#bp fic

[youcantkillamutant]

I’m in NOLA and you know what that means...

I’m plotting another fucking BP fic. 

[hai-nae]

meant to post these sketches a few days ago? a week? but, well, life.

[theangrypomeranian]

why do i want to write a multi chapter basketball star Will/dancer Jimmy Jr. AU

[bluemantics]

If Keith and Lance were going to fall together at any moment, it would’ve been when Keith was the black paladin.

Keith had successfully kept his walls up until then; battles left him mostly unfazed, team bonding barely nicked his armor, and even Hunk’s cooking wasn’t able to pry him open. 

Then, Shiro vanished, and everything changed. Keith suddenly was tasked with leading the team intended to save the universe. 

All his previous failings and outbursts piled up in his mind at once, nausea rolling through his body constantly. How was he supposed to do this? He was a dropout with anger and authority issues, a wild warrior without aim. Keith wasn’t meant to be anything more than a tamed beast. Even worse, if he wasgoing to step up eventually, to become something greater, he was supposed to do it with Shiro. Instead, a gaping hole had been left behind at the helm. Keith was too young. Too inexperienced. And worst of all, he was entirely alone. 

For the first time in a long time, he was vulnerable, and his aching edges were exposed to anyone brave enough to look. 

The team noticed when he started to crack, exposing his pain and his fear. 

Hunk tried to help, in his own unique way. He noticed the pale hue of the black paladin’s skin and resolved to feed him, maybe help him talk over food. However, that hardly worked, since Keith stopped eating regularly with the team. 

Even Pidge tried to relate through their unique bond. She teased him about the old stories they used to muse over together, but anecdotes about their brothers were still raw for Keith, and he lashed out. That caused Pidge to retreat quickly, her concealed hurt only worsening Keith’s guilt.  

Allura spoke to him in soothing tones that only riled him up more. It was the worst with her, even though she tried her best. Somehow, her gentle tone only reminded him of the wild thing he was. When he would respond in anger, she wasn’t afraid to rise to meet him, and instances where the whole team witnessed them clash only embarrassed him. 

But then there was Lance. That was always how it had gone since their journey started. Lance, appearing to help carry Keith’s brother. Lance, badgering him into a fight. Lance, constantly standing just to his right, prepared to offer unwanted commentary. And now he was the red paladin. 

For the first few days after the lion switch, Lance merely observed how Keith interacted with everyone silently. It made him uncomfortable. He was restless under Lance’s piercing gaze, his eyes that tracked his every choice, his normally discerning tongue that for once chose to still. 

The moment that caused Keith to snap occurred during training. He’d been staying up late every night, working extra with the bots to get better with the new black bayard. Logically, it was just as perfectly balanced as his old sword. Keith just wasn’t able to shake the feeling that the weight of it wasn’t suited to his hand.

So, he trained with it. Again and again. 

Which meant that team training during the daytime… well, it suffered. He was exhausted. Coran, watching over them, admonished Keith for it, but he could barely hear the royal advisor over the sound of his blood rushing past his ears and the clanging of his teammates moving their bayards and the bright lights shining into his pupils and the bruises settling painfully under his ribs and the pressure of his new black armor against his sternum and, worst of all, Lance’s unrelenting stare. 

He snapped back into himself, realizing the team was awaiting his reaction. Their eyes looked round and worried. Keith narrowed in on one person who was standing just at his elbow. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he hissed.

There was a pause after his words. Lance’s expression remained careful, his hand coming up to rest on Keith’s shoulder, forcing a breath out of his lungs. The lights seemed to dim. 

“Let’s take a break,” Lance suggested to everyone. Marvelously, they nodded, Hunk exchanging murmurs with Allura as they both put down their weapons and began to walk toward the door. Pidge scampered up the stairs to Coran. Keith looked at Lance in bewilderment after noticing they were alone.

Lance just grinned, and it released something in Keith that had been knotted up.

“So, Samurai, I think we need to talk.” 

Lance quietly spoke to him about the team’s unease. That they all wanted to help him, but he’d regressed back to a place that was painful to see. Lance spoke of a small desert shack, a place that could be a shelter, but could also be confining in its limitations. A place to hide from the watchful stars. A place of anger, regret, and desperation.

Grief. 

Lance’s words carved out an image of a loner fulfilling his own self-destructive prophecy. It made Keith bristle. Then, however, he reminded him of other images, scenes from the recent past he’d rejected in his mourning. 

Helping Hunk perfect a recipe late at night, even if he didn’t know much about cooking besides canned beans and rice. 

Sorting Pidge’s small pieces of machinery as she ranted about a planet they’d visited. 

Allura laughing when he made a dry comment about a foreign diplomat, and then immediately failing to cover it up when said official turned around, making Keith smile as well. 

Lifting Lance off a bloody battlefield, the harsh sounds raging in the background as he carried him into Red and saved his life.

“You’re not alone.” Lance’s hands stretched out, beseeching. 

“Why did you wait so long to talk to me?” Keith breathed, as if he knew, deep down, that this talk was going to come the entire time. “Why were you so quiet?”

And Lance’s face fell. Keith regretted asking near instantly. 

“Well, you’re not the only one trying to fill in for a strong presence. I had to get used to some things, too, y’know? Convince myself that I can be right for this job.” He points between himself and the black paladin. 

It’s ridiculous. Keith wants to open his mouth, to assure Lance that he’s not just excelling, that he’s perf—

“You need to start showing up to team dinners. Stop working yourself to death at night— that was fine when you were number two, but now you gotta lead us in training,” Lance started to list off as he put a finger up for each point. “Talk to Pidge about Shiro, since she misses him too, not just you. Reassure Allura that you’re happy to lead alongside her. Just… chill the F out, dude.” Keith blinks, owlish in the face of a literal itemized list of things to fix. 

So, he tries to chill the F out. 

It isn’t easy. He still feels inadequate, out of place in every room he steps into, especially when his friends all look to him for answers. Keith often trembles with the weight of the universe. Thank god for Lance, always standing just to his right. Slowly, they open the door of that desert shack together, and he learns how to share his burden. He learns a lot of things. 

Like how Lance is deceptively smart when it comes to strategizing. Or that Lance’s empathy is a weapon, able to prevent a battle with a few well-placed words. He especially enjoys learning that Lance has curly hair, he thinks Keith is funny when no one else does, and he has a fondness for young kids due to his family. 

Lance is his right-hand man and co-leader in every sense of both terms. Their call-and-response has never been better. Oftentimes, before thinking about what Shiro might do, Keith begins to consider what Lance might do. 

And isn’t that frightening? 

They fell together after the lion switch in ways no one could have predicted. Keith feels a wild thing settle in his chest at the thought, his eyes turned toward the stars that watch him in return. 

He stays standing among the sand. He ignores the urge to retreat to shelter. Keith embraces the sky and its promise of warm, fresh rainfall. 

[torveiglyart]

He has arrived. Like the prophecy foretold~

aka me living up to my last post.

As much as I love Black Paladin Lance, I think it only would have worked after the whole Lotor thing. Back in season 3, Lance respected Keith as their leader and vice versa, but, had the roles been reversed, I think there would have been a struggle on both sides. Keith would have a hard time respecting Lance as an authoritative figure, and Lance would struggle listening to Keith and not always lead with the team's needs in mind. Lance was kind of Keith's impulse control in the new set up, whereas a RP Keith and BP Lance would create a power imbalance. Keith respects Lance as an equal, and Lance respects Keith as authority. When Keith leaves, however, the dynamic shifts.

Lance respects Shiro as his hero and leader, but Shiro consistently does not acknowledge Lance as his right hand, and by extension, his equal. Lance is pushed aside again and again, but everyone else listens to Shiro so there's not much he can do. When Keith comes back, there's a new relationship between the two.

Lance appreciates Keith's insight and decisions more after the lack of acknowledgment from Shiro, and Keith is more accepting of authoritative figures telling him what to do thanks to the BoM. It's at this point where a BP Lance would work out. How it would get to a lion switch again, I have no clue, but I do think a changing of the guards part 2 would be a good way to show Lance's character development instead of *sighs* garfle warfle snik and allurance.

Honestly I think allurance should have happened sooner and then like a whole 'soul searching filler' episode where they break up on good terms. It's too often we find permanent or sad endings with media relationships. It would have been nice to see a "hey maybe this doesn't work. Friends?" from Lance and Allura.

Okay, another unrelated thing (sorry). Can someone please tell me the real reason Keith voted Lance in GWSnik? 'Cause "I don't want to spend an eternity with you" is sooooo not a legit answer. He should have voted himself if that were the reason. Is it because he felt bad for Lance? He didn't want him getting called dumb for an eternity? He didn't think anyone else would vote him? Does he actually think Lance was the best person to carry Voltron? Or is he just a sad gay in space?

I guess you can answer in the comments or a reblog but, yeah! Those are my thoughts on Black Paladin Lance! Thanks!

[johnslittlespoon]

tough and sweet boys are cuddling btw. at this very moment. kiss is mere hundreds of words away. sweating profusely.

[jebewonmorelike]

I Didn't Think You Had It In You

(part one - "devil by the whiteboard") wc: 5k (i'm so sorry, longest one yet i've gotta chill but it's WORTH IT I PROMISE) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, some mean!hanbin and some infatuated!hanbin :) also this one's funnier than the last one warnings for alternate ending: suggestive/mature content - minors dni!! (link to it is *in* the fic for proprer conext/placement) summary: studentbodypresident!hanbin is majorly regretting the grief he's put introvertedrival!reader through for their entire academic career. i wonder how he'll try to make it up them... ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ *edited to say that... i edited this haha and it should be free of errors now* FINALLY DONE. PART TWO OF MY MASTERPIECE. lmaoooo. omg super secret surprise ending; my first attempt at such. hope you read both endings tho bc i really like them both :) love y'alllllll gonna go to bed now that i've marathon wrote this for 5 hours!

“WHAT!?” You shout, the shock of the words that just echoed through the hallway nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as you whip around to face the boy who uttered them.

You expect to see him smirking back at you, eyes taunting and mean. But what you find instead appears to be a look of surprise somewhat mirroring your own.

"You heard me that time, too," Hanbin responds quietly, averting your gaze.

You stare at the boy in front of you for a while, desperately trying to fill your lungs back up with the air you had lost. But the more oxygen you take in, the more anger you feel brewing in your blood. Abruptly, you start to walk back to where Hanbin stands in the middle of the hallway and the closer you get, the wider his eyes grow.

Only a few inches away from him now, Hanbin is staring back at you unblinkingly and you swear his cheeks are redder than they normally are. Without thinking, your hands reach up and connect with his chest--

Hanbin stumbles back as you push him, lips parting in surprise despite the lack of force behind your shove. Your hands remain on his chest as shock at your own actions suddenly renders you immobile.

Your face is mere centimeters from his for the second time tonight, both of you staring at each other; unsure what to do next. Hanbin coughs first, the tips of his ears now matching the scarlet of his cheeks. He places his hands on top of yours and removes them from his chest wordlessly.

You're positive that your cheeks are heating up now, too. You take a shaky breath before managing to clumsily demand, “What’s... What's wrong with you!? Why would I ever go out with you!?”

You watch as Hanbin's expression suddenly shifts, the condescending look returning to his eyes. “Maybe so you’d finally have someone to eat lunch with other than the collector’s edition of Jane Eyre.”

You frown, suddenly uneasy that Hanbin must have seen you alone in the library during lunch before. You wondered what other observations he was sitting on until it was the right time to shame you with them. Quietly, you lie, "I have people to eat lunch with."

"The Bronte Sisters don't count," he says with a smirk.

You swallow the lump in your throat that's starting to build. "I don't need anyone to eat lunch with."

"Hey, it's okay," he coos mockingly. "No need to cry. You cry enough during lunch as it is."

"You are such a bastard," you spit, watching as Hanbin's eyes seem to light up at the fire igniting in you once more. "Even if I wanted someone to eat lunch with, what gives you the audacity to suggest that that someone should be you!?"

He's just staring at you again, but his expression now seems to be one of awe rather than blank shock— though it's unrecognizable to you with white hot rage clouding your vision.

"You are a despicable human being, Hanbin. You're a liar; you're a phony. And now you've even become a cheat! You have never caused me to feel anything other than annoyance, anger and, tonight, disdain. But now..."

Hanbin's eyebrows raise slightly as he waits for you to continue.

"Now I can't help but pity you, too. Would it really have been so bad if my team won the Decathlon? Is your ego that fragile that you'd rather sabotage all of your integrity than to fail publicly? I feel so bad for you that you'd risk ruining your entire reputation in some misguided attempt to save it."

"I wasn't--," he says quietly, but you cut him off and he doesn't protest.

"I let you push me around, because I thought it was in everybody's best interest. But now that I've watched you stoop so low, I'm not making excuses anymore," you say, determinedly. "So, after I've said all this, I'll ask again: why would I ever want to go out with you, Sung Hanbin?"

It takes awhile for a response to appear on Hanbin's face and, once it does, you're a bit shaken at how unrecognizable it is. He seems to notice how you're looking at him and clears his throat before forcing himself to laugh in offense.

“I was just joking! No need to be so—… Why would I ever want to go out with you? Like I'm not way out of your league," he rambles haughtily, shaking his head in disbelief. "I just thought it might make joining my team seem like a better idea by comparison.”

"Well, it didn't," you declare, knowing there had to have been a motive behind Hanbin's words but still feeling a bit foolish for having almost considered believing them. "I'm not joining Blue Team next year. And now I don't think I'll be joining any team next year."

"What!?" Hanbin exclaims, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean you're not joining a team next year? You love Decathlon!"

You smile sadly. "I do. It's too bad you had to go and ruin it."

"I didn't know that you wouldn't--," he starts, fumbling his sentence and starting again as if he's panicking. "I didn't want you to quit! (Y/N), that's not--."

"I really hope you're happy now that you got what you wanted, Hanbin," you cut him off, making your way back to the exit doors and throwing them open. Over your shoulder, you call:

"You win!"

~

“If I had a penny for every time I caught you reading this book…” 

The sudden voice startles you, your collector’s edition of Jane Eyre falling from your hands and onto the table. The book shuts closed before you have a chance to mark the page you’re on.

“Oh,” Hanbin mumbles awkwardly. “Sorry.”

You open the book back up, quickly flipping to the page and placing your bookmark in it before setting it back down.

“I guess you would have every page memorized by now,” Hanbin says with a laugh. 

You frown at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything except to have lunch with you,” he says smiling ear-to-ear, before glancing at your book. “And Miss Bronte, of course.”

You roll your eyes, picking up your sandwich for the first time since you sat down. “Well we both would rather gauge our eyes out than make small talk with you.”

“Oh, ouch,” Hanbin says as he bites his lip in a smirk. “Should I call your bluff?”

You pick up the spoon for your yogurt, immediately raising it to your eye before Hanbin reaches out in a panic and wraps his hand around yours. He lowers your hand that’s holding the spoon back down to the table with a nervous laugh.

“You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” Hanbin asks rhetorically, nodding as he pops off the lid to his soup and spoons it into his mouth. “This is nice! Why haven’t we done this before?”

Your face scrunches up in confusion. “Because I hate you.”

“No, we hate each other,” he corrects, eating another spoonful of soup. “Friendship is a two-way street.”

You choke a bit on your sandwich, coughing to clear your throat before exclaiming, “We are NOT friends!”

“But we could be,” Hanbin muses far-too happily. “Wouldn’t that be great?”

“No,” you answer plainly.

“It would be better than what we are now, right? Think about it: we would be a pretty unstoppable duo!”

“I wouldn't be your friend even if you paid me,” you spit. “And I know you’re really into paying people to get what you want lately.”

“Oh please, that was so three days ago,” Hanbin sighs exasperatedly. “Things were so much easier when you didn’t have a backbone. I pay to win one competition and you’re suddenly acting like you didn’t used to do everything I told you to?”

“I told you I’m not letting you push me around anymore,” you say definitively.

He smirks. “I just don’t really believe you…”

Your hand wraps around your spoon again, hurtling toward your right eyeball as Hanbin’s eyes widen in sudden fear. His hand reaches out to grab yours again, bringing it back down to the table in awkward silence.

“Please stop trying to impale yourself at the lunch table,” Hanbin requests quietly, attempting to steady his breathing. "I'll do anything you want, just do not make me have to carry your eyeball in my soup cup to the nurse's office."

You blink back at him. "Anything?"

"Oh, uh..." Hanbin says, clearly surprised that you clung onto his plea. "Did you want something... from me?"

You sigh, eating another spoonful of yogurt. "I have a proposal for Student Government."

"Oh sure, if you send it to me I can put my name on it and sign it," he says with a nod.

"No," you respond quickly.

"No? What do you--?"

"It's mine," you announce, placing your spoon down. "It's my proposal and it really means a lot to me and... I want everyone to know it's mine."

Hanbin looks at you curiously for a moment before a small smile graces his lips. He blinks at you as he whispers, "Cute."

"What?" You ask, one eyebrow raising in confused shock.

The boy in front of you's eyes widen for a moment before he shakes his head nonchalantly and looks down into his soup. "I meant, it's cute you think you'll be able to pitch it without puking..."

"I want you to pitch it," you respond, glaring back at him. "I know I can't make a speech to save my life. But people always like my words best when they come out of your mouth anyway."

Hanbin's eyes are doe-like as his lips form into a little surprised pout.

"So, could you pitch my proposal to the Student Council for me?" You ask, chewing your cheek. "All I want this time is the credit. It's really important to me so... I just..."

"Okay," he agrees, nodding gently. "I can do that."

You blink back at him. "Really?"

"Sure, I can help you," Hanbin says, before adding with a smirk:

"We're friends now, after all."

~

You take your seat at the far right of the Officers’ Table, adjusting your name plaque after neatly tucking your bag under your chair. It’s been two weeks since the last Student Government meeting and you are incredibly excited about the new proposal you’ve drawn up in support of increased mental health services on campus. You have to admit you’re glad that Hanbin had agreed to make the pitch speech for you.

“I’m excited to hear your proposal!” Stephanie, the Student Council Treasurer, says as she sits down next to you. “Are you nervous to pitch it? I know that public speaking is not your strong suit.”

Your eyebrows furrow confusedly at her question. “What do you mean? I’m not pitching it. Hanbin is.”

“Oh, um…” She smiles at you awkwardly. “Proposals can only be pitched by the member that created them! Those are the rules. I thought you knew that.”

“But I write Hanbin’s—…” You cut yourself off before you expose the Student Body President to the Treasurer. Your proposal is something you are terribly proud of and you want everyone to know it’s yours! But to find out now, only minutes away from the beginning of the meeting, that you’d have to be the one to present it to the entirety of the Student Government… Your vision is already burring with anxiety. All you can muster in response to Stephanie is, “Oh, okay.”

Completely frozen in fear, you’re only pulled out of your dissociative state when Stephanie taps you on the shoulder. She nods at you, gesturing with her hands for you to stand up. You scan the room, surprised when you realize it’s filled with the members of Student Government and that you must’ve zoned out for the entire first half of the meeting.

“Wait—,” Hanbin interjects from where he sits on the other side of Stephanie. He frowns at you confusedly, continuing, “I thought I was reading (Y/N)’s proposal…”

Hyungjun, the Vice President, laughs on Hanbin’s left. “Pretending he doesn’t know the rules. This guy!”

Hanbin’s eyes widen as he glances at the other Officers, unsure of how to react.

“It’s (Y/N)’s proposal,” Stephanie thankfully elaborates. “So, obviously, (Y/N) has to pitch it. And breaking that rule is immediate grounds for a dismissal vote.”

“Oh,” Hanbin mumbles, slowly nodding as he must be considering— just as you had— how many times he should’ve had a dismissal vote called on him by now. “Obviously.”

“So, (Y/N), if you’ll please,” Hyungjun prompts, nodding his head for you to stand up and recite your proposal. You're positive that all the oxygen has left the classroom as you shakily rise to your feet.

Gathering your proposal paper in your hand, you stare at the words on the page-- suddenly rendered illiterate by the amount of fear coursing through your body. Your breathing is shallow and thin and you wonder how long it will take before you've fainted from the anxiety.

"Um, the--... the, um, proposal I am sharing today," you begin; the nervous stammering you always developed when forced to address a crowd rearing it's ugly and reliable head. "Is about--... Or, well, it's to address... It's to help fix the campus's lack of rental mealth hesources."

"Oh god," you hear Hanbin whisper under his breath as you completely flub your words. All of the Student Council members are now chuckling at your mistake as you shake your head quickly, trying to refocus yourself so you can continue.

"There's--... Um, there's plenty of evidence that," you say, eyes locked on your paper as you attempt to make sense of the proposal you'd written which now appears as nothing more to you than a page full of gibberish. "That... That this school... That it's--..."

"Is this a joke?" A Student Council member shouts from the back of the classroom, as you resign yourself to a mere dear in headlights. "Aren't you embarrassed? You're the Student Government Secretary and you can't even form a coherent sentence?"

"HEY!" An angry voice booms to your left as you try to force down the bile that's currently stinging your esophagus. The sudden shout jolts you back to awareness as you look to see who it came from.

"Do you want to leave?" Hanbin threatens, jaw set in an uncharacteristic public display of fury. "Would you care to explain how bullying a Student Government Officer is at all in line with your duty as a Council Member?"

The student's eyes widen as he stares back at the Student Body President in shock. "I--... I--..."

"Look who can't form a coherent sentence now," Hanbin says with a smirk. A few moments pass before Hyungjun clears his throat, causing Hanbin to remember where he is. He looks around at the room apprehensively before standing and bowing sheepishly to the rest of the Student Council.

"I'm so sorry for the disrespectful outburst," he apologizes, voice returning to its usual "perfect" tone and the dimples beneath his eyes cratering as he smiles embarrassedly. "But as Student Body President, I simply can't condone bullying. Especially of one of our Officers, who is..."

Hanbin finally looks at you, his eyes suspiciously genuine. He averts your gaze awkwardly after just a moment, turning back to address the rest of the Student Council members. "Who is the best Student Government Secretary I could've ever asked for. And whom unfortunately, has a terrible fear of public speaking."

You watch as the crowd of students begin to look down at their hands and their laps guiltily.

"(Y/N) has had incredible ideas for this school," Hanbin starts, his eyebrows raising when he remembers he can't actually mention all of the ideas you've had for this school-- as he had always been the one to pitch them and, in turn, pass them off for his own. He recovers, "That have never been heard by us before due to (Y/N)'s fear of public speaking! And it's a shame that on (Y/N)'s first attempt to show them to us, you responded with bullying and ridicule."

The students in the classroom are now all doe-eyed as they take in Hanbin's words and, as you realize what's going on, you have to suppress a laugh.

"Incredible," you whisper, shaking your head in disbelief at the boy that is Sung Hanbin.

"I think we should all treat each other with the utmost respect and kindness-- especially as members of the Student Government. And this, coincidentally, plays into (Y/N)'s proposal about mental health resources at our school," Hanbin continues, doing what he does best. "I think we should move to vote on this proposal immediately."

"You're right, Sunbaenim!" The same student that had hurled insults at you earlier agrees enthusiastically as he stands up from his seat, eyes practically turning to hearts as they gaze upon Hanbin. "We need to provide more anti-bullying and mental health resources for our students. I'm so glad you came up with this brilliant proposal!"

"Oh, I didn't! I--," Hanbin starts to correct, but you already know how this ends as you sit back down in your seat with a heavy sigh.

"What would we do without our shining Student Body President?" Another student calls, starting a round of applause for Hanbin.

You observe him quietly, watching as any signs of protest slowly leave his face. He smiles resignedly back at his peers, clasping his hands together to nod graciously at them as the other Officers join in on the applause as well.

Even when Sung Hanbin tried to help you, it all ended up falling perfectly back into his lap anyway.

~

"What page are we on now?"

You groan, slamming your book down on the table. "Is this going to be a pattern? Do I have to eat lunch in the bathroom from now on?"

"Not my ideal place to eat lunch, but," he pauses, placing his hands down flat on the table with a smile. "I'll brave it for you."

You pick up your collector's edition of Jane Eyre and drop it on his right hand.

He presses his lips together firmly, looking up to the corner of the room as he tries to ignore the pain. "Okay, I know yesterday didn't go like we'd hoped, but--."

"Like I hoped," you correct, shaking your head in disgust. "I asked you to read my proposal for me. And everyone just ended up pretending like it was yours anyway. And you went along with it!"

"Well--."

"Where is the 'we' in any of that?" You cut him off quickly, watching as his brow furrows. "There is no we. You stole my proposal; just like you stole the Decathlon."

Hanbin stares at you silently for a moment, before responding softly, "I'm sorry."

"Sure you are."

"I am!" He pleads and you hate to admit that he appears earnest. "Really, I didn't mean for that to happen. I stuck up for you when that asshole made fun of you! It's not like I didn't do anything at all."

You stare back at Hanbin wordlessly. He had stood up in front of the entire Student Council to scold that stupid kid in your defense. You'd never seen him get angry in front of people like that before. He'd always cared too much about his perfect, clean image.

"I want to make it up to you," he says with a nod. "So I have a proposal for you."

"Is it the one you stole from me?" You deadpan.

He sighs exasperatedly. "Shut up and let me tell you I have a spot for you on the Blue Team for the rest of this semester!"

You blink back at him in surprise. "What?"

"You deserve to win Scholastic Decathlon at least once, (Y/N)," Hanbin says with a smile. "And if you're really not gonna compete again next year then let me make it happen this season."

"Hanbin..." You falter, brow furrowing suspiciously. "Y-... your team is full."

"I told you there's always a spot for you," he rebuts quickly. "Ilsung's been pretty annoying recently anyway. Didn't you hear what he said about you at Regionals?"

Sighing annoyedly, you take a sip of your iced tea. "Hanbin, I can't join your team."

"Why not?" He whines, folding his hands on the table and resting his chin on them. "You'd be doing me a really big favor!"

"Aren't you the one whose supposed to be doing me a favor?"

Hanbin blinks up at you, pouting in a sickening display of cuteness. "Pleeeeaaase..."

"If you don't stop that right now, I will shove this entire bottle of tea UP your--."

"I'd like to see you try."

~

It's been a week since Hanbin had asked you to join the Blue Team for the remainder of the season. Since then, "Hanbin's" Student Government proposal regarding mental health resources on campus has passed three student votes and, today, a school-wide assembly is taking place to celebrate the proposal and the Student Body President's exceptional efforts.

Your moral obligation to your Secretary duties coming before your feelings, you had written Hanbin's speech for this afternoon just like you always did.

It has also been a week and a day since Hanbin started eating lunch with you in the library. No matter how hard you tried to bully him into leaving you alone to your collector's edition of Jane Eyre (or how hard you smacked him with various items from your lunchbox), your efforts were in vain.

Hanbin had no intentions of ceasing your "lunch dates", as he called them (always prompting you to hit him once more). He'd flinched at first when Hyungjun and Stephanie walked up to the both of you last Friday, face flushing when they asked him what he was doing eating lunch with you.

But just as soon as that fear of being perceived as imperfect appeared, it subsequently faded away.

"A President and his Secretary notoriously make a pretty good duo, don't you think?" He'd said with an innocent smile.

Hyungjun and Stephanie looked at each other confusedly, of course interpreting Hanbin's words to imply something different than he'd meant.

"Oh! Oh no," Hanbin had clarified quickly, raising his hands in defense. "I meant, as... I meant as friends!"

Hyungjun and Stephanie had nodded quickly before excusing themselves and running out of the library.

"This is why I have to curate all of your words for you," you had said, rolling your eyes at him.

But no matter how much you outwardly displayed your dislike of Hanbin's presence during your lunch period... you'd be lying if you said you hadn't started to get used to him bothering you with his company.

Perhaps you'd even started to like it.

So now, as Hanbin stands behind the tall, wooden podium in the center of the gymnasium delivering the speech you wrote for him, you stand at the back of the gym and observe him carefully. He really is a great public speaker-- every word you've written for him coming to life on his tongue.

But there's a sentence he utters that suddenly catches your attention as you realize he's no longer referencing the paper in front of him.

“The truth is… I didn’t write this proposal,” Hanbin confesses, a wave of confused and shocked whispers sounding across the room. Your stomach churns as you hang onto his every word.

He swallows nervously, before continuing, “And, furthermore, I also haven’t written any of the proposals or speeches that I’ve given during my time as Student Body President. Secretary (Y/N) has written all of them.”

Horrified, you look around the room as everyone’s eyes come to rest on you. Desperately resisting the urge to curl up into a ball and die, your focus remains locked on Hanbin. 

“I'm so sorry to disappoint all of my peers and teachers, but I needed to tell the truth as it's the right thing to finally do,” he continues, nodding affirmatively. “And I also have something to say about the Scholastic Decathlon. The only reason the Blue Team won Regionals this year is because—.”

“Because you’re such an incredible team!” You shout, standing up suddenly and instantly regretting it. Hanbin’s eyes meet yours immediately, his eyebrows raised in shock at your sudden outburst. But there’s no going back now. 

Walking up to the stage quickly as you do your best to dissociate, you push Hanbin aside when you reach the podium. “Hi, everyone. I’m so sorry for the confusion, but Hanbin is actually quite under-the-weather. He’s so dedicated to his role as Student Body President that he still wanted to deliver his speech today even with a fever. We pumped him full of ibuprofen, but…”

You turn to Hanbin, who is staring at you as if you have two heads. You touch the back of your hand to his forehead and put on the performance of your lifetime as you dote over him. “Oh my gosh, he’s burning up! You poor thing.”

“What are you doing? I was gonna—,” Hanbin protests, but you cut him off by stepping on his foot behind the podium. He seethes at the pain, glaring at you as you continue to save his ass.

“Unfortunately Hanbin is very sick, so he’s not really making much sense. I’m sure he will apologize for the confusion when he’s feeling better,” you conclude, grabbing Hanbin by the arm. “I’ll bring him to the nurse’s office now.”

As you drag a flabbergasted Hanbin through the crowd and out the gymnasium doors, you march down the hallway and into an empty classroom. Pulling him inside, you lock the door behind him quickly and shove him up against it a bit more aggressively than you’d intended.

“Are you CRAZY!?” You shout, hands balled up in his dress shirt as he gawks back at you wordlessly.

“Are YOU!?” He shouts back, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “(Y/N), what are you doing? I was trying to tell everybody the truth!”

“WELL, STOP IT!!”

Hanbin’s cheeks flush pink as he looks at your hands fisted up in his white-button down. He’s entirely flustered by your uncharacteristic display of force. “W—… What?”

Dropping your hands to your sides, you repeat, “Stop it before you ruin your fucking life, you absolute moron!”

“I—… Isn’t that what you want?" He asks confusedly. "I was terrible to you. Don’t you want me to pay for what I did?”

“What I wanted was to finally win Decathlon fair and square. And to have my name on my own stupid proposals and speeches for once.”

“But… I’m the one who made sure none of that happened. You even said you were gonna quit Decathlon next year because of me," Hanbin protests. "Come on, you have to want me to face some sort of serious consequence!”

“Hanbin! What’s… Why are you doing this!?" You exclaim, stepping back from the boy. "Do you want me to join the Blue Team that bad? You won't even be allowed back on it if you tell everybody the truth.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, of course not!”

“Then what’s the deal, huh? I know it’s something. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you really just feel sorry for everything that's ever happened between us all of a sudden?”

“It’s not… It’s not all of a sudden. I—…” Now Hanbin is giving you a run for your money as the worst stammering mess. “I’ve been sorry ever since you said that you…”

Growing impatient, you demand, “Since I said that I what!?”

“That you were disappointed in me!” He shouts under pressure— his lips parting slightly as he sharply inhales at his own words.

You blink back at him, eyes just as wide as his. “I said that?”

He nods slowly. “You—… you leaned towards me and with all of this fire in your eyes, you told me that you were disappointed in me. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

"I don't remember," you say as you swallow nervously-- the tone of Hanbin's voice almost daring you to think he might’ve meant something more. “To be honest, I was so mad that I… I sort of blacked out.”

He smiles now, genuinely and the cute under-eye dimples that are reserved for public events are now on display only for you. You’d be lying if you said they didn’t make you feel some type of way in this unexpectedly intimate moment. “I’m not surprised. You also called me a ‘cheating asshole’ and a ‘self-righteous prick’.”

You press your lips together, slightly embarrassed before mumbling, “You deserved it.”

“I did!” He agrees a little too enthusiastically. “I deserve worse, actually.”

“Hanbin…”

(super secret spicy alternate ending 🌶️ HERE 🌶️-- minors do not view/interact; just continue reading below!! also pls read bothhhhh if you are of age hahaha if you want no pressure but pressure)

“Come on, (Y/N)— I’m everything you said I am and more,” he says, biting his lip. “So why shouldn’t everybody know what you know?”

“Because I already forgave you, you dumbass!”

Hanbin’s mouth is already open to protest, but when he actually hears your words it shuts tightly. His head tilts to the side innocently in a questioning gaze. "You did?"

You sigh. "Yes. I mean, you've done a lot to try to make everything up to me. And I let you keep eating lunch with me, didn't I?"

The boy in front of you's lips part in surprise before he finally grins. "I knew you liked eating lunch with me more than Jane Eyre!"

You roll your eyes, trying and failing to hold back a grin of your own. "Any more unkind words towards Jane and we're kicking you out of the lunch club."

He laughs and you notice for the first time how beautifully joy manifests on his face. But his expression quickly becomes more serious once again. "I really am sorry, (Y/N). For everything. I've been awful to you for way too long and... I can't tell you how much I regret it. It turns out I actually really like you!"

Your jaw drops at his sudden confession and... so does his.

"As a person!" He exclaims, holding both hands up in defense as he laughs awkwardly. "I meant, as a person. You know phrasing's not my strong suit."

Cheeks heating up, you nod understandingly though you hate to admit his words had your heart racing.

Hanbin's lips press together in a dimpled smile. "So... does this mean you'll join the Blue Team for the rest of the year?"

You pucker your lips for a moment as you think, before answering definitively, "No. I could never betray my Pink Team like that."

He bites his lip, nodding sadly in agreement at your sentiment. Reaching for the door handle and unlocking it, your eyes reconnect with Hanbin's. In the end, he'd gone through all this effort just to make things right-- more than you'd ever expected him to do for you.

And the tiny frown on his face isn't helping to convince you to leave him empty-handed.

"But if I remember correctly," you add, your hand falling from the door knob to your side as you muster up all of the courage hiding deep within you. "You also pitched me an alternative."

Hanbin's eyes narrow in confusion before they suddenly light up, lips parted in shock.

"So maybe we can graduate from 'lunch dates' to a real date some time," you say, and it's not a question. Hanbin just stands there, grinning like an absolute idiot. "How does that sound?"

"Good," he says, nodding rapidly. "It sounds good."

"Good," you affirm, opening the door of the classroom. "Now let's get out of here..."

Hanbin follows you into the hallway, still smiling like he just won the lottery.

"Stop looking so happy," you say, smacking his shoulder playfully. "You're about to have to go to the nurse's office and fake the worst flu of your fucking life."

[hwangalleryy]

JENNIE'S BODY

jennie e rosé. status: disponível.

[robobarbie]

robo 😘😘😘 can we please get juicy masculine tiddies OF DILF NIGHTOWL 🤭🤭🤭🤭 PLEASE (teehee)

i wish i had the time... however, in the meantime, i saw a dilf nightowl fic tonight courtesy of [REDACTED] about hooking up in a hotel room a couple years after your divorce from each other. I feel like this could quench the thirst

[scrollonso]

Untitled 2 — Marcmarc

Logically speaking, it doesn't make much sense. Marc is literally his boyfriend.

But there's still that nagging voice, that feeling in his stomach that has persisted since the time he was old enough to know about the pleasures that come with touching oneself. There's that desperate need for self preservation. There's still that guilt.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” Marco says, trying his best not to sound suspicious as he stands from the living room couch.

Marc playfully kicks at the back of Marco's shin as he passes in front of him. “Want me to pause it?” he asks.

Marco shakes his head. “Nah, I think that ice cream I had earlier is catching up to me. I might be gone for a while.”

Marc makes a funny face. “Gross.”

Marco forces a laugh before he's down the hall, locking himself in the bathroom.

Marc's has always been attractive, that's a fact that's completely undeniable. Marco isn't even usually a love-at-first-sight kind of guy, but he remembers the very moment he first laid eyes on Marc. Not to be dramatic, but the feeling could only be akin to staring directly at a sun parting gray clouds. Or maybe the feeling of finally surfacing from beneath an oppressive wave in the deep ocean. After dating for a year and a half, and now finally living together, one might think the shattering infatuation would eventually simmer down. But it's been quite the opposite if one were to ask Marco how he feels about the whole ordeal. If anything, the infatuation has become worse.

The guilt burns beneath his skin as he loosens the drawstring of his shorts, pushing the waistband down to his mid-thighs. He can still hear the muffled sounds of the corny action flick playing in the background. Good, Marco thinks, it'll serve as the perfect distraction.

Marco knows feeling horny is normal. It's taken a good amount of years to rewire his brain in terms of not feeling completely guilty about wanting to touch himself. But his history with the church obviously must still have some form of hold over him, because he still can't bring himself to tell Marc about when he gets this way. Or rather, all the times he gets this way. Which seems to be damn near every day at this point.

Being horny for your boyfriend when you live apart is one thing. But living under the same roof has Marco feeling like his skin is constantly on fire. All thoughts that consume his mind is just how badly he wants Marc's hands on him, everywhere, at all times of day. Is he becoming some sick sex addict? Or maybe it's his brain making up for all the years of being sexually stunted. Whatever the case, he just can't bring himself to tell Marc about every single time he has sexually depraved thoughts about the man. So he makes up for it like this, hiding in the bathroom to get himself off.

He bites the hem of his shirt to keep himself quiet as he slips two fingers inside. He's already so wet that he doesn't need to wait. It's quite pathetic, actually, the way this has become so easy for him.

He closes his eyes and imagines that it's Marc's fingers stretching him full. He imagines that it's Marc's thumb grazing his clit, driving him insane.

He moans quietly around the hem of his t-shirt, spit beginning to soak the fabric as he desperately rolls his hips to the image in his mind.

And on the other side of the bathroom door, just a few feet away is Marc, none the wiser, dressed in a simple pair of loose-fitting shorts and a white tank top. The outfit had been so unassuming, something completely normal to wear on a hot summer day. Yet here Marco is fingering himself in the guest bathroom of their shared apartment because he can't get his brain to stop thinking like a horny teenager.

He picks up the pace, adjusting his stance as he plunges his fingers into his drooling cunt. He pictures Marc fucking him from behind, he can almost feel Marc's hands gripping against his waist, and the tickle of Marc's stubble against the back of his neck.

He should probably just walk out of the bathroom and let Marc know he wants his dick right now. But how ridiculous would that sound?

“Hey, Marc. I know we're in the middle of watching cars explode and bad guys getting their heads blown off, but I'm really turned on right now. Let's fuck.”

No way, there has to be some level of decorum.

When he finally cums a few minutes later, the post-nut clarity is enough to humiliate him even without the haunting echoes of some past preacher going on about the sanctity of sex. Yikes.

It's gotten bad. It's gotten really bad. They're in the middle of having dinner with Marc's parents when the sudden need overcomes him again. It's ridiculous, really. Not a single thing about the situation is sexy in the slightest, but Marc's parents are going on about the antics Marc would get himself into when he was a teenager and suddenly Marco has this deep feeling of 'wow, this is the man I'm in love with and I'm learning about this part of him that existed before I knew him and I really want to keep him in my life and I really need him inside of me.'

That's the thought that has Marco awkwardly excusing himself to the bathroom, yet again.

He closes the door quickly, doubly making sure the door is locked behind him before he's fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

He doesn't even need to slide his fingers inside this time, that's how bothered he is. He coats his fingers good and well with saliva before rubbing against his clit in fast circular motions, mindful of the noises he makes.

If God hasn't judged him before, He's for sure judging him now. Your boyfriend's parents are down the hall and you can't keep yourself together for just one night?

He cums ridiculously fast to the point that it almost startles him, leaking over the palm of his hand and into the lining of his briefs. He can only laugh at himself when he struggles to quickly wipe the cum from the fabric of his clothes.

When he finally flushes the toilet paper and washes his hands as thoroughly as he can, he can only hope the timing of it all hadn't been too suspicious.

He should've anticipated this. Four months of living under the same roof, he was bound to eventually get caught.

The thing is, neither of them are really that fond of the kitchen. As much as it strains their wallets, eating out is usually the go-to. Especially when they're both exhausted from long days of work.

But for whatever reason, today Marc had wanted to pretend he was some gourmet chef cooking up the finest steak meal he could muster. And really, who was Marco to say no? It's not like he was any good in the kitchen.

He'd been watching Marc throw down from the bar of their kitchen counter, and there had just been something about the image of it all – the concentration set between Marc's brows, the flex of his arms under his black tee, the way his fingers moved with a sense of skill that Marco just never could gather when it came to cooking – it was all too much. Something primal pooled in Marc's stomach, a flame flickering beneath his skin. A sense of deep possession overcame him. My man, my man, he's really all mine.

But Marc was setting the plates after so much work that he'd put in. And Marco wasn't going to make this nasty. At least not in front of the man.

“I'll be right back,” Marc said.

Before Marc could ask where he's going, Marco was already down the hall, locking the bathroom door behind himself.

He really couldn't get his pants down fast enough. His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt, struggling to pull it free of the loop. When he finally managed to get his pants down to his ankles, he awkwardly stumbled out of them, nearly tripping as he kneeled down to reach beneath the cabinet sink in search of something secret he'd hidden there about a week ago.

He found it right where he'd stashed it, behind a basket of spare toilet paper and tucked between miscellaneous cleaners. It was packed in a small box, small enough to blend in with the bathroom supplies and go unnoticed by his boyfriend in the event that he'd ever go exploring for something beneath their guest bathroom sink.

The hidden item in question? A vibrator.

Yes, that's how ridiculous this has gotten. Like some sort of nicotine fiend who hides their pack of smokes behind a windowsill so as not to get caught by their parents, Marco is hiding his vibrator.

It's pretty unassuming, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand with a satisfactory, pink bulbous head. He rinsed it off quickly before putting it to his mouth to generously coat the thing with saliva.

When it was soaked well enough, he wasted no time bringing it to his pussy, spreading his legs and sliding the head of the vibrator between his slit. His cunt was already clenching, wetting itself from the contact of the vibrator, and Marco could only imagine it as Marc's cock that got him this way. He closed his eyes, breath growing deep and rapid as he worked to get himself off quickly, pushing the vibrator through his folds and teasing against his clit.

Heat coiled in his stomach. His thighs shook as he balanced himself, leaning back against the sink. When he finally pushed the vibrator inside, he pictured Marc sliding into him. He pictured Marc fucking him on the kitchen counter, not caring to knock over the delicious meal he'd just slaved away making. He pictured Marc kissing him hungrily, one fist tight in his hair and the other gripping Marco's thigh, holding him open and taking whatever he needed from Marco regardless of how prepared Marco was for the size of his cock.

Marco gasped, trying his best to stay quiet as he rolled his hips, plunging the vibrator into himself at a fast, even pace.

He felt himself getting so close already. So close to reaching the edge that he began to feel dizzy. He sunk down further, widening his legs even more. The angle allowed the toy to push into him further, not as deep as he knew Marc could get but deep enough to have Marco's stomach tightening in pleasure nonetheless.

“Marc,” he cried, head leaning back and knocking against the sink's cabinet door. He was far too lost to even care.

He pressed the vibrator all the way in, to the hilt. With his thumb, he found the switch to turn it on, setting it to a medium speed and holding it there, pressing it up at an angle that set his nerves on fire. With his free hand, he drew lazy circles against his clit, making his jaw drop in a silent moan.

This was it, he was really nearing his end now. He imagined Marc ruining him on the counter. He imagined Marc's thick fingers working over his clit, making Marco's cunt drool over the linoleum and pool onto the wood flooring beneath them.

“Like that?” Marc would ask, voice tight and strained with pleasure.

“Yes, yes... fuck. Right there, perfect. Right there!”

Marco's walls tightened, his head swam with pleasure. His thumb slides the vibrator up to high, and he's right there, right on the edge. So close. So, so close. And–

Presently, a loud thud bangs against the bathroom wall.

Marco's eyes shoot open to find the bathroom door wide open and Marc standing before him, eyes blown wide in shock. Marco yelps in embarrassment, almost crying as he quickly pulls his legs shut. The vibrator slips from his cunt, falling heavy to the bathroom floor and tumbling across the dark wood towards Marc's feet.

“Marc!” The fear has Marco speaking before his brain can catch up to what's happening.

He'd been caught. How could he have forgotten to lock the bathroom door? That was so damn stupid.

“Shit, sorry,” Marc stutters. He steps back awkwardly. “I thought– I heard you making noises. Sorry, I thought you were hurt in here or…”

Marco stands up fully on shaking legs, trying to step back into his pants. Slick is dribbling down his inner thighs but he feels far too humiliated to do anything about how uncomfortable it feels. The vibrator is still buzzing at Marc's feet. Marc's face looks pale.

So this is how it ends, huh? Marc finding out that his boyfriend has become nothing but a sex addict who can't keep himself in check long enough to even have a simple dinner? God had warned about lust, the potential ruin it could have on people's lives. Marco had tried to put that all behind himself, but maybe he was finally facing his damnation.

“I'm sorry,” Marco cries.

He makes for the door, ready to run off and hide himself in their bedroom because, really, he doesn't think he can face this right now. But before he can get past Marc's position outside the bathroom door, Marc's hand is grabbing him and holding him in place.

“Woah, hold up,” Marc says.

And thankfully, he doesn't sound angry. Despite the wave of prickly heat beneath Marco's skin, he can at least feel okay that Marc doesn't seem upset. But is the look of confusion he holds on his face completely better?

“What's this all about?” Marc asks. He picks the vibe off the floor. Marco cringes internally as the thing keeps buzzing resiliently, covered in the sheen of his slick.

“I'm–” Truthfully, Marco isn't even sure what to say.

“Your cooking made me horny,” didn't exactly sound like a reasonable answer.

“I didn't know you were into toys. Were you hiding this from me? I wouldn't judge, you know?”

Oh, that's what he thinks this is about? Hiding toys?

To be fair, Marc has never used toys with him in the bedroom before. Most of their sex has been pretty vanilla, and really it's never bothered Marco. Quite the opposite, even. Marc has always made him feel good. And that's the issue. Maybe it's all too good. Too good to the point that all his body craves is sex. It was almost terrifying when Marco finally ordered that vibrator online after having it sit in his cart for weeks debating on buying it. And the fact that he'd had the package delivered to his personal P.O. Box instead of letting it show up at their apartment's doorstep? It's gotta be considered some level of deranged at this point.

Marco stammers, “No, it's not the toy… it's me.”

He takes the vibrator from Marc's hand, wondering if maybe he should just throw the thing away.

“What do you mean?” Marc asks. “Are you okay?”

Marco is silent as he turns back to the bathroom sink. The vibrator's box is sitting on the counter, open and mocking. Marco fumbles to put the toy back inside.

“Marco, what's going on?”

Marc places a hand over Marco's. It stays there, and Marco isn't sure if he should run or stay still until Marc lets him go.

“Talk to me,” Marc says, voice soothing. “If somethings wrong, let me help you. I'm just kind of lost here.”

“I'm really sorry,” Marco apologizes yet again, to Marc, to himself. The whole situation makes Marco feel dizzy and off kilter.

Marc looks at him, eyes softening. He slides the box from Marco's grip, placing it gently on the bathroom counter. He takes a step closer to Marco, still holding his hand.

“What are you saying sorry for?” Marc asks. “Seriously, what's going on?”

Marco takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. If this is going to be his demise, he may as well get it over with now. "I... I can't stop thinking about you. About us. All the time.” Marco sinks down to the floor, legs nearly giving out from the anxiety of it all.

“What do you mean?” Marc lowers after him.

“I don't know, it's like I'm constantly on fire, and I feel so guilty about it. I guess I grew up being told that these feelings were wrong, and now... living with you... constantly feeling turned on, it's overwhelming."

Marc's expression softens even more as he listens. “You're saying you feel guilty about sex?” He asks.

Marco rakes a nervous hand through his sweaty curls, feeling frustrated at how ridiculous it sounds to hear himself say all of this out loud.

“Yes… and no. Not exactly about sex. I guess, the constant need for it? Like, it just feels wrong,” he tries to explain, but even he feels like it makes very little sense.

Marc pulls Marco into a gentle hug, holding him close. "Marco, it's okay to want to have sex. We're together, I think it's natural to have feelings like that. I mean, trust me,” Marc laughs. “I think about having sex with you too. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you. And I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. Ever."

Marco leans against Marc's shoulder, feeling the weight of his guilt start to lift, slightly.

"Sorry,” Marco mutters. “I guess I'm just scared you'll think I'm some kind of sex addict or... or that you'll get tired of me."

Marc pulls back slightly, just enough to look into Marco's eyes. "I love you, Marco. All of you. I promise if there's anything that's upsetting you, I want to work through it together. And I hope you'd want the same for me too, right? We shouldn't hide things like this from each other.”

Marco stays silent for a moment, taking in what Marc has to say. It should be that simple. Maybe he's overthinking it. If Marc had come to him with a “Hey, Marco, I constantly think about you when I jack off,” Marco knows wouldn't have judged Marc for it, so why is it so hard to give himself the same level of grace?

He lets out a shuddered breath, trying to get the tightness in his chest to go away completely. With Marc's hand in his, it helps.

“Thank you, Marc. I love you too.”

“Of course.” Marco slightly nudges Marco's rib with his elbow, his face easing into a smile. “I mean, how could you resist someone as cool and sexy as me?”

Marco laughs, pulling his hand from Marc'd to playfully swat at him. “Shut up,” he says, not an ounce of malice in his voice.

Marc pulls him closer again, kissing his cheek before standing, holding out a hand to help Marco up off the bathroom floor. “I guess the dinner I made is going to have to go cold for a while,” he says.

He grabs the vibrator box from the counter, turning the thing in his hand as looks over the label.

“What do you mean?” Marco asks.

Marc looks at him with a mischievous grin. “Well, aren't you interested in finishing up what you started here?”

Oh!

It takes Marc's fingers only a few strokes to get Marco ready again. And Marco, who's still grossly wet from previous endeavors, has very little time to feel embarrassed about it before Marc's tongue is already where he needs it most.

“Oh my god,” Marco gasps, head lolling back against the pillow beneath him.

His hand finds the crown of Marc's head, gripping tight in his hair to ground himself as he angles his hips upwards. His breath goes shaky as Marc's tongue teases at his entrance, dipping in only slightly, enough to have Marco's hole drooling in anticipation.

“Please,” Marco begs.

Marc squeezes his clit gently, catching it again and again as Marco's body trembles with oversensitivity. When Marc's tongue slides up to warm his clit, Marco's body is reacting all on its own, fist clenching in Marc's hair and knee jerking up against his side. Marc groans into his cunt, using one hand to push Marco's leg aside and hold him open at full display.

“Sorry,” Marco breathes.

Marc hums in return, the heat of his breath melting Marco to his core. It's moments like this when Marco really feels insane, letting go of all his convictions and letting Marc take control of his body. It's nice to let his mind slip, muddled in a fog of pleasure. It makes him feel hot all over and wonderfully weightless.

“Feels good,” Marco says, shutting his eyes.

Marc's lips wrap around his clit, sucking softly and kissing against it, longingly and desperately like it's his long-lost lover. It brings tears to Marco's eyes. He feels them rolling down his cheeks, but he's too lost in how good it all feels to wipe them away.

Marco loses the ability to control his moans completely when Marc's fingers push inside. He works them expertly, sliding them with a satisfying ease from Marco's wetness. The vibrator had felt great, but this feeling is unmatched. The way Marc eats him is akin to devout worship. Marvo can feel him in a way that a toy couldn't replicate, fingers crooked in at just the right angle, exactly where Marco needs them to be.

Marco bites his lip, trying to control himself not to come too quickly, but he doesn't really have to because Marc knows him all too well. As Marco nearly reaches his climax, Marc's tongue slightly pulls away, lapping against Marco's clit at a slower pace. Unhurriedly, like he has all the time in the world.

Marco finally swallows the spit that had built up, opening his eyes to protest, meeting Marc's heated gaze from between his thighs.

“Don't tease me,” Marco begs.

Marc fully pulls away with a grin. “Oh, don't like that?”

“Not when I'm so close.”

Marc licks his lips before moving up to sit on his knees. From this angle, Marco can see just how hard Marc is. The full mast of his cock standing at attention making Marco's cunt throbs at the image.

“Marc, I really need you inside,” Marco says.

Possession overcomes him again, that same feeling he had watching Marc cook for him in the kitchen earlier. He pulls Marc into a kiss, uncoordinated and full of teeth. Marc moans into his mouth, gripping Marco's waist to pull him down and flip them over.

Marco renegotiates himself, pushing his legs up to straddle Marc's waist as their mouths move together hungrily. Marco doesn't even care that he can hardly breathe.

Marc's cock slides against Marco's ass, streaking his skin in wet, sticky precum. He wiggles his hips, pushing his ass against Marc's stiffness, finding satisfaction in the way Marc seems to be losing it too, his breath becoming more labored, mouth falling open and saliva spilling down his chin.

“Now you're the one teasing me,” Marc murmurs.

Marco smiles against Marc's lips, but doesn't break their sloppy kiss.

Marc's hands slide down his sides. He grips Marco's ass, kneading harshly into the meat of it, holding Marco in place as he adjusts his hips. His cock slides between Marco's cheeks as he cants his hips upwards, in long fluid strokes. Then he's lifting Marco up higher before settling him down over his cock slowly, pushing himself up to breach Marco's hole.

The fit of it has Marco groaning, drooling over Marc's lips.

“Fuck, you're not wearing a condom,” Marco notes, but doesn't make a move to stop anything from going forward.

Marc forces Marco down to the base, where they finally become fully connected. They both pant in unison, unmoving. Giving themselves a moment to adjust to their new position.

Marco sits up, balancing himself by placing his hands on Marc's chest. Marc's cheeks are flushed red and he has this misty, half-lidded gaze that's got Marco feeling butterflies deep in his stomach. Along with Marc's dick.

“You're so beautiful,” Marco says.

Marc's lips ease into a grin and he laughs, reaching up to cup Marco's face. “You're one to talk, sweet boy,” he says, low and breathless.

Marco pulls Marc's hand away from his cheek to kiss the inside of his palm.

“I love you,” Marco says.

“C'mere.”

Marc pulls him down to bring their lips together again, and this time it's less rushed. A soft peck leading into a nice, languid kiss. Marc's hand slides up to the nape of Marco's neck, guiding Marco deeper into the kiss. It makes Marco's thoughts slow. Marc hums softly when Marco nibbles at his lower lip.

Slowly, Marco begins rocking himself in Marc's lap, rolling his hips and lightly lifting himself on Marc's cock. He feels so full this way, he almost wishes Marc could stay inside of him like this forever.

Marc grips Marco's waist with both hands to help him balance, allowing Marco to take what he wants.

Marco sits up, leaning his head back to give himself more leverage to fully move his hips. He rises higher, beginning to ease into a faster pace. And Marc watches him ride, eyes soft with affection.

Heat coils in Marco's lower abdomen, and he feels his cunt tighten around Marc's cock inside of him. The heat spreads over him, then through his limbs. It's like his body is melting all at once.

“Ah– ahh,” Marco moans, bringing his fingers to his clit as he rocks himself in Marc's lap.

“That's it, baby,” Marc says. His hand slides up to thumb against Marco's pierced nipple, rolling the bud and metal beneath his fingertip. “Keep going like that. You feel so good.”

The speed increases, the wet between them becomes disgustingly loud. The room becomes hot with the labor of their panting bodies, moving in tandem, skin slapping against skin.

“God, I'm so close,” Marco gasps, closing his eyes and massaging his clit faster.

“Cum for me. You're so pretty, baby. Make yourself cum on my cock,” Marc says, voice sending a pleasant wave of heat though Marco's tired muscles.

The heat makes Marco's cunt tighten then relax as a wave of intense, white pleasure washes through him. He chokes through a sob on his release, thighs trembling and nearly giving out.

“Marc, Fuck,” he cries, body going rigid as he finally cums.

Marc fucks into him, fast, chasing his own orgasm soon after. The heat of Marc's cum fills him and it's the first time in a long while that he and Marc have fucked without a condom. The feeling of being coated on the inside with Marc's fluids makes Marco feel wonderfully euphoric. He sighs happily, riding out the rest of Marc's orgasm before he falls forward against Marc's chest. He buries his face against Marco's neck, kissing there and rolling his hips lazily to milk Marc's cock for all he can.

After a while, Marc's moans turn into overstimulated grunts.

“Fuck, that's enough, baby” Marc breathes, rolling them over and letting his cock slide from Marco's hole.

He feels Marc's cum spilling between his legs, soaking the sheets beneath them. It's not exactly comfortable, but Marc's lips are on his again and that's enough of a distraction.

Their kissing goes on and on until Marco is genuinely feeling lightheaded, like he just might pass out. He pulls away with an airy laugh, cupping Marc's cheek to look at him.

Marc looks just as fucked out as Marco feels, but he too has a smile on his face.

“What's so funny?” Marc asks.

“Nothing,” Marco says. “I just remembered our food is going cold.”

[artisticestheticreads]

Summertime Magic XIV

A/N: Heyyy, how you doin’? Okay okay. I know it’s BEEN years BUT I’ve been a hell of busy for so long. I got into streaming, creating content on YouTube, traveling, and enjoying life. I noticed that my SummerTime Magic fan fic has been in rotation lately… so why not bring it back for the last two chapters for the one time? I had been rereading every chapter, flaw and all, and realized my writing has gotten way over the years and I won’t lie, I missed y’all so much. So let's finish this story off strong.

To Catch Up, Press Here.

Warning: Some fluffy Daka, some lovey-dovey stuff... and maybe, some stuff at the end that would y'all heart and soul.

Word Count: 7598

There was a couple leaning in a silver Nissan Altima, wearing all black hiding in the night. “So, what you got planned to fuck them over,” said the man who was still upset N’Jadaka has his ex now. He looked towards the woman and said “just know, you inspired this plan… a lot.”  The woman was about to do something to ruin what a good thing the couple had, but she didn’t care and was willing to do anything to let Y/N know she made a huge mistake.

Y/N was in her office at her brand new shop before the day started. Her hair was in goddess cornrows, charms and golden thread braided into each one. She wore the jewelry her man gifted her from their anniversary with a white leotard bodysuit, long, jaded green skirt with a slit on the side and some nude heels that paired perfectly with her golden bracelets. One by one, her crew started to make their way in and began to prepare for the day; the day started at 9 am and ended at 7 pm.

“Okay, everyone. We have quite a few appointments today including hair, nails, and waxes. We have all eight people here so we should be good along with having our entire receptionist team as well. Our goal is to make at least $10K which is possible with all the high school events and weddings happening around this time, yeah?”  Her team agreed before she checked the time on her phone; it was about to hit 8:50 and she could spot the repeating customers driving and waiting in the parking lot in front of the shop, coffees and breakfast in hand. Y/N nodded as the team dispersed and began to set the music and TV on. 

The day began and she knew it was going to be a long one ahead of her. She tied her apron around her tightly and began with her first customer, dye touch up and retwist. She had her neo soul mix on Spotify play throughout the shop as she worked on her male client, laughing with his mom who wanted her boy to not embarrass the family name nor his girlfriend for prom happening the next day. Y/N decided to throw in a free line up to make sure he was extra fresh; the mom tipped her a hundred and fifty dollars. 

Her next client was a loud mouth teen whose prom was the day of but she claimed to be “tender headed”. The young lady wanted everything done to her head to the point it looked like a tornado swept up Kansas so Y/]N convinced her to do a simple yet curly middle part bust down with her red 28 inches of weave; the young lady tipped her twenty bucks but her father slid her and extra two hundred for the time and trouble. 

Before she knew it, it was already one pm so she started to head to her parents’ home to visit and eat lunch with her mom since she was working from home that day. Y/N pulled up in front of the house and stepped out fixing her skirt. She began to walk up the steps when she heard her father yell out. “I SMELL SHEA BUTTER AND COCONUT OIL!!!! MY FIRST BORN IS HERE!!!!”; Y/N laughed before walking in and her father made his way to her on a cane, still healing his knees. “Hey, pa. How you healing?”

“Shit, I feel brand new now but ya raggedy ass momma made me get a cane just in case.”  “I heard that, muthafucka. Y/N/N, I’m in the kitchen, baby.”

Tommy looked at his eldest child and whispered “ya ass got me in trouble.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen with a grin. Tasha was making lunch for the family which was a huge Caesar Salad inspired pasta with the salad on the side and toasted rolls. “Hey, momma.” “Hey, momma’s baby. How is the shop doin’?” “Good, money looking real nice with the prom season and graduation around the corner. Been booked and oh so busy”, explained Y/N after she kissed her mother’s sweet cheek. Her mom was in the middle of chopping the crispy chicken in bite size pieces and placing them into the pasta. “Okayyyy, I see you, big money. I am so proud of you, baby. Like you started from doing hair in your home to having your own shop. You didn’t let anything or anyone stop you. Not only that but you have that handsome young man, N’Jadaka too. How are y’all speaking of", asked her mother, smiling and knowing what surprise awaited her. Y/N smiled as she said “we are great, actually. He has been busy since the center opened and all but he is just… great.” Tasha turned to see her daughter looking at the ground in deep thought and walked over to her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, momma.” “Y/N/N, baby, something is wrong. I know you better than anyone else in the entire world. Are you sure you and N’Jadaka are okay?” Tasha turned the pasta pot on a low boil and grabbed her daughter’s arm, interlocking with hers, as they walked to the front porch; they sat side by side on the bench. “Alright, tell me the truth. What’s wrong, best friend?” Y/N looked at her mother as she waited, looking into her eyes back; she sighed and began. “I just, I feel like something bad is going to happen. The shop is a success, my relationship is amazing, pa is healing, CJ is heading to college soon. I just-I just feel like something bad is going to happen soon.” “Now, why would you put that in the universe, baby? You have been through so much before N’Jadaka came into your life. Yes, you were happy before but since you met him, I can tell that y’all make each other better. He just brings out even more confidence than before. He makes you happy. When you were with Rodney…”. Tasha paused and took a deep breath as she remembered all the pain her baby girl dealt with before finishing. “Baby, when you were with Rodney, he absolutely drained you. You didn’t eat. You didn't sleep. You were attached to him in the worst way and it took for him to cheat on you and put his hands on you to see that you needed to leave him. But with N’Jadaka, you are your best self and , baby, we love that for you.” Y/N looked away, thinking of her mother’s words, slowly smiling to herself. “He is great, huh?”

“Sure is. And I can tell that y’all have a bright future ahead. Maybe, one day, if God is willing, y’all will have your own family. Maybe, a little girl and a little boy will be running around this yard one day. A nice intimate wedding, a nice big house like you always wanted. And you know, I can see you and that young man, old and gray talking to your grandbabies about how y’all met and fell in love.” Y/N looked over at her mother who smiled at her and she began to mirror it with her nose scrunched up like hers. Y/N giggled with her momma as she wrapped her arm around her and said “thank you, mommy.” “You are very welcome, baby. Now, let’s get back in befo-.” “TASHA, WHERE MY DAMN FOOD AT WOMAN?!”, yelled out Tommy making Y/N chuckled as her mother rolled her eyes once they stood up and entered the home again. ~

N’Jadaka was standing in front of the history classroom of the center wearing his golden frame glasses, navy blue slacks, white collared button down with the sleeves rolled up and black dress shoes. His locs were freshly twisted and braided backwards to stay out of his face. “Alright, kings and queens. Today, we will be discussing the truth about the African American bloodline. Now, if y’all can turn to chapter 4, page 36, you will see that today’s topic will be the truth of black royalty.” He leaned his buttocks against the desk and turned to the page he had bookmarked with a red tab. “Alright, in the 18th and 19th centuries, Europe had several black and mixed race people as royalty. The first one who we will be discussing is Queen Charlotte. Now, with features reputed to be conspicuously African by her contemporaries, it is no wonder that the Black community, both in the U.S. and-.” “Mr. Stevens, my daddy said there ain’t no such thing as black royalty”, said a ten year old child in the class, making the others look at her then at him, anticipating the answer. Erik looked at the young lady and took a deep breath before asking “Miss Zasha, what do I do for a living?”

“You’re our teacher.”

“And what does your ‘daddy’ do for a living, Miss Zasha?”

“He a mechanic.”

Erik slowly blinked at her answer with a tight mouth that made some of the children laugh. His eyes stayed on the young lady until he went back to the book, continuing to read. Thirty minutes had passed and the bell rang for the lunch period to begin; his class was dismissed and he began to prepare for lunch himself until he heard a knock on the door. Erik turned to see Sheila at the door, smiling big at her brother. “What’s good, sis”, he said, placing his hands in his pockets and leaning as he watched her enter; she wore a rainbow bodycon dress, cropped jean jacket with black and white vans. “Oh, everything is swell.” Erik looked at his long time friend with a suspicious brow and said “what are you finna ask me, Sheila?” “Nothing, jackass. Why are you asking me that?” “Lemme guess. Bro opened his big mouth about the surprise trip I have planned.” Sheila clutched her imaginary pearls as she gasped loudly, making Erik chuckle. “A surprise trip?! Why, he never told me anything about that! Oh, Jerald. Why have you forsaken me”, said the dramatic woman as she held her heart and placed her other hand on her forehead, palm facing the sky. “Quit the act, Sheila. Y’all make me sick.” Sheila rolled her eyes playfully before sitting at the desk in front of him. “So, you are finally popping the question, huh? When is the trip?”

“Shit, next week but they I been working I'm chilling before the trip. I got a whole thing planned for Friday night though. Gonna take her to the beach since it’s getting warm as fuck again. I got some folks to set up a whole outdoor dining thing over there and I ordered food from our first anniversary spot. I got her favorite bakery spot to make her cake, that place called Sweets or something like that by the shop. Then I show her a fake text that shows our ‘plane tickets’. I had to convince the Dora Milaje to dress like a whole fuckin’ aircraft crew and B’s boys, too. Then, BOOM the big muthafuckin’ reveal. She will come back as my fiance and maybe even the mother of my children.” N’Jadaka sat so proud of his plans that he didn’t even notice his sister staring at him with glee. “You good, sis”, he asked and she sat with her chin resting on her hands. 

“You are so happy. And I love y’all so much.”

“C’mon, Sheila.” She stood from her seat as she said “I’m serious, JD. After the last bitch, you said you would swear off women and rather die a virgin. You gave up the dream of marriage, and babies, and having the family you always wanted. Like your parents and uncle wanted for you. Then, you got sprung on Y/N thick ass.” N’Jadaka looked at her, chuckling away as she took a place next to him. Sheila continued as she looked at him. “JD, I am so happy that you found your sunshine on your cloudy days.” N’Jadaka looked over at his female friend, wrapped his arm softly around her neck and kissed her head. “Thanks, sis. I appreciate y’all. But you know, Y/N might be on to me.”“Eh, women know when something is up. But no worries. Her family and your people ain’t spilling shit.”

They gave one another dap before heading out to get some food finally and talk more about the plans. ~

The day was finally over and Y/N was about to close out shop. Her team left one by one after cleaning their stations and helping tidy up the place before they all left. Y/N locked the doors behind each one before heading to the back, about to finish the lock up process. She placed all the money from the register in the money counter and started recording the amount down to the cent, $11,845.28 was made for the night. She placed the amount in the money bags and into her lock box N’Jadaka gifted her since her old one was worn and torn. Y/N placed it into her purse before grabbing her keys along with her phone before turning off her office light. She began to make her way to the door when he noticed him standing there. He wore all black to hide in the dark but she could see his eyes piercing through the glass. Rodney stood there watching her move even in the dimly lit room. Her first thought was how she would get to her even though he leaned against the hood. Y/N thought of only one thing she could do. She headed back to her office, using the switch to turn the light on after dialing the number and talking to the person on the other side. Y/N locked the door behind her and sat at her desk waiting for her rescue to arrive. 

It felt as if she waited hours as her eyes got slightly heavy when all of a sudden, she heard footsteps inching closer to her office door. She stood from her desk slowly, eyes on the door and worry on her face as she waited quietly. Before she knew it, she heard knocking on the door which came off loud with her drowsiness kicking in. Her heart started to beat through her breasts just thinking about that man attacking her again like in the past; her soul was terrified to say the least. “Baby girl, it’s me, Daka. Open the door, baby”; she heard the voice she waited for, calming her rattled nerves. N’Jadaka had come to the rescue… or so she thought. When she sprinted to open the door, Rodney stood there with a devilish grin. He reached for her neck, pressing down hard and that’s when it happened…

Y/N had sprung up swinging her arms but felt something pull her in. She looked up to meet eyes with her man who looked down at her while rubbing her back. “You okay, princess”, his voice calmed her as he placed kisses on her head. “Hey, baby.” “Hey, baby. You good in here? I tried callin’ to let you know I was in the lot but I guess you was knocked out.” Y/N placed her head into his chest and began to heavily sniff his cologne which made him erupt with laughter. “Been a long day huh?” She mumbled against his chest but he lifted her head to look at him. “I didn’t catch any of that, princess. What you say?” “Yes, the longest.” “Awe, well. I have dinner ready at home waiting for us. Then I will give you a nice bubble bath and a deep tissue massage-” “And dick”, Y/N said in a sweet, innocent yet excited tone, looking up at him with big eyes. Erik chuckled and said “yes, dick too. Now, c’mon, baby.” They made their way to the parking lot where they hopped in separate cars, him following behind.

~ The next morning at exactly 6 am, N’Jadaka sat on the island looking at his children's stats from his history class. He had on his gold rimmed glasses, a basic white tee and jeans as he held his coffee with one hand. Y/N was making breakfast for the pair wearing his tee and nothing underneath. N’Jadaka watched her move around the kitchen, smiling in between glances of the children’s work and his future wife. He can only imagine their wedding day, her in a cream toned gown with gold accents created by the best seamstress in all of Wakanda; her beauty would be a wonderful addition to the view around them. He wondered how their kids would look, how they would act. Yes, Y/N may not be able to have children but with the best healthcare in his home country, it would be 200% possible, studies show.

Y/N placed his plate of four egg whites, four slices of French toast, bacon and a bowl of brown sugar oatmeal as she kissed his forehead and refreshed his coffee. “I made our lunch for today. Just the dinner from last night so we can get rid of it easier. And, of course, I put some of the green tea and a jug of your alkaline water with your tumbler.” She grabbed her bowl of oatmeal and small plate of toast, bacon and eggs and indulged  before the busy day ahead. She was reading through the emails on her phone when she felt kisses on her free hand; she turned to look at N’Jadaka, fully immersed in showing her love. Y/N won’t lie but she was a bit suspicious of him being overly affectionate with her lately; she of course shrugged it off as she watched him. She leaned into his hand that held her wrist and shared her own kisses, making him smile and look at her, with so much love in their eyes.

“Why are you so lovey dovey this morning, mister”, Y/N asked but she only received kisses between the words he spoke. “Because” kiss. “I” kiss. “Have” kiss. “Someone” kiss. “Who” kiss. “Loves” kiss. “Me” kiss. His eyes met her and she can tell by the look on his face. “Daka, what are hidin’?” N’Jadaka looked into her face and made a deep sigh. “Nothing, baby girl. Why I gotta be hiding something, Y/N/N.” Y/N looked into his face trying to read it until she heard “baby, you can’t pull a me on me. I’m stone compared to your bubble.” He gently placed her hand down and continued to eat as she did the same, in comfortable silence and leaving her in her thoughts.

An hour passed when N’Jadaka was sitting on the couch looking at the plans for the following night wearing his chosen work attire; it would be one of the biggest nights in his life. He went through the list to check if everything was confirmed. Yellow, white and pink roses, check. Dinner ordered from The District,check. The reservation to close the whole beach just for the dinner, expensive but check. And everything ready for the proposal back home, a  HUGE check. He leaned back looking at the time on his phone, 7:25 AM. He thanked Bast that the traffic from the house to the center was nonexistent especially with how he drove. He dug in his pocket to retrieve the ring box that contained the engagement ring. N’Jadaka leaned over, elbows on knees and opened the box which lit up around the ring, showing every detail of the beautiful piece of jewelry that would change things forever. “She gonna love this shit.”

“Daka, have you seen my chain”; Daka heard his lady and could also feel how close she was near so he quickly placed the ring back into his pocket and closed his laptop. Y/N walked over to the couch where he sat in her sunny yellow flare bottom pants, white tank top, high top all white converse and hair in a low bun with her goddess braids; looked around and saw the necklace resting on the coffee table. She grabbed it and as she placed it on, she noticed her man’s body language. “Daka, what’s wrong?” “Hm? What you mean, baby?” Y/N looked over at her man even more whose legs were extra folded. and just shook her head to herself saying “nothing, Daka. You think you can still pick me up tonight after work? I don’t want to be caught by myself when that nigga pops up again.” N’Jadaka nodded, saying, “Of course, baby. I got you. Shit, I’ll bring my glock too just in case.” Y/N laughed as she grabbed her bag and he stood, placing a kiss to her lips before they headed out but he forgot one important thing.

It was around three pm at the shop as Y/N sat in her own chair, enjoying her break, hearing the chatter in her salon, making her smile. “All I’m saying is, I want a nigga with a curve. That muthafucka being thick means nothing. It’s that length and curve that matters, okaayyyyy!!!”; the woman all hollered and laughed through the shop. “Y/N doll, what about you? Does size matter?” All the girls laughed as Y/N was placed in the hot seat but little did they know, she could take the heat. “Psh, please. I got a man with all three. I’m good over here”; all the girls cheered, laughed and high five each other.

The bell of the shop door rang but before Y/N welcomed them in, Y/N noticed the man. It was Rodney who stood there, eyes trained on her face and thanked the women who did welcome him in. He wore a black V-neck, tan cargos, and gray New Balance 570s with his hair under a durag. “Hey there. Welcome in, I’m Stacie. Do you have an appointment” asked the receptionist at the front door. Rodney leaned in with a smile and replied. “Yes, ma’am. Under Tyler Calvin.”

“Tyler. Tyler?” Her fingers typing in each letter until his name popped up. “Ah, I see it here. And even better news, you have it with our very own Y/N Y/L/N”, Stacie said before eagerly passing him a water and leading him to Y/N who stood, heart beating through her chest and palms feeling hot and sweaty. The couple reached her section and Stacie said “Miss Y/L/N, your 3:30 is here early”; she skipped back to her spot as the pair stood off. Y/N knew that he knew she hated to have altercations publicly which gave him an excuse to be manipulative and repulsive. “Hello, Miss Y/L/N. I’m Tyler”; she stood in complete silence.

~ “Alright, class. Don’t forget I have to meet your parents tomorrow morning before I go on my break.” The class awed and sounded saddened as N’Jadaka stood in front with arms folded. He loved the kids and they loved him even more and it made him sad just thinking he would be gone for a while but knew once he came back and told them he was engaged, they would be super excited. “I know I know but I’ll be back before you know it. Now, class is dismissed. If you are staying behind with the after hours program, you can meet your assigned teacher in the eating hall. I’ll catch you tomorrow”; the class began to all say their goodbyes as they ran out but that’s when he noticed Miss Zasha was still in her seat. “Miss Zasha, is your pops running late again?”

“No, my auntie Shay Shay is picking me up. She runn-” “She is”, N’Jadaka said, correcting with a brow raised and hands behind his back. Zasha looked up at him and said “she is running late.” N’Jadaka nodded as he began to clean up and prepare to head out himself. He sent a quick text to the ones he missed from Shuri, his boys, Sheila and of course, his future wife; the prince couldn’t wait for tomorrow night. He knew that she would be a beautiful wife. Just the thought of her reaction to the island view of Wakanda made him smile to himself as he heard the sound of heels clicking in the hall. “TT Shay Shay”, Zasha exclaimed with excitement, hopping from her seat. But when N'Jadaka turned with his briefcase-like bag in hand, he could feel his blood boil once he saw the mysterious woman; it was Kesha, wearing a burgundy skirt suit combo with cheetah print heels and her hair cut into a bob. N’Jadaka met eyes with Kesha which made her stand straight, walking over to him. “Well, well, well. Long time no see, Mr. Udaku.” Kesha looked back to her niece and signaled her head to the playground with her friends. “My brother told me that he was scheduled to talk about Zasha and how she be in class.” “I’m meeting parents tomorrow, Kesha.” N’Jadaka was trying to dismiss her but she didn’t budge. “Daka-”. “Mr. Udaku.” N’Jadaka glared at her as he stood at his desk. She held her hands in the air then in front of her, folded. “Mr. Udaku, he scheduled it today since he is busy today and tomorrow. I’m just tryna help him out.” N’Jadaka heavily sighed as they stood looking at one another. ~

Back at the shop, Y/N had a cape around Rodney’s neck tightly before she placed him in front of the hair washing bowl. Rodney tried to look in her eyes but she wasn’t falling for the trap; she looked ahead, paying him no mind and said “lean back into the bowl, please.” He deeply chuckled before he followed the order but not without checking her body out which she noticed and placed a towel over his eyes only; Rodney took the towel off his eyes as she began washing his coarse hair. No conversation between the two which made things even more tense. 

“You smell nice, I don’t remember that scent.” Y/N looked down at his face but saw that his eyes were closed while he enjoyed her fingers in his hair. She began to massage deeper into his scalp and noticed something that made her chuckle which made him ask “what’s funny?”

“Your thinning hair. Guess ya new girl can’t do hair, huh?” Rodney sighed while easing more into the chair. “I ain’t got a girl no more.” Y/N looked away still washing before he said “shorty was making my hair fall out. That’s why I’m here, so you can help me out.”“And what makes you think I would help you, Rodney?”“Because I’m in this chair right now and I know you hate makin’ a scene, shorty.” Y/N stood there, knowing it was true which made her stand silent. Rodney sighed and said “nah, but me and Ash kept on fightin’. I’m gettin’ too old for that high school shit, no cap”, no response from Y/N. “Besides, she kept talkin’ about ya man”, this caught her attention. “What did she say?”

“I knew that would get you speakin’, shorty?” She tugged his hair harshly making him wince. “OK, OK. He was tryna compare me to him. She wanted me to do everything he did besides being the whole ass virgin shit. The bitch even tried to lock my shit.”

“And that’s why you baldin’.”

“Shit and her fucking naggin’ the fuck outta me too. Had me on this fucking all protein, no carb diet tryna bulk me up and everythin’. That shit was fa sho depressin’.” Y/N nodded her head as he spoke to her about everything and thought about how her Daka could be with someone that controlling. “Man, I had to dump her because fuck all dat shit. She tried to do that instant loc bullshit on my dome and had me all fucked up. I had to call Ma Dukes to help comb that shit out. Took half my hair with it.”

“Yeah, I know you got a fucked up head inside and out”, she said thinking he would rebuttal something mean and nasty but instead she heard “yeah, yeah I know”; she looked in his face and then away as she continued to work on his scalp.  ~

N’Jadaka opened up his laptop to find his notes on Zasha as Kesha watched his fingers move against the keyboard, both seated on opposite sides of his desk. “Alright, Zasha Lewis. Zasha is a bright kid like the others but she can be lazy and always wants the last word. She always talks over others saying the wrong answer over their right answer.” Kesha looked into his face as she read, closed her eyes and opened them again as she said “I’m happy for you.” N’Jadaka looked up from his laptop, with a scrunched confused look, then to Kesha’s face who looked at him with a soft, sincere look. He took off his glasses and looked at her with a raised brow and intimidating face. “Excuse me?” “I am very proud of you and Y/N.” “Kesha, we are here to talk about your-” “Lemme finish. Please,” Kesha pleaded, making N’Jadaka pull out his phone. “What are you”-. Her question was caught off once he put his strong finger in the air to silence her. He placed the phone down and pressed start on the three minute timer. “You can talk again.” She took a deep breath before saying. “I am very happy for you and my best-”. “Ex.”

“Ex best friend. Between the shop, the center and your relationship it makes me feel like black love is still alive. But I’m very happy that Y/N finally has someone like you. After her last, she didn’t want anything to do with men again. Like it was really bad. She cried a lot and I know her folks hate seeing. I just know that y’all are really happy and-.” *RING. RING. RING* The sound of N’Jadaka’s phone went off and his eyes fell on the screen, tapping it to stop the noise and he stood fixing his trousers; he began to pack his things, placed his glasses into its case and said “let Zasha’s father know I will be sending him notes on this meeting. Be easy”;  with that, he made his exit as the custodian walked in to clean and lock up for N’Jadaka, leaving Kesha behind in her thoughts and texting on her phone.

Back at the shop, the beauticians and staff all talked while working on their clients when the nail stylist asked “so, Miss Boss Lady, when you think Mr. N’Jadaka gonna pop that question, hm?” Everyone whispered and asked the question again, commenting. “Yeah, Miss Y/N. He seems so amazing. Are we all invited once y’all tie the knot”, asked an excited Stacie from the wash bowl. Y/N was in the process working some oil through Rodney’s hair. “Not y’all being nosey.” “Not nosey. I just love that he loves you. Check it out. He literally sends you flowers every Wednesday at noon on the dot. Because of him, I do that for my lady now too. Expensive as shit but worth it, y’know”, said the male barber. “And don’t forget, he sends us all lunch every Friday”, said the nail stylist beside him. “Oh and plus, he comes by to sit with you every weekend to keep you company in the shop. If that isn’t a future husband then I don’t know what is, girl”, said one of the Transwomen beauticians. Y/N smiled, rolling her eyes as Rodney listened to all the sweet things N’Jadaka had done for his ex-girl and pulling out his phone to type. “Relax, relax. Why does everyone want me to get married all of a sudden”, Y/N asked as she giggled. 

“I HAD A DREAM ABOUT FOUR FISH LAST NIGHT!”, yelled out old sweet Miss Jackson from under the hairdryer; the group laughed as Y/N shook her head. Stacie began to help one of the patrons into a seat under another hair dryer before she grabbed the broom and began to sweep around the beauticians and barbers. “Miss Y/N. Do you wanna marry N’Jadaka?” The shop became quiet except for the music and TV being played in the background. Y/N began to have the thought of N’Jadaka. From her mother mentioning Daka proposing to her, to him becoming suspicious and secretive, to now the shop talking about it, she was starting to think that this could be a sign. Daka was once a stranger who helped her when a creepy man approached her to, now, the love of her life; in that moment she realized that she couldn’t see herself without N’Jadaka Udaku-Stevens. “Yeah, I do.” Everyone looked over at her, including Rodney who looked into the mirror in front of them. Stacie grinned once she stopped sweeping and said “you do, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Well, yeah. I feel like I’m at that point in my life where I want my forever partner and besides, I really can’t imagine myself without him. But I won’t lie, it scares me a little. I can’t describe it.” Miss Sawyer sat in the chair beside her getting her hot oil treatment set in as she smiled to herself. “I was in the same boat. You know young lady, back in my day, my daddy had owned a club with some white man I grew up with and I had to marry his god awful son.” Y/N looked over at her with concern in her eyes and said “Miss Sawyer, you did? You never told me that.” “Yeah, sure I did. I wasn’t happy, baby doll. I cried so many days and nights thinking of how I could be married off to a man, let alone a white one who truly did not love me.”  The shop nodded, taking in her words before she spoke again. “Then I caught him with another woman on his lap, literally a week after he had proposed to me. What even made it worse is that I was getting sexually harassed at where all this happened”; a mixture of gasps, shock and disgust.  “But all of a sudden, the bartender who worked for my poppa and his partner stepped in and when I tell you, the way I knew he would protect me from even a bear had me hot and unbothered”; the group including Y/N laughed. “But I tell you something. I’m not tryna talk ya ear off, baby doll, or none of y’all as a matter of fact. But I just wanna let you know that I went through the same thing you did, honey. I was scared to fall in love with my husband now but he convinced me with his actions that he was meant to be my life partner. The way he got rid of that man. Protecting me. Loving me. And if I could go back in time and do it all over again, I would.” Y/N stood there still working on Rodney’s head on autopilot and deep in her thoughts. She thought about Miss Sawyers’ words but she wasn’t the only one; Rodney sat looking at his ex through the mirror with a softened look. He took a deep breath and began typing against his phone, hoping his partner in crime got the message before it was too late. ~

Across town, Kesha sat in her car, houses down looking through her rearview mirror waiting for the target to arrive at the house. Her phone began vibrating in the cup holder before she picked it up and read the message, scoffing at the words, replying and threw the phone back in her purse. That’s when she saw the man, pulling into the driveway and parking to relax before planning the date night. He hopped out and made his way to the passenger side, grabbing a huge bouquet of white roses and his briefcase; he opened the door, unlocking with his key and stepping in. “Alright, babe closes the shop at like 8 today so I got like a few hours to spare and set up”, N’Jadaka said, as he placed the flowers on the end table by the front door. He kicked his dress shoes off, held them in his hands and made his way to the room to change and grab the spare clothes he always had at Y/N’s place. Once he was done with his shower, took a nap and relaxed, he realized that it was now four pm; he had to start getting ready for Y/N.

Back at the shop, Y/N had finished with Rodney’s hair. “Alright, all done. You need to use this sample everyday until it’s all gone, once in the morning when you wake up and once right before bed”. She took off his cape and was about to head to her office to decompress but felt something grab her wrist softly.  Y/N looked at him and could tell he wanted to say something but instead took a deep breath and placed something in her hand before saying “thank you. Take care of ya self, shawty.” With that, he walked out to his car and drove out the lot. When she looked in her hand, she noticed that he had placed five hundred dollars including tip money; she went ahead to her office to place the money away in her safe.

Back at the house, N’Jadaka tipped and thanked the delivery man and began to place the white wine in the fridge. “Aight, Sweets got the delivery, the restaurant got the plan and everything is set. I got my baby’s favorites and everything. Bast, please let this go smoothly.” N’Jadaka began to set things up by using some rose petals he bought from the florist earlier. He scattered them from the front door, around the dinner table and leading to the bedroom around her bed. He even began to pack all her things into new luggage cases he got back home but not before holding up the cream colored dress he planned for her to wear for the dinner night. Silk with a lace pattern and slits on both thighs of the gown. He began to play their song, setting the mood for the perfect night and humming to the lyrics. N’Jadaka knew her heart would absolutely melt when she saw everything set up the way it was. He ran into the kitchen to put ice into a metal bowl to place the white wine and placed it on the table, right in the middle. He had to make sure she loved it so she could say yes to the trip and yes to the ring.  As he placed the luggage into her closet for even more of a surprise, he began to hear the door open and shut along with the sound of heels clicking. At first, he thought it was his woman but that’s when he realized Y/N didn’t wear heels so it had to be Leslie. “What’s good, Leslie? Y/N is at the shop-.” His statement was cut short when he noticed that it wasn’t his friend at all. It was Kesha dressed in all cheetah print lingerie and matching heels under her robe. “Heyyy, Daka.” ~

“Hey, y’all”, cheered Leslie peeking half her body into the door; everyone greeted her as she walked in heading to Y/N who was in her seat. “Hey, best friend.” Y/N said her hello, hugged her and they made their way into her office. Leslie sat in front of her best friend’s table trying to get a good look at her left hand but saw no ring; she kissed her teeth so loudly at the sight that it made Y/N turn around. “Girl, you good?” Leslie had to think of something and fast. “Oh girl, nothing, just my damn job. I’m finna quit that muthafucka.”“Please, whore. You say that every fuckin’ time you work” Y/N said with a giggle. Leslie made a mocking face, making fun of her friend before saying “anyways, whore. Did you bring my bag”; that’s when she remembered it was on her kitchen counter. “Damn, I knew I forgot something. We can head to the house right now and grab it.”

“Girl, it can wait”, Leslie laughed but Y/N was already up with her bag. “No, no. Girl, we can head out and grab it now. I gotta tell you who the fuck my last client was”; they hopped in Leslie’s car and made their way back to the house. “So, girl tell me who my last client was”, Y/N asked Leslie as her friend kept her eyes on the road. “You better not say Kesha. Or I swea fuh GAWD.”“Rodney”; this made Leslie swerved resulting in the honks around them before she drove straight again. “RODNEY’S PUNK ASS”, Leslie said, digustingly and annoyed. “Yep, his ass used a fake name.”“He ain’t try nothing, did he? I needed a good ass reason to use my new gun.”“Good God, Leslie. No”; the light changed to green. “So, what happened?” Y/N chuckled to herself and said “you remember that bitch we fucked up at the club?” Leslie snickered out loud and said “what he got her pregnant?” “Nope, they broke up.”

“What the fuck that gotta do with you, girl?” Y/N side eyed her  before saying “the nigga is balding.”

“Chile, I been knew that. His daddy bald headed, his momma baldheaded, HELL his old ass grandma bald headed”. Y/N laughed before she said “but our girl was at the shop though.” “Miss Sawyer?!” “Mhm, sure was. She was of course preaching about love and what not.” “She always preaching, best but you gotta think, Mama Sawyer seen and dealt with some shit. Remember I was scared to have baby boy? Miss Sawyer told me I would be just fine and she would pray for us all and look what happened? He running around from diaper changes and shit.” The girls laughed until Y/N said “she mentioned marriage. Have you notice JD acting weird?” Leslie looked over at Y/N then back to the road “what you mean?”

“Like, he might propose.” Leslie deep down wanted to smile and scream YES but she didn’t want to ruin in surprise whatever they may be. “Hm, I ain’t sure. Not gonna lie. I only be around him when you around, boo.”“So, he hasn’t said anythin’ to y’all?”“Nope, nothing boo”; they soon made their way around the corner of her neighborhood and before she began to say “I’m not sure. There are just signs lik-” but stopped when she saw N’Jadaka’s car in the driveway. “I ain’t know babe was here. He texts me when he usually here.” Leslie only smiled when her friend wasn’t paying her any mind. She could only thing “EEEEEKKKKK, I get to see my homegirl getting proposed to.” Y/N stepped out, leaving her purse in the backseat, and placing feet on the sidewalk while Leslie followed behind quickly, eager; that’s when Leslie noticed something down the street. A familiar car, lashes on the headlights, bedazzled license plate and it looked like if the dashboard was covered in some type of polka dot. No. Nah. It was cheetah print… When the ladies approached closer, they could hear music playing from the home. “His playing our song.” Leslie looked at her friend who slowly smiled before using her keys to unlock the door. They spotted the rose petals around but also seen a white wine bottle open on the glass table, one with maroon lipstick smeared on it. Y/N went over to the table to get a closer look but Leslie could hear something from the bedroom. 

“Y/N”, Leslie said, looking at the bedroom door and feeling her body heat up. Y/N walked behind her as she could hear the voices over each other. Leslie could hear her friend breathing heavily, showing she was trying to stay calm but Leslie knew her friend way too well; Y/N was about to put her hands on someone and Leslie would help her do so. As soon as she opened the door, N’Jadaka was on the other side, holding a half-naked Kesha by her arm, and said “Now, get the fuck out before”...

N’Jadaka and Y/N met eye to eye as he finished. “Baby is here.”

WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPEN?! Guess y'all will have to find out NEXT WEEK!!!!!! CUE THE EVIL LAUGHSSSS

-SWEET BABIES-

@muse-of-mbaku

@im5ftbutmythroat66

@chaneajoyyy

@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

@doux-ciel

@unicornluvin8765

@vikkidc

@wakandantings

@thadelightfulone

@mzamethystp

@simbiann

@tropicalsun10

@babydoll756

@notoriouslynay

@vminax

@quinsly

@pinkdemolition

@quietstorm-73

@chaoticcashfancroissant

@bugngiz

@chocolatedippedinhoney

@yafavcocoa

@lostgalaxies

@mbakuwife

@youreadthatright

@babygotl01292003

@acceptyourselfloveyourself

@madamslayyy

@yoyolovesbucky

@theogbadbitch

@wakanda-inspired

@bitchacho25

@toniilaney

@wakandascrystal

@girlsneedlovingfanfics

@raysunshine78

@melodyofmbaku

@hearteyes-for-killmonger

@silenceisplatinum

@thickemadame

@shookmcgookqueen

@heykillmongerluhme

@fonville-designs

@cutewylie​

@allhailqueennel​

@10bsatatime

@nickidub718​

@lildashofmelanin

@allhailqueennel

@amirra88

@hakunalive4eva

@ghostfacekill-monger

@thickemadame

@ladymac82

~ @muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife @youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme @fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger

[yoonjikooka]

#20. I still have memories of you (Jennie)

Capa teste, disponível para futura doação.

design por @yoonjikooka

Para mandar sugestões, clique aqui

[jinlias]

tally - rosé

— songwriter!, musician! rosé, paparazzi

i say fuck it when i feel it, cuz no one’s keeping tally i do what i want with who i like

rosé was exhausted, she hates this cycle. of sneaking around and hiding under dark clothes when you’re in public, of hiding her lockscreen and the polaroid on her phone case from appearing on photos or videos, she hated being unable to talk about you to everyone, she hated all of this, loathed it.

but she always kept you around, even if you had to ride with crew most of the time, for when she was away from you too long she would start to hear her own heartbeat more than she’d like. you were peace to her. rosé was exhausted, but mostly, she was furious.

and i ain’t gon conceal it, while you talking all that shit, i’ll be getting mine

it was a thing of time, that everyone started noticing the same feminine silhouette around her even when none of her crew was. fans kept up with her management team, everyone even knew her re-ocurring friend group, they just couldn’t pinpoint where u fell, yet, you were always there.

don’t apologize for my behavior, if you’re offended i don’t care.

she never fit in the usual korean mold, the delicate, educated and always quiet women she shared the industry with because they valued their dream career more than their own freedom. controversy is what made her stand out, it’s how she blew up, it’s expected no one was too surprised when she started a soft launch of your relationship. pictures of the two bowls of food, tangled hands, two shadows on a crosswalk, small, private, intimate photos like these easily gave away it was not just one of her friends.

sometimes i like to go play dirty, just like all of the fuckboys do, that’s my choice and there’s no one i’m hurting, when that’s not girly.

but rosé has always been open about her private life, she’s never hid behind dark clothes or hats, at least not until you. she was a weekly topic on social media, everyone took out the time to discuss her possible hook ups, like that was of important matter to anyone else.

that’s why everyone else was so observant now, because all of the sudden she stopped running out of models’ apartments at three am with tousled hair. instead, she was seen hiding behind her clothes and around a becoming familiar silhouette at restaurants, movie theaters, parks, at houses and parties of families who no one’s ever seen before, which was the ideal, but people would just not stop watching her. and you.

everybody tells me to play nice, everybody judge but looking twice, but my body don’t belong to none of them though, and i’m not going to change cuz you say so.

she was tired of playing nice, of laughing it off when men asked her about her love life, when the woman interviewer asked about any special boys in her life. she was tired of everyone assuming and deciding which one of her friends she was dating today. why couldn’t they see she loved you? why couldn’t they just move on? she wasn’t theirs to play around with, she just wanted to do what she loved, surrounded by people she loved. surrounded by you.

warned me to make the rules, or play the fool, it ain't that hard to choose

“rosie, this could make or break your career” you really wish it wasn’t this hard, you wish you could just love each other and live contently. without anyone else interfering.

“i don’t give a fuck anymore. i need you to do the same” she’s cried, she’s given up. but she’s angry, she wants this over. she wants you two to be free. “will you walk the red carpet with me? please” she asks again, begs, her eyes are telling you all of the above. how she can’t take this anymore, if she has to pretend she doesn’t know you for one more night, she might just explode.

rosé can’t ever explain to you the amount of bliss she felt when you agreed, she had been given an ultimatum since the beginning, play the fool or break the rules. play the fool because it could save her career, break the rules because it could save her. she’s finally brave enough to choose for you. and she chooses to be immensely happy, publicly

i say fuck it when i feel it. cuz no one’s keeping tally i do what i want with who i like.

that night, hell broke loose. so did the internet, the photo of her kissing you at the red carpet had millions of fans publicly giving up on her, but so many more expressing their gratitude and pride for her. regardless she couldn’t care less about the numbers, the money, all she cared about was you, her, your future together, and how it was finally possible.

[theangrypomeranian]

New oneshot for this rare pair. Hi.

Jimmy Jr./Will

Trigger warning for Pesto Sr. being a homophobic asshole

[bluemantics]

Keith felt bruises behind his eyes as he stared up at the hologram. No matter how many times he ran the battle simulation, BOOM. He watched for the 100th time as the planet that Voltron was simulated to defend exploded in fiery death-ray style.

The black paladin rubbed at his face and sighed.

“End simulation.”

Keith whipped around at the surprise voice, spotting Lance entering the dimly lit room, blue holographic light shining across his freckled skin.

“What was that for?” Keith huffed. He knew he wasn’t fooling Lance with the whole “respect your leader” act, that his voice was too weary.

“You’re going to kill yourself over this stupid sim,” Lance told him, forcing a warm cup into Keith’s hands. He turned toward the blue light, reaching a hand up and gently over the planet debris, still frozen in time. With a flick of his wrist, Lance dispelled the image.

“I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with our formations,” Keith started as the light changed to a glowing yellow. He took a sip of the cup. It was warm and sweet, not quite tea, but likely one of Hunk’s comforting creations. Still, it couldn’t settle the writhing mess in his ribs.

“Why don’t you let Allura or Pidge help? Or… me?” Lance asked. “I’m your right hand guy for a reason.” Keith dismissively waved a hand through the air, ignoring Lance’s look of offense.

“I have to do this on my own, Lance,” he told him sharply. “I’m the black paladin. Shiro did this a million times. Sure, sometimes with Allura, but he also did it alone.” Keith’s hands hovered over the buttons, but Lance stepped in front of them, forcing Keith to take a step back.

“Hey. You don’t have anything to prove here,” Lance said, tone full of caution. “You’re not Shiro, Keith, you can have a different strategy. Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean you have to fill any hole he left behind.” Keith felt something burn inside him and he clenched his fists.

“I’m not trying to be Shiro, okay? I know I won’t live up to that.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know—“

“I just have to do this without distractions. I’m the fucking leader, now. You just have to trust my decisions here.” Keith looked Lance in the eye with a challenge. He knew he was too tired for this, but he didn’t back down even as Lance straightened to his full height and jabbed a finger at him.

“Fuck you,” Lance hissed. “I’m your second. I get to challenge you, talk shit through with you, and tell you when I think you’re acting like an ass. Breaking news, Keith! This is peak asshole behavior.” Keith rolled his eyes.

“You aren’t needed here, Lance, and if you can’t let go of your insecurity for the sake of the team and let me figure this out, then this will be on you.” He gestured to the empty air where the battle sim had been, anger clouding his words.

Lance paused. He took a step back, his legs hitting the console table.

“You’re right, you’re not like Shiro,” he responded, voice cold, eyes sparking with something hidden. “Shiro wouldn’t dismiss me like this, especially if he knew I was right.” With that, he shoved past Keith and stormed back out of the room.

“Computer off.”

Bright yellow light faded to a dim, barely lit red, as if to taunt him.

[bp-zb1fics]

doll~

pairing: leejeong x reader

pronouns: none used

genre: heavily suggestive themes, smut

wc: 736

summary: jeonghyeon really needs more self control (lmao no he doesn't)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!!!

tw/tags: plot where? flirting, implied nudity, kisses, making out, lap sitting, hair pulling, name calling (doll), fingering, riding, choking, pre-negotiated safeword/signal, leejeongs a lil wild but v soft for u

a/n for 🐺 anon ty for sharing the dream that inspired this short, spicy and spontaneous fic and for @yunacoeur bc our little leejeong obsessed squad won’t be complete without your hype energy ily both 💜 enjoy this fic and the lil mood board I made to destroy our sanity. I hope you dream of him tonight!

You’re in bed when he gets home.

It’s late. He’s missed you. You’re all sleepy and soft and fuzzy around the edges, whining as the light from the hallway filters in when he opens the door. 

“Leejeong-yah!” God, he hates it when you call him that. (He really doesn’t)

“I’m home.” He announces. 

“Yeah, no shit.” You groan, sitting up, running a hand through your mussed up hair.

His response promptly goes flying out the window along with the rest of his sanity. 

You’re wearing his shirt. And what looks like absolutely nothing else. Jeonghyeon takes a deep breath. He needs to control himself. Really, if he lost his shit everytime you did something like this, he’d literally have a heart attack.

Still his eyes wander down to the sliver of skin between the hem of his shirt and the sheets. You shift a little as he stays quiet. Oh, you’re definitely not wearing anything else.

“Jeonghyeonie?”

“Hmmm?..” No, he’s definitely not moving closer, his legs just have a mind of their own, is all.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He says absentmindedly. Oh look, he’s on the bed now.

“Like…this…” You’re suddenly faint, he’s right in front of you, his legs bracketing your bare ones, his arms more or less pinning you against the bed frame.

Okay, maybe Jeonghyeon’s a little crazy right now but who can blame him when you look like that? Cheeks flushed, gaze bashfully trying to avoid his. Well that won’t do. 

The edges of his mouth quirk upwards, just a little, before his hand is tilting your chin up and his lips meet yours. It lingers, sweet and needy and just leejeong. He pulls away briefly just to say”

“I missed you.” And then he’s kissing you again, hotter and hungrier. You can’t help as your fingers fly to his hair, tugging at the strands.

Jeonghyeon snaps, a hand snaking around your waist and flipping you over so he’s leaning against the bed frame, you on his lap. His shirt is all rucked up, exposing your bare thighs and well, everything. He runs his fingers over your skin reverently, leaving goosebumps in his wake, all the heat pooling between your legs where he’s pressed, firm and straining.

“Pretty doll.” He murmurs and you whimper, just a little. Jeonghyeon doesn’t even bother to undress, slicking up his fingers and opening you up for him, other hand cupping the back of your neck to hold you close.

“You’re so good for me.” He praises as you get shaky, hands gripping to the back of his shirt as his fingers send jolts of heat up your spine.

Your boyfriend can’t help but call your name as he slides in, saying it like a prayer, holding onto your hips for dear life as he breathes heavily, jaw clenching. Then, he wraps one hand loosely around your throat and pauses. Jeonghyeon looks at you, a tentative question.

“Okay?” You nod. “You know that I’ll stop if you tell me to stop?” Another clear nod. “And if you can’t talk?” You give him the signal you agreed on. “Okay I’ll-”

Fingers tighten around your neck and you gasp as he coaxes your hips up only for gravity to bring them back down. Both of your breaths stutter, your more than his. He’s slow at first, glancing up every few seconds to check on you. But soon, his pace becomes frantic and you can only cry out faintly, warm fingers cutting off your airflow.

“You feel…” He whispers into your ear, almost as overwhelmed by the sensation as you were. “You’re doing well, doll.” You swear you nearly white out from that alone.

Later, concerned hands carefully run over the red marks around your neck. You’re blissed out and boneless, lying on top of him, his chest still heaving.

“Good?” He asks like it’s your first time, so tentative that you can only smile.

“Very good.” You breathe out. You’re warm and cleaned up, having changed out of his soiled shirt into another one, still his of course. He’s in his pajamas too, hair still a little damp from the bath you both took.

“Goodnight Leejeongie~” You murmur as you doze off. Jeonghyeon closes his eyes.

If he lost his shit everytime you did something, he’d definitely have a heart attack by now. But sometimes, you know? That didn’t seem too bad.