as you feel you ass resting on the fabric of his pants.

You try not to face him, for his face is a mere inch from yours. You can feel your cheeks heating up and you heartbeat getting louder by the second.

You tried squirming to get your skirt under your ass to stop your further wetting core from getting onto his pants, but Namjoon wraps his long arm around you and squeezes your waist.

“Um, M-Mr.Kim, what a-are you doing?” you manage to finally say.

He pulls his lips up into his signature smirk and moves his other hand to you hip wrapping you in his arms. “Now princess, we both know that something was bothering both of us,” he starts, his eyes staring all over you causing you to slightly squirm more, “and I think it’s better if we just address it before you can finish up you work.”

At that flipped you so you were facing him and straddling his legs, his chest touching yours. You squeaked in surprise at the quick movement, and felt his breath on you. He grabbed your chin and forced you to face him. His eyes looking over your whole face as he smirked and ran his thumb across your cheek, “look how soft my princess’s skin is.”

“M-Mr.Ki-” he silenced you with his lips on yours.

“Hush baby girl, and I’m no longer Mr.Kim okay?” He picked you up by your thighs and placed your back onto his desk. “I’m daddy from now on.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You had no idea where this was going, how you got here, but you just knew that you liked it, you liked it very much.

“Good girl princess, that sounds so good coming from your pretty little mouth.”

He slides his hands down your clothed chest and untied your scarf, then he began unbuttoning you blouse, so slowly and meticulously, savoring every new bit of skin. He took off your shirt and looked down at you. Already so hot with just your light pink bra and small skirt riding up to where he could see your matching panties. He licked his lips just imagining violating ur precious little body.

“Look at me princess, give me your wrists,” he commanded as he undid his tie. You simply looked up at him and obliged, biting you lips. He tied his tie on your wrists binding your two hands, the soft fabric tightening on your skin with every knot. Namjoon kissed your knuckles and let your hands fall above your head.

“Now, you need to make sure your hands stay above your head okay baby girl? You don’t want to make daddy upset on your first time, do you?”

You meekly shook you head, “No daddy.”

“Will you be a good princess for me?”

“Yes daddy”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He smirked and kissed you softly.

Namjoon moved down to your chest, pulling each breast out of their cups. He brought his head down and began suckling on one while kneading the other and pinching your tits. His tongue swirled around one bud and then he transferred sides, showing love to each. His thick lips perfectly encased your tit and his fingers playfully teased the other. All you could do was gasp at each touch and moaned lie never before.

“Is my princess already so enthralled? Daddy hasn’t even gotten started yet baby girl.” He joked, noticing your already helpless state.

“D-Daddy please, oh god, daddy you feel so good.”

“My baby girl is so good. Look at you, already coming undone for me.” He went down again, slightly biting you bud. Causing you to gasp and whimper slightly at the soft pain.

Namjoon moved down your body, leaving soft butterfly kisses across your belly, giving you goosebumps. Reaching the line of your skirt, he slowly pulled it off, admiring the progressive appearance of you soft pink panties with small white lace borders. He threw your skirt off to the side, again staring about your beautiful body.

He smiled at your panties and ran his index under the band, “these look so good on you princess, I’ll have to buy you more sets like these.” He bent down over your body, pressing you under his chest, his groin slightly brushing yours. “My baby girl should always look this precious,” Namjoon whispered in your ear before pulling back and kissing you again.

Hooking one finger under your panties again, he slipped them off, smirking at how soaked they already were. As he tossed them, he marveled in how absolutely sinful you looked. Your cheeks were burning red, your breathing shallow, and you body glistening in a light sheen of sweat. Your pussy practically dripping for Namjoon to just lick right up.

“Princess, you look so beautiful right now, daddy is thinking of all the ways he could fuck you up right now.” Namjoon says as he runs his thumb on your knee.

“Daddy please, daddy I- I need you, p-please,” you manage to get out in between choppy breaths.

“Tell me what you want from me baby girl,” Namjoon says, his voice going husky and his hands lightly skimming the skin of your inner thigh. It gave you goosebumps and only made you breathe harder.

“I want daddy to lick me, please daddy,” you plead through moans.

“That’s it baby girl,” he says as he lowers his head to your dripping pussy, “Look how pretty you are princess.”

Namjoon takes his tongue and runs in once through your folds, watching you shiver and moan. Then, while his thumb rubs your clit, he sucks you into his lips, licking up every drop on your core. He works his tongue in between your folds, and slips it in and out of your pussy.

“Oh daddy yeessss, keep doing that, please daddy,” you moan. Namjoon’s lips and tongue overflow every sense you have, his soft lips encasing you.

“Yeah princesses, you like it when daddy licks ur sexy little clit baby girl? Daddy can do this all day sweetheart, I’m here to make my princess feel so special.”

“Daddy, don’t stop daddy, I’m gonna cum.”

“I wanna taste my baby girls jucies, cum for me my sexy little princess.” Namjoon says as he continues to wrap your pussy in his soft lips.

You feel your whole body come undone, your legs buck under the pleasure, and you cum all over your daddy’s face.

Namjoon looks down at you again, after having licked up you cum. You were still breathing hard and your legs still shaking. Your eyes were closed and slowly opened to meet his gaze. 

“Princess, do you know how fucking sinful you look right now,” Namjoon says with his sexy smirk back as he pulls you up off the desk, holding onto your shoulders to help you keep your balance. He takes your chin again and places a light kiss on your lips and sets another on your forehead.

“Now lets get you dressed, hmm?”

He helps you gather all your clothes and puts your shoes back on. “You know baby girl, you have to come back next lunch to finish up your other work,” he says with a devious smile.

“Don’t worry daddy, I’ll make sure to get all my work done next time.” You reply, a small smile playing on your lips at the new name you have for your teacher.

“That’s what daddy likes to hear, princess,” Namjoon playfully growls in your ear, grabbing your ass through your skirt.

“See you tomorrow.” 

Secrets

MASTERLIST

Requested: yes

Word count: 2,611

Small echoes from the few passing cars rang in my ears, as the sun started to burn properly into my skin. My heavy feet dragged themselves across the street, aching every step of the way. They always hurt like this, whenever I’d joined the boys for their early morning workout.

Though, I didn’t quite want to admit it, I simply couldn’t keep up with them. Especially Geoff was a beast and contingently mocked me, every time I had to stop and catch my breath.

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Take a Chance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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SHORT IMAGINE

Originally posted by purposeheaders

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR JUSTIN! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!” 

The crowd surrounding the table the cake rest on began cheering as Justin leant over and blew the twenty three surrounding candles placed around the cake.

Once all 23 flames the candles held were blown and shifting into a small stream of smoke, Scooter approached the boy handing him a large silver knife. Justin smiled before cutting into the cake, right until the edge reached the bottom. 

“You touched the bottom!” Jazzy yelled. “Now you gotta kiss a girl.” 

Justin smiled, sliding the knife out of the cake and onto the platter beside it, before leaning over and placing his lips upon mine. With a smile on my face, holding back a laugh, the crowd of family and friends all cheered around us as Justin began to pull away.

His hand slivered over, taking mine in his as he tangled our fingers together before lifting it to his lips, placing a sweet kiss on my wedding ring.

“What did you wish for honey?” Pattie asked. 

Justin smiled, his eyes wandering over to mine “I can’t tell you, or else it might not come true.” 

“That’s just bulshit, c’mon tell us JB!” Khalil shouted from somewhere in the crowd. A few other comments where thrown around throughout Justin’s boys causing a small chuckle to escape his lips at the commotion.

“Aight, aight! I’ll tell you. I wished that we” He squeezed my hand “finally have a bit more luck, receive God’s blessing and get what we’ve wanted since the day we were married.”

Staring into Justin’s eyes, I could see a slight sparkle to them and I instantly knew my face was as red as tomato. “Thank’s baby boy.” I whispered, snuggling closer to his body. Looking over towards Pattie, I spotted her smiling at me, with a look of knowledge in her eyes.

“You guys are so cute it disgusts me.” Maejor sighed. “Time to open presents!” 

The kids got up and squealed in excitment, running over towards the living room. The adults followed suit with smiles on there faces as Pattie, Diane and Chelsey stayed back to cut and hand out the cake. 

My hand slithered out of Justin’s grasp, turning towards them to help before Pattie quickly darted over to my side, pushing me back into the living room. “Oh no you don’t! It’s your husband’s birthday and he’s about to open his presents, go sit with him.”

“Pattie that’s nice really, but I’m not gonna leave you three to do all the work, theres over 50 people here.” 

“And we will handle it. You - just sit down.” With a nudge, I was in the living room walking over to Justin’s side. Justin peeked up, his face lifting up into a smile at sight of me. After placing myself on Justin’s lap, Jeremy was first to walk forward, handing Justin a small box wrapped in birthday paper.

“Thanks dad.” Justin smiled. 

“Happy birthday son.”

After ripping the paper off, Justin was left staring at a box laced with velvet. Picking up the lid, he was met with a beautiful thin gold chain and a brand new guitar pick with the words ‘Music is love, but family is life’ engraved on it.

After thanking his father and opening a few more presents, it was only a matter of time before it was finally my turn. At this point every one had eaten there cake and was sitting in the living room, all ready to open the last present presented by me.

I stood off my husbands lap, walking over to the corner I had left the gift bag in. handing the white bag with the words ‘happy birthday’ written all over it to Justin, I watched as Justin smiled, placing a kiss to my lips.

“You didn’t need to buy me anything baby. Everything I want is right here.”

I smiled at his kind words before forcing him take the bag “Believe me, I think you’ll like it.”

After taking the beg from my hands, he slowly pulled the tissue I stuffed in at the top and tossed it into a ball on the floor beside him with the rest of the wrapping paper.

A confused look crossed his face as he peered inside, searching through a few of the items. Everyone else around us stood back and watched in anticipation and curiosity as to what was in the bag, all until Justin’s face went pale, everyone elses turned to confusion. All except mine.

“What is it?” I smiled.

“Yeah Justin what is it?” Za added. A few similar comments repeated around the room.

Justin didn’t bother looking up, instead just leant back and placed both hands over his face, the bag still in his lap. Tears brimmed in my eyes at his reaction, watching as his body jumped a few times from the sobs he let out.

“Justin baby what’s wrong?!” Pattie yelled in confusion and shock. She stood from her seat, prepared to run forward and comfort her son before I put a hand forward and smiled, mouthing ‘wait’.

Slowly she placed herself back on the seat and watched on, still looking slightly worried. 

“What is it baby?” I smiled, a slight giggle escaping my lips. 

He ignored my question, only leaning his elbow on his knee, with one hand over his eyes. “Are you serious?” He sobbed in disbelief.

“Yeah.” I cooed, allowing a tear to fall down my cheek. 

Justin finally removed his hand from his face, wiping the discarded tears from his eyes before looking back into the bag and picking out two items from the very top. A bib and a pacifier.

Everyone around us gasped, all with smiles on there faces. “Your pregnant?!” Chelsey yelled with a smile. 

Without responding, I leant back into my handbag beside me, pulling out the test I had taken two weeks prior. Giving everyone one glance at the stick, before handing it to Justin who had once again began crying.

“Happy birthday Baby…Or should I say daddy?” I chuckled. 

“Guess you won’t be the only one calling him that anymore!” Za yelled. Everyone chuckled as Justin moved forward and engulfed me in his arms. A few seconds passed before his lips met mine once again and I noticed that as he did all this, his hands never left the spot which was beginning to swell with a beautiful and well earned baby.



Request are open!

ch. 1

Bad Habits || Jaebum

Originally posted by jjaenyoung

(THIS GIF IS SO HOT LIKE !!!!!!)

Reader (you) x Jaebum

Word Count: 1398

Warnings: none :)

note: i re-wrote this chapter i think 12321 times and idk if i’m completely satisfied with it BUT HERE IT IS! THE FIRST CHAPTER OF MAFIA!JB. hope you guys enjoy it and yeah…. happy reading and take care! -admin


Nighttime had always been the time when the demons came out to play; to bring out the worst in some people.Others may describe the night as downtown being lit up by the neon colors of the clubs and bars, shining on the rain-kissed sidewalks. However, in the night, I could be anybody and no-one would care who I really was.

My heels clicked on the sidewalk as I pulled my jacket closer to my body. As I passed by people, I observed their cheerful behavior and smiled. It reminded me of home of when I used to hang around my friends, laughing my head off like how these people were. However, moving to Korea alone was the result of my smile fading away. I wish I had friends here who I could go out with at night to bond over a drinks or share stories of our past. But all of them were at home and I was alone.

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Pages From A Book

Prompt: Roman is really close friends with the reader (hugs, kisses on the head, cuddling without sexual contact). He overhears a conversation with her and her close friend where she admits she’s been in love with him for ages but would never do anything because he’s married. He confronts her and she feels embarrassed and starts avoiding him. He’s hurt and misses her, trying to reach out every so often. He sees her finally getting herself together and dating someone new. Finally one night he can’t take it and goes to her room, telling her he’s always loved her. There are tears and desperation but they end up sleeping together. Open ending preferred.- Anon

This one really gave me fits guys, but I hope you like it!

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