notch back

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 yourself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. You were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.

And then you heard his name.

Followed by yours.

Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.

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

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

About sex in cinema.

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

“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I can come with you if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

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

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

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

Even though his expression seemed to say something else.

Oh god. His expression was saying something else.

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

And you knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.

And it made no difference at all.

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

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

“You think everything is cool between us?”

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

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

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

“That last one is getting close.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.

Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.

“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”

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

“But I figure we can work on it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just closed his eyes.

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

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

“I believe you.”

“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 your awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.

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

As did his silence.

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

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 your face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.

“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”

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

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

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

His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.

“Maybe she doesn’t care.”

“I guess not.”

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

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

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

Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath hitched.

“You do those things?”

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

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

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

But then he kept going.

He kept going.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah but after…”

“After 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

anonymous asked:

maddy i love yr blog but yr caesar love is the most unrelatable content in the world. i respect caesar theoretically but ive had to translate the fucking gallic war this semester and heres my big take: hes no good. he thinks good sentences r 10 lines long and he wants 2 fuck ablative absolutes. he has a shrine 2 them w roses and candles and an engagement ring for when the time is right. hes a bad garbage man. 0/10

this ask is poetry and i can respect it

Be My ♥ Color

a/n: be more chill x soulmate au. :o if you wanna be tagged in the series letmeknow.kbyethanx. Updates on Thursdays & Sundays. Any Filipino friends/readers wanna help me out :0 Michael being biracial I wanna have a little more substance to him. I’m hispanic so I have one side of him covered but its unfair to only depict that side. I’d love the input/help to give Michael all of his canon qualities ^^ pleaseandthankyou
summary:  Jeremy Heere never knew he missed something until he realized he was living a world not only devoid of colors but of a soulmate. After a terrible incident he’s found himself chasing after colors he wants; and realizing there are some colors he needs as well.
warning: He’s a mean one, Mr. Squip
w/c: ~3.1k
sincerely tagging:
@guns-and-squips (betabae); @mishaisakitten@fandomgeek34@theunidentifiedfangirl @gayrhodians @ka-rin7204 @nekothecatblog @binxi1031 @spilling-tea @loststardraws @green-llama @walkingcontadiction @purpledays9@bouquetofllamas@hacks-the-trash @spoiledbuni @angryhatefulcoffee-man @gum-and-chips @redhoodiehearts @icouldhaveabettername@bemoresquip@anxiouscassette @bigdumbpigeon @blind-duck@multiotp @cherry-chree@violentwonders @memejocksupreme@fruityfrootloops @optimisticweirdo@beafayette @bacongirl86@ho-tdogwater @cloudydoodle@treebrosofficial@hamilamstrash @artsietango @bellatrixmld@strawberrrylips @vermilion-blues @ 8955342113853211 @bellatrixmld @strawberrrylips @chessy-is-confused @treebrosofficial @cough-syyrup @imfeelingay

04.←Enter to Continue →.05


“What do you mean we WON’T be doing a Midsummer Night’s Dream!” Christine groaned after being peeled off the ground and placed on a chair, holding  an ice pack someone had run to the nurse and got for her. She looked up at Mr. Squip then turned to Mr. Reyes who didn’t seem as bothered about all this as Christine.

“Mr.Squip and …the board suggested a slightly …different approach so we can attract more of a crowd this year.” He explained calmly.

Christine shook her head and slowly placed the ice pack aside. “What’s wrong with Shakespeare’s approach on theater!?”

“He’s DEAD, Canigula, let him go.” Mr. Reyes sighed, then slowly walked over to her and whispered. “The popular kids are going to be lending a hand, with them on board we have a chance of saving the theater!”

“But sir, since when does the theater sell out it’s morals like this?” She pressed one final time.

Keep reading

2

🎀Everybody loves dragons, right?💎

anonymous asked:

can you do a hanzo x reader where he fires a scatter arrow into a small room of enemies but he doesn't see you in there and as the enemies drop to the ground he sees you fall to your knees with an arrow in your chest? (Reader doesn't die but she comes close)


Hanzo smirked as he climbed up the side of the building, his prosthetics digging into the walls and sending him upwards. As soon as his hands caught the ledge of the flat roof, he propelled himself up and over, following the half dozen retreating Talon agents. The ambush had gone off without a hitch; the planted information and falsified reports of newly created catastrophic weapons had drawn the terrorist organization into a finely tuned trap sprung by the recalled Overwatch agents. Torbjorn’s turrets took down those that had rushed into the warehouse, Satya’s turrets closing off their retreat. The shipping yard that they were using did allow for the Talon agents to spread out but each of their exits were covered. D. Va and Lucio were blocking off the eastern area, Tracer picking up stragglers and those that separated while you and Hanzo chased those that had managed to slip past Satya’s turret trap. Hanzo took the high ground, as always, and you ran along the low ground disappearing down alleys and picking off the stragglers.

You were quick and moved agilely, the archer often losing sight of you but he had a resolute trust in your abilities. You were a close range fighter, your weapons a glaive with a blade of hard light and venom laced bo shuriken, able to poison them from several yards away before diving in for the kill. You moved silently, Hanzo often joking that you gave the training he and Genji received a run for their money although he teased that he was slightly better than you which often led to sparring sessions. Hanzo and you fought hand to hand several times a week, intense yet playful, full sexual competitive energy. You were impressive, skilled, beautiful, he was happy to call himself your partner and boyfriend.

“Shit!”

The curse lifted up from the alley and to Hanzo’s ear as the Talon grunts realized they had hit a dead end, the only way out back from where they came or a small warehouse that would only loop them back around to where D. Va and Lucio were waiting. Hanzo pulled his box from his back, quietly notching a scatter arrow and pulling the bowstring taut. He kept his eye on them as they dashed into the tiny warehouse trying to escape. They would not make it that far.

“Scatter”, Hanzo grunted as he released the bowstring, the arrow shot at the floor and fragmenting followed immediately by another scatter arrow.

He was nothing if thorough, knowing it better to incapacitate or eliminate as many enemies as possible as not to have them turn them turn their fire back on him or his allies. Hanzo waited several moments before shooting a sonic arrow to detect for movement, only catching the sluggish movements of those few left alive. With a quiet, satisfied grunt Hanzo, moved to a ledge that led to a narrow alley, jumping down between the walls until he touched the ground once more. His gait was confident and cautious, his bow raised once more as he began towards the doorway, releasing a soft breath before turning hard into the room bow raised. Hanzo’s brown eyes surveyed the room watchfully, carefully stepping over those felled before he glanced to the right and felt ice fill his veins.

Your glaive was laying on the dirty concrete floor, your body leaning heavily against one of the walls. One of his arrows was firmly stuck in the right side of your chest, your hand weakly pressing to your chest in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood. Your gaze was unfocused as you lifted your head to look at him, a weak smile crossing your lips as your knees finally gave out.

“Y/N!”

Stormbow clattered to the ground as Hanzo surged forward to catch you before you completely hit the ground, his arms wrapping tight around your weakened body. You gave a weak cry as he yanked the blue ribbon from around his waist, pressing the blue cloth hard against your wound to stem the flow of blood. Your breathing was wet, specks of crimson dotting your lips, a pained look crossing your face as you tried to draw in air. His composure was shaken, his eyes frantic as they danced over your face and chest and body before settling on the blood soaked silk around your chest.

Wrapped in anxiety, he fell back to his training, to years of grooming he had faced underneath the Shimada clan, forcing his emotions down. He gently took your hand and guided it to the temporary tourniquet, waiting until your hand pressed against the cloth before letting go. His blood soaked hand shakily lifted up to the comm in his ear, steadying his breath before pressing the button to turn the device on.

“Y/N is down! We require immediate medical attention!”

“Headed to your location!”

Hanzo’s hand dropped back to your wound, covering your hand with his and pressing again, gingerly pulling your body into his lap as he fell back on the floor with you. His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, his touches deliberate and apologetic. Guilt ate at him, it was obvious by his expressions.

‘You are a monster who only hurts those he loves. You do not deserve her. You had no right trying to taste hap–’

“Nice……shot….”

Hanzo’s gaze jumped to yours, incredulity obvious on his features as you smiled weakly up at him. You tried to laugh but the sound came out bubbled, pain blooming through your chest, one of Hanzo’s hands moving to cup your cheek. You turned into his touch, your eyes seeking his out and finally locking in on his. Unbidden forgiveness sat in your eyes, the concern in his own gaze rivalled only by your understanding. He squeezed you tight, head tilting down until his forehead touched yours, an intimate action he often did in private.

“I am so sorry beloved…”

“S’okay…just…hold me please…”

Can we please talk about Kiran/Summoner’s relationship between both Robins and Corrins? Like I mentioned before, I can imagine all four of them pretty much babying Kiran in some shape or form.

For example:

  • M!Robin - Acts like a mixture of Ryoma and Xander. Quite chill on the outside, but worries about Kiran most of the time. Can be quite scary if Kiran is harmed in any way. Easily pissed off when it comes to Niles interacting with Kiran.
  • F!Robin - Acts like the older sister/mom depending on the situation. Can tolerate Niles more easily than M!Robin. Has to constantly hold M!Robin and M!Corrin back to prevent them from rushing to Kiran’s side immediately whenever a plan goes awry or a tactic does not go as expected.
  • M!Corrin - Goofball Big Brother. Quite protective and has episodes of being a bit possessive of Kiran, but it is debated if it’s the nature of the summoning ritual, his dragon instincts, or repressed fears from his upbringing. Used to Niles’s antics, but knows that Kiran/other people can get uncomfortable with them so he asks him to tone it down a notch. Has had the back of his head hit more than once
  • F!Corrin - Quite literally the calmest out of all of them. The easiest person to talk to and is usually the one to tell the others when to give Kiran or any other person space. Usually the one who hits M!Corrin at the back of his head. Has episodes of possession, but it’s debated if it’s the same issues as M!Corrin’s.
Teacher’s Pet

Genre: Smut

Characters: Jooheon x Original Character [Miyeon]

Summary: Your boyfriend comes home early to see you still in your work clothes. Something about you in your work clothes makes him go crazy. So much so, that he wants you to take over for the night.

Word Count: 1686

Credit to gif owner

Keep reading

pretending to not know.

➵ characters: jonghyun x reader
➵ genre: smut
➵ wc: 3298
➵ summary: requested, with jonghyun teaches you a few tricks here and there, all whilst never neglecting your needs.
➵ author’s note: i got so descriptive with this i even surprised myself lol. and anon, i know you said shy, but it’s jonghyun. i had to have fun with it. enjoy.
➵ masterlist
➵ disclaimer

‘Jonghyun, baby…’ you purred crawling up the bed slowly on all fours as he laid upon it, one knee up and his hands behind his head, completely absorbed with the show he was watching on the television behind you.

Cocking an eyebrow at his lack of attention to you, the next thing you tried was kissing the bare skin of his legs that his shorts exposed, beginning at his knee and crept your way to his inner thigh. Finally he reacted by his leg flinching, but unfortunately in a dismissive way.

‘Jonghyun,’ you now said more sternly.

‘What, baby?’ he almost whined. ‘I’m trying to watch the show.’

‘And I’m trying to do something… else,’ you now moved up his body so you could straddle him. ‘Or do you want me stop?’

‘Well…’ he bit his lower lip with a smirk, ‘I was actually really looking forward to watching this new episode–’ You tutted frustratingly, withdrawing your body from him. ‘No, wait! I was kidding,’ he chuckled. ‘It was a joke, baby, come here.’

Jonghyun pulled your leg back in that was just hovering over your body, shifting you into your previous position, then placing a soft hand on the back of your neck to pull your face down to his.

‘Uh huh, it was hilarious,’ sarcasm prominent in your tone as your lips lowered onto his, at first only pecking them gently. Jonghyun decided to test your limits slightly, applying the least amount of pressure under his hand upon your neck trying to deepen the kiss. Much to his surprise, you reacted positively, placing your hands on his jaw and cheeks and tilting your head.

His other arm came around your waist to push your lower body into his, and the new contact of your crotches grinding lazily against each other caused him to part his lips to moan, and you took that as an invitation to gently dip your tongue to clash with his.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ he asked against your lips.

‘Hmm?’ your lips migrated to where your hands laid on his jaw, placing wet and harsh kisses upon it. When you reached the new found spot you had found recently that made Jonghyun shudder, his hips unconsciously bucked upwards harder onto you, exuding a harsh groan.

‘You’re more–fuck–more…’ he found it difficult to formulate his words.

‘Direct?’ you filled in the blank.

‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Jonghyun inhaled sharply at your now more persistent roll of your hips, enough friction being caused to commence the hardening of his cock beneath the material that separated you two.

You chuckled. ‘Again, I can stop.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ he started to pant. ‘You’re gonna finish what you started.’

‘Wait,’ you sat up still on top of him with your hands at his chest. ‘I know different people like different things.’

‘And?’ he asked impatiently.

‘And… how about you give me a few pointers?’

Jonghyun narrowed his eyes and also sat up. ‘On what exactly?’

‘What do you think?’ With your force, you pushed Jonghyun to lay flat on his back once again with an oomph, but instead of sitting up once more in protest, he instead bit his lower lip in pure anticipation.

You scooted down between his legs, giving Jonghyun the cue to somewhat part them so you could rest between them comfortably. Gazing at the visible tent that had formed on his shorts, you bit the inside of your cheek nervously, debating on what to do next.

The first move was cupping him his with a firm palm, but your hand descended on Jonghyun’s cock in such an abrupt manner that, his breath caught in his throat.

‘Baby…’ he looked up resting on his forearms, ‘gently. Look.’

Your hand was still on him and he held you by your wrist, smoothly having you rub him, letting your hand glide up and down his shaft. As Jonghyun was looking at your hand movements, you looked at him and saw that his chest was heaving, not in the desperate need for air but in the attempt to keep his body under his control as he tried his best to guide you.

‘That’s it,’ he exhaled, ‘now just tighten your grip. Just a bit.’

You followed his instructions, letting your fingers wrap around his growing bulge, still stroking it in the same slow pace. Low moans were now audible from Jonghyun, indicating that you were doing it just as he liked it.

‘Baby, I–fuck, I need you to touch me for real now,’ that composed demeanor he was trying to present was slowly disintegrating.

‘Then take these off,’ you stated. Jonghyun observed your face for a moment to depict whether or not you were being serious, and when he noted your intent, the material of his shorts and boxers were being slid down his legs.

As he was doing so, his semi-hard cock came into full view, making you swallow hard in thirst. Without being asked, your hand returned on Jonghyun, this time more delicately, and he felt much warmer and heavier than expected, with your fingers once again wrapping around him.

This time Jonghyun allowed you to move alone, trusting that you now understood what was required, allowing his head to fall back in pleasure. You liked the noises that he was making, the faces he was creating, simply because of the things you were doing to him, which to you seemed minimal. So what would it be like when you took it up a notch?

With his head back, Jonghyun didn’t see you shift on the bed, thinking nothing of the sudden dip in the mattress. His eyes opened alarmingly, his jaw dropping and his chest sputtering as his breath became choppy, and words were hard to find.

To his astonishment, your mouth had engulfed the head of his cock, with it being so warm and so wet, Jonghyun choked.

‘Holy shit,’ he inhaled deeply. ‘Baby, I–fuck!’

Your lips smirked around his shaft, elated by his reaction. You were in a position that allowed you to rest on your elbows and arms, cosily situated between Jonghyun’s legs. Your eyes peered up to him, who was now lying on his back, seeing his chest heave profoundly and his hands clawing at his hair and the sheets, exciting you even more.

To take it further, quite literally, your mouth lowered onto him even more, but as soon as the tip of his cock hit the end of the roof of your mouth, your throat instantly closed up, immobilising you.

Jonghyun too secretly wanted you to take more of him and felt your attempt to do so on him, and when you were forced to stop, he looked up again.

‘Relax your throat for me,’ he still breathed deeply. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

His words seemed sincere, and you trusted Jonghyun wholeheartedly, and so took his advice; you opened your mouth more, in the act also opening up your throat slightly, and Jonghyun took the opportunity to raise his hips up into your mouth, still delicately enough to just test your waters.

He hissed and exhaled with a groan as he felt his cock burying itself deeper into your mouth, so engrossed in the sensation that he also placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing you down onto him.

Intuitively, your throat became more relaxed to the point your lips were able to almost reach the base of his cock, but an inhibiting tingle on the back of your throat caused your breathing to halt, strands of saliva producing from your mouth and onto his cock and your reflexes argued for you to pull back. However, Jonghyun’s deep breathing, in the midst of deep moans, it set you alight and you only wanted to make him feel any better. So against your instincts, you kept your mouth on him for as long as you could.

You didn’t withdraw until his hand left your head, and you were free to pull your mouth back, fighting to catch your breath back. When doing so, your hand resumed its previous motions, now feeling much more slick due to your saliva acting as a lubricant.

‘You’re gonna fucking kill me,’ he chuckled.

‘Aw, but I’m just starting to have fun,’ you teased him, cocking your eyebrow.

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin that for you.’

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile, instead just rolling your eyes at him. And wanting you get back to that fun promptly, you restored your lips around the head of cock, allowing your tongue to lap at it longingly as your hand worked his entire shaft in the same pace.

Jonghyun continued to express the same solid and heavy moans in sync with your actions, increasing in frequency when your hand and mouth too moved on him faster as you gained momentum.

It came to a point where you would only suck on the head and your hand stroked him rapidly, making him hiss and his breathing more irregular.

‘Baby,’ he groaned. ‘Baby, I’m gonna cum.’

You raised your eyebrows, more motivated than ever to get him off now that you were so close to doing so. Your mouth dropped on him once more like before, making his hips buck, and ascended to descend on his cock once more. He now groaned at such a high pitch you knew that it would only take one or two more strokes to see him through.

So keeping your mouth enclosed around him, you continued to pump him and his body went stiff, his hips jittering eagerly, leaving his mouth gaping as his eyes were shut closed tightly.

The hot liquid that emitted from the slit landed on the length of your tongue, some immediately spurting down your throat, and you continuously stroked him and he was completely milked.

‘Fuck!’ he cursed animalistically, holding you by the back of your neck to keep you on him. It was not like you were gonna move any time soon as you wanted every last drop of him to be coaxed out, only feeling satisfied after cleaning any drop that may have escaped, letting it all coat your drying throat with one large gulp.

Pulling yourself up to your knees, you took your thumb and index finger to wipe at the corners of your mouth, looking at Jonghyun, who was still red and flustered, with large an innocent eyes.

‘Are you sure you haven’t done this a lot like you make it seem?’ he asked you between breaths, narrowing his eyes.

‘Am I that good?’ you laughed.

Taking your hands from your face, Jonghyun held them so he could pull you into him, making your flattened body lay over his.

‘I’m certainly not complaining,’ he said with a grin.

You brought your legs up so you could get upon your knees but still kept your torso bent over and on top of Jonghyun, and his hands grasped the hem of your oversized shirt, pulling the material over your head.

Holding you securely by your thighs, Jonghyun made so it was you now that was on your back as he sat up on his knees, removing his own shirt. He leaned to you once more, instantly aiming for your already hardened nipples which for him begged to be nipped and sucked on.

As soon as his mouth enveloped around your breast, your hips rolled upwards in the need for any form of friction upon your centre, your walls becoming wetter and wetter by the second.

Jonghyun took your nipple to his lips and tongues firmly, flicking a hard but wet tongue over it, making you moan lowly. When a free hand of his kept itself busy by having his fingers tweak at your other nipple, you began to moan more loudly and become somewhat impatient.

‘You’re just teasing now,’ you whined.

‘Because this is my type of fun,’ he replied. ‘But I intend on making you feel just as good as you just did to me.’

But you didn’t want to wait anymore; as Jonghyun continued tug at your nipple, now incorporating his teeth, you took it upon yourself to remove your shorts and panties but could only take them as far as the middle of your thighs, Jonghyun’s body impeding it from going any further.

He tutted. ‘Can’t wait any longer can you?’

You shook your head. ‘I’m so wet already.’

Your hands sneaked to cup your already drenched pussy, taking two fingers along the slit upwards and to your clit, relishing in the pleasure you were giving yourself with the slow circles upon it.

Jonghyun noted what you were doing and to get a better view, he pulled back his body, taking your shorts and panties with him, discarding them on the bedroom floor. This way you were able to widen your legs, giving Jonghyun a better view.

His eyes stayed planted on your lower body and the movements of your hand and fingers on your pussy, biting his lower lip and he moved further down the bed, placing himself nicely between your legs.

‘I could watch you do this all day,’ Jonghyun sighed.

You shifted your hips to become closer to his face. ‘I think it’d be better if you just put your mouth to work instead.’

‘Getting feisty, are we?’

‘Don’t try me. Not right now,’ you shot back.

‘I would never,’ he said sarcastically. Before you could reply, his hands were already wrapped around your thigh, essentially tugging you towards him even more, and didn’t waste any time in dipping his tongue on your dripping folds.

Immediately, your hands flew to his hair, gripping on it only enough for support, letting your fingers run through his scalp. Your lower lip trapped between your teeth muffled the moans that emitted from your mouth, keeping your head up to get a good look at Jonghyun’s mouth on you.

After running his tongue vertically along your pussy to collect all the juices that coated you, a flat tongue pressed up against your clit, moving it rigidly against it. To this you hissed sharply, gently motioning your hips in sync with mouth to increase the pressure.

‘Fuck, Jonghyun!’ you moaned. ‘Holy shit, you’re making me feel so good.’

‘You like my tongue on you, baby?’ he muzzled with his mouth still completely on your pussy.

‘Yes, oh god, yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop!’

To that, Jonghyun now sucked on your clit, using one of his hands to part your lips to allow him more access. Your head fell back onto the pillow, digging into it, as your mind and body became consumed on the concentrated pleasure Jonghyun administered with his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking onto it like his life depended on it.

It didn’t take long before that tingling sensation on your crotch began to build up, with your fingers gripping onto Jonghyun’s locks harder.

‘I’m gonna cum!’ you groaned through gritted teeth. ‘Holy shit, Jonghyun!’

Returning his hand to your thigh, he kept them open as they threatened to enclose on him, still firmly sucking on your clit. Your hips raised as your orgasm came closer and closer, letting it crash back down onto the bed when it finally hit you. Your stomach tensed as your pussy convulsed, all of your wetness dripping out of you.

‘Jonghyun!’ you yelped, and the way you called him name caused him to groan against you, sending a new wave of sensation through you. At this point, you were lost for words as your orgasm continued to travel through you, desperate to pump oxygen into your lungs, and he only let go of you when he was for sure you had reached your ultimatum.

Jonghyun pulled himself to his knees once more with lust and need clouding his vision, rushing for the condom inside the bedside table’s drawer. Beneath him, you were still a heap of mess, your breath still irregular and your limbs still shaking. Your head dazed from side to side, swallowing hard.

Your body feeling quite limp, Jonghyun took it upon himself to hoist one of your ankles onto his shoulder, pushing the other leg wide. He held onto his now latex protected rehardening cock to align himself with your entrance, with the wetness of your pussy allowing him to slip his head in relatively easily, but he already felt your tightness clasp onto him, causing him to scrunch his eyebrows in pleasure.

Eventually, you came to your senses again as soon as you felt Jonghyun enter you slowly, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

‘Jonghyun,’ you mumbled. ‘Fuck me. Baby, fill me up.’

‘Do you need me inside you, sweetheart?’

‘Just as much as you wanna stretch me.’

Your dirty talk was driving Jonghyun completely insane this whole night, groaning every time you tempted him. And you were spilling truths; he wanted nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress, and have you plead him for more.

So all the formalities were discarded and forgotten about, and Jonghyun slammed into your mercilessly. You inhaled a gasp, by the time you were exhaling, Jonghyun had already slammed into your warm pussy once more.

The arm that he had beside you was used as support as your left hand’s fingers clawed into it in the attempt to keep your body still as Jonghyun’s thrusts rattled your body and the bed.

The angle that Jonghyun positioned you in meant that he was able to penetrate you deeper than usually, already pressing and probing against your g-spot with ease.

‘F-fuck, Jonghyun!’ you huffed. ‘Oh god!’

‘Do you like this cock inside of you, baby?’ he half groaned, half moaned. ‘You like it when I fuck you like this?’

You nodded with your eyes shut, concentrating on your g-spot becoming more and more stimulated. You could already feel your walls contracting and releasing slightly, innately chasing your orgasm.

‘Shit, do that again,’ he stated. You knew already what he was referring to, and so clamped down on his cock even more and he continued to fuck you at a ruthless pace. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

‘Jonghyun, I’m gonna cum!’ you exclaimed. ‘Shit, I’m cumming!’

‘Cum on my cock, sweetheart. Fucking cum on my cock!’ Jonghyun’s own head fell back and he held onto your leg for his dear life, with your pussy stroking him so deliciously.

With one last groan and thrust, your orgasm caused your back to arch off the bed entirely, your limbs once again shaking violently as your second peak rippled through your body with such intensity your toes and fingers curled into the sheets beneath you, whimpering and whining animalistically.

The new gush of wetness that coated Jonghyun was enough for his own orgasm to come to him, opting to continue to fuck you through it, cursing and groaning as he felt your walks draining his seed into the condom.

‘[Y/N]!’ he cried out with the last of his deep thrusts as they became more shallow, before sinking down into you fully.

Jonghyun let his body slump over your body, your sheets of sweat that covered your bodies making your torsos stick together. Your eyes remained closed as you took deep breaths in and out, with your legs still jittering on their own. Your chests heaved against each other as Jonghyun rested his head beside yours and his hands flattened beside your body.

Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling Jonghyun’s weight on you as a comfortable one, eventually wrapping your hands around his neck. In doing so, Jonghyun slowly but surely pulled himself back up to face you by resting his forehead on yours.

‘You missed your show,’ you said with a slight giggled.

Jonghyun laughed too. ‘Like I said, I’m not complaining.’

Bedtime Stories

Prompt: Reader can’t sleep and wants Sam to read her a bedtime story, finding he has quite a “hands-on” approach.

Character: Sam x Reader
Reader Gender: female
Word Count: 2472
Warnings: Language, smut (unprotected), oral sex, slightly rough!Sam, a little dirty talk.

A/N: I thought Sammy deserved a little love and I hope you guys will like it :) feedback is very much appreciated! x

(gif credit goes to the owner!)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you do collar/collaring with jughead Jones?

“You came,” Jughead said with a smirk, knowing you were going to listen.

You nodded, knowing not to speak unless spoken to. Jughead’s hands immediately began searching your body, feeling every inch of you inside the bathroom at Pop’s.

You panted heavily as his rough hands felt the sensitive skin of your thighs, then his hands found themselves feeling the material of your cashmere turtleneck sweater and his smirk grew wicked.

“And you wore the turtleneck I asked you to,” He continued, his large hands brushing over the sensitive buds on your breasts.

You huffed a small breath, ready for his hands to ravage you, but you knew that he had something different planned tonight. Something that you had to wait for. This was only to tease you, and tease you he would.

He grabbed your hips and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist to help him support your weight. Under your skirt, you were bare, no underwear to protect you from the rough material of his jeans.

He pressed into you lightly, the small tent in his pants providing delightful relief. You pressed your groin into him, but he pulled away when you tried. He would then settle himself back against you, waiting for you to press against him before he would pull away.

This horrible trap continued three more times before giving you a cheeky kiss on your nose and placing you back onto the floor, pushing you against the wall.

“You can respond now, baby,” He growled, his face so close to your neck that you closed your eyes praying to feel his nipping teeth on it.

“Yes I did, Sir,” You muttered quietly, lifting your chin to expose your neck.

You wanted him to know that anything he wanted was his for the taking. He chuckled at you, taking your head between his hands. He ordered you to open your eyes and look at him.

There was a proudness in his eyes when he peered down at you, staring into you.

“You’re such a good girl, you always listen to me. I have a gift for you,” He told you. “Take your top off.”

Without hesitation, you pulled your sweater over your head and let it fall to the ground, your perky nipples exposed and desperate for attention.

Jughead’s eyes fell upon them and there was a soft growl you heard him suppress. You had worn the nipple piercings with kittens on them that he loved so much. You beamed proudly at his affection for you, but remained silent.

“Oh my goodness, you are the best little kitten Daddy has ever had,” Jughead said as he reached into his jean pocket to pull something out.

It was a black leather strap with one kitten jewel on it. Kittens were the symbol you two bonded over, so you knew this was the present he had for you.

He wrapped it around your neck, pulling it tight enough for you to lose your breath for a moment before he loosened it and tied it on the correct notch. He pulled back, taking in the sight of you shirtless and marked as his.

You watched his pants tighten as he became more and more excited.

“Go to your house right now, and wait for me,” Jughead said as he pulled away from you, grabbing your jacket to hand it to you. “My friends need me for a little longer, then I’m all yours kitten.”

You frowned but didn’t say anything, knowing that Jughead had things to tend to. You tugged your sweater back on and exited the stall, your hand on the handle of the door when he called out your name.

You looked back, loving the view of the lust in his eyes as you walked away. He loved the secret of having that collar on you when no one else could see it.

“Be naked when I get there.” He said with a smirk, licking his delicious lips in anticipation.

At lunch, I think about your hands, and that’s it. That’s my spine unloosening for the day. That’s all the ocean in my belly heading straight to the shore of my throat. I think about your hands and suddenly, I don’t know what to do with mine. Suddenly my fingers are not my fingers but the empty space between them where yours should be. I am all missing, I lose myself for the day and leave to find you. I misplace my throat because it is clasped in the cup of your hand. I leave my bitten lips on your bedside table. My thighs have the ghosts of bruises unfurling into poppies, like bloodstains on snow. I break things because I am shaking and I am shaking because you are not with me and you are not with me because we are just learning to touch each other through the spaces between us. It is violent that we cannot touch each other, yet. It’s a war crime. It should be illegal that my fingers still haven’t learned the notches of your back. I think about holding your wrist in the O of my thumb and my index finger. I think about kissing the blue veins there. I think about careful mouth touches, and the tender of you. The warm, soft hollow of you, and how I lose my bottom lip wondering about yours. I’ll kiss you there, I promise. I promise.
—  Azra.T., “These wrists, these eyes, these praying hands.”
Blue Song

Request: Could you please write a Clint Barton x reader where the reader is a badass archer and listens to mint royale - blue song when fighting xx

Pairings: Clint x fem!Reader

Word Count: 857

Warnings: Minor violence, some fluff

A/N: I would definitely recommend you guys actually listen to Blue Song by Mint Royale when you read this. I feel like it really conveys the reader’s mind-set when she fights, like kinda chill and generally badass.

 

“Everyone in position?” Cap asked through the coms.

“Ready.”

“I’m here.”

“Good to go.”

Echoes of confirmation sounded in your ears as you fiddled with your phone screen.

“Y/N?”

You grinned to yourself as you tapped the familiar icon and placed a bud in your ear, “Ready and waiting, Cap.” The beat had already begun, a faint thrumming in your ear, and you began tapping your foot. You glanced to the side to find Clint looking at you in a semi fond-semi exasperated fashion but you only wiggled your eyebrows at him and grinned, pulling an arrow from your sheath and notching it.

“Ok, team. In three-”you closed your eyes breathing in, “two-” you let out a breath, tuning out Steve’s voice and concentrating on the beat, “one, go!”

Ooh, you released an arrow, right through my head. You smirked to yourself at the irony, reaching for another arrow. In the periphery of your vision, you could see Clint firing off arrows in quick succession, sometimes shooting two or three at a time.

“Show off,” you muttered with a raised eyebrow. You took four arrows from your sheath and notched them at once. He caught onto the challenge at once and smirked.

Your movements were almost lazy as you fired shot after shot.

I ain’t got the blues no more I said.

You swayed slightly, enjoying the beat, everything except the music and your targets having faded away. You made sure to keep your muscles relaxed, breathing in and out slowly on every shot.

Whilst Clint’s style was fast, powerful and flashy, you favoured a more measured and therefore infinitely more accurate approach. Hey, you were old-fashioned. It was an argument the two of you had revisited many times and so every time you were on the field together, it became a competition to prove who was better; usually it ended in a draw.

“You’re losing, birdbrain,” you sung, watching an arrow make its home in a man’s heart whilst you bobbed your head to the music.

Step some more I said, pick me up.

He loosed another arrow that flew through the air towards one of Natasha’s assailants. It landed in his arm and promptly exploded and you rolled your eyes as he flashed you a cheeky grin.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“And you love me anyway.”

“Hmm.”

You knew Clint was perfectly capable of being accurate when he wanted rather than using showy tech, but well, the saying ‘boys and their toys’ came to mind.

Your movements were fluid as you danced around the rooftop, finding each and every angle to shoot from. You and Clint moved as one, never aiming for the same person, never pausing to think, just moving, just dancing. Movement caught your eye and you released an arrow at the target you had previously sighted, not watching for it to land. Instead you pulled an arrow from your back, notching it as you ran at Clint.

“Duck!”

He listened without questioning, ducking into position as you rolled over his back, the movement familiar and well-practised. You loosed an arrow and the woman fell back over the edge of the building. You sprinted to her previous position and yanked up the grappling hook she had used, so no one else could use it.

Thinkin’ I got a lot, groovy I am.

The fight ended almost as quickly as it had begun; it was a simple clear out mission of an old hydra safehouse. You pulled the bud from your ear, the music fading away and looked around, checking off each of the team members to make sure they were ok.

“Everyone good?” Cap asked through the coms. The team confirmed it through the coms and there was a shared sigh of relief.

“There’s a really good shawarma joint nearby, anyone fancy a post-mission bite to eat?” Tony suggested cheerfully.

“Really Tony? Again with the shawarma?”Nat asked, rolling her neck.

You rolled your eyes at their bickering and switched off your coms. You turned to Clint with a smile and wandered over to him, eyes mischievous.

You were barely a foot away from him when something caught your eye. You cocked your head to the left, curious. Your eyes widened and you shoved him away from you, ignoring his noises of surprise and protest.

The man fell to the floor, dead, and you let out a small sigh of relief.

Then you twirled back to Clint, laughing as he got up, looking a tad put out, “Sorry, babe. Had to take care of some guy who just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Also,” you sauntered forwards, reaching out and pulling him towards you by his suit, “I win.” You whispered the words in his ear, a lopsided grin on your face. He shoved you away playfully but soon brought you back into his arms with a smile.

You curled your arms around his neck as he held your waist, looking down at you fondly, “You might win a battle, but the war is far from done, honey,” he replied, leaning into you.

You smiled into the sweet kiss, “I’ll win that too, honey.”


Permanent Tags: @sgtjamesbuchananbarnes107th @psychicwitchphilosopher

2

nakashima jin
jin is the only person on the team whom the Troublesome Trio doesn’t fuck with, out of pure respect. he’s forceful, unsociable, and taciturn (but that doesn’t mean he’s cold.) he has very powerful serves and spikes. he likes to keep himself updated on current events. like aoki, he is semi-fluent in english (they can be seen conversing sometimes; or rather, aoki talks and jin nods and listens) and he has plans to study in america for college (hence his concern)

regarding kojima: jin is usually ambivalent towards the antics of the team; instead he puts effort into keeping an eye out for kojima. as an ace himself, he can tell that kojima is ace material, and he understands the source of kojima’s frustration and anger (sakurai doesn’t understand where kojima’s attitude comes from and therefore thinks kojima is being difficult on purpose. jin understands that kojima’s ability comes from his own hard work instead of innate talent and that’s why he’s jealous/angry that inoue’s a regular player and he’s not.) jin doesn’t reach out very often, but he does know how to interact with kojima and is actively there for him when kojima needs it most. JIN IS A DISTANT, BUT GOOD SENPAI. (it probably helps that he’s the oldest of three siblings.)

regarding the other 3rd years: theyre close friends! sakurai and jin like being around heiji because he has a way of lightening their stress and is a good conversationalist, and heiji and jin are good listeners for when sakurai has opinions complaints about their underclassmen.
sakurai and jin are especially close; sakurai is the only person who does not hesitate to drop off against jin’s shoulder during bus rides and jin is the only person who calls sakurai by his given name. they have a deep mutual understanding of one another and actually they’d probably be very good together lol

yamasaki heiji: his physical prowess is extremely average but his game sense is top-notch. he’s a laid-back captain who doesn’t appear to take his role seriously; in actuality, he knows precisely how to handle his team. kura minami is composed of players who generally dislike being told what to do; the way heiji manages them is therefore rather roundabout but he makes it work bc he is a master manipulator. he knows exactly what to say to pick up his team when their spirits are low, and he’s generally the mastermind who orchestrates their team tactics. he laughs a lot. he REALLY enjoys unhealthy food (the instant kind.)