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yurimother · 4 years

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The Best Yuri of 2020

2020 was hell in every way, and many of us are looking forward to new possibilities and advances in 2021. However, the year brought us many small moments and gifts worth celebrating. Among these, the explosive growth and change within the Yuri genre are among the most precious and most outstanding achievements. This second century of Yuri opened with a bang, as phenomenal new works, creators, and moments made their mark and helped change the future genre.

This annual list is a celebration of just a handful of the fantastic titles, people, and events in Yuri. There are likely some even greater ones that did not make the list because there is so much content in both English and Japanese that even I cannot keep up. However, among the troves of treasure, these titles stood out as shining examples of Yuri excellence. Some were released this year, others were recently adapted into English, and still, others are established titles that rose to prominence to dominate the conversation and my mind this year, but every one of them is worthy of being on this list and in your heart.

Here is the Best Yuri of 2020!

15: The Curse of Kudan Remastered

Japanese Yuri visual novel developers show no sign of slowing down as they continue to push to new heights and try new ideas. These are the same amazing people who brought us the delightful educational Yuri game The Expression Amrilato and the hilarious and surprisingly queer OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbando’s. However, this most recent release, The Curse of Kudan Remastered, is their best work yet. Released near Halloween, this game brings a new edge of dark mystery and the occult to Yuri audiences worldwide.

The Curse of Kudan is available on MangaGamer, JAST USA, Denpasoft, and Sekai Project.

14: Adachi and Shimamura

English audiences were finally treated this year to Hitoma Iruma’s long-running and wildly successful Yuri light novel series, Adachi and Shimamura. Although the story struggles to gain traction, dedicated readers’ have their patience rewarded with a sweet tale full of gay pining. Alternatively, you can jump into its stellar anime adaptation, with gorgeous visuals and realized characters you will actually be willing to put up with the annoying Yashiro just to see where the title characters go. The series shows no sign of slowing down either, as the manga adaptation is coming to Western audiences next year.

Adachi and Shimamura is available to stream on Funimation. The light novel series is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3rTSZTK

Honorable Mention: Happy Go Lucky Days

The OVA adaptation of Fragtime got most of the attention this year. Still, director Takuya Satou and Pony Canyon also gave us this much-overlooked “love is love” anthology movie based on Takako Shimura’s manga (Sweet Blue Flowers, Wandering Son). The first short in the film, “Happy,” is easily the best Yuri anime of the year. It follows the beautiful yet realistic queer love story of two women hooking up at a mutual ex-girlfriend’s wedding, only for the relationship to blossom and warm viewers’ hearts. Sadly, while stylized, the budget demanded the animation cut a few too many corners. Additionally, the subsequent stories are at best tedious and at worst alarmingly problematic, which is why Happy Go Lucky Days only gets an honorable mention.

The OVA is streaming on HIDIVE

13: Mieri Hiranishi

The Yuri scene has many colorful creators with a breadth of different ideas and stories in the genre, yet few have provided as much humor and joy as Mieri. This talented creator spectacularly tumbled into the scene with her manga essay The Moment I Realized I Wasn’t Straight, which embodies the brutal honesty and realism of Nagata Kabi and matches it with exaggerated hilarity. She continues to chronicle her painful struggles of being a butch girl in love with butch girls in the monthly series The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend. Alternatively, you can follow her on Twitter for just as much heart and laughter.

Read The Girl that Can’t get a Girlfriend on Tapas and Webtoon.

12: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

My Next Life as a Villainess has what can only be described as volcanic bisexual energy. Every character protagonist Catarina Claes encounters is entirely enthralled by her. Of course, she is far too preoccupied with her quest to avoid doom flags and change her ultimate fate to notice any romantic interest. The series is rewarding and well structured, as views are just as focused on how Catarina plans to avoid certain doom as they are with the various romantic misses her band of companions cooks up. While the “friendship ending” did not capitalize on its Yuri potential, it was perhaps the most satisfying possibility for this crazy harem, at least until season two comes out, which looks, unfortunately, to be significantly less queer.

My Next Life as a Villainess is streaming on Crunchyroll

11: Love Me for Who I Am

Kata Konayama’s manga series is less Yuri than a general LGBT work, but it has a lesbian character and explores her identity and struggles in great detail. Few titles before have captured the exciting and nervous waves of emotions that young people feel as they explore gender and sexual identities and try to find themselves. This heartfelt and extremely queer series rubberbands between cute moe dress up to tragic and gripping backstory, keeping readers on their toes the whole time.

Love me for Who I Am is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3rTSZTK

10: A Summer’s End – Hong Kong 1986

Oracle and Bone’s debut visual novel, A Summer’s End, is set in a vibrant and electric 1980’s Hong Kong. Drawing inspiration from classic Asian cinema, music, and fashion. The worlds of Michelle, a young office worker, and a free-spirited woman named Same collide. The two struggle to comprehend and accept each other’s feelings just as they struggle against society’s expectations and prejudices. An incredibly thoughtful and touching adventure, the creators incorporated vital contemporary elements include Asian LGBTQ rights and growing political unrest in Hong Kong, into this illustrious game.

The visual novel is available on Steam.

Honorable Mention: Goodbye, My Rose Garden

In the same vein as A Summer’s End, Goodbye, My Rose Garden is a beautiful period piece that incorporates LGBT views into its shattering narrative. The story follows a bright-eyed immigrant, Hanako, wanting to make a new life in England as an author at the dawn of the twentieth century. She takes a job as a maid to noblewoman Alice, but their relationship takes a turn when Alice asks Hanako to kill her. This poignant tale is beautiful and an honest depiction of love and its conflict with responsibility and society.

Goodbye, My Rose Garden is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/3hFSyaG

9: Shio Usui

Usui’s hit Shaikaijin Yuri manga Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon could easily take this spot even though it is not even out in English until February 2021. The manga is already making waves and receiving constant praise. The characters and their journey to discover love and self-acceptance are as charming as they are relatable and grounded. However, it is the creator, Usui, who really deserves acclaim. Not just for their work on Doughnuts, but having a second serialized story, Onna Tomodachi to Kekkon Shitemita, in monthly Yuri magazine Comic Yuri Hime simultaneously. It is even more remarkable when you consider these two iconic stories are Usui’s first long-running works, as they only contributed one-shots before.

8: Bloom Into You: Regarding Saeki Sayaka

Bloom Into You is possibly the most iconic Yuri series in the past decade, and while the manga deserves its own place on this list, the best thing to come out of the series as a whole is easily the light novels. This trilogy by Adachi and Shimamura creator Hitoma Iruma dives deep into supporting cast member Sayaka. Readers are treated to a delightful journey as she discovers her sexuality, experiences heartbreak, and finally finds herself breaking free and falling in love. With the help of gorgeous illustrations by Nakatani Nio herself, Iruma masterfully captures Sayaka’s unique voice and emotions in this wonderful series. Whether a fan of the originals or not, every Yurijin must check out Regarding Saeki Sayaka.

The light novel series is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3hFSyaG

7: Our Teachers are Dating

The best a Yuri can get. This workplace romance follows two teachers at the start of a new relationship taking nervous yet enthusiastic first steps, including saying I love you, going on their first date, and even sleeping together. It is so heartfelt and salacious that readers will squeal the whole time. Additionally, our heroines are supported in their relationship by everyone they know, their students, colleagues, and even the principal. It is a perfect world for these two lovebirds! Our Teachers are Dating would easily be number one or two in any other year, but the competition is fierce in 2020. So even though this is only number seven, it is still a master class Yuri manga.

The manga is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/38XY3O9

6: Amongst Us

Who would have thought that a comedy alternative universe story spinoff of a fantasy action series would be the single best Yuri webcomic this year? Shilin’s astounding artwork illustrations the hilarious and irresistible journey of girlfriends Blackbird and Veloce. These two eccentric young women get into all kinds of everyday mischief that bounces between tender and touching romance, completely outrageous comedy, and downright thirst-inducing sorcery. Seriously, you should buy the first volume for Veloce’s back muscles alone. The storyline skips between time, but both their established relationship and their meeting as teenagers are adorkable and captivating.

Amongst Us is available online free on Webtoon and the comic’s website. The first volume is in paperback on Shilin’s site.

Honorable Mention: Éclair

There are a lot of Yuri anthologies out there, and they have done some beautiful things. Many focus on themes like Syrup. Others collect a series of stories by an author into one bound work. However, out of all of them, Éclair is the most successful. ASCII Media Works took some of the genre’s most extraordinary creators and let them do whatever they wanted, and the results are spectacular. The incredible talent behind Éclair somehow packs a full volume’s worth of story and character into just a few pages with every chapter. While the first volume came overseas a few years ago, Yen Press gave Yurijin a gift this year by releasing the entire rest of the series in which readers can get lost.

The anthology series is published by Yen Press - https://amzn.to/38XY3O9

5: I’m in Love with the Villainess

A small trend of isekai Yuri with villainesses emerged recently, and I honestly had few hopes of I’m in Love with the Villainess. The series is pretty popular, but I often find that this does not denote quality, and with isekai having some institutional issues, I suspected this would fall flat. Then the volume three cover showcased an incredible accomplishment, allowing for a lesbian relationship to blossom into a family with children, and it blew me away. Finally, I read volume one and realized that the series has incredible character, some of the best world-building I have ever seen in a light novel, thoughtful discussions of inequality and societal issues, and most impressively, open and frank discussion of queer identity and life Yuri has ever seen! This one is something special.

The series is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/3nedvdZ

4: The Last of Us Part II

Yes, I know this one is not Yuri and that a portion of the population despises this game and will likely be exceptionally angry at me for including it. However, I maintain that it was an incredibly challenging masterpiece. Naughty Dog did not take the easy route out and delivered one of the most devastating media experiences I have ever seen. As I said in my article about the game, playing it changed me, and it sticks with me to this day. The Last of Us Part II earns its spot on this list because it pushed boundaries more with LGBTQ inclusion than any other AAA game. From brave inclusion of LGBTQ themes to queer characters and storylines at its center, the game changes gaming and it will never go back.

The Last of Us Part II is available on PlayStation 4

3: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

She-Ra feels like the culmination of all the LGBTQ progress western cartoons have made over the past few years. From The Legend of Korra to Steven Universe, young people are finally seeing more LGBTQ people represented on the small screen. This epic fantasy concluded with an amazing and powerful lesbian romance, delivering on its queer promise and revolutionized representation in a trope-defying crescendo.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power is streaming on Netflix

2: The Conditions of Paradise

The greatest single Yuri work of all in 2020 was the English release of Akiko Morishima’s breakthrough manga, The Conditions of Paradise. Initially released in 2007, this anthology detailed the love between adult women. It was in every way a manga ahead of its time, and seeing it finally get a small piece of the recognition it deserves overseas is a true gift. The fact that we can own this legendary piece of Yuri history and Morishima’s other anthologies is nothing short of a blessing from the Yuri goddess.

The Conditions of Paradise is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/38bh4xq

Honorable Mention: Otherside Picnic

This eerie sci-fi horror series combines the best of pulse-pounding thrillers, complex and intelligent hard science fiction, and exciting Yuri romance. Author Iori Miyazawa spends as much time crafting a well-paced and intriguing narrative about a mysterious world where occult creatures roam as he does establishing two believable and grounded heroes in Sorawo and Toriko. The romance between the two may be slow to start, but their chemistry is undeniable and as the stakes and story build, so too does their relationship. Not only are the light novels incredible, but the series’ manga adaptation is coming soon to the West as well as an upcoming TV anime in early 2021.

Otherside Picnic is streaming on Funimation. The light novels are published by J-Novel Club - https://amzn.to/3niiv1g

1. Yuri subgenres

For a long time, Yuri was not a genre of its own, but elements of romances or bonds between women found in other works. Now, thanks to an increasing library of works, the advent of social media, and a wider audience, Yuri is a genre on its own, with many creators telling different stories in different styles. However, 2020 saw the continued emergence of something extraordinary, subgenres. Yuri is now so vast, we can actually categorize the works within. Depending on their characters, like classic schoolgirl romances or spicy shakaijin office affairs, their world, such as fantasy or isekai series and thrilling science fiction adventures, and even other elements within. One of my personal favorites is the feminist Yuri that emerges from titles like Sexiled, where women celebrate the accomplishments of other women and dismantle power structures stacked against them. Now, no matter what kind of Yurijin you are, there is something for you to love.

I am happy to leave 2020 behind, but I bring with me a renewed love and admiration for Yuri. 2021 looks to be a somehow even better year for the genre, and I am thrilled to experience every minute of it that I can. Yuri has transformed into something far greater than I ever thought it would be, and let us all enjoy its evolution and expansion together in 2021.

#yuri #manga #anime #top 10 #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #girls love #gl #adachi and shimamura #otherside picnic #lists #2020 #happy new year #2021 #new year

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

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When God Was a Woman

Merlin Stone spent approximately ten years engaged in research of the lesser-known, sometimes hidden depictions of the Sacred Feminine, from European and Middle Eastern societies, in preparation to complete this work. In the book, she describes these archetypal reflections of women as leaders, sacred entities and benevolent matriarchs, and also weaves them into a larger picture of how our modern societies grew to the present imbalanced state. … The book is now seen as having been instrumental in the modern rise of feminist theology in the 1970s to 1980s, along with authors such as Elizabeth Gould Davis, Riane Eisler and Marija Gimbutas. Some have related it as well to the work of authors Margaret Murray and Robert Graves. LINK

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In this 1976 book the sculptor and art historian, Merlin Stone, discusses the history behind the religion(s) of the Goddess. Various religions in the past held that “God” was a female deity, as only females are the creators of life. There is anthropological and archaeological evidence which suggest that the earliest religions were those with a female deity.

She reminds us of Innin, Inanna, Nana, Nut, Anat, Anahita, Istar, Isis, Au Set, Ishara, Asherah, Ashtart, Attoret, Attar and Hathor, amongst others. She takes us on an ambitious journey, travelling from the dawn of the Neolithic, through the Sumerian myths and writing, over to Crete, and then she goes through the Bible with a fine-toothed comb, ferreting out the Goddess is mentioned in its pages.

It wasn’t until Indo-European religions (which eventually developed the Judeo-Christian cultures) came through with their male-dominator culture, that the Goddess was first suppressed. With this suppression of the Goddess came the suppression of women’s rights. This is also demonstrated when we look at the Judeo-Christian (Abrahamic) religions, and we see the subjugation of women (double standards, rape, slavery, etc.).

On top of this, we see women blamed for the fall of man (as in the Old Testament of the Bible), and this is believed to be an artifact of the patriarchal religions’ suppression of the Goddess. The fig tree was a symbol for the Goddess in many areas around the Fertile Crescent, as well as the serpent. If we look at the book of Genesis in the Bible, we can “coincidentally” see these symbols (namely the serpent) as something representing “evil” or “deceit”.

It was “Eve” who ate the fruit first, so not only is the serpent symbol demonized, but also women in general. Ironically, even if we read the fable of Adam and Eve straight out of Genesis, we see that Eve was actually deceived by a trained deceiver (the serpent), where Adam was deceived by his wife (not a trained deceiver). So Adam was coerced into “sin” by someone he trusted that was apparently just ignorant, and Eve was coerced into “sin” by a trained deceiver — yet it is Eve that takes the bulk of the blame? This is further evidence of how ridiculous the fable is, and how there were so many political reasons behind the religions that suppressed women’s rights. Stone does a decent job presenting the evidence and findings and basically summarizing what happened to women as a result of these patriarchal religious shifts.

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Greece was invaded by northern peoples several times. Robert Graves, in his introduction to The Greek Myths, wrote in 1955, “Achaean invasions of the thirteenth century BC seriously weakened the matrilineal tradition… when the Dorians arrived, towards the close of the second millenium, patrilineal succession became the rule.” With these northern people came the worship of the Indo-European Dyaus Pitar, literally God Father, eventually known in Greece as Zeus and later in Rome as Jupiter. This transition period of the change from the worship of the Goddess to the male deity, the change most intensively brought about by the Dorian invasions, was the subject of E. Butterworth’s Some Traces of the Pre-Olympian World, written in 1966. — Chapter 3 page 51

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Sun Myung Moon warned America that we must have sex the way he told us, in the positions he designated, or else we would forfeit our “love organs” to the dark lord Satan. Moon has long spoken about his desire to see gays and “free sex” banished from America. Moon said “Satan is clinging to our sexual organs.” Women are a “line of prostitutes” who should be punished for their selfishness. “The concave organ {vagina} should be sealed with concrete”. “Woman’s sexual organ is like the open mouth of a snake filled with poison,” he said. Men do not get off any easier. Keep pliers in your pocket, he says, “and when you go to the bathroom, once a day, pinch your love organ. Cut the skin a little bit as a warning.”

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Jim Goad: “If the cult leader wants to control members completely, he aims to control their sexual life. Sex reaches all the way to the core of one’s being, until the unconscious level. It is hard to imagine anything more intrusive than dictating what someone does with their genitals. When a person hands over their sex drive to the cult leader, he does not need to worry about the members’ car keys and bank accounts. They are already his. Sex is only one wrench in the cult leader’s toolbox, but it is the most important one. The aim lies in altering the followers’ sexuality until it is no longer their own. Sex is used to demolish personal identity in favor of the hive mentality. The cult leaders cannibalize their followers’ libidinal energy.” LINK

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Kirsti Nevalainen:

The Fall story in Genesis 3 was an attack against the high priestess/queen as the representative of the Godhead.

The Fall account in Genesis 3 was authored by a Yahwist theologian and it represents a theological and political attack against the Sacred Marriage Rites of Canaanite people. LINK

A History Of God – The 4,000-year quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam

If Adam and Eve didn’t exist, then there was no fall and therefore no need for a savior.

The concept of original sin seems to have been developed about 200 years after Jesus by Irenaeus and later by St Augustine.

#merlin stone #adam and eve #The Fall Of Man

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spencersawkward · 4 years

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I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

#mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg oneshot #mgg smut #mgg x reader #knife kink #knifeplay

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impossiblelibrary · 3 years

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Today's rant brought to you by: Queer Eye Japan, can we all just try to be as kind as they try to be?

After watching the Queer Eye Japan super short season, I wanted to google to see the overall reaction to the show, make sure that my western eyes were correct in seeing the care that was given to the culture. Were cultural taboos, other than being outwardly gay, crossed? So I find this article in the top results and other than the perspective, why tho? Tokyoesque.com had an article with a higher reading level, with surface level appreciation but at least better written.

I can't get over this hate article though. Unfounded, dumb, wrong and incorrect. Do not go forward unless you like that blistering kind of anger from me.

But the reasons just get weaker as the article extends: "Hurts the country it set out to save?" Looking for white savior much? They did not go to save Japan, they gave some free shit to like 4-5 people, think smaller.

Their culture guide wasn't gay enough.

You want to suggest any lgbt insta models or celebrities, use your platform to raises some up?

"There is a growing sexless culture in Japan for married and unmarried people, and it is perilous watching Queer Eye present this without any context behind what is driving this behavior."

Sexiness is what the fab 5 embrace, unfortunately and it was probably discussed behind the scenes of how much talking about sex was allowed or polite and the conversation of not having sex is closer to the tip of the tongue rather than the feeling of sexiness. The West is not the ones blasting that information. It is across multiple Japanese printed newspapers and online stories by now and the "context" is still being discussed and debated amongst Japanese. So I don't think any outsiders should be weighing in or "explaining" this phenomenon. We can repeat what we have been told but guessing at the reasons is not our place. The reasons illustrated by the author of the article seem lacking, a take but not the only one, but who am I to speak on that being in a sexual relationship with someone who pulls from that culture?

Kiko begins to lecture Yoko-san on how she “threw away her womanhood” (referring to a Japanese idiom, onna wo suteru) by going makeup-free and wearing drab, shapeless clothes.

The mistranslation by the subtitles fixed by this author was necessary information. But Kiko didn't lecture her on it, it was brought up by Yoko before any of them arrived, that was her theme, that was what she had decided to focus on. Meanwhile, if you watched Jonathan, he understood there was no time to spend on makeup and skincare so provided her a one instrument, 3 points of color on the skin to feel prettier. That and the entire episode being the 5 treating her like a woman on a date, not trying to hook her up, which is what they did in American eps.

"In teaching a Japanese woman, who already struggles to find time for herself, how to make an English recipe, Antoni is making great TV and nothing more."

So Antoni shouldn't have taught her apple pie because it's too exotic for a Japanese woman. (Can you smell the sexism?)

He didn't make an apple pie, altho Yoko did mention her mother made that for her when she was a kid. He made an apple tartine after going to a Japanese bakery who makes that all the time. Then highlighted the apples came from Fuji in true Japanese media fashion. Honey, American television doesn't usually highlight where the ingredients come from. A Japanese producer told him to do that. So all worries handled within the same ep. She got Japanese ingredients, had the recipe shown to her and then made it for her friends in her own house. Did the author actually watch this show or nah?

"beaten over the head with his western self-help logic. “You have to live for yourself,” he says."

The style of build up the 5 went for was confrontational but in a "I'm fighting for you" way. It's hard to describe, but the best I can say is, a person has multiple voices in their head, from parents, siblings, society, and maybe themselves. By being loud and obnoxious, American staples right there, they are adding one more voice. You deserve this, you are amazing, you are worth it. I know this is against most Japanese cultural modesty, but maybe it shouldn't be.

Sarcasm lies ahead:

Apparently: mispronunciation is microaggressions, not just someone who had a sucky school system. Yea okay, They're laughing at the language not at how stumbling these monolinguals are with visiting another country. Mmhm. Japanese don't say I love you and don't touch and that should stay that way instead of maybe, once in awhile, feeling like they can hug. Yeah, let's just ignore Yoko's break down that she had never hugged her lifelong friend after hugging strangers multiple times. Maid cafes are never sexualized in Japan ever, just don't go down that one street in Akihabara where the men are led off by the hand sheepishly blushing. Gag me. And Japanese men love to cry in front of their wives and would never break down once the wife leaves. I have never seen a Japanese movie showcase that move. Grr.

"I identify as many cultures."

So you're a Japanese man when it's convenient for you to get an article published? Are you nationally Japanese or just ethnically or culturally?

Homeland is an inherently racist word?

"After the Bush administration created the Department of Homeland Security after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a Republican consultant and speechwriter Peggy Noonan urged, “the name Homeland Security grates on a lot of people, understandably. Homeland isn’t really an American word, it’s not something we used to say or say now.”

Yes, let's use a Washington Post article rather than a etymology professor. Yes, the google search results increased after 2001 Homeland Security was used but the word has been around since the 1660s and I've read multiple turn of the century lit on white people returning to their homeland, i.e. the town off the coast they were born in.

"But" is not disagreeing. I think the repeated offender for the author is the not acknowledging the makeover-ees feelings. But, that is how LGBT have decided to deal with the inner voices that invade from society. They are just that, not our own, they are the influence of society, and we can choose, we have to choose, to be influenced by someone, anyone else.

Karamo can't speak about being black when an Asian is speaking about being Asian, even though the Asian gay man was feeling alone. It's called relating bitches, and I'm done with people saying that is redirecting the conversation, it's extending the conversation. That's how we talk, the spotlight is shared, especially when someone's about to cry and doesn't want to be seen as crying, time to turn the spotlight.

The gay monk wasn't good enough, you should have invited the gay politician.

Yeah, causes I'm sure a politician has all the time in the world for a quick stint and cry. They picked a Japanese monk who travels to NY because they had a guest who travels to the West too. Did you want him to stop traveling back and forth? Did you want a pure, ethnic and cultural Japanese gay man who has no ties to the west to talk to this Western educated young man? Seriously?

This is just not how it works in Japan.

Being in a multi-cultural marriage between two rebels, discussions on facets of culture are plenty in my household. Culture should be respected enough to be considered but not held on a pedestal like we should never adjust or throw some things out. LGBT being quiet and private for instance. "Being seen" was Jonathan's advice, and a good one especially for a Japanese gay man that was called feminine since he was a kid. Some gay men can hide, but as Jonathan said, he couldn't hide what he was, he couldn't hide this. So fuck it. Don't hide. It's actually more dangerous for a feminine man to come off as anxious rather than gay and proud. It makes you more of a target if they think you won't fight back. Proud means, Imma throw hands too, bitch.

This is also from the civil rights playbook going back to Black America: never hold a protest or a fight without the cameras, without being seen. LGBT have found the more seen they are, in media, in the streets, the better off we are. When LGBT Americans were being "private" about our lifestyles, we died, a la 1980s. They won't care if you start dying off if they never saw you to begin with.

And hence why I think the author's real anger is from these 5 being seen dancing flamboyantly in Shibuya, in Harajuku, afforded the privilege of doing this safely because of their tourist status, cameras and very low violence rate in Tokyo, loud and obnoxiously. Honestly, they wouldn't have been invited or nominated if they didn't want that brash American-ness coming into their home, just for a taste, at least.

Here's my real anger, my own jealousy: Japan's queer community currently does not have marriage or adoption rights. US does, so we have progressed further. But we are also not that many years from being tied to cow fences with barbed wire, beaten with baseball bats and left for dead overnight. If things are so bad over there, maybe take a few pages from the civil right playbook we took so much time to perfect and produced by the Black Americans who fought first. But so far, I only hear loss of jobs and marriages, which we still have here too. Stop trying to divide us, we are one community, LGBT around the world and we are here to try to help. Take it or leave it, it's not like we're going to go organize your own Pride parade for you.

Rant over? I guess. Is this important enough to be put in the google results along with his. Hell no, anyone with half a mind can see he's reaching more than half the time. And any argument about: this wasn't covered! There are a shit ton of conversations that are not covered in the 45 min they have. They are not a civil rights show, it's a makeover show, doing their best in that direction anyway. Know what it is.

Next blog post, what research I would guess was happening behind the scenes for each of the 5? I'm pretty sure I saw Jonathan doing Japanese style makeup there...

#queer eye #Queer eye Japan #original #rant

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refusethyname28 · 3 years

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Hey you, I think I’m...

Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin (Wolfstar)

Summary: Sirius doesn’t know how to tell Remus how he feels. Perhaps a thousand and one letters will do the trick?

A/N: I wrote this fic quite some time ago for a weekend challenge on Harry Potter Amino. It was a challenge for pride month and this is kind of what came of it. This is set during the Marauders’ Era. The ending is set around 1980.

Warnings: None

Word count: 6157 words

The moon and the stars cried. The moon lighted the way while the stars fell down while not knowing what to say. It was hard to keep it all in when all they both desired was to be together, yet neither knew what to say or how to say it. That is why they cried.

Dear Remus Lupin,

Before you go out and interrogate everyone, talk to everyone you know and even the people you don’t know, to find out who wrote you this, please believe me when I say that I truly mean what I wrote in this letter. I think you’re wonderful, and I mean that in the best way. I genuinely think you are an amazing person to just admire. You are kind, caring, loving, gentle- even when you say you’re not. The way you study always gets me, you know? It’s your head pining over all that homework, all those books, and then at some point, you will accidentally knock over your inkpot and you’ll curse at yourself. And then you’ll look up to see if anyone heard you. Honestly, it is so extremely adorable. Or when you arrive at the Great Hall with your friends, it is amazing to see that smile on your face as you breathe in the smell of freshly baked goods. To put it lightly, I think I fancy you…

“I think I fancy you, honestly this sounds stupid,” Sirius muttered to himself as he was reading through the letter he was currently writing. The young Black groaned in frustration and shook his head. His three best friend had gone outside to enjoy the sun, but not Sirius. No, he had to write this, he’d promised James that he was going to confess his love to Remus this year. The problem was that end of the year was quite near, it was now the beginning of June and if Sirius did not confess his love this year he’d owe James a lot of money. The male had locked himself in their dormitory and told himself that he was not allowed to leave until he finished this. Sirius’s eyes skimmed over the letter and not that much later he put it down and took out a new blank piece of parchment. “Shouldn’t ‘love’ be a celebration?” the young male murmured to himself. This did not feel like a celebration, this was a lot harder than he anticipated, and he was scared of rejection. Sirius never really wanted to admit that he was scared of being rejected and ignored by the ones he loved most. He could not lose his best friend over a stupid love letter. This confession was more like signing his own will or placing the final flower on his coffin before saying goodbye, because not only would he confess his love, he would also have to come out as gay. Yes, it was a very well-known fact that Sirius made out with girls in the past, and he did enjoy it, kind of, but did he ever feel like he wanted to spend the rest of his life with one of those girls? You guessed right, not ever. Not once did he think that he might be settling down with one of those girls. He did have that feeling every time he looked at Remus. Remus grounded him, he made sure Sirius was true to himself and that is what Sirius needed. Some to ground him, to steady him when he was falling apart. He needed someone to truly love him for who he was, not for the image or reputation he had. It was like Remus had the power to truly open Sirius’s eyes, to show him the wonders and beauty of this world.

Sirius stared down at the blank piece of parchment on his bed, and he shook his head. He let himself get lost in new thoughts. He wondered what his family would do when they found out about Sirius’s sexuality. They would presumably find out about it not even a second after Sirius officially came out. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to that. The Blacks knew everything that Sirius was up to in the shortest period of time, they had people everywhere- and with people, Sirius meant his younger brother, Regulus. Sirius sighed and closed his eyes. He thought of all the pros and cons of him telling Remus about his feelings, he was rather quick to realise that there were more cons than pros. “I promised James, and I never break a promise,” he told himself, and he went back to writing, starting a new letter.

Remus John Lupin,

Look I know, I’m not that great with things like love and big romantic confessions. You tell me every time I get a new girlfriend, and I’m sorry. I really tried to change all of that, but it didn’t happen. Something else did happen though, you see, I fell for you. Well, this did not exactly happen recently, let’s say, I think I’ve been in love with you for quite some time now, years even. You might hate me for it, you might think I am not capable of something like this, and I am sorry you feel that way about me. But I’m not going to keep this inside of me any longer, I need to say it. I am madly in love with you, Remus, and I cannot help it. So, is it really necessary for you to ask around who sent you this letter? Not really, I guess I can better say it. Well, it is me Moony. You’re mate, Sirius. Yes, I fancy you. I fancy you and your billion cups of tea at 3 AM, I fancy you and your knitted jumpers, you who folds your socks every night before you go to bed, you who will get grumpy whenever James and I are being too loud while you’re reading a book. I fancy messy you, sad you, angry you, sick you, tired you, I fancy you, Remus. Everything you are, I fancy it all. James told me that it would be easy to tell you how I felt, but it is not. It is the worst thing ever. You make me nervous. You, of all people! I know you’ll probably laugh at me and think I’m being silly, I mean, who is able to make Sirius Black nervous? Well Moony, congrats you’re the one. You’re the winner.

It’s hard for me to tell you because I don’t know how you feel, I don’t know what I will do when I see your reaction. I just can’t lose you, Rem, I can’t. But that’s not the only thing. I’m scared of the reactions I will get from others, I am scared of what my family will say. I am scared to go back there this summer and face the consequences if I do decide to send this letter. Honestly, I’m scared of it all. An outcast, the white sheep of the family, the disappointment, not a true Black heir, a disgrace and now the word ‘homosexual’ can be added to that stupid list of things and names they can call me. I’m sorry I shouldn’t put this all on you, it is not your fault. You’re too good, even if you can’t see it yourself. I’m also afraid of loving you because I’m not even sure if I truly understand the extremely complex concept that is love. People always say: ‘when you know, you know’ right? With you, I like to think I know, but is that love? Or is it just a stupid little crush, a stupid little crush that I’ve been having since we decided to become Animagi to help you. I’m afraid I don’t understand the concept of love well enough to really be yours and to fully commit myself to you. I’m not even sure if you want to have me. Look, I understand it if you don’t, that’s okay, I think? I might be heartbroken for a little while, but I am not losing my friend over a crush, so you bet your magic arse that I will be there to annoy you the rest of our lives. No matter what will happen when you read this, no matter what you will do, we’re a team.

Yours sincerely,

Sirius Black.

Sirius stared at the paper as he let the ink dry. This was the very first letter he actually finished. He’d written a couple before but all ended like the one before this one, without a proper ending. They were all written by someone ‘anonymous’, it was slightly odd that this one, where Sirius used his own name, was the one letter he actually finished. But he was never going to send this. This letter was too raw and too personal, he couldn’t send this to Remus. The poor lad would have a heart attack reading this. This letter was never going to see the light of day ever again. Sirius waited until the ink was fully dried down, he then closed the letter and put it away with the other letter. All the letters, concerning this very matter, were being stacked away in a little box Sirius kept hidden from the rest. Not many knew that there was a loose floorboard next to Peter’s bed. You could take it out and hide things underneath it, that is where Sirius hid the box. The male then endeavoured to write a few more letters, but all ended disastrously. In other words, the letters did not even have a proper ending so, instead of putting them with the other letters, Sirius burned them. After a little while, he decided to give up and join his three friends outside by the lake.

James cheered loudly when he saw Sirius arrive, Remus looked up and gave Sirius this absolutely dazzling smile. It was like the softest smile in the history of smiles and it was a fact that only Remus Lupin could smile like that. Sirius wanted Remus to never stop smiling like this, he was gorgeous like this. As soon as Sirius’s eyes rested on Remus his mind was calm. The sun shone upon Remus beautifully and the hot beams highlighted Remus’s face in the most beautiful ways. “Hey Pads, finally done?” Remus’s voice brought Sirius back to reality, and he nodded, smiling at his three friends. “Pain in the arse, Transfiguration, but please don’t tell Minnie I said that. Otherwise, she might never smile at me again,” Sirius spoke in a very dramatic voice. He let himself fall down next to James and Remus. Peter handed Sirius a bag of peanuts and the young Black took some. “What have you three been up to?” Sirius casually asked. He genuinely tried so hard not to get too distracted by Remus, which was awfully hard as Remus was just sitting there, not having a clue of what he was doing to Sirius by being extremely handsome. Sirius thought it was not fair for someone to look that gorgeous at the age of sixteen. Compared to Remus Sirius himself felt like a mess. A beautiful mess according to a lot of girls, but a mess nonetheless. “Nothing much, Pads. Don’t worry, you did not miss out on anything,” Remus assured his friend and Sirius nodded. The four boys sat there in silence, only the sounds of the birds and the lake could be heard, and Peter’s chewing as well. Remus laid back in the grass, and he closed his eyes, letting the sun all upon his face as he lay in between the flowers. Sirius watched his friend lay back, and he was, again, in awe. Remus looked absolutely stunning already, but this truly was a wonderful sight. Sirius felt someone nudging him, but he ignored it, he was too captivated by Remus’s beauty. The young werewolf always spoke of his face as ugly, because of all the scars but Sirius was someone who actually found beauty in scars. Sirius had scars himself, both mental scars and physical ones. Sirius learned to live with them by telling himself that every scar had a story, they were a sign of survival, how harsh that reality might be to others, it was the truth. Every scar had a story, that’s what made them so special. Remus hated it when people pointed out his scars or even looked at them, but when Sirius did that it was okay. Sirius felt somewhat privileged in that way. The young Black heir just wanted to kiss each scar on Remus’s body and tell gorgeous carrier how wonderful he looked, that the scars did not make him ugly, not at all. They made Remus even more interesting, captivating and more bloody gorgeous than he already was. The nudging kept going on and soon Sirius realised that it was James Potter who was poking his sides with his wand. “What?” Sirius spoke in a slightly hushed voice as he eyed the Potter boy. James just stared his best friend in the eyes and arched his eyebrows up. “Nothing, literally nothing,” Sirius whispered, and he sighed deeply. “Mate, you know our deal,” James said back and Sirius nodded, he was still glancing over from his one side, where Remus was, to his other where James was practically breathing in his neck. “Potter, too close alright?” Sirius chuckled and he pushed his friend away a bit. Sirius plucked the grass as he kept thinking of ways to tell the scarred boy that he, Sirius Orion Black III, was deeply in love with him. The letters were certainly no option, he couldn’t even properly finish them, well except for one. Remus had often told Sirius that he wasn’t sure if Sirius was capable of love and that kind of commitment, and yes, it hurt Sirius every time his friend said it, but he knew that Remus did not mean it in a bad way. Sirius wasn’t even sure about it himself, committing to someone like that was a huge step, and considering everything Sirius has been through, he wasn’t completely sure if he was able to love someone like that. So, Remus did have a point. Remus just wondered if Sirius was ever going to settle down, as he basically had a new girlfriend even two or three weeks. Not that it was Sirius’s fault, the girls were all too clingy, they didn’t like it that Sirius spent more time reading Remus a book, because Remus was too tired to read himself, than he actually spent with them. But it also showed how well they actually knew Sirius, because he would, without hesitation, choose friends over lovers unless that lover was also your best friend, which made things rather complicated. Sirius kept his eyes on Remus, and he observed the male in silence while he was being observed by James Potter. It is kind of uncomfortable to have someone watch you this closely, especially because it was James, and he simply couldn’t do things without being extremely obvious. Or at least, he couldn’t do that with Sirius, the two knew each other too well. “Lads, I’m going to have to borrow Pads for a little while, we’ll be back soon,” James then suddenly spoke and Sirius looked at his best friend with a perplexed look on his face. “‘Course, go ahead, we’ll meet you two here again,” Remus said with his calm voice and his eyes still closed. Peter just nodded and finished the last of his peanuts. The two mischievous Gryffindors got up and walked off, leaving their two friends behind.

Sirius looked at Remus as he was being pulled along by James. It was obvious that James wanted to talk to Sirius in private. The two often had these little moments where they would just take the other out on a little walk, and they would talk about everything and anything. James and Sirius had that kind of bond and it was an amazing thing. James truly was the brother Sirius always wished he had The two were now far away from Remus, Peter and any other students really. The young Potter stopped moving and Sirius did as well. The young Black heir looked up to his taller friend. James looked at Sirius, and he raised his eyebrows at the Black. “What? You have this look on your face,” Sirius said as he was being observed by his best friend. “You need to take some action, Sirius, it is very necessary,” James said and Sirius groaned. “Did you write a letter?” James then asked and Sirius shook his head, but he then remembered he actually did write a letter with an actual ending. “Wait, I did actually, but it’s horrible and it is messy and. I cannot possibly send him that letter,” Sirius explained, and he sat down. James dropped next to him and patted his best friend’s back. James opened his mouth, wanting to say something but Sirius interrupted him. “And no, I am certainly not going to tell you where I hid it.” James closed his mouth again and stared at his feet. He really wanted to help Sirius, and he knew that Sirius wanted all the help he could get, even if the male did not want to admit that. Sirius was one of wanting but not speaking it out, James figured that had something to do with his past. It was odd how Sirius was so confident and overly dramatic while walking through the halls but when it came to subjects like love, hate and fear he turned into this silent and overly timid person. It seemed as if Sirius was afraid to allow himself to love someone for real, that is how he acted anyway. James had been telling his friend to tell Remus all year long, but it didn’t happen. Sirius was still hopelessly daydreaming about Remus Lupin. “Sirius, are you afraid to be loved?” James then suddenly asked the young Black in all seriousness. Sirius looked up at James with big eyes, and he sighed deeply. Obviously James knew everything about Sirius, James knew Sirius even better than Sirius knew himself. It was kind of annoying at times, but he also loved James for it. “Perhaps,” the long-haired whispered. It almost was as if Sirius was afraid his fear of being loved would become reality if he said it out loud, that’s how soft the whisper was. Sirius did not want to feel like he needed love, he didn’t want to be desperate for it, but he was. Even though he wasn’t truly sure if he knew the true meaning of the word love, he still wanted it. “It’s okay to be afraid mate, you’ve been through a lot. I really don’t know how you feel right now but I can imagine confessing this to Remus must be hard. But please remember you should be proud of this love, even if it isn’t mutual. Remus making you feel like this will prove anyone wrong that said you weren’t capable of real love. You are, and being scared to admit the way you feel about him proves that.” James rubbed Sirius’s back to comfort his friend. “Remus said that,” Sirius whispered. James nodded and kept rubbing the Black’s back in circling motions. “I know Pads, but he doesn’t mean it like that. He knows very well how vibrant you are, and he knows that you are truly capable of love.” James would be there for Sirius, he would always be there. It wasn’t common in the Black household for anyone to talk openly about their feelings, the children were being taught to keep it to themselves and not to bother anyone else with it. They needed to be strong, to keep the image up, and they could not, under any circumstances, show weakness in front of others. That’s something that haunted Sirius, he couldn’t express himself properly, it was a problem for him really. People wondered why Sirius acted the way he did, they wondered why he had so many girlfriends and who he went from one to another in just a span of barely a month. Sirius wanted to be loved, he wanted to feel loved but he did not know how to ask for it. That was his problem. He never knew true love, never knew what it was like to have a loving family who listened and cared for you, how was anyone supposed to love him if his own family despised him for who he was. What kind of effect would Sirius’s coming out have on his family? Sirius also had to keep in mind that he would have to spend his summer at 12 Grimmauld Place. “Hey mate, I’m here for you alright? Obviously, I’m not going to hold you to that agreement we made. That would be cruel. If you’re not ready to tell him you’re not ready and that’s okay. You need to take your own time with this, just know that I fully support you. I am proud of you no matter what.” Sirius smiled softly at James as the messy-haired spoke these kind words to his friend. The two talked about some other things, such as Sirius’s home life, James’s crush on Lily, Sirius’s crush on Remus and some new ideas for pranks were being discussed as well. After a while, the two Gryffindors decided to go back to their friends.

Dear Remus Lupin,

This is my first letter to you. For your information I won’t be stating my name in this letter, that would be way too awkward. I’m not sure if I were able to face you again if you knew my name. So, no, you will not find out who I am. I just wanted to let you know that I admire you. Admire, that’s putting it lightly, I actually think you are amazing. You are wonderful at everything you do, you’re so kind and gentle even though you say you’re not. You won’t be able to convince me of that. I like every little thing you do, for example, you sitting by the fire late at night while reading a book, or you running around after your friends to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble or even you studying in the library with Lily Evans. I like it all, love it all. To be quite honest with you, I think I’m…

His heart skipped a beat as he read the first letter over and over again. The handwriting was unlike something he’d ever seen before. It was swirly and just absolutely gorgeous. Remus couldn’t believe it, he kept staring at the paper, reading the last words over and over. “I think I’m,” the young werewolf whispered to himself, and he took a deep breath. He then remembered there were more letters, Remus then opened the next envelope that was addressed to him.

Remus,

I’m just going to keep it simple, I think, or I hope. You see I’m not the best at this grand romantic gesture and all. As much as I would like to do something like that for you, I’m not sure if others would appreciate it that much. Romantic, I said? Yes I did. I’m just going to tell you, I like you. I like you a lot and…

Remus turned the letter to see if there was something written on the back of the paper. Nothing, these two first letters were not finished. He picked up a new one, there were about eighteen letters in the box he found, so he kept on reading. It was a good thing that the other three lads were out, because Remus wasn’t too sure what he would do if they found him in here, with all the letters.

Hi Remus,

I fancy you. I’m—

That was a short one, but it was rather straight to the point. There were a few letters left and even though Remus already got the message, he simply could not stop reading all the endearing letters.

Remus Lupin,

Hey you, I’m trying to tell you something here and I would really like it if you’d take your time to read this before going on a quest to find out who wrote you this. It’s rather personal, the thing I wrote in here. You might wonder who this ‘I’ is, well I’m deeply sorry but I will be keeping that too myself. I just figured, or actually my friend did, that it would be best to tell you. I have deeply fallen in l—

Remus read a couple more, they were all unfinished. Some letters were bold, some of them were romantic and some were serious or formal. But they all told Remus the same thing. It was a beautiful thing actually, to see the writer struggle with putting this into words. To see how the writer wanted to tell Remus but wasn’t too sure what to say and how to say it. That was until Remus opened and read the last letter.

Remus John Lupin,

Yours sincerely,

Sirius Black.

Obviously, Remus knew these letters came from Sirius, he literally found the box after trying to look for his chocolate. The lads were known to steal Remus’s chocolates, especially Peter and this box happened to be hidden underneath the loose floorboard close to Peter’s bed. Remus thought he was the only one who knew about that spot, not that he used it for anything, but he figured that whenever he might need a spot he would have one. The letters were stuffed away in a little box with the Black family crest. Remus actually remembered Sirius getting that horrid thing. The young male got it for Christmas a few years back, two perhaps. It had been a snowy and cold night and the four boys decided to stay at Hogwarts, which took Sirius a lot of trying to convince his parents by owl to let him stay as well. The boy had been thirteen or fourteen at the time. This box arrived and when Sirius opened it there was nothing inside it except for a little card with one word written on it, ‘disgrace’. Seeing Sirius’s reaction to that little note had been horrible to watch. The poor boy immediately got tears in his eyes, and he tried to dry them and not to let it show, but he couldn’t hold it in, so he went upstairs, crying as he did so. Obviously James followed him to their dorm. The common room hadn’t been too crowded at that moment, so not many had seen what happened. After a little while, Remus took it upon himself to check on the two boys, so he made his way upstairs to their dorm. When he opened the door Remus saw a crying Sirius with red and puffy eyes in James’s arms who was holding him tight and telling him how amazing he was and how horrible his family treated him. It was at that very moment that Remus realised that he wanted to be that person for Sirius. He wanted to be the one Sirius would look for to comfort him. Remus wanted to be the one holding Sirius and telling him how beautiful he was inside and out. That was the moment when Remus realised he had fallen in love with Sirius Black.

Remus read the last letter again, he then grabbed one of the other letters and compared the handwriting. The letter with Sirius’s name actually looked like it had been written by Sirius himself, but all the other letters were in a different handwriting. There were a couple of similarities, for example, the way Sirius always connected the letter ‘o’ with the letter that followed. Remus wondered if Sirius truly came up with a whole new handwriting for just these letters. Obviously, Remus loved the last letter the most. It was personal and really well, Sirius. He read it again and pressed the letter against his chest.

It wasn’t that much later when Remus heard three familiar voices coming from the common room. James, Sirius and Peter were rather loud. Remus held Sirius’s letter in hand, and he made his way downstairs. He really had no idea what he was going to say, but he just had to see Sirius right now. There were so many thoughts and questions rushing through his head right now. For example, Remus wondered why Sirius kept it all a secret, and for how long this had been going on. He arrived in the common room and immediately looked at Sirius who gave him a soft smile until the Black realised what Remus was holding in his hand. Sirius went pale and his eyes big, he turned his gaze away and avoided Remus’s eyes at all costs. Remus made his way over to Sirius and towered over the smaller male. James and Peter had stepped aside to see how this was going to end. A few other Gryffindor students, who were sitting in the common room as well, were watching everything happen. “Remus-” Sirius mumbled almost inaudibly, he still wasn’t meeting Remus’s eyes. The Black was too scared to see Remus’s reaction, what if there was hate in his eyes or disgust? He couldn’t have that, he could not lose Remus, but he was afraid that he in fact just had. There was a silence, no one said a word, not even the students who were just sitting there, no one. Sirius was about to say something else when he felt Remus’s soft hands cup his cheeks and press their lips together. It caught Sirius off guard, and he would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Remus catching him. Remus’s lips were soft against Sirius’s plump ones. It was truly a magical kiss. Sirius was a bit light-headed at the moment, and he wasn’t truly sure if that was because of the kiss they shared or because of the lack of oxygen as the kiss was pretty intense.

Several gasps could be heard around the common room when Remus initiated the kiss by pressing their lips together. Everyone had fallen silent, and they were watching the two males kiss, which was kind of awkward. It was pretty obvious that there was chemistry between the two, there always had been chemistry. Then someone started to wolf whistle at the two and people started clapping and cheering. There were some cheeky comments as well, but none of it mattered to the two kissing boys. They were in their own little world right now. All they knew at that moment was each other. They parted and stared each other in the eyes. “You’re in love with me?” Remus whispered against Sirius’s lip. “I am, very much,” Sirius replied and they kissed again. This kiss was a lot lighter than the last one, it was short but still romantic. “I am in love with you, Moony. I am so in love with you.”

1980

Dear Sirius Black,

Remember how and when we got together? You better do because I will never forgive you if you don’t. I thought it fitting to write you a letter for our three years anniversary. It was exactly this date that you wrote your last letter, a week before we got together. I know it might be a bit too soon, but I have something to ask you. Please don’t freak out, just consider it, think it through. That day, exactly a week from now (which is when I will give you this letter), when I read your letters I finally opened my eyes. I finally saw us together, and so did you. Our horizons met, love. Ever since that moment, you brought me nothing except love and light, all of that light will lead me into the darkest of nights, I am now able to fight those nights because I know that you will be by my side. I am happy and proud to be yours, Sirius, I really am. I know, this relationship wasn’t easy for us, you had trouble with your family because of this and you were afraid. To be honest with you, I was scared that one day you would see me for whom I think I am, and I’m still scared of that, but I also know that you love me. I know the scars we have, they will bleed, they will heal and open up again because that’s how life works. But I believe, Sirius, both of our hearts believe that we can get through all of those tough times because we can. I am sure of it. All of the stars will guide us home Sirius, you are my star, you’re my home.

I have something to ask you, Sirius, and please don’t freak out.

Yours for eternity,

Remus Lupin.

When Sirius looked up from the paper Remus was sat on one knee, holding a little box in one hand. “Sirius Orion Black III, will you marry me?”

It was this night, exactly three years ago that the moon and the stars finally aligned. No longer did they cry, they were finally together. After so many exchanged words and letters, tonight was the night that they truly became each other’s significant others. The moon and the stars, proud to be together after all they’ve been through.

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kinktae · 5 years

Text

bitchin’ || pt. 5 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 6k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: drunk sex, sober sex, fingering, handjob, sum tongue dick action, y/n has her first orgasm lol & JK getting a FAT ego about it

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART FIVE

“Man, I wish microwaveable popcorn was a thing when we were kids. Remember what a pain it was to make popcorn over the stove?”

You and Jungkook were sat up against the side of his bed, a bag of popcorn in between you.

“I once set an entire pot of kernels on fire when I was ten. The whole stovetop just whooshed into flames.”

You nodded at Jungkook’s words, “You know, that really doesn’t surprise me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook laughed.

“I always figured you were a chaotic child,” You mused, taking a swig from the bottle of vodka, “my question is… why were you allowed to use the stovetop unsupervised at ten years old? Where were your parents?”

“Lawyer parents, remember? I did whatever the hell I wanted.”

You frowned, “Well, what happened? Did you burn the house down?”

Jungkook took this moment to grab the bottle from you, taking a sip of his own.

“Hmm? Oh no, the maid just put it out, and I went upstairs to play Atari or something.” He shrugged. You rolled your eyes.

“You rich kids are annoying.”

Jungkook merely flashed you a smile, popping a kernel into his mouth as he chewed it languidly.

“Did you know that Francis Crick and James Watson didn’t actually discover the double helix shape of DNA?” You brought up suddenly, eyes wide.

“What?” Was all Jungkook could reply, too drunk to understand the sudden turn the conversation had taken.

“Yeah! They actually based their findings on a colleague's. Rosalind Franklin. Her images are what revealed DNA to be in the shape of a helix.”

Jungkook’s said nothing, his eyes quietly resting on you, clearly intoxicated.

You quirked up an eyebrow, “What?”

“Nothing you’re just… so lame.” He observed.

“Hey!”

“No, no, no. Lame but, like, in a cool way.”

“Was that meant to be a compliment? Because I’m still offended.” You deadpanned.

“Isn’t it interesting that even when drunk you’re still a nerd? Like does your brain ever shut off?” Jungkook continued, eyebrows furrowing as if your intelligence was indeed some unsolved mystery.

“Are you even listening to me, meathead? Rosalind Franklin discovered DNA’s shape yet those two dinguses got all the credit! How the hell is that fair?”

“Woahhhh�� that’s kinda bunk.” Jungkook’s eyes went round.

“Totally bunk!” You emphasized, throwing your hands up in disbelief.

For a moment, silence fell over the two, soaking in the injustice of it all.

Jungkook was the first to break the silence.

“Tell me about the best sex you’ve ever had.”

Your eyes flickered over to him, equal parts confused and surprised at where he had chosen to take the conversation.

Then again… this was Jungkook you were talking about.

“Mine was the night after prom in my car outside my date’s house.”

You hardly paid Jungkook’s confession any mind, too in your head to even absorb any additional information.

“Well, I’ve only ever been with Erik…” You explained vaguely, still trying to sort through all your sexual encounters with your ex.

“Okay, then what was the best sex you guys ever had?”

Tilting your head to the side, you furrowed your eyebrows.

It wasn’t like sex with Erik was terrible. You loved him and loved that you got to be intimate with him in that way. But as far as which time was the best… well, you supposed they were all pretty much the same.

“Maybe the night of my 18th birthday? It was the closest I ever came to–” You cut yourself off, your words falling from you before you could think about what it was you were about to reveal to Jungkook.

Jungkook's head cocked to the side, causing his hair to shift.

"Closest you came to what?"

“To, uh… an orgasm?” You admitted, a shy smile on your face.

“You’ve never orgasmed during sex?!”

Your hands flew out to cover Jungkook's gaping mouth, giggles filling the room.

“I mean… no, not really.”

“Not really?!” He let out a breath of disbelief.

"It's not like either of us knew what we were doing. We were each other's first time." You shrugged.

This answer didn't see to satiate him, however, as he shook his head, “Y/N, you really are missing out. You should make sure your next partners are better.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve just got a pool of people interested in me to pick from.”

The messy-haired boy scrunched up his nose, flashing you a look as if he was questioning your IQ.

“Of course, you do! Listen. Believe me when I say some guys dig that whole subtle yet sexy nerd thing you got going on.”

“Uh, thanks. I think?” You replied stiffly, staring down at the bag of popcorn that was growing increasingly empty. Was that Jungkook's doing or yours?

Your drunken curiosity was sated the second a handful of popcorn found your fake boyfriend's mouth.

“What about you?”

Jungkook paused at your words, turning to you in muddled confusion.

“Have I orgasmed during sex?” He frowned, mouth full of the buttery snack.

“No, you dickwad." You snickered, grabbing the bottle from his side, twisting back on the cap. "Are you into nerdy girls? Or do you only like girls who only like you once they think you've lost interest in them?”

It was a dig at Kiri, you knew it was, but quite frankly you had just enough alcohol in your system to not care. As far as your interaction with her went, she was not a nice person enough for you to even consider feeling bad.

“Is this your way of asking if I’d fuck you? Because the answer is a hard yes.”

You let out a laugh, lightly shoving Jungkook’s shoulder, ignoring how his breezy comment had made your stomach flip.

“I’m serious. I’m curious as to what kind of people you’re attracted to.”

“Honestly, I can't remember the last time I genuinely liked someone. I mean, I know when my dick likes someone but…”

Jungkook could see the confusion cross your face.

“Wait, what about Kiri? Don’t you like her?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course.” He shook his head as if to refocus his thoughts.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't understand why you want to get back with her so badly. She left you for your fraternity brother. I don't think your relationship is very healthy— for either of you." You confessed.

You had been thinking about this ever since the first day you met Jungkook; it was only just now that you had gotten the chance to tell him.

“There's a lot of history between us, Y/N. She's my best friend... or at least she was. I don't know. Things are different now, but it's hard just to call it quits after all this time."

For a split second, you wanted to ask if he even still loved her, but realizing it really didn't matter, you held your tongue.

"You guys look good together." You said instead. "She's hot, you're hot. You're both in Greek life..."

Had he been sober, Jungkook would have undoubtedly commented on the fact that you had called him hot, but instead, he just drunkenly nodded, murmuring a small word of agreement.

"Tell me about Erik." Jungkook spoke finally after the two of you fell silent.

You let your head fall back, resting against the bed.

"What about him?"

"Everything. How did you guys start dating? What was he like? Why did you guys break up?"

You let out a hum, bringing your knees to your chest.

"We were both in the biotech academy, although he went to a neighboring high school. We met at a chemistry competition, actually." You began, wrapping your arms around your shins.

"Ah, yes, the beginning to every dorky love story." Jungkook nodded, coaxing a soft chuckle from you.

"Yeah. You could say we looked good together too."

Jungkook shifted, bringing an arm up to place on the bed as he leaned into his side to get a better look at you.

"He was kind of perfect, you know. Charming, good looking, smart... like, really smart. The kind of smart that inspired me to work harder because, well, I really wanted to be a girlfriend he could be proud of."

It was strange to hear you talk like this. As far as Jungkook knew, everything you did was for yourself. Not in a selfish way but in a way that was empowering and self-governing; he couldn't really couldn't imagine you living any other way.

“So then why did you break up?” Jungkook asked, eating some more popcorn. "I mean, other than his inability to bring you to climax."

"He asked me to marry him."

Jungkook paused mid-chew.

"Woah, right after high school? That's crazy!"

You gave him a soft smile, "Actually, I said yes."

Jungkook’s mind was whirling. You had agreed to marry your high school sweetheart? The idea wasn’t super far fetched, certainly not in the town where the two of you were from, but it certainly didn’t feel like something you’d ever do.

You watched expectantly as Jungkook’s gaze fell onto your left hand’s ring finger. It was free of any kind of jewelry, however.

"Erik was a wonderful boyfriend. He used to shower me with compliments; said I was beautiful, funny, and all he could ever want, but, you know, he never once called me smart.”

You straightened up, waving a hand in front of you as you began to clarify what you meant.

“Obviously, I don’t need to be reminded that I’m smart. I’m confident in myself and my abilities. But it’s true, he never acknowledged any of my achievements.”

Jungkook’s expression softened. You had said it matter-of-factly, but he could imagine how hard that must have been for the person you loved not to take the time to recognize how hard you worked.

“At first I didn’t really mind all the sly comments and disinterested replies– if anything, it just propelled me to work harder; I just wanted to impress him. It didn’t matter in the end though. Because no matter how many extracurriculars I joined or how many tests I aced, it was never enough to interest him.”

“But he was so charming and otherwise a good boyfriend so I never really said anything. I loved him. So, I said yes.”

“But… you didn’t marry him.” Jungkook added. You nodded through a sigh.

"It was the day after he proposed, I had just found out I was granted my scholarship that would take me to college here, but instead of celebrating with me, he got upset. He didn’t understand why I was so insistent on going to college when he was going to become some bigshot doctor that make enough for both of us. He said he would take care of everything.” You recalled. "And I know that's all some people want to hear– that they'll be taken care of. But..."

"But not you." Jungkook said.

"I want to be able to take care of me. I want to be able to wake up every day and do something I love... and I want the person I love to be excited about that, too. To encourage me to follow my dreams. And as much as I loved Erik, I wasn’t willing to let all my hard work amount to nothing. I had something to prove to every teacher that doubted me, to my dad– to myself.”

Jungkook wished he could articulate all the thoughts that were running his head. He would tell you that he understood that you made the right decision. He wanted to say that Erik was an asshole for ever making you feel like you weren’t enough. But Jungkook was drunk and his heart was pounding too loud as he watched the way your breathing grew heavier, clearly somewhat emotional.

“Erik needed someone to depend on him, to sit at home and listen to his day, all while being smart enough to hold a conversation as long as it was about him and his achievements. Once I came to terms with that, I gave back the ring." You revealed.

Jungkook ran his tongue over his bottom lip, the surface dried out from the popcorn’s salt.

"How did that go?”

“Actually, surprisingly well.” You mused. “Don’t get me wrong, we were totally crying like idiots — we were each other’s first love after all — but he admitted that he was surprised I said yes in the first place. I think he really hoped I’d be the kind of wife he wanted, but, deep down, he knew that I just wasn’t that girl.”

“I think you were wrong about him.”

Turning your head over to the frat boy, you furrowed your brows together, “Huh?”

“You said he was some super-smart genius, right? I think you’re wrong. Only a moron would ask a girl like you to shrink yourself just so he could feel big.” Jungkook glowered.

You said nothing, bringing your chin to rest on top one of your knees as you stared at the suddenly angry boy beside you.

“If anything, Erik couldn’t cope with the fact that you were probably smarter than him. I know my man ego is frail, but god damn his was paper-thin. You’re formidable, Y/N. Completely and utterly capable of anything you set your mind to and anyone who gets scared off by that isn’t worth your fucking time.”

“Jungkook…” You muttered, a strange feeling in your stomach fluttering.

“I’m serious, nerd. You’re like… um… the sun!” Jungkook marveled, eyes growing full as the realization dawned on him.

“The sun?” You laughed.

“Yeah, like… you’re this bright, beautiful thing that seems like it’s here in front of me but is really light-years away.”

Jungkook was drunk, and although you were sure he was making more sense in his head, you couldn’t help but feel your face grow hot, unsure of how to react to his drunk analogy.

“You’re the sun, Y/N. You make the world turn for you. Never orbit for anyone else.”

And suddenly, you were kissing him, for no other reason other than you wanted to and that it felt like the right thing to do.

His hands found your waist, ushering you onto his lap so that he could kiss you easier, wasting no time in reciprocating. Gripping your thighs, he left out a sigh as your mouth found his neck.

“What are you doing, silly girl?” He cooed, causing your insides to squirm.

“Guess I’m also a frisky drunk.” You muttered into his neck, letting your tongue run against it.

“Yeah?” Jungkook hummed, letting his eyes fall shut.

“Well, I have drunkenly kissed Yara more times than I probably should.” You admitted, pulling away from him.

“And here I thought I was special. You’re a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Jungkook let out a dramatic scoff, hand slapping against the side of your thigh ever so lightly.

He was expecting a witty comment in response, or at least a drunken giggle. What he wasn’t expecting was the way you’re eyes were fixated on his revealed torso, a shy but unmistakably wanton expression on your face.

“What is it?”

Your eyes flashed back up to his in surprise.

“Tell me. If there’s something you want, you have to tell me so I can give it to you.”

“W-What?” You stammered.

“You’ve been ogling me ever since I walked into your dorm.” He continued coolly. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re indifferent towards me, because I know you’re not.”

He sat up suddenly, causing your ears to heat up as his face suddenly neared yours.

“So, if you want something, tell me.” He muttered lowly, one of his hands grabbing yours as he pressed it against his torso.

Biting your lip, you let your fingers run against the firm surface of his abs before, to both your and Jungkook’s surprise, your hand found the crotch of your fake lover’s sweats.

A sharp breath came tumbling from Jungkook’s lips as you began to palm over his already semi-hard cock. For a moment, Jungkook wondered if he had drunk himself stupid and that this was just an inebriated hallucination. The feeling of your mouth finding his collarbones told him very quickly that he was, in fact, still awake.

“This what you need, hm? Need my cock?”

You let your teeth nip at Jungkook’s hot skin, protesting against his mocking words. Your actions did nothing to deter the boy, however, as a low moan fell from him.

You could feel the way he had stiffened under your hand’s ministrations, thrilling the most primal part of you.

Fingering the waistband of his sweats, you let out a heavy breath, “This is wrong.”

This was extremely wrong. You should not be seconds away from taking the dick of your pretend boyfriend into your hand, especially when he was planning on going back to his ex. Speaking of which, Kiri was probably still somewhere downstairs.

“Morality sucks.”

You pulled away from Jungkook’s neck with eyes wide. He had a cocky smirk on his face, undoubtedly smug at the way he had quoted Glen Lantz just now. It was the kind of expression that any other occasion would summon a scoff from you but given the circumstances, you couldn’t help but return it back to him.

“Get on the bed. Lay down for me.” Jungkook ordered, causing your stomach to do a flip.

You gave him a timid nod before moving up from his lap.

You had hardly had your back on the bed before his mouth found yours, newfound desperation in his movements. You struggled to keep up with the kiss, too consumed in the feeling of his warm palm making it down the fabric of your sweater, running under it as he searched for the button of your pants.

With his tongue against your neck, his hand found slipped between your thighs, pressing against the wet patch of your underwear. You flinched, it had been so long since someone else had touched you like this.

“You okay?” He asked suddenly, pulling away from your neck. He wanted to make sure it was okay to touch you like this.

“Yeah. Just been a while.” You confessed, face hot.

And just like that, his touch lightened, trailing up and down your clothed slit carefully. It was meant to be gentle but his feather-like touch caused your hips to jerk, the feeling trying you crazy. You could hardly stay still as he began to kiss you, fingers slowly quickening in speed.

You tugged at his hair, knowing now the way he liked it and you preen with pride as it made him rut against your thigh.

Whining as he suddenly sank two fingers into you, Jungkook broke the kiss, moving to sit upon his knees to get a better look at you as he began to fuck into you.

You were certainly a sight to see, eyes struggling to stay open as you lost yourself to the feeling, small cries escaping you as he rolled over your clit. His free hand was gripping your thigh, enjoying the way it was shaking under his touch.

As much as you wanted to maintain yourself, your hips had a mind of their own, rolling up to meet every thrust, desperate for his touch. Jungkook’s eyes never left you and it wasn’t long before it became too much.

“Jungkook... stop staring at me.” You whined, finally.

“Sorry, you’re just so sensitive. I like watching your reactions.” Jungkook admitted lowly, chuckling as you moaned in response to a particularly hard thrust.

Heat rocketed up to your neck, forcing you to look away.

“S-Shut up, I hate you.”

“Considering how wet you are for me, I have a hard time believing that, baby.”

“Dammit, just fuck me already.” You begged.

As much as the thought of coming undone on his fingers appealed to you, you would be damned if you left this party without his dick going inside of you. You didn’t know if you’d ever get another chance like this one and the alcohol in your system would be the perfect excuse for doing this in the first place.

Jungkook felt his balls tightened, the idea alone exciting him.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He teased dryly, moving back in between your legs, hand gripping the edge of his shirt to pull it over his head.

“Wait!” You cried out before you could stop yourself, immediately wishing you could take back the exclamation.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jungkook worried, eyes growing wide in concern.

“N-No, leave it on.”

Dammit, dammit!

It slipped out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop yourself.

You had a massive crush on Johnny Depp, so the second Jungkook pulled up to your dorm dressed as Glenn Lantz you knew you were done for. The idea of Glenn Lantz fucking you had you embarrassingly excited and now Jungkook knew that.

You were expecting Jungkook to laugh or make some slick comment that would inevitably convince you out of letting him put his dick inside you, but to your surprise, he merely smirked, first wrapping around his cock as he lead himself to your wet entrance.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he sunk into you, the stretch stealing a breath from you. Shutting your eyes, you felt as he finally bottomed out; it had been so long since you had felt this full and you almost forgot the feeling.

Jungkook cursed into your neck, kissing the skin there to calm himself down. You felt so good wrapped around him but the last thing he needed was him cumming early and you thinking he was a one pump chump.

Your soft whines and the way your hips were moving into his was his sign to start moving, clearly adjusted to him inside you.

You should have expected that Jungkook would be good at his, but the way he instantly found the right pace and angle caught you off guard, robbing you of a moan.

“Fuck.”

You sounded so pretty like this and Jungkook’s chest swelled at the thought that your sounds were for him.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and wet for me.” He grunted.

Gripping the back of his neck, you brought Jungkook into a kiss, missing the way his tongue tasted against yours. The kiss didn’t last for long as an unfamiliar feeling formed inside you, causing you to shut your eyes close.

Jungkook hardly noticed, his cock was pounding in you as he chased after the way you cried out his name.

“Jungkook– ah!” You lost footing of your voice, momentarily distracted by a particularly hard thrust.

“Ah, fuck. W-Wait, stop.”

Jungkook froze at your words, licking at his lips as he pulled away from your neck, stilling his hips.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, eyes running over you to see if he had somehow hurt you. Your breathing was labored and you were biting down onto your bottom lip, hair fanned out on either side and if Jungkook weren’t so concerned, he would’ve taken a moment to admire just how beautiful you were like this.

“Y-Yes, I’m… I just...” You breathed, hips jerking up into Jungkook’s.

The action didn’t go unnoticed by him, of course, and it wasn’t until he realized just how tightly you were wrapped around his cock that he understood exactly what was wrong.

“Do you need to cum?”

The question alone elicited a whimper from you and within a second, Jungkook’s thumb found your clit.

A high pitch moan left your swollen lips and Jungkook took that as his cue to rock back into you.

“You’re just so wound up, huh? Wanna come all over my cock, is that right?” Jungkook was at your neck now, tasting the salt on your skin as he whispered filth into it.

“Jungkook— fuck!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m making a mess of little pussy of yours, aren’t I? No wonder you’re so desperate to cum. You need it so bad, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes.” Was your weak reply, your heavy breaths nearly swallowing up your answer entirely.

“You’re okay, ah, I’ve got you, baby. I’ll take care of you. Just relax and think about how nice my cock is stretching you out.” Jungkook grunted, his own orgasm starting to catch up with him.

A broken came tumbling out at the sheer intensity of stimulation, especially as Jungkook grabbed on of your thighs and pushed it up to your chest, allowing for a deeper angle.

“Doin’ so good. So good for me.” He rasped out, so close to cumming.

It was Jungkook’s words of praise that finally sent you over the edge, back arching against the bed as white spots filled your vision. You could only vaguely make out the feeling of Jungkook pulling out of you to release his own climax onto your stomach, pulling up your sweater just in time to save it from the ungodly cum stains.

You flopped back onto the bed with a huff, eyes wide and still shaking from the aftershocks. Jungkook was rubbing at your thighs encouragingly, watching the way you slowly came down from your orgasm.

For a moment neither of you said a word, pants and heavy breathing filling the air instead.

“Holy shit.” You finally broke the silence.

That was what you had been missing out on all these years?! You felt robbed.

“Hey... Just curious but was that your first orgasm like ever?” Jungkook asked innocently. Your reaction was just so earnest and innocent and although he knew your ex never made you cum, he wondered if even by your hand you had never climaxed before.

You met his eyes briefly before turning your head to the side, clearly embarrassed.

“...Yes.”

“Really? So when you touch yourself, you don’t–”

“I already said yes, didn’t I?” You snapped, bottom lip jutting out slightly. Jungkook didn’t care much for your tone, but given the circumstances, he let it slide.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve taken my time– eaten you out until you came or something.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” You answered vaguely, wishing more than anything for the topic of conversation to shift.

To your surprise, Jungkook’s hand found your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Can I kiss you?”

He didn’t know why he felt the sudden urge to but he just knew he wanted to.

His request came as a surprise to, considering the two of you had just done a fair bit more than just kissing. You nodded automatically, humming in content as his mouth found yours for a kiss that was far less rushed than previous ones.

The two of you exchanged the gesture of affection lazily, Jungkook’s fingertips brushing against your waist as your breathing slowed.

“I'm sure you don’t wanna hear this but knowing I’m the only person who has ever made you cum has inflated my ego like you wouldn’t believe.” Jungkook confessed as he broke the kiss, causing you to scoff.

“Right, because I’m the reason your ego is the larger than our fucking solar system.”

Jungkook’s expression fell flat, eyes turning cold as you began to giggle.

“Bite me, nerd.” He glared despite the way the sides of his mouth turned up at the sound of your laughter, moving to kiss you once more.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“So...” Yara began, hands clasped together in front of her. “How was the party?”

Yara, Jungkook and you were sat at the library, where the three of you had planned to meet after the party to catch up on some work.

What was unexpected, however, as the way the two of you had taken a seat across from Yara with guilty expressions and far more hickeys than she had recalled counting on either of you.

The moment you averted your eyes as she faced you, she knew you were keeping something from her and she already was playing out a couple of scenarios that might have gone down at the party.

“Good.” Jungkook answered uneasily. Yara hummed, locking her eyes onto the squirming boy.

You had known Yara for a long time and had become somewhat immune to her intimidating ways, but Jungkook had only known Yara for a month or so. Hardly enough time to build up immunity.

She suppressed a smirk. Target acquired.

“That’s good.” Yara said, glare unmoving.

If Yara really were the supernatural creature you sometimes insisted she was, she would’ve heard the way Jungkook’s pulse quickened, fists under the table clenching and unclenching as he fought the urge to flee.

Jungkook felt his stomach churn as she quirked up an eyebrow at him, mouth pressed into a straight line.

“Y/N and I had sex—”

“Jungkook!” You turned to him in disbelief.

“Holy shit!”

Jungkook’s face scrunched up in regret, sinking back into his chair as your best friend’s jaw dropped.

“We agreed we weren’t gonna tell her.” You pouted.

“Shit, I know, I’m sorry but did you see the way she was looking at me?!” He cried, a finger coming up to point at the petite girl sitting across the table. “That stare isn’t human.”

“I can’t believe this! You guys did the nasty and weren’t gonna tell me?” Yara gaped.

You flinched, glancing around to see if you were disturbing any neighboring students. “I was gonna tell you… eventually.”

“It’s like she was in my head. Like she could see inside me– all my thoughts, my secrets, my innermost feelings...” Jungkook muttered, hands coming up to press against his temples.

Yara continued on, ignoring the traumatized boy. “I’m hurt, Y/N. Not as a manager, but as your best friend. That is totally not something we would ever keep from each other.”

“I was afraid that when I told you, you were gonna think this changed things!” You urged.

You really had planned on telling Yara, you just didn’t want to do it with Jungkook in the room. Yara already seemed to have this preconceived notion that you were trying to actually date Jungkook and the last thing you needed was that idea confusing him.

“Well, does it?” Yara pressed.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered over to you suddenly, equally as curious as Yara to hear your response.

“...No. No, of course not.” You shook your head.

“Kiri’s definitely pissed.” Jungkook cleared his throat, eager to change the subject. “Y/N put on quite the performance last night.”

The sides of Yara’s mouth curled up wolfishly.

“Oh, I bet she did.” She mused suggestively causing you to blush.

“Not like that, you nympho.”

“Did you guys talk to her?” Yara inquired, ignoring you.

You nodded.

“Is she the worst? Do we hate her?” Yara squinted, leaning in close as she directed your words only at you.

A nervous giggle left you, sparing Jungkook a cautious glance. She was his ex-girlfriend, after all...

“Uh, she’s… I mean, you know, I’m the girl who is dating her ex so...”

“I see.” Yara picked up on your hesitancy to speak ill of Kiri as she sent you a slow nod, immediately understanding what you were trying to say.

Kiri sucked.

Jungkook was sat in his chair, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he watched the girls’ interaction, as if something was being said that he couldn’t quite hear.

“Also... She’s, uh, currently dating Eunwoo.” You told Yara.

Your best friend blinked, silence falling over her.

“Yara?”

“Good for her.” She perked up almost forcibly. “Let her put up with his annoying ass.”

Yara could see the way your expression had turned dubious as if you didn’t believe her nonchalant act.

Yara turned up her nose defensively, “What?”

“No, nothing. I was just expecting more of a reaction is all.” You waved your hands dismissively.

“Pshh, I don’t care where Eunwoo is getting his dick wet.”

“Are you sure–”

“Let’s do some homework, yeah?” Yara cut you off with a tight smile that you didn’t fail to miss.

You watched as your best friend reached for her textbook and threw it open, hardly paying you any further mind. Looking over to Jungkook, you found him already turned your way, his face twisted in mild concern.

It wasn’t something you had ever brought up with Jungkook – or Yara for that matter – but you always had a sneaking suspicion that Yara cared more about Eunwoo than she let on. As much as she insisted that Eunwoo’s feelings had scared her off, a part of you wondered if Yara’s own feelings didn’t have a role in that fear as well.

Offering Jungkook a shrug, you too turned back to your work laid out on the table in front of you.

A few minutes passed through; you were rewriting your notes when you experimentally spared Yara a glance, only to see a deep furrow on her face. Something was clearly bothering her.

“Yara?”

The girl in question slammed her pencil down, opening her mouth immediately, “Not that I give a rat’s ass about Eunwoo – because I don’t – but I can’t believe he’s dating someone already.”

“How long were you guys together?” Jungkook wondered.

“Like three months.” Yara told him through a frown.

Jungkook hummed, “Well, when did you guys break up?”

“A week after school started.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to move on?” He offered, unsure of how to comfort her.

Taking in your best friend’s sour expression, you bit down on your lip.

“Yara, are you... jealous?” You assumed.

Immediately, Yara’s eyes found yours, green eyes growing wide.

“Jealous? Hah! My cold, dead heart doesn’t know jealous. What I know is that Eunwoo is a fucking idiot.” She scoffed. “This is the kid who called me every day for two weeks after we broke up professing his love for me. How is he just suddenly over me and dating someone else? That someone being Jungkook’s bitchy ass ex?”

Yara glanced over to Jungkook as if an afterthought, “No offense, jockstrap.”

“You did not just call me jockstrap.” Jungkook deadpanned.

“Hey now, Kiri’s not a bitch, I never said that.” You defended weakly. Yara flashed you a look. She had known you for too long not to be able to read in between your words.

“You really are such a class act, Y/N. Truly admirable. However, you should know that if she throws even one snarky comment my way, I’m knocking her teeth in.”

“Yara!”

“I’m serious. It’ll be lights out for Miss Kiri.” Yara insisted, intertwining her fingers and stretching them out in front of her. A laugh escaped you against your better judgment.

“In that case, remind me not to let you out of my sight if she comes to Y/N’s event.” Jungkook laughed nervously, unsure of just how serious the small but frightening girl was being.

Yara’s looked over to you with wide eyes.

“So, does that mean...?”

You perked up in your seat. You nearly had forgotten.

“Oh, yeah! It’s happening! I’m throwing my event!” You announced excitedly.

“Holy shit, finally! That’s amazing, Y/N, congrats!”

“Well, it’s not set in stone yet–”

“Nah, Tae’s true to his word. If he says he’ll help, then you can count on him.” Jungkook reassured.

“Who’s Tae?” Yara cocked her head.

“My frat brother and head of Beta Tau Sigma’s finance committee. Y/N pitched her idea to him last night and he agreed to arrange funding for the event.” Jungkook went on to explain. A smile found your face as you recalled the interaction.

"This Tae guy sounds bitchin’.” Yara approved with a nod.

“Yeah, he really is like a brother to me.” Jungkook smiled.

Suddenly, you wondered if Taehyung was who Jungkook went to for advice. Was Taehyung his Yara? You really never gave much thought on who Jungkook’s friends were but, strangely enough, the idea of meeting them intrigued you. Especially if they were all as lovely as Tae.

You watched in silence as Jungkook and Yara continued on with their conversation, a warm feeling falling over you at the sight of them getting along and enjoying each other’s company. Even if Jungkook was just your fake boyfriend, the thought that he and your best friend and could be friends made you happy. Maybe foolishly so but happy nonetheless. Selfishly, you began to wonder if there was any way the two of you could stay like this after he got back with Kiri.

“I dunno, jockstrap. I just think The Shining is boring.” Yara shrugged.

The subject had somehow shifted in the time you had been spacing out, falling victim to your thoughts. Horror movies now seemed to be the topic of interest.

Jungkook shook his head defiantly.

“Okay, firstly, psychological horror is meant to be slow-paced and secondly, call me jockstrap one more time and I’ll rip up your John Cusack posters and force-feed you the scraps.”

Yara let out a cold laugh, crossing her arms over her chest, “Bold of you to assume I don’t already want John Cusack down my throat.”

A laugh came tumbling out of you, taking in Jungkook’s horrified expression, not expecting such a vulgar response.

Yeah. Maybe having Jungkook around permanently wouldn’t be so bad.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You had made it very clear to Jungkook that the two of you having sex was a one-time thing; your copulation had been a momentary lapse of judgment fueled by the way alcohol made you both irrationally horny.

So the second Jungkook’s fingers found the skin on your thigh, you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Meathead.” Was your warning.

“What? Your skin is soft.” He muttered, not taking his eyes off his book. “I’m not doing anything wrong…”

Your teeth found the plush of your lip as you fought the urge to press your thighs together.

You and Jungkook were sat upon your bed days after the Halloween party. Inviting him over to study had been your idea, trying to make a point to Yara that the two of you could go back to normal after sleeping with one another.

For the most part, things had been normal. Sure, maybe you could argue that Jungkook stared at you a little more than you were used to but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t just pin on the fact that that boy often spaced out. Your face just happened to be where he liked to focus on it seemed.

So when while studying his palm found the top of your thigh, you paused your reading, glancing over at the boy cautiously only to discover him, seemingly, emerged in the book of his own.

It wasn’t until his fingers suddenly began trailing up and down your thigh, rubbing circles into the supple flesh that you realized the gesture wasn’t near as innocent as you initially assumed.

“Right?” Jungkook cooed, attention suddenly on you as he trailed his fingers further down your thigh than you should have allowed.

Your ears felt hot.

As much as you wanted to push his hand away and stop his ministrations here, another part of you was replaying the way the same handheld and touched you the night of the party in your head.

You met Jungkook’s eyes; he wasn’t even bothering to suppress his smirk that cocky bastard.

A small sigh found you as his fingers discovered your inner thigh, dangerously close to where your panties were dampening underneath your pajama shorts.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“N-No, nothing wrong.” You stuttered quietly, opposite leg rising up to bend at the knee to allow Jungkook’s hand a point of entry.

God, this was way more embarrassing when you were sober. You weren’t some lust-driven sex hungry animal, you could easily resist his advances if you wanted to. But you didn’t want to. You had gone two years without having sex and you’d be lying if you didn’t think back to that night you shared with Jungkook often.

Your thoughts were interrupted, breath hitching as you felt Jungkook’s slender fingers slipping underneath your shorts.

“You’re a strange girl, Y/N. You like to pretend like I’m just apart of the contract yet here you are. Letting me touch you like this.” Jungkook hummed, fingers trailing up and down between your thighs, lightly running against your clothed core.

You let out a whimper, handing coming around to wrap itself around Jungkook’s wrist, urging him to apply more pressure.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” He mocked. You opened your mouth to reply when he found your panty clad clit, effectively silencing you.

“W-Wait, Yara’s in her room.” You hiccuped, hips jerking forward as his thumb singled out your clit, rubbing against it.

“Oh, how rude of us. Should we go knock and ask if she wants to join?” Jungkook teased, eliciting a scoff from you.

“God, you’re so–”

Your mouth shut itself closed, biting back the moan that threatened to make its way out as Jungook sank his fingers into you.

“Fuck.” Jungkook muttered, preening in the way you felt. So wet. So tight. And all for him.

His eyes moved from the sight of his hand fucking itself into you to your profile. Your eyebrows were furrowed, face scrunching up whenever he curled his fingers up into you a certain way. He could see the way the muscles in your jaw clenched and unclenched, clearly holding back some of your more lewd sounds in fear that your roommate might hear.

He’d have to do this again whenever Yara wasn’t home. He’d love to hear the way you’d whimper his name.

“That feel good?”

Jungkook was beside himself, he knew he should be keeping it down but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear you– the way your voice would shake and stutter deliciously.

“So good.” You whined lowly, head turning to meet his eyes.

Jungkook was definitely too good at this. He had two fingers rocking into you skillfully, slowing down only to turn his attention back onto your throbbing clit. Your shorts and underwear felt damp, slick with your arousal and you knew you’d have to change the sheets underneath you.

“Can I, ah... can I touch you?” You asked through several uneven breaths. You felt the sudden need to touch him– to make him feel as good as he was making you feel. “Please.”

“So needy for my cock, huh? Even when I’m not about to fuck you, too.” He licked his lips, hand coming over his crotch to palm at it.

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead, baby.”

Jungkook let himself relax back against the way, cock twitching in anticipation as you clumsily reached out to take his already hard cock from his pants.

And so that’s how the two of you found yourselves, hands down each other’s pants, voices hushed as you pleasured each other in secret like a pair of desperate teenagers.

Even as you both began to shake with stimulation, your hands didn’t stop, both of you set on getting each other off.

Jungkook felt so hot and heavy in your hand; you didn’t get the chance to fully take in his fucked out expressions last time but now that you were watching the way his jaw went slack and low, drawn-out groans fell from him, you couldn’t help but think he looked so attractive this way, hips rocking up to meet his fingers as you let yourself get off to the thought that you were making him feel this good.

Jungkook was in absolute bliss.

Your chest was rising and falling lightly, your bottom lip held hostage between your teeth innocently as your hand pumped his fat cock. He knew you were trying your hardest to stay quiet but the way your eyes were watery and small mews escaped you sporadically spurred him on, letting himself be noisier than you probably would have liked.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, baby. Making such a mess of your sheets. Fucking messy girl.” Jungkook cooed between shaky breaths of his own, obviously just as close to climax as you were.

Suddenly, a cry fell from your lips and the hand Jungkook had placed around yours to help in pumping his increasingly hot shaft quickly relocated itself to cover your mouth, catching the rest of your lewd noises as you finally came around his fingers.

“Atta girl. You did so well.” Jungkook praised, your eyes wet as you rode out the last few waves of your orgasm.

You were shaking; this orgasm had hit you hard and you didn’t know if you would ever get used to this feeling. You hoped not.

Jungkook pressed a kiss against your cheek affectionately and before you could give yourself a minute to even out your breathing, you pulled away from him, repositioning yourself between his knees.

You placed a tentative lick against the glistening tip of his cock, eyes locked on his as he continued to jerk himself off. He grunted, moving his prick closer towards your face as you let the flat of your tongue run up the length of him.

“Wanna taste you. Cum on my tongue, yeah?” You purred as you pulled your lips off his tip, a small pop sounding out.

Jungkook nearly choked, swallowing the sob of a response he nearly gave you. You were so fucking beyond hot like this. He hadn’t heard you speak so outwardly filthy before and all he could think about was how your words would sound if you were choking around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, open your mouth.”

You obliged greedily as he tightened his grip around himself, his abdomen tightened and hand stilled, a hot white strip of cum landing on your tongue. Like the good girl Jungkook groaned out you were, you stayed open-mouthed in front of him obediently until he was finished.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath, tucking himself back into his pants as you moved back to take your place beside him, wiping at your mouth.

“Well. That was fun.” You grinned shyly, suddenly giddy.

“Mm.” Jungkook agreed, thumb coming up to wipe away your cheek, where some of his cum had found itself. Your mouth opened on its own accord, tongue sticking out for Jungkook to clean his thumb with. You didn’t particularly care for the taste but you enjoyed the way his eyes turned a shade darker as he watched you swallow his cum.

"I don’t think the contract mentioned orgasms.” Jungkook smirked as you released his thumb.

“I say we let it slide.” You shrugged, leaning into him casually.

“You think?”

“Totally. Think of it as... a bonding activity.” You joked, resting your chin on his shoulder, peering up through your lashes.

“Damn, we’re really committed to this fake dating thing, huh.”

You laughed in the way that you hated, but Jungkook loved; it was loud and abrupt, but it genuine, and it was you.

“What can I say, I’m a method actor.” You sighed dramatically, causing Jungkook to grin before pressing a kiss to your nose, simply because he liked the way it always seemed to make you smile.

6K notes · View notes

fromthefishbowl · 4 years

Text

10 italian songs that are terribly horny

Kind of a sequel of this post I wrote about the three Italian songs every Italian knows without fail, here comes another in the same vein and, as you might guess from the title of the post, they all are horny.

Because there’s absolutely no need to title your fic about Nicky losing his virginity after a Hozier song, when the Italian music scene of the 1970s has already blessed us with Cristiano Malgioglio!

Beware that this list features: threesomes, implied choking, implied masturbation, lengthy descriptions of dicks, and a whole lot of “dying”.

So, if you’re new to the Italian music scene, I bet you now have two questions: who is Malgioglio, and why is that “dying” in between quotes?

Cristiano Malgioglio is an Italian songwriter who has been working in the music industry since the early Seventies. Now known mostly for his flamboyant style and white strand of hair in his otherwise completely black head, he was a close friend of Fabrizio de Andrè, who was actually the one who introduced him to the music world. He has written a lot of songs that are LGBT+ themed and has always been very open about his sexuality, to the point that he has never even felt the need of coming-out. Out of the ten songs here presented, he has written three of them, and one of them is about one of his boyfriends.

As the censorship didn’t allow for song lyrics to be too explicit, songwriters and singers had found a way around it: rather than saying “coming” or “orgasming”, they would go with “dying”, which was a lot more elegant and could be inserted in literally every song without the censors being able to complain. And, trust me, there’s a lot of dying.

Here is the list, from the least horny to the most horny.

Chi Non Lavora (1970), by Adriano Celentano

Link to lyrics and translation here.

Commonly called Autunno Caldo (Hot Autumn), the workers strike that begun in 1969 and dragged itself into the August 1970 greatly influenced this piece (but for all the wrong reasons). Workers were demanding safer working conditions, which had been completely ignored up until that point. As the days went on and the more people joined the protests, the police got more and more violent, to the point that they had begun shooting people on sight. This caused a huge uproar from the protestors, and when the voice that people had been shot and harmed by the law enforcement, even more workers and even students joined the fight. Through a year of strikes, they forced the Italian government to create a new set of laws that would protect both workers and students.

The song mocks this movement: the singer complains about the fact that, since he is on a strike two days out of three, he cannot give his wife enough money and therefore she’s going on a strike too and won’t have sex with him. Basically this song is nothing but the woes of a privileged, extremely wealthy man who thinks that people protesting for the rights of a safe work environment is inopportune and stupid.

The only reason why I included this song is because “Chi non lavora non fa l’amore” (Those who don’t work don’t make love) is still very much used to this day. If you want a piece of media that actually explores the protests and the work environment of the time, I suggest watching La Classe Operaia va in Paradiso (The Working Class goes to Heaven), a movie from 1971.

10 Ragazze per Me (1969), by Lucio Battisti

Link to lyrics and translation here.

Lucio Battisti is a national treasure and if I’ll ever do more of these, he’s surely going to end up in more of them. Whereas De Andrè would write more traditional music and focus on the lyrics, Battisti’s music was a lot more danceable and his lyrics a lot lighter, usually focusing on loneliness and heartbreaks rather than social issues.

In this song, the protagonist is bragging about how he wants ten girls for himself, all for different reasons (one because she knows how to dance, the other because she’s a virgin, that other one because she has been with everybody but him). It is soon revealed, however, that the only reason why he’s doing it is because he’s still thinking about a very specific girl who broke his heart.

Remembering the note above, peep that “And red lips to die upon”.

Gelato al Cioccolato (1979), by Pupo

Link to lyrics and translation here.

First song written by Cristiano Malgioglio and also the one about his ex! And yes, it was sung by another man, but... oh, well. The lyrics are the same.

I feel like the only thing I need to say, about this song, is to quote it directly: “Chocolate ice cream, sweet and a little salty”. And that’s it, because the subtext is right there and it’s impossible to miss what it implies.

What I think should be added is the fact that the singer had absolutely no idea of what the song was about. Like none. It was only in 2007 that Malgioglio told him that he had been inspired to write it after spending a torrid summer in Tunisia, where he had gotten a boyfriend with whom he’d often get ice cream.

Carlo Martello Ritorna dalla Battaglia di Poitiers (1967), by Fabrizio de Andrè

Link to lyrics and translation here.

Translating this song absolutely murdered me: Paolo Villaggio, one of De Andrè’s best friends and an extremely important figure in Italian entertainment history, wrote it to play over Middle Ages sounding music, so the words chosen and the way sentences are structured are reminiscing of that time, and it was incredibly hard to find English words that matched.

This said, it’s possibly one of De Andrè’s most light-hearted songs (probably because he and Villaggio wrote it while their wives were giving birth to their sons), even if it does mention social issues.

King Charles Martel comes home from Poitiers but has lost the key to his wife’s chastity cage, so he doesn’t even go home before looking for another girl that can quench his thirst. He sees a beautiful maiden taking a bath and, seduced, convinces her to have sex with him. It is only when he has finished that she reveals that she’s actually a prostitute and now he has to pay her, but he runs away before doing so (but still after having complained about the rising prices).

The lyrics of this song were censored and fought against by the censorship so much that, even to this day, records with the uncensored version are extremely difficult to find.

Una Carezza in un Pugno (1968), by Adriano Celentano

Lyrics and translation here.

Yes, another Celentano song. I don’t like him either, it’s just that we cannot get rid of him for some reason.

Anyways, here we begin to get into hotter waters, as this song is about a man asking his girlfriend to think of him while she masturbates. Of course, since he cannot be left out of the question, he will think of her while he jerks off too.

Basically, unlike what a first read might make you think, the “fist” he makes while thinking of her is not because he wants to beat her up.

Il Triangolo (1978), by Renato Zero

Lyrics and translation here.

Renato Zero is another extremely flamboyant personality of the Italian music scene, and “Il Triangolo” is one of the songs of his that are best known.

As the title may suggest, this song is about a threesome. The protagonist goes on a date with their boyfriend and finds out that he has brought a second man, with the intention of convincing said protagonist to have a threesome. Although at first they need a little convincing, the protagonist then agrees to it and finds out they enjoy it a lot, to the point of coming to the conclusion that “Geometry is not a crime”!

Kobra (1980), by Donatella Rettore

Lyrics and translation here.

This song is about dicks, there’s no way around it and there’s nothing else to say. The singer sees a certain man and thinks about his dick, getting wet and fantasizing about the many things she could do with said dick. That’s it.

Pensiero Stupendo (1978), by Patty Pravo

Lyrics and translations here.

Second threesome song!

Unlike “Il Triangolo”, this song is a lot more subtle. It’s clear what the singer is talking about, but the lyrics are not as on the nose and leave more to the audience to feel it, rather than hearing it through words.

The song begins with the three people part of the threesome that are already doing it, and are still doing it by the time the song ends. It’s not about the act in and on itself, but more about the sensations it brings.

Ancora ancora ancora (1978), by Mina

Lyrics and translation here.

Second song written by Malgioglio!

Mina is probably one of the best known Italian singers, as her voice is said to be one of the best in recorded history and has an impressive rage of three octaves, so it really says something, the fact that this piece is so difficult that even her voice broke while holding a note (in an incredible way that only gives it character, but still).

The lyrics play with the fact that in Italian the word “ancora” can be translated and understood as “still”, “again”, and “more”. I couldn’t really give it justice in the translation, but it’s as if she was saying “Your hands still”, “Your hands again”, and “More of your hands” at the same time, and this kind of logic is repeated for every “ancora” she sings.

Even if the lyrics are suggestive, what was censored in this case was the video (the one linked with the song), as the close shots of the singer’s face, and especially of her mouth, were considered to be too sensual to be freely aired.

L’importante è Finire (1975), by Mina

Lyrics and translation here.

Third and last piece written by Malgioglio!

The story behind this song is a little nebulous, but I have read that apparently Malgioglio wrote it for Dori Ghezzi, De Andrè’s wife, but that that project never came to life and, in the meantime, he had managed to meet Mina, and had tried to get her to sing it. But... not sure if this story is directly related to the song in question or not.

Anyways, even for this piece it’s impossible to escape it’s meaning, to the point that, even if it didn’t contain any forbidden words, it was censored anyways for weeks, forbidding radios to air it and Mina to sing it on TV. However, people were so eager to listen to it that it still managed to climb the charts and was, eventually, allowed on air.

#italian sources #italian songs #sources for tog writers

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seyesnyl · 4 years

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Examining the history of queer comics in the US

As previously mentioned, I am interested in creating graphic novels or comics during my practice as an illustrator. As a Nigerian, I also wish to include Nigerian elements in my comics and social commentary about the state of my home country. I want to comment on the injustices being faced by minority groups in tasteful ways in both metaphorical - like some of my favorite superhero comics- and literal as comic journalism. A particular social injustice I am interested in that the Nigerian government seems unwilling to budge on is its treatment of LGBTQIA+ people.

Considering the laws set in place against LGBTQIA people in Nigeria, a graphic novel about the situation will be controversial. I am intrigued to research how entertainment media (specifically, comics) navigated representing queer issues and topics in other countries that previously had unfavorable laws and attitudes towards queer people but have changed over time

The focus for this post will be the United States of America with a look at the correlation between the developments in the representation of queerness in comics and other mass media and the change in the country’s attitudes towards queer people.

In 1954, major U.S. publishers formed the Comics Magazine Association of America and its censorship arm, the Comics Code Authority (CCA 1954). This has been said to be in response to concerns over the explicit violence and sexual themes in depictions of superheroes (Bramlett, Cook and Meskin, 2016). The sexual themes that seemed queer in these comics were largely sub-textual and highlight the prejudice and paranoia against queer possibilities like what the Nigerian government currently emulates. This act of censorship brought to a halt any subtle references to gender nonconformity and same-sex attraction in mainstream comics.

Because of the restrictions in mainstream publishing, queer comic strips started to appear in underground comics and adult magazines in the 1960s. Chute (2008) talks about the rise of underground comics during this period as a reaction to the censorious content code that debilitated the mainstream industry and describes them as an influential cultural vehicle, challenging and arresting because they meditated on the violation of taboo. According to Murphy (2014), the world’s first gay comic strip was arguably Harry Chess: That Man from A.U.N.T.I.E., (Fig. 01) published from 1965 to ’66. However, other scholars like McGurk (2018), have pointed out earlier presences of queer comics - even though subliminal- like Lucy and Sophie Say Goodbye (Fig. 02) which was published weekly in newspapers in 1905, written and drawn by an unidentified artist. In the same decade as Harry Chess, Tuoko Laaksonen illustrated and released another popular gay comic series titled 'Kake', under the pseudonym, Tom of Finland.

(Fig 01) Harry Chess That Man from A.U.N.T.I.E. https://glreview.org/article/the-lives-and-times-of-harry-chess/

(Fig. 02) Lucy and Sophie Say Goodbye, May 21, 1905. Chicago Tribune.

Unlike Lucy and Sophie Say Goodbye, which could be interpreted as an exaggerated parody of women's social behavior, Harry Chess and Kake were inherently sexual and left little for subtext. Murphy (2014) describes the publication of Harry Chess as a key shift in gay publications and gay politics, and Ajuan Mance in The Routledge Companion to books noted that the explicit sex in strips of the two comics “created both a space and a demand for broader portrayals of gay men’s lives”. (Bramlett, Cook and Meskin, 2016).

To provide context for where the United States was in laws concerning queer rights in the ’60s, Illinois had just become the first U.S. state to decriminalize homosexuality by repealing its sodomy laws, and several milestone protests including the Stonewall Riot occurred during the decade The Supreme Court had also ruled in favor of an LGBT magazine when a suit was filed against them after the U.S. Postal Service and FBI declared the magazine obscene material. (Milestones in the American Gay Rights Movement | American Experience | PBS, 2021). There had been little progress in legal rights compared to the country’s present status, but queer Americans were visibly fighting for them.

The late 1970s and early 1980s saw the next wave of queer comics like Wendel, It’s a Gay Life, Leonard and Larry, Poppers and Chelsea Boys, which were all published in gay magazines. These comics reflected their primarily gay male readership in that the characters “attended gay pride celebrations, shopped at LGBTQ bookstores, and responded to the AIDS crisis, the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), and Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell, all while falling in and out of love.” (Bramlett, Cook and Meskin, 2016).

It was not until about 28 years later in Marvel’s Captain America Vol. 1 #270 (1982) that either of the large mainstream comics publishers (Marvel and DC) featured a story-line depicting queer or trans characters (Bramlett, Cook and Meskin, 2016). In this issue, Captain America helps his childhood best friend, Arnie, by rescuing Arnie’s close friend, Michael. Through subtext, it seemed to become clear to Captain America that Arnie and Michael were, in fact, a couple. (https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Captain_America_Vol_1_270).

(Fig. 03) Cover of Marvel’s Captain America Vol. 1 #270 (1982)(https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Captain_America_Vol_1_270).

Throughout the 1980s, more queer characters were depicted, although indirectly and still with subtext like Captain America’s Arnie. The CCA, in response to the greater inclusion of LGBTQ characters and themes in the film and other popular media forms, revised its Code to lift its prohibitions against queer characters and content. CCA-approved comics however were to avoid the graphic depiction of “sexual activity” and that depictions of adult relationships, “be presented with good taste, sensitivity, and in a manner, which will be acceptable by a mass audience” (CCA 1989).

Over the years to date, DC and Marvel have introduced characters explicitly stating their orientation, including Northstar, an X-Men character; members of The Runaways and the Young Avengers; and notably Batwoman, who came out as a lesbian. The popular Archie Comics in 2010 introduced a gay character named Kevin Keller (Fig. 04) who eventually had his spinoff comic in 2012. Ajuan Mance noted the debut of Kevin Keller as queer attracted a higher level of attention than any Marvel or DC character (Bramlett, Cook and Meskin, 2016). In 2014, Kelvin Keller got married to his spouse in the Life with Archie series (Fig. 05) a few years after New York and other US states legalized same-sex marriage and a year before the Supreme Court declared same-sex marriage legal.

(Fig. 04) https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11661956-kevin-keller

(Fig. 05) https://womenwriteaboutcomics.com/2019/06/the-wedding-issue-pride-edition-kevin-keller-and-clay-walker/

Taking this study for use in the Nigerian context can be applied in different ways. In the US, when the laws were restrictive and limiting towards queer content, the creators of comics and graphic novels under mainstream publishers had to operate in line with the laws. The creators could merely represent queer people through subtext. Unambiguous representation was only viewed through underground magazines from the ’60s up to the ’80s. In today’s age, Nigeria still has comparable, if not more regressive laws, but the Internet provides a similar and arguably better platform than the 20th century underground comics did.

The ease of access and ability to self-publish can cut out the publishing middleman, and I can illustrate distribute the stories I want via the Internet and social media platforms. Of course, if I am fortunate to secure a publishing deal for other ideas I have, I can employ subtext to include queer elements.

I will carry out more research on the best ways to present these proposed comics. Do I go in the explicit and sexually charged direction like Harry Chess and Kake to show a boldness and an unapologetic display of Nigerian queerness? Do I go the route of illustrating average Nigerian queer people to reflect their humanity hopefully to convince prejudiced people that queerness is not an abnormality? Or do I represent queerness in my comics for the Nigerian queer people to identify themselves in the media? These questions relate to the audience I want to reach because they will inform the content I want to create.

References

Bramlett, F., Cook, R. and Meskin, A., 2016, The Routledge Companion To Comics, Taylor & Francis Group.

Chute, H. 2008, "Comics as Literature? Reading Graphic Narrative", PMLA : Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, vol. 123, no. 2, pp. 452-465.

McGurk, C., 2018, Lovers, enemies, and friends: The complex and coded early history of lesbian comic strip characters, Journal of Lesbian Studies, 22:4, 336-353, DOI: 10.1080/10894160.2018.1449502

Murphy, M., 2014, The Lives and Times of Harry Chess, The Gay & Lesbian Review , 21(2): 22– 24.

Pbs.org. 2021. Milestones In The American Gay Rights Movement | American Experience | PBS. [online] Available at: <https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/stonewall-milestones-american-gay-rights-movement/> [Accessed 12 January 2021].

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letterboxd · 4 years

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Watching John Malkovich.

To understand better why Letterboxd members set out on quests to watch specific actors’ entire filmographies, we invited Tim Rod to describe her dangerous and seductive journey through John Malkovich’s screen history.

For many film lovers, 2020 has been a year of catching up: on franchises, on directors’ filmographies, on historical gaps and top 100s. But for some Letterboxd members, the year indoors has been an opportunity to hyper-focus on a single actor and their work.

Jeremiah Lambert is on a Bacon Fest, Naked Airplane has embarked on a wild ride through the works of De Niro, Hackman, Hoffman, Nicholson and Pacino. Joey is preparing for next year’s centennial of The Kid by churning through Charlie Chaplin’s catalog (with David Robinson’s biography Chaplin: His Life and Art in hand). A quick Twitter survey found others churning through a performer selection as wide-ranging as Burt Lancaster, Parker Posey, Maggie Smith, Nicolas Cage, Cary Grant, Kevin Costner, Robin Williams, Adèle Haenel, Alan Arkin, Sam Rockwell and a Seth Rogen thirst project.

It can be a bumpy journey. In one performer’s oeuvre the quality will range widely, the genres too. But the rewards are many in a close study of craft, and there are revelations, whether it’s that Australia’s Miranda Otto deserves more recognition, or it’s “the total acceptance, lack of judgment, and vulnerability with which Alan Arkin has played so many of his flawed and wonderful characters”.

With Christian Bale in ‘Empire of the Sun’ (1987).

In 2020, no fewer than three movies and two television series starring John Malkovich have been released: Arkansas, Valley of the Gods and Ava, as well as The New Pope and Space Force. The legendary actor has kept himself busy, and I know this because I have seen most of his filmography—41 films and two series—in the span of a single month. I adore Malkovich, always have, and I came out of this experience with a deeper admiration for him, and with some thoughts about his unique, remarkable skills as an actor. (And, I had a really good time.)

Allow me to begin by saying that John Malkovich is the best part of every movie he is in. No matter the movie, Malkovich will always steal the spotlight, and he can turn a good movie into a masterpiece, or an average movie that wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention into one worth watching, if only to see him do his thing.

He’s starred in movies that are considered masterpieces by many: Being John Malkovich (1999), The Killing Fields (1984) and Empire of the Sun (1987). Movies that may be considered the opposite of masterpieces, like Supercon (2018), Eragon (2006) and the most recent Ava (2020), and he’s also starred in some gems that I knew nothing about but am glad to have discovered, such as The Convent (1995), Eleni (1985) and The Ogre (1996). Malkovich has brought to life iconic characters including Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Tom Ripley, Hercule Poirot (in BBC’s The ABC Murders), the artist Gustav Klimt, and several of David Lynch’s people, in the short film Psychogenic Fugue (2016).

As Mitch Leary in ‘In the Line of Fire’ (1993).

Malkovich has received two Academy Award nominations, for Places in the Heart (1984), in which he played Edna’s lodger, the solitary yet kind Mr. Will, and for In the Line of Fire (1993), where he played the complete opposite: the psychotic Mitch Leary, determined to kill the President of the United States. Though Malkovich is not a classic action-film actor, his work in that genre is driven by logic, intellect and emotion, and the delicacy that he employs to challenge concepts of masculinity and keep us guessing. His soft and collected voice threatening Clint Eastwood over the phone is scarier and more effective than a deeper one would have been.

That voice. Malkovich has admitted that he hates the sound of it, that he would always avoid listening to it, just like so many actors avoid watching their own films, but I’m bewitched by his voice and I could never get enough of it. It can be tender, sweet and calming, seductive when the role requires it, and terrifying. With that versatility, it’s not surprising that he has done some narrating work as well, for films including Paul Newman’s The Glass Menagerie (1987) and Alive (1993).

Malkovich is at his best when seduction and villainy combine, as they do in Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Vicomte Sébastien de Valmont has been performed by many actors over the years, but I find Malkovich’s take to be the most memorable and exquisite. He captures perfectly the depravity and evilness of Valmont, but also the nuances, his journey from womanizer to man genuinely in love and, ultimately, his tragic redemption. He even brings a comedic aspect to the character that adds more depth and dimension.

With Glenn Close in ‘Dangerous Liaisons’ (1988).

Valmont is an awful human being, a monster even, and yet, every time I watch this movie, I find myself fascinated by his mastery of the deception, his sensuality and complete control of the situation, until the situation is “beyond his control”. In her review of the film, Catherine Stebbins calls John Malkovich “a sexual force of nature”, and I completely agree. If you want to see more of Malkovich’s sensual side, other notable mentions include The Sheltering Sky (1990), The Object of Beauty (1991) and Beyond the Clouds (1995).

And then there’s Being John Malkovich (1999), in which ‘John Horatio Malkovich’ displays so many facets of his craft. The fictionalized Malkovich is possessed by different characters, one of them a woman. Catherine Keener’s character falls in love with a subtly different version of Malkovich, when he is a vessel for Lotte (Cameron Diaz). Even though Lotte doesn’t have full control of Malkovich, he uses his femininity to bring the character-inside-the-character to center stage, delivering a subtle-yet-perfect performance. Even when we don’t see Lotte, we know she’s there.

John Malkovich as John Horatio Malkovich possessed by Lotte, in ‘Being John Malkovich’ (1999).

Not many actors could pull this off as brilliantly as John Malkovich does. To be fair, not many actors have been given the chance that Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman gave Malkovich: a film with his own name in the title.

I’ve discussed some of the most well-known of Malkovich’s performances, but I’d like to mention an overlooked one that I found heartbreaking and noteworthy. I didn’t know of the existence of The Ogre (1996) until I took a closer look at Malkovich’s filmography. It’s not without its flaws, but I found myself absorbed in the fairy-tale story of Abel, a naïve French prisoner of war who is taken to Nazi Germany and used to recruit children for Hitler’s Youth. Once again, the actor’s duality is on display, as Evan writes in his Letterboxd review: “Malkovich is both queasy and endearing as the (ig)noble simp who just wants to save the babies.” The Ogre tells a tragic story, but thanks to Malkovich’s tenderness, we can’t help but have sympathy for his character. At times it reminded me of the innocence of Lennie in Of Mice and Men (1992), another of the actor’s more noteworthy performances.

One of Malkovich’s great contributions to cinema is elevating an average movie just by being in it. One such role is as English conman Alan Conway in the bizarre true story, Colour Me Kubrick (2005). Malkovich admitted in an interview that he thought his performance was good, and I agree. If there’s one reason to watch that film, it’s to see Malkovich playing an eccentric conman who poses as Stanley Kubrick, using different voices and accents. As TajLV writes, “if there were anything to commend this film other than Malkovich, I’d happily rate it higher”.

As Alan Conway in ‘Colour Me Kubrick’ (2005).

One fun fact: I sometimes forget John Malkovich is American. Maybe it’s because he has starred in many European productions—out of the 41 films I watched, 18 were European. Malkovich is of European descent, has lived in France for a decade and speaks fluent French, which allowed him to star as the mysterious Baron de Charlus in Time Regained (1999), with entirely French dialogue. He also delivers lines in French and Portuguese in A Talking Picture (2003) by Manoel de Oliveira.

You’ve probably heard Malkovich use words, expressions and even entire lines of French dialogue on more than one occasion. He does this often, which gives him a certain European vibe, consistent with his own character, mannerisms and dress sense—elements that he sometimes brings to his characters. Maybe that’s the reason he has played so many intellectuals and artists: professors, scientists, detectives, painters, writers, a scientist and a robot, and even the Pope… It seems there’s nothing John Malkovich can’t do, including directing.

To end my marathon, I watched his directorial debut, The Dancer Upstairs (2002), an assured movie adapted from a novel about the Maoist uprising in Peru in the 1980s, starring Javier Bardem. It was a nice surprise, and a strong start to what could have been a career as a film director, if not for the fact that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. I recently read an interview where Edgar Wright revealed advice he always gives to directors, which is to make their second movie the one that will define them. I wonder if we will ever see John Malkovich’s second film, but for now, I hope he keeps gifting us with more unforgettable performances. At least we know that in the distant future, along with all the movies he has already appeared in, people will enjoy a never-seen-before performance when Robert Rodríguez’s short 100 years is released in 2115.

If there’s one thing I have learnt after watching most of his filmography, it’s that John Malkovich is one of the best and most versatile actors of our time, with the most unique voice I have heard in cinema, and with a rich filmography that encompasses every genre. And he’s not only a brilliant actor, but also someone I find personally fascinating. I truly find comfort in him. I hope we all get to enjoy his art for years to come, because his talent is limitless and I know he still has so much more to give. John Malkovich deserves all the praise for being a force of nature in the theater and film industry for over 40 years.

Tim is a Letterboxd member based in Spain, who has recently moved on from her John Malkovich marathon to a Sacha Baron Cohen quest.

#letterboxd #letterboxd community #john malkovich #actors #actor #acting #craft #acting craft #dangerous liaisons #most watched actor

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wherevermyway · 4 years

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roller rinks and raspberry berets (1/2) // jeongbin // 18+

chapter one: heaven and back navigation: next chapter [in progress]

pairing: seo changbin x yang jeongin | past bang chan x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, recreational drug use (LSD, weed), 1980s AU, strangers-to-lovers, the roller skates stay on during sex, past infidelity, phone sex, masturbation, semi-public sex word count: 11,606 also on AO3

originally posted: 16 november 2021

It’s 1987, and the party scene is as vibrant and lively as the neon rainbow everyone is painted in.

Several months after a nasty breakup, Seo Changbin’s friends set him up with a mutual friend, Yang Jeongin. They speak on the phone a couple of times, then decide to go through with the blind date set up for them at a local roller rink. Changbin realizes he never really learned how to skate, but with Jeongin's hands guiding him, anything's possible.

They take some questionable substances and sparks start to fly when the lights drop and the music gets louder.

It's neon night at The Roxanne, and things are about to liven up, in more ways than one.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

A murky haze surrounded two men lying on a shag carpet in a rundown apartment. The stench of scorched marijuana and incense clung to the walls like the dingy wallpaper that was slowly starting to yellow and peel. If it wasn’t for the Madonna calendar hanging up right next to the fridge that had “MAY 1987” emblazoned in big, blocky orange letters, it would seem like the place was stuck in 1973.

“You’re gonna want this,” a young man with spiky, neon orange hair passes off a dime bag with a couple of tiny blotters in it to the other young man with shaggy black hair. “Neon night at The Roxanne always gets fuckin’ dope, but if you’re not trippin’ on something, it ain’t as good.”

“Word,” the man with black hair rubs his eyes and tosses the bag onto his chest. He brings a joint up to his lips, taking a deep inhale, before passing it back to the other man. The smoke hangs in his lungs for a few moments, before he carefully exhales the vapour into the air, letting the smoke feed into the cloud hovering above them. “You really think this Jeongin is as rad as Seungmin keeps hyping him up to be?”

The orange haired man coughs while he laughs. “Dunno, dude.” He takes another hit from the joint, and a wide grin spreads across his face. “I’ve met him a couple times. He plays the electric bass some band and thinks he’s good at surfing. Seung keeps telling me ‘Oh, Changbin’s gonna love him, Jeongin’s got a collection of weird records and refuses to use cassette tapes’ like it means something.”

Changbin fumbles himself upright and points at Minho, dime bag sliding off of his chest and down to the floor. “He’s got a point, dude,” the younger man, despite looking higher than a kite, attempts to look totally serious. “I told you, records just sound better. Don’t give me that shit about cassette tapes. The only shit tapes have for them is that they’re convenient for road trips. Sound-wise, it ain’t the same.”

The two of them stare at each other before bursting into a fit of the giggles. They laugh until their stomachs hurt and the cherry burns out of their joint.

“Anyway,” Minho wipes the corners of his eyes and pulls a slip of paper out of his back pocket, “you should give him a call before your date. Might make things a little less awkward.”

Changbin takes the slip of torn notebook paper and stares at it. He was doing fine until he saw the ten digits and ‘Jeongin’ on the paper, then his palms started to sweat a bit. “You really think he’s gonna like me?”

Minho relights the joint between his teeth and smirks, giving Changbin a coy glance. “Everyone likes you, dude. Chill out.”

Changbin didn’t get the courage to call Jeongin until Wednesday night, two days before their blind date. Minho was out for the night, going to some lame house party with Seungmin again. The two were practically attached at the hip, unsure if they were going to ever officially become an item or not; they had been on-again, off-again for nearly a year now. Minho was seriously considering asking Seungmin if they should settle down, take things seriously, but then Chan had broken up with Changbin, and it made everyone question if relationships were really worth it.

“Man,” Changbin sighed as he flopped down onto his bed. He reached over to his nightstand and cracked his knuckles before he scraped together enough weed to roll a quick joint. Minho was always better at it than him, but he tried his damnedest. As long as he could smoke up enough to forget about frantic college students contemplating the true meaning of Shakespeare’s work while he helped them search for reference materials, he didn’t really care what exactly the joint looked like.

It turned out a little crooked, but it didn’t matter. As long as it got the job done, right? He took a stray match from the tray and struck it against a matchbox, spinning it around the end of his joint as he took a deep inhale, then shook the match until the flame went out. As he watched the smoke leave his lips, he chewed on his lip a bit.

Tonight was the night. It had to be. There were only two nights to go.

His eyes fluttered down to the same scrap of paper that Minho had handed him a couple of days ago, sitting right next to the phone on his desk. When they first moved into this apartment, Minho teased him for having a rotary phone, instead of something with real push buttons. “Dude, you’re, like, twenty-five and you’ve got an old ass rotary phone. You’re fitting that old, crusty librarian stereotype, now you just need twenty cats and argyle-patterned wool sweaters covered in your cats’ fur.”

Minho earned the elbow in the ribs that Changbin gave him for that.

Changbin wasn’t sure how long he sat and stared at that scrap of paper, but it was long enough for him to get through his entire joint. Would Jeongin really like him? Could he handle the weird, nerdy rants Changbin could go on about the Dewey Decimal Classification when he got really baked? Did Jeongin even do, much less like, drugs?

Okay, if he was friends with Seungmin, he absolutely had to be fine with the last concern. That was one fear off of the list, alleviating his concerns a minute amount.

After Chan got sick of Changbin’s oddities, he was nervous that his next partner would be overly critical of everything he did. Afraid that he would spark an argument over something stupid, like the way that their albums were organized, or whether or not plates should be on the bottom shelf of a cupboard, or the second shelf.

Domestic life with a partner was stupid, and being stuck in the middle of one’s twenties, when someone supposed to be in the prime of their youth, was not the time to argue over fucking dinner plates. Changbin figured that now was the perfect time to drop acid on a date with some dude he never met, even if he wasn’t sure if the stranger was even cute or not. It didn’t matter.

Fuck it.

He placed the remnants of his burnt out joint on the metal tray, pushing it out of the way as he stood up, grabbing his phone and the paper off of his desk, dropping them onto his nightstand. Hopefully, this conversation would be long enough for him to be able to relax up against the wall, to get comfortable and bond. Even if it wasn’t a guarantee towards forever, Changbin would let his guard down just a little, let someone in again. It had been several months, nearly a year at this point, and it was time.

His fingers were slightly clammy, holding the flimsy paper in between his thumb and index finger. He took in a sharp breath, then brought the receiver up under his ear, propping it up with his shoulder. Subconsciously, Changbin furrowed his brows and stuck the tip of his tongue out through the corner of his lips as he punched in each digit into the rotary, letting the dial spin and click between each number.

After the tenth number was in, he sat back a bit, listening to the dial tone trill in his ear.

Once.

Was this the right number?

Twice.

Would Jeongin pick up?

Three rings.

Was he even home?

Four.

Was this a good idea?

Five. Five was making Changbin nervous, more nervous than he expected.

“Hello?” The voice on the other line was breathy and he heard a couple of small pants. It was easy to get distracted, Changbin getting lost in the possible reasons as to why the other voice was so… occupied.

“H-hi,” he stumbled over his words, forgetting how to form a coherent sentence. Shit, this was awkward. “I’m looking for Jeongin. Yang Jeongin. Do I have the right number?”

“Heh,” the other voice chuckles. “Depends on who’s asking.”

Arrogant. Changbin liked that. “Seo Changbin. Apparently, we’re going on a date on Friday, thanks to our friend Seungmin.”

“Damn,” the other young man sighed, “took you forever to call. Seungmin said he wasn’t gonna give me your number, that I should wait for you to call.” There’s a sound of something metallic clattering against a hard surface. “I don’t like waiting, but I figured I’d give it a chance. I’m tired of dating guys that have dated guys I’ve dated already.”

Changbin swallowed hard, not sure of what exactly he should say.

“That was a joke, dude.” Jeongin sighs, and there’s a bit of shuffling on the other line. “Please tell me you know how to laugh. If you don’t know how to laugh, I don’t know how this is gonna work out.”

“Yeah,” Changbin squeaks, “I just, I dunno, I’m not really good at talking over the phone unless it’s for, like, work or something.”

“Oh yeah!” The other man exclaims, and a slap against a hard surface comes through the tinny receiver. “Seungmin told me you’re a librarian. You don’t hear of many 25-year-old librarians, much less ones that are dudes, and even fewer that don’t have cats. Weird.” He laughs a little bit, a cute, light, floaty laugh. “Why did you become a librarian, of all things? Sounds kinda nerdy.”

Without thinking, Changbin grits his teeth in nervousness, reminded of all of the shitty jocks in high school giving him shit for spending all of his free time in the library, nose in some nonfiction books about music theory. None of those bastards got anywhere in life, anyways, so who was really laughing now? “It’s because I am a nerd,” he says, a bit colder than he should have, “but I like organization, helping people find things, and, honestly, just being able to feel a little smarter than most people sometimes.”

The weed was starting to really have an effect on him, allowing him to physically relax, but also be a bit more open. Perhaps he was a bit too open.

The two men share a brief pause over the phone and then Jeongin laughs. “So, you think you’re pretty smart, huh?”

“I mean,” Changbin leans up against the wall, tangling the phone cord aimlessly between his fingers, “I don’t have two degrees in this for nothing.”

“Ha,” Jeongin’s laugh bubbles up again, “dweeb.”

They chat aimlessly for a while, and Changbin finds out that Jeongin is, indeed, a musician. Dropped out of university to be a bassist with a couple of his friends, but he works in a pawn shop half-time.

“Pays the bills and it lets me get first pick of all of the good, barely-played records,” Jeongin quips. “Even if sometimes people wanna try to steal shit and we get threats of armed robbery every couple weeks. Stressful, but I got a copy of The Wall last week, brand new and unopened, for way cheaper than my boss would’ve sold it for, so that makes up for it.”

Changbin found Jeongin startlingly fascinating. They seemed like total opposites on some things, since Jeongin was an extrovert and Changbin was an introvert, but they agreed on important things, like music. “That reminds me,” he slid down to lay up against his bed and stare at the ceiling, “my roommate, Minho? He tried to tell me there’s no auditory difference between records and cassette tapes.”

“Dude!” Jeongin scoffs with offence. “You need a new roommate. What a shitty opinion.”

“I know, I know,” Changbin curls into himself a bit, a wide smile on his face as he laughs. “Minho doesn’t get it, man. I tried playing a couple different things, but he still didn’t get it.”

The two of them share a laugh over the line. It had been so long since someone other than Minho made Changbin genuinely smile and laugh like that, and he was starting to have a bit less reservation about Jeongin. Maybe this would work out, after all.

“So,” the other man clears his throat, trying to calm himself from laughing so hard, “I gotta ask. What’s your favourite year in music so far, since ’80? Don’t get me started on the 60s and 70s, because I have a lot of opinions.”

“That’s tough.” Changbin bites his tongue and squints, rolling his eyes back and forth, scanning the ceiling as if it would give him some sort of answer. “’84, if I have to pick. I mean, dude, look at Queen; they’re fucking killing it. ‘Radio Ga Ga’ is still playing everywhere. Don’t even get me started on ‘Take On Me’, either.”

Jeongin politely chuckles. “Alright, man, I gotta disagree. ’85. ‘Raspberry Beret’ is so good, like, it’s my favourite by Prince. ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’? Come on, man, The Breakfast Club. You can’t tell me that’s not iconic.”

“That’s one of my favourite movies, man.” Changbin’s face starts to hurt from smiling so much as he quotes the film: “‘We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all.’”

There’s a soft laugh on the other line, something different about it, like the mood has shifted into something a little more serious. “Ah, Changbin. I knew I’d like you, not just for your opinions on records and cassette tapes. You seem pretty neat, and I wanna get to know you more.”

The blush that creeps up on Changbin’s face is uncomfortably hot. They had to have been on the phone for about an hour, but everything was starting to unravel naturally, comfortably, and it was exciting. His gaze falls as he turns his head to the side, eyeing the metal alarm clock on his nightstand.

“I’d like that, Jeongin,” he says, nearly whispering it. “I’ve gotta head to bed here in a bit, since I’ve got an early day of being your local resident nerd at the campus library tomorrow.”

“I haven’t seen you yet,” the other man lowers his voice, practically growling into the phone, “but you might just convince me that librarians and nerds can be hot and sexy, after all.”

Changbin practically chokes on his saliva at that comment. His eyes widen and he shakes his head a few times, almost comically. “I wouldn’t say that I’m either of those things, but I’m curious to hear what you think of me. Maybe we could pick up this conversation tomorrow?”

“I’m free all night, baby. Call me up whenever.”

The two of them offer impolite farewells, then Changbin softly hangs up the phone. He checks his alarm clock to make sure his alarm is set, then pulls the drawstring on his desk lamp, turning it off.

“Nerds can be hot and sexy, after all.” Jeongin’s voice echoed in his head, and just the thought of the way he said that caused his nerves to come to life, for his breath to quicken. What did this mysterious pawn shop clerk by day, musician by night look like? Was he any good in the sheets? Was he aggressive, was he soft?

If he wasn’t so tired, Changbin would’ve let his mind run a little more wild, maybe let his hands wander south. Instead, he quickly fell asleep, losing himself in the memory of Jeongin’s voice and the possibilities they had ahead of them.

The next day went by slower than it should have, and it was completely unfair. It was two in the afternoon when things came to a complete standstill. It was Thursday, and a lot of students would likely be in the middle of exams, so there wasn’t much to do, other than daydream about Jeongin while aimlessly thumbing through a catalogue of items for archiving.

Changbin stood at the archiving desk, the area completely emptied out and quiet. The lack of people meant there was a lack of work, allowing for his mind to travel to some interesting places: imagining bony fingers scanning his body, running down his torso, grabbing his hips. He subconsciously gripped the red pen in his hand a little tighter, leaning against the desk as he bit his lip, trying hard not to rut against the oaken wood beneath him.

He should be focusing on the lengthy parchment in front of him, waiting to be indexed. Waiting, like he was, to be aimlessly fucked into. It had been over a year since he last slept with someone, and it was starting to become tiresome. It usually didn’t bother him, but Jeongin’s voice and his words had been dancing around in his head all day, making his entire body tingle and tense.

Their blind date was tomorrow night, but Changbin wasn’t sure if he could hold out on getting off for one more day. He had to know more intimate details about Jeongin, and, nerves be damned, he was going to work up the courage to find out tonight.

Changbin nervously paced around his empty apartment, soles of his feet dragging across the shag carpet in the living room. He told himself he wouldn’t call Jeongin until 19:30 at the earliest, and calling him at exactly 19:30 would just be overkill and stupid. He couldn’t come off as needy or desperate, so he waited. Every couple of minutes, he would anxiously look up at the clock that hung up on the wall above his prized record player.

19:24.

“Dammit all to hell,” Changbin grumbled, nibbling on his thumbnail as he continued to pace. Kate Bush’s ‘Cloudbusting’ was nearly finished playing, which meant he was going to have to flip the record over to side B, but he decided against it. No, he’d suffer in silence until 19:33; an arbitrary time, but random enough to seem unsuspicious. That meant a little under eight minutes to wait impatiently. He’d get through it, he figured, even though it would be painful.

As the song ended and Changbin went to shut off the record player and slip the vinyl back into its papery packaging, the phone rang. A gasp silently escaped his lips as he looked up at the clock. 19:26.

No, it couldn’t be Jeongin. Changbin didn’t give him his phone number. Still, he ran off to his bedroom. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, but it was better to be prepared just in case. He slammed his door behind him and rushed to grab the receiver, anxiously bringing it up to his ear.

“Hello?” He tried so hard to stay calm as he answered the phone.

“Hey!” Changbin frowned as he realized the voice on the other line was Minho. “It’s just me. I’m gonna be at Seungmin’s tonight. We’ve got, uh,” he lowers his voice, “I’m probably not gonna be home until, like, Sunday at this rate. Seungmin’s got plans.”

He tried really hard not to, but Changbin still rolled his eyes in envy at his roommate. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “have fun getting the life pounded out of you. Hopefully you can still walk by the time you come home on Monday.”

“Oh come on,” Minho scoffed. “According to Seungmin, don’t be surprised if Jeongin’s got similar plans for the both of you if you two hit it off.”

Changbin shook his head and instantly flushed at the thought, his brain malfunctioning. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s nothing.” There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Minho gasps and laughs. “I gotta go, dude. Good luck this weekend, bye!”

Before he can say anything in response, Minho hangs up, leaving Changbin staring blankly at the receiver. He slams it down on the phone and groans loudly. A few moments pass before he decides to turn his overhead light off, and turn his desk lamp on. 19:30. There was only a little bit longer before he wouldn’t be worried about calling Jeongin, so he stared down at the drawer of his nightstand.

“Just in case, right?” A nervous scoff left his lips as he whispered into the air.

He pulled out a small bottle of lube, and set it down next to the phone. Even if his conversation with Jeongin didn’t go the way he was hoping it would, he wouldn’t let himself fall asleep unsatisfied tonight. There was no way.

19:31.

Two minutes to go until—

The phone rang again, causing Changbin to jump in place, nearly out of his own skin. “What the fuck?” He shouted to himself as he picked up the receiver. “Dude, Minho, I get it, you don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“Changbin?” The other voice was decidedly not Minho. No, it was too familiar, yet unfamiliar all at once. Painfully new.

“Jeongin? How did you…?”

The younger man chuckled. “I was with Seungmin today. Told him about our conversation yesterday, and he thought it’d be fine if he gave me your number. Maybe call you a little earlier, throw you off your guard.”

Changbin scoffed and flopped down onto his bed unceremoniously. “Well, it worked.”

“Clearly.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence, and Changbin bit his lip, trying to think of what to say next. He had all of these great topics for conversation run through his head while he was at work, but now they were all gone, like they never existed. The only obvious option that came to him was about their date tomorrow. “About our date tomorrow,” he starts, aimlessly watching the second hand tick away on his alarm clock, “how are we gonna know how to find each other?”

Jeongin hummed a mindless tune for a moment, likely contemplating his plans. “Wait for me at the bar. I’ll be there, wearing a neon pink shirt. I’ve got freshly-dyed teal blue hair, so you might need to get your eyes checked if you miss me.”

A soft smile crawled its way up Changbin’s face. “That sounds eclectic.”

“Comes with who I am; the whole package deal is a little unconventional. Hopefully you can handle that.”

“Hmm,” Changbin hums, then tsks, “might be a little difficult. A neon-clad, blue-haired musician and a boring, black-haired librarian that only owns dark clothes. We’re gonna be quite the duo.”

“Come on,” Jeongin whines, “you’ve gotta have a little neon in that closet of yours.”

“Nope. You can be the neon, and I’ll be the night, since it’s neon night, after all. Yin and yang. Light and dark.”

There’s a soft chuckle on the other line. “Can’t have the day without the night, huh?”

“When you put it that way,” Changbin starts, but lets his voice trail off. Musicians sure seemed to be good with words. He couldn’t help but wonder, with a silver tongue like that, if Jeongin wrote the lyrics for the small punk group he was a part of. Come to think of it, a punk bassist in neon was an interesting mental image, almost some sort of visual dissonance.

“What are you wearing?” Jeongin pulls Changbin from his thoughts, voice a bit lower than it was prior.

The question perplexed Changbin as he mentally thumbed through the clothes in his closet. “I dunno, probably my Bad Religion t-shirt so I’m noticeable and some ripped skinny jeans. Think it roughly fits the non-neon aesthetic. Is that fine?”

“Perhaps I should’ve phrased that better.” A laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

Changbin knots his eyebrows together and cards a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you mean, then. I figured it would fit for the location, and—“

“I meant right now.” The bluntness in Jeongin’s statement is jarring.

“Oh.” Changbin can’t manage much else, his brain slowly grinding its gears around as he tried to get back into the right mental space for… this.

This was really fucking happening. Not just a delusional fantasy he had hoped for.

He must have taken too long thinking about it, because Jeongin frantically starts stuttering on the other line. “Wait, no, sorry,” he starts, “that was abrupt. I’m sorry, like, shit, we’ve barely spoken for more than an hour to each other and I’m already trying to pull something like this and I probably just came off as—“

“What do you want me to wear right now?” It comes out a bit too naturally, too smoothly off of Changbin’s tongue, like it was obvious he wanted to see where this would go.

A beat passes. “Ideally?” Jeongin quietly whispers, shuffling a bit on his end. “I’d want you naked. But I don’t think I want you there yet.”

Changbin’s heart was about to beat out of his chest and his dick responded in kind, slowly pressing up against his briefs more and more as his blood coursed through his veins. “Not yet, you say? How come?”

“I don’t like instant gratification. If you can’t work for it, what’s the point?”

“Interesting. Am I working for it, or are you?” Changbin’s free hand slips down to the hem of his shirt, playing with a loose string, rolling it nervously between his thumb and index finger.

Jeongin hums. “Tonight? I don’t usually do this, since I like to be the one in control, but it’s been so long, I’ll make an exception.”

In the seven years that Changbin had been an adult, he had only tried phone sex once, and it was awkward. Chan was in northern California for work, and they were both drunk and lonely. They tried to make it work, but the pacing was off, the phrasing was awkward, especially since Chan didn’t try to experiment with dirty talk, and they ended up falling asleep on each other.

This, though, simply felt different and exciting.

“What if I don’t want you to be naked?” Changbin tugged harder at the string, starting to rip it from the hem, slowly unravelling it and ruining the stitching of his shirt. It didn’t matter, he hardly noticed. He could tear his shirt apart completely and he still wouldn’t have cared.

“Seems like you like to make people work for it, too.” Jeongin shuffled on the other line again, his voice a bit clearer, like he was closer to the phone. “Maybe you like to do questionable things in questionable places. I don’t know you well — at all, actually — but I just get this feeling about you. The quiet ones are always the fun, adventurous ones.”

“It must be true, then.” Changbin pauses to take in a breath, to calm his nerves over what he was about to say to a stranger over the phone. “I thought about you today while I was working on a catalogue for our archives. It’s a boring, thoughtless job sometimes, allows me to have a lot of time to let my mind wander. I was leaning up against the desk, pen in hand, and all I could think about was how pretty your voice would sound as I slowly fucked into you, made you beg to me to go faster, but I’d just slow down.” The string detached from Changbin’s shirt, yet he continued to roll it between his fingers.

Jeongin’s breathing started to pick up on the other end. “What else?”

Changbin discarded the string haphazardly and nestled the receiver in the crook of his neck, shuffling his shorts and briefs down just enough for his dick to spring out. “I’d bite the back of your neck all the way up your ear. Tell you to stay quiet, since you were being too loud and whiny, that you’d be the reason we’d get caught.”

“Yeah,” a pant, “can’t have us getting caught. It’d be quite a rush, getting fucked by the hot, nerdy librarian when he’s supposed to be working.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Changbin grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, haphazardly squirting some of it all over his crotch, somewhat missing his dick in his rush. “The only thing I’d be working would be your cock in my hand. Make you whine, make you fucking miserable as I bring you so close to coming but keep you hanging, begging for me to let you come.” He tossed the bottle on to the floor, then mopped up some of the stray lube off of his stomach, then moved to stroke himself a bit hastily. It had been so long, and to actually have an intimate connection with another human being, albeit over the phone, was enough excitement to have him close to the edge already.

Jeongin must have had a similar idea, because his laboured breathing comes over the line in a constant rhythm. “Maybe I don’t wanna take it slow.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

“Oh,” the other man sounded a bit shocked, gasping quietly. “You’re interesting, mister sexy librarian. What if I decided to push back? Literally? Bring my hips back up against yours, grind my ass up on you and make you whine and make you fucking miserable?”

“Shit,” Changbin growled, not expecting that kind of reaction. “I might have to grab you by the hair, push you down into the desk and give a needy little brat like you exactly what you want.” The thought was almost too much. He knew he was getting close; he should’ve slowed the pacing down with his hand, but he couldn’t stop. Instead, he was increasing his pace and tightening the grip at the top of his hand a bit more. “How would you like that?”

“Fuck,” Jeongin sounds like he’s completely lost in the moment, breathing erratic and letting full gasps and moans escape now. It sounded like some sort of wildly inappropriate choral music. “Changbin, that’s so fucking hot. I wish this was your hand around me instead. It feels so good, but it’s not enough.” Changbin lets out a choked whine, lost in the thought of what Jeongin looked like as he jerked himself off. “Ah, Changbin, I need you so badly. To feel you around me, inside me, and I—“

Suddenly, the light on the edge of Changbin’s desk went out and Jeongin’s voice went silent. The ambient humming that usually filled his apartment was dead. It appeared as if his part of LA got wrapped up in a sudden blackout, since everything everywhere was dark and quiet.

This couldn’t have come at a more horrible time.

Changbin let out an exasperated, desperate yell in frustration. As he angrily tossed the receiver to the side, causing the entire phone to go flying, he stared up at the ceiling in the darkness and swore that he was never going to try phone sex again.

Zero for two. Phone sex was cursed.

Even though today was the day that Changbin was finally going to meet Jeongin for their date, he was in an absolutely dreadful mood. Sure, after the power went out for the entire night, he had managed to get himself off, but it was lacklustre and nowhere near as good as he was anticipating it to be with his conversation with Jeongin. The pathetic way that the younger man mewled his name followed him like a shadow all day, echoing in the space between his ears all day.

“Changbin,” the voice taunted him, “I need you so badly.”

He groaned and leaned up against his archive desk, not even bothering to try to pay attention to his work. There was no way he was going to get anything done while he was too distracted thinking about fucking this stranger up against it, pushing his face into the mass of open books and large parchment. They would knock off all of the paraphernalia, pens clattering like raindrops against the ground, sound being absorbed by the walls of books surrounding them. God, how good it would be to hear his name coming from those lips one more time.

“I wish this was your hand around me instead.”

His eyes lulled to the corner of the table, pushing up his glasses to better focus on a cheap digital clock showing 15:40 in bright red lights. “Goddammit,” Changbin grumbled to himself and let his head collide against the open book in front of him. The tension in his slacks was causing time to inch by impossibly slow, like he was stuck in molasses. He had less than five and a half hours to go until he would finally meet the man the engrossed his entire mind for the past 48 hours and he couldn’t wait to give Jeongin a taste of the thoughts that consumed him.

Only a bit over five hours, now. He could do this.

Changbin had to have mentally pored over his entire appearance several times as he showered. Glasses? No, those would just be a nuisance; it’d be best to just suffer with a little bit of blurry vision for distant things. Besides, he was going to be seeing crazy shit halfway through their date, if they hit it off well enough to trip together.

So, no glasses. One thing off the list.

After his shower, Changbin thumbed through his closet, lost in a sea of black and indigo clothing, with a couple of odd white button up shirts that were frequently ignored. His graphic shirts were towards the left-hand side, reserved for his days off and the nights he’d go out with Minho and Seungmin, where he tried to look as normal as possible, and not like the dweeby librarian everyone knew him to be. It took several flicks of the thumb, but he eventually found the Bad Religion shirt he promised he was going to wear. That, and the torn up black skinny jeans he already had on his bed, were the only things Jeongin had to go off of.

Changbin was desperately hoping that Jeongin would find him in the sea of people that would be there. If this date flopped, he was going to hide for weeks in embarrassment, showing up to something so high energy looking like a black cloud of doom and gloom and dateless. The first half of that was tolerable, but to be dateless after all of that would be devastating to his ego.

Thankfully, Jeongin was going to be the visual antithesis to Changbin’s all-black attire. He was going to be like a dark cloud, a shadow to be passed over, and Jeongin would be that bright ray of vivid neon pink and teal blue. They’d be eyesores in their own rights, but it wouldn’t matter. Nobody would really be paying close attention to them tonight; neon nights were always the nights where people would get drugged out, smoke weed openly and fuck in the washrooms, and everyone would let go of their faux daily life personas and be carefree for one night.

It didn’t take long for Changbin to change into his outfit. He turned his head to look at his nightstand, squinting to make out the time on the clock. 19:52. All he needed to do was fuss over his appearance in the mirror while he would throw on some eyeliner. He would then fix his hair, gelling it into some sort of puffed out “just woke up” look that would just deflate after an hour of hanging around a humid, cramped environment packed with people. Maybe he’d wear those knee-high platform combat boots he only wore once to a concert a couple years ago.

First impressions were important, even if he knew he’d look like a mess at the end of the night. He wanted to prove to Jeongin that librarians could, in fact, be hot and sexy, even if it wasn’t in the conventional ways society would prefer.

The platform combat boots were a bad idea.

It wasn’t a far walk, but as Changbin waited in line outside of The Roxanne, he was constantly adjusting his feet and kicking the toes of his boots against the firm concrete of the sidewalk. He knew he’d be off of his feet soon enough, but getting to that point was proving to be brutal. The line slowly moved, people gradually being allowed in after paying the cover fee. Changbin flicked his arm, looking at the silver Royal Oak decorating his wrist, eyeing the time. 21:05.

He huffed, furrowing his brows and staring at the gunpowder grey backdrop of his watch. This was his lucky watch that his parents gifted him for graduating with his master’s degree last year. It was what he wore for his interview at UCLA, almost positive he wouldn’t get the entry-level librarian position he applied for, since it was heavily competitive, but he somehow managed to get it. It was the watch he wore when he and Minho signed for their shoddy apartment. It was what he wore when he gained the courage to call Jeongin.

Maybe superstition was stupid, but Changbin really wanted to put all of his cards on the table and risk believing in it tonight.

The line continued to shuffle forward, and Changbin’s nerves started to really consume him. On the outside, he tried to look cool and composed, his thumbs gently tucked into the belt loops of his pants, shoulders tucked back, head propped upright. Internally, however, he was very much the opposite of the cool-guy persona he was putting on. If he could scream and still be seen as sane, he absolutely would.

Another couple of steps. Changbin pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, sliding out his driver’s licence and a fiver as he approached the sturdily built man that stood outside of the front door. The man didn’t bother looking at his licence and just took the bill from him. They exchanged no words, the man just tilting his head towards the door, and Changbin simply walked in.

His fingers trembled a bit as he anxiously jammed his licence back into his wallet, exchanging it for a ten-dollar-bill, and returned the billfold to his back pocket. A long sigh escaped his lips as scanned the room, seeing no one with teal hair and a bright pink shirt as he approached the bar, finding a spot where he could keep an eye on the front door. He waved down one of the bartenders, who glided over towards him on her skates as she smiled at him.

“Hey there, what can I get ya?” She smiled at him, excitedly tapping her hands on the wooden countertop.

Changbin passed her the cash and shrugged. “A gin and tonic is fine. I don’t care what kind of gin you use.”

“You got it,” she skated away, off to make his drink.

Again, Changbin looked down to his watch. 21:21. The lights flickered off nine minutes early, UV lighting illuminating the entire rink, save the halogen lights by the washrooms, entrance, and most of the bar. The bartender returned with Changbin’s drink and his change.

“Quinine sure is fascinating, ain’t it? I love anything with tonic water on neon nights. Lemme know if you need anything else, buttercup.” She smiled, then skated away to her next customer before Changbin could make any sort of commentary. He stared wildly at his drink, literally glowing in a nuclear shade of blue, wondering if it had been adulterated. Quinine. He recognized the word from one of his organic chemistry texts from university, but the details of it escaped him.

Fuck it. Might as well just drink it.

He fumbled the cash into his right pocket, not bothering to stuff it back into his wallet. There was no way he was going to stand up in these fucking shoes unless he absolutely had to. Another glance to his watch. 21:24. Changbin grumbled under his breath, bringing the glass cup to his lips, biting the plastic straw between his teeth as he sucked up some of the toxic-looking liquid and he looked to the door. The drink nearly went everywhere as his eyes went wide and he saw a human glow stick walk in.

Neon pink shirt. Hair as violently blue as his own drink, topped with a purple beret. This was his human glow stick. It was fucking Yang Jeongin, actually here, in the flesh. Changbin didn’t even try to doubt it.

The black-haired man dipped his head down in nervousness, his heartbeat thrumming so loudly, it overtook the music being played over the loud speakers behind him. He had gotten this far, but Changbin had no idea what to do now. These men had essentially fucked over the phone just the night prior — well, they had attempted to, for all intents and purposes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

How do people do blind dates? In the six years he spent studying research and analysis, he never came across something like this in his texts and papers. The countless nights he spent researching the human connection and other psychological and sociological theories had meant jack shit when it actually came to experiencing them in person. If his hair wasn’t well-coiffed, Changbin would be nervously running his fingers through his hair and biting off every single fingernail he could. It had been years since he dated, and this could go very poorly.

Something inside of him compelled him to look again. Perhaps the human glow stick was a figment of his imagination, the wrong person. Something. Anything. Anyone other than Yang Jeongin. Changbin sucked down another large swig of his drink, and turned his head slightly, and saw that the glow stick was scanning the bar. Changbin was about to turn away out of nervousness when they made eye contact.

He hadn’t consumed any questionable substances other than a couple sips of his drink, but it was like a fire had been set alight within him, burning away some of his anxiety and replacing it with a sense of confidence. That was definitely Jeongin, the gaze they exchanged with each other left no room for question.

The younger man smiled, biting his lip as he excitedly trekked up to Changbin. He stopped in front of him, gazing down at the older man’s shirt, then wiggling a bit in joy as he opened his mouth.

“Please tell me you’re Seo Changbin, otherwise you’re going to be very disappointed tonight.”

“Well,” Changbin couldn’t help but half-smirk with a bit of a cocky arrogance he didn’t know he had. He set his drink down on the bar and leaned on his elbow, slowly looking up at the neon-clad man. “That depends on who’s asking, don’t you think?” He used the first words Jeongin spoke at him against him, and the younger man giggled.

“Yang Jeongin, at your service. Raspberry beret included. Still the best year in music this decade.” The blue-haired man winks and leans in close, very close to the older man, as he then rests his arms on the countertop, flagging down the same bartender as before. She nods and starts working on a drink without even talking to him. The young man sits back on his heels and boldly slaps a hand on Changbin’s thigh. He moves in, right up next to the black-haired man’s ear, lips practically touching it as he lowers his voice to a whisper. “You know, Changbin, librarians aren’t supposed to be hot and sexy, but man, am I glad I’ve been proven wrong.”

Changbin may have been nervous as all hell just a few minutes ago, but now he had a sneaking feeling that maybe, just maybe, this date was going to work out after all.

The two of them share a couple of drinks at the bar, really hitting it off. Jeongin doesn’t lift his hand from Changbin’s thigh, which the elder doesn’t mind, slowly getting the courage to place his hand on top of it after their second drink. At some point, Jeongin sticks his tongue out in defiance, showing off a neon green tongue ring on bright display, and Changbin is impressed.

“I’m full of a lot of secrets, you know.” The younger man teases, aimlessly biting on his straw.

“I guess I’m gonna have to slowly unwrap you in order to find out all of those secrets, huh?” Thanks to the alcohol, Changbin’s a lot smoother than he thinks he is, realizing that the words sounded a lot less innocuous than he intended. He blinks rapidly and stumbles over his words. “Sorry,” he apologizes, then rubs his forehead with his free hand. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“That was a good pickup line,” the blue-haired man giggles into his drink, emptying the contents of the glass, then slamming it down on the counter. He takes his newly-freed hand and rests his head in his palm, happily smiling at the man in front of him. “Now what?”

Changbin gently sets his drink on the counter, then reaches into his left pocket, scooping up the dime bag from the other day, tucking it into the palm of his hand. “I got these from Seungmin the other day. Kind of a strange question, but,” he looks up to the younger man and licks his bottom lip, “you trust me enough to get a little tripped out?”

Jeongin excitedly shimmies his shoulders back and forth a couple of times. “You’re friends with Seungmin, so that’s good enough for me. Whatcha got on the menu for tonight, hmm?”

“Something pretty to go right up next to that tongue ring of yours.” Changbin takes his hand off of Jeongin’s, inconspicuously fiddling with the bag. He pulls out a small baby pink square of paper, briefly flashing it at the younger man. “I can take it first if you don’t trust me.”

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, only moving in a bit closer, and he sticks his tongue out, mouth wide open, everything shiny with saliva and on full display. He looks up to Changbin with pleading eyes and makes a little cooing noise.

Changbin let his eyes flutter shut for a brief second as he sharply inhaled through his nose and then shifted in his seat in mild discomfort. “You’re dangerous,” he whispered, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed Jeongin’s chin, lightly tugging him closer for a moment, as he pressed the paper onto the moist, warm tongue in front of him. “I’m ready to get burned with fire, though.” He wastes no time to pluck the second piece of paper from the plastic bag, pressing it against his own tongue. “Let everything chill out on your tongue for a while, alright?”

“You say that like you think I’ve never dropped acid before, dude.” The younger man smiled widely, then tugged at Changbin’s hand, pulling him up to his feet. “Let’s go get some skates and roll around while we wait.”

Changbin’s eyes went wide and his feet screamed at him as he was jostled upright. It was going to hurt, but it didn’t matter. A bit of discomfort would be worth it to see the joyful look on Jeongin’s face as they glided around on the polished floor, waiting for the colours to slowly meld together and wrap around them in a hazy, yet incandescent rainbow.

“Wait a second,” Jeongin cackles and drops the laces of his skates. “You mean to tell me you’re twenty-five and you’ve never been good at skating? Dude. Your childhood must’ve been boring as shit.”

“Come on,” Changbin drawls, sighing as he pouts at the younger man. “The only physical activity I really like is weightlifting, and that’s not even a frequent hobby of mine. I’d rather get baked after work and listen to records while laying on the floor.” The two men stare at each other for a minute, then burst into laughter.

“Alright, I can see you getting baked, but weightlifting? As if, man.” Jeongin shakes his head and bends back down to finish tying his laces. “Librarians aren’t supposed to be buff and shit, that’s not how that works at all.”

A sarcastic huff escapes Changbin’s lips. He drops to the floor, grabbing Jeongin’s hands and looking up to the younger man, his face getting dangerously close, close enough to almost brush their lips together. They stare at each other for a moment, the air stilling around them, before the older man moves to touch their cheeks together, lips against Jeongin’s ear. “You also said librarians aren’t supposed to be hot, but I proved you wrong with that, too.” Changbin lets go of Jeongin’s hands, moving them to dance his fingertips against the top of the neon man’s thighs. “Let me see how many times I can prove you wrong tonight.”

Jeongin lets out a shaky gasp, pressing his cheek up against the older man’s, moving in close as if he was about to kiss him, but Changbin pulls away too quickly, winking at him before he moves down to help tie his laces. “God,” the younger man sighs, throwing his head back and subtly rolling his hips in his chair to readjust, “you’re a tease, man. That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair sometimes. Gotta have the dark to appreciate the light.” Changbin smirks to himself as he finishes knotting the laces in his hands. He makes his way to his feet, awkwardly stumbling a bit before he reaches his hands down in front of Jeongin. “Shall we?”

Jeongin takes one of Changbin’s hands and helps himself upright. “Awfully confident for someone who can’t skate.” He smiles, then gently tugs the older man towards the open air of the entrance of the rink.

Changbin sucks air in through his teeth as he starts to move, flailing his free hand a bit as he awkwardly shuffles his feet to help him move with a bit more purpose. They step on to the glossy hardwood floor, and Jeongin spins around, skating backwards as he pulls Changbin along. He reaches out for the older man’s other hand, which Changbin carefully reaches down and grabs. They interlace their fingers together, staring longingly at each other.

“I trusted you with the acid,” Jeongin says at a volume just loud enough to carry over the song roaring through the speakers, “now trust me with the skating, yeah?”

Changbin nods, his face slightly wrinkled up in nervousness. He bites his lip, starting to get the hang of the way they slid around the floor, only having some issues with the rounded corners. People were flying past them, but it didn’t matter. The only thing Changbin wanted to focus on was Jeongin.

“You’re getting it,” the younger man smiled, standing totally upright and pulling the older man closer to him, maybe just a few centimetres away from each other. They smile softly at one another, slowing down a bit as Changbin started to get lost in the way the brilliant lighting warmed against Jeongin’s face, highlighting his high cheekbones and his soft lips.

There was nothing more that Changbin wanted than to kiss those lips.

As he was leaning in, Jeongin let go of his hands. “You teased me earlier,” he scoffed, “now you’ve gotta earn that kiss.” He looks over his shoulder, then turns back and smiles. “You’ve gotta make one full loop around: from the entrance and back. Then you’ll have earned that kiss from me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to protest, flailing around a bit, and Jeongin winks and practically flies away on his skates. He grits his teeth and huffs. “I’m gonna show you, goddammit.” The black-haired man frowns in determination, getting bolder with each stride he takes. Jeongin loops around again when he’s about halfway through, sticking his tongue out and blowing him a kiss as he spins around and jumps up into the air, landing perfectly back onto his feet. The younger man is off in a flash again, a trail of pink following him as he rolls away.

Oh. Changbin shakes his head as he comes around a corner. The acid had started to kick in and things got a little brighter, colours blurring together in the distance, lazily trailing around in a stutter as he moved around. He stared at the entrance of the rink, maybe fifty metres away, smiling to himself as he got closer and closer. At about twenty metres, Jeongin flew past him and veered off towards the wall, waiting with a smile.

As he approached Jeongin, Changbin intentionally didn’t slow down as much as he should have. He slowed a bit, and the younger man winced a bit and recoiled, preparing for a rough impact. However, the crash never came. Changbin pressed his hands into Jeongin’s chest as he got close, gently colliding against him, both of them landing against the wall.

They didn’t say anything. Changbin snaked a hand to Jeongin’s hip, and another up under his jaw, pulling it up into his. Their lips danced up against each others’, and there’s an electrical feeling that runs through Changbin’s veins, a spark between them. Their noses brush, nuzzling into the other as their lips open.

Jeongin tastes like lemon-lime soda and vodka, his tongue feeling almost like it was still covered in carbon dioxide as it rolled around Changbin’s. The older man digs his thumb into the younger man’s hip, causing a muffled squeak to roll up into his throat. An explosion of yellows and greens cloud Changbin’s vision as sounds start to translate into colours and haptic sensations.

It almost feels like they’re meant to be. Jeongin is the treble to Changbin’s bass. The light to his darkness. He is the neon glow stick to his dark, unlit candle. It may have been the drugs and the alcohol heightening everything, but from the way their humour complemented each other, to their oddities being so different yet similar, to the way that how sweet Jeongin’s kiss was against Changbin’s sour lips, everything was perfect.

“You’re perfect,” Changbin breathes into Jeongin’s mouth. “I don’t know why,” he pulls the younger man’s bottom lip gently between his teeth as he pulls away, staring up into half-open eyes, “but I just feel it.” The synth music beating along in the background practically pushes them closer, inviting them to stay wrapped up into one another.

Jeongin pushes back up against Changbin’s lips for a quick, hasty kiss that feels like electric pink and sparkling green. “It’s the drugs, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“I’m serious,” Changbin smiles at the sweetness of Jeongin’s lips against his again. “Like, your cheekbones. They’re so prominent, sharp, perfect. Your whole face just radiates brilliance. It’s like all of the colours dance off of your face and wrap it in this warm energy that demands attention.”

“Your lips are perfect,” Jeongin retorts with a laugh. “The way that your face wrinkles up when you smile. I wanna take that in, make you laugh for hours just to watch you scrunch your face together. Listen to the way your laugh staccatos discordantly against the music playing in the background.”

A warmth spreads in Changbin’s stomach, deep purples and pinks blending around the edges of his vision. It was time. He decides to finally bite the bullet, swallowing hard as he tries to keep his volume low enough for only Jeongin to hear him, “I wanna hear you say it again.”

There’s a short pause as Jeongin stills. “What’re you talking about?”

Changbin pushes Jeongin into the wall, rubbing his waist against the younger man’s. “Last night,” he trails his lips up Jeongin’s cheek, all the way up to his ear, “you told me you wanted me. Needed me.”

There’s a burst of orange as Jeongin laughs. “That’s right, isn’t it? Whatcha gonna do if I tell you that again, now that I have you here in my hands?” His hands quickly slap up against Changbin’s ass, grabbing it tightly. “We’re still in public, baby.”

A strangled moan accidentally comes from Changbin, feeling every nerve in his spine erupt in baby blues and jarring yellows at the younger man’s touch. “I don't care where we are. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he whispers, nibbling on the earlobe in front of him. “I’m going to steal you away, pull you away into the washroom, and I’m gonna fuck you up against the tiling or the wallpaper or whatever dingy shit they’ve got in there.”

It was like nobody was around, not that anyone was paying attention, anyways. The two of them ground up against each other, practically fucking as everyone went along with their lives around them. They were far from the only ones becoming so acquainted on the hardwood floor, but it didn’t matter. As far as Changbin was concerned, they were the only two people in the room, in the entire building, in the entire world.

“It’s tiling,” Jeongin whispers and bites Changbin’s ear, causing a neon rainbow, rippling in time to the music around them, to cloud his vision. “I let you take control over the phone last night, so I’m gonna do the fucking tonight. Come on.”

Changbin doesn’t have the wherewithal to protest as he’s dragged away by Jeongin, pulling them off towards the flickering, nauseatingly yellow-tinted halogen that illuminated the washroom door. Somehow, they had gotten lucky and nobody was in the entire washroom. They roll into the large stall towards the back. Jeongin locks the door behind them and pushes Changbin against the back wall, crashing their lips together.

The weird mixture of normal lighting with blacklight paints a strange picture against the back of Changbin’s eyelids. Each grazing of Jeongin’s teeth on his lips causes purple lines to streak down a backdrop of orange and crimson.

Warm. Jeongin was warm. Everything about him radiated warm colours and energy, even if his hair was the opposite of that.

Jeongin trails his lips down Changbin’s neck, and he grazes his teeth against the soft skin. “Wait,” the older man quietly protests, “don’t do anything that’ll leave a mark there.”

“Why not?” Jeongin looks up to the older man and smirks. “Afraid your coworkers and students are gonna find out you’re actually a bit of a freak who wants to get fucked in public?”

“Actually,” Changbin huffs, “kinda, yeah. Anything below the neck is fair game, though.

“I respect that.” Jeongin huffs, tugging the loose neckline of Changbin’s shirt down, exposing his collarbone. “Oh,” he pauses, cocking his head to the side. “781?”

Changbin hums, flushing in slight embarrassment, as he feels Jeongin’s eyes on his tattoo. “Dewey Decimal Classification. Music theory call number. That’s why there’s a treble clef next to it.”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd. That’s hot as hell.” The younger man groans, then starts desperately sucking and biting up against the sensitive flesh.

Changbin doesn’t try to hide a needy whine at the sensation of Jeongin’s teeth against his skin. His hips roll up subconsciously, craving for some sort of stimulation against his growing erection. “Jeongin,” he whimpers, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

The younger man relinquishes the skin from his teeth. “Funny,” he says, standing up and looking down at the older man, pressing their hips together. “Neither do I.”

They wantonly kiss each other as they fumble with their pants. Jeongin tosses his beret to the floor, pulling out a condom and a small, travel-sized bottle of lube out from his back pocket. “As much as I love kissing those lips of yours and looking at your face,” he pulls away, quickly pressing a kiss to Changbin’s forehead, “this is gonna be a lot easier if you turn around.”

A nervous laugh bubbles up from Changbin as he somehow manages to roll around, pressing his hands up against the clammy tiling. He bends over slightly, pressing his hips against Jeongin’s crotch, eliciting a small groan from the younger man. Within a moment, thumbs are haphazardly tugging his waistband down, exposing his skin to the warm, open air.

“Your ass is really nice,” Jeongin takes in a quick breath and ghosts his fingers over the smooth skin.

“You say that now,” Changbin whispers as streams of green drift up from the corners of his vision, “but wait until you’re actually inside me.”

A desperate huff comes from Jeongin. “Fuck,” he groans, squeezing some lube on to his fingers and bringing his hand up to the older man’s perineum, dragging them up slowly to rub against his entrance. “I’ve been thinking about this nonstop since you told me you’d fuck me against your stupid work desk.” He coaxes a finger inside, and Changbin whines, rubbing his cheek against the dingy washroom tile. “I was ready to come right then and there. I didn’t know you’d be that much of a freak when Seungmin told me you were a librarian.”

Jeongin’s finger curls around a bit as he explores around, causing Changbin to let out soft little pants as his skin stretched against the finger. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he manages to grumble in between pants, “or how freaky I am. Maybe one day I’ll show you my collection of glass sex toys I keep hidden under my bed.”

Another finger slips in, and another moan loudly comes from the panting librarian. “Keep it down. Don’t wanna get kicked out with a hard-on, do you?” Changbin weakly nods, his eyes rolling back as he bites his lips and moves against Jeongin’s fingers. The younger man continues to stretch the sensitive skin as he gently rolls both of his fingers around, occasionally separating them in a scissoring-like motion.

Changbin bites back a loud, throaty moan, bringing his hand up to his mouth so he can bite on his knuckle. Colours rippled around in discordant patterns, roughly clashing up against each other, sparks of white popping up at random. “Jeongin,” he whines out, voice slightly muffled.

The younger man shudders at the sound of his name being uttered, and he slips his ring finger inside. As soon as the finger is completely inside of Changbin, the older man throws his head back and slips a bit on his skates. Jeongin grabs his hip tightly with his free hand. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers, in a soft, loving voice, “I’m not gonna let you fall. I’ll keep you safe right here, so let yourself go.”

Changbin’s hand leaves his mouth and slams up against the wall, curling his fingernails into the grout between the tiles. He closes his eyes tightly and loses himself in the sensation of being filled by three fingers, slowly working his way up to being prepared for whatever Jeongin’s dick was going to feel like inside of him. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was when Jeongin’s middle finger curled up against his prostate and he arched his back in surprise.

“Jeongin,” he panted, rubbing his cheekbone into the tile, “fuck, there, right there.”

“Don’t worry,” the younger man reassures him, “all in due time. Trust me, a bassist knows what he’s doing when it comes to his fingers.”

“That’s,” Changbin pants again, “a terrible fucking pun.”

Jeongin rubs all three of his fingers in a circle, causing the older man to writhe under him. “Yeah, yeah,” he coos, “you don’t seem to actually be complaining, though.”

“I’m only gonna complain if you don’t shut up and fuck me here soon,” Changbin whines through gritted teeth. “I don’t wanna come unless it’s from your dick, alright?”

“Fine,” Jeongin grins, removing his fingers slowly, making sure to drag them down the walls of the sensitive skin around them. He pulls them out one by one, causing Changbin to twitch under him. Once his hand is free, he wrangles his cock from his pants, then rips the condom from the foil packet, sliding it onto him. He pulls the bottle of lube from his pocket, squirting a bit more onto his hand, stroking it on his cock. “You ready for me?”

“Yes,” Changbin turns his head, staring down Jeongin with half-lidded eyes. “I need you, Jeongin, please.”

The younger man smiles, then lines himself up against the elder’s entrance. “Whatever you want, babe.” Jeongin slides in, and the composure held in his face falters, lips parting and eyes rolling back a bit. His slick hand grabs Changbin’s other hip, digging his pinky and thumb tightly into his skin as he slowly makes his way completely inside. “Yeah, you were right. Your ass is much nicer now that I’m inside of you.”

“I know, I know. Jeongin, please, shut up and fuck me,” Changbin whines, rapidly panting as he’s filled. “I just wanna feel you fuck me senseless.”

“Needy,” Jeongin hisses through his teeth as he pulls back, then slams back into Changbin, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the tiling and linoleum, overtaking the muffled sounds of the electronica from the other room.

Everything felt and looked so much more vibrant thanks to the acid. Every thrust was another colour splattered up recklessly in Changbin’s vision. Sparks of light went flying every time Jeongin hit his prostate. Sex usually felt wonderful to Changbin; he wasn’t sure if it was because of the drugs specifically, or if it was Jeongin, or if it was both, but he was sure of one thing: this was an out-of-body experience. His mind was floating up in the sky, up along the stars, as if he was the main character in some bad science fiction space film.

“Jeongin,” he panted, continuing to cry out the younger man’s name like a mantra.

The blue-haired man panted heavily, taking the hand previously inside Changbin and wrapping it around his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby, I’m gonna make a mess out of you.”

The colours in Changbin’s vision slowly started to turn white, ribbons of pink and blue in the shades of Jeongin wrapping around the edges of his sight. “Shit,” a throaty moan escaped his throat, “I’m gonna come, Jeongin, don’t fucking stop. Fuck, please don’t stop. Don’t stop. Ah, god, fuck, I—“

His back arched, fingernails dragging down the walls as Changbin tried, and failed, to keep himself from shouting Jeongin’s name at a loud volume. The younger man pumped him one last time, and cum splattered up against the wall, dripping down onto the floor, as the older man collapsed into the tiling.

“Fuck, that’s so good, you’re so good, Changbin,” he pulled back and then slammed into the older man one more time, curling into his back a bit, stabilizing his stance by gripping Changbin’s hip. He spilled his cum into the condom, and the two of them stood there and panted for what seemed like forever.

After several minutes, Jeongin pulled out, shakily standing back upright. “What the fuck was that, dude?” He laughed, and Changbin managed to stumble himself back up to a vertical position.

The older man rapidly blinked as he came back down from space, and he let out a long sigh. “Amazing, that's what that was,” he pulled his pants up from off of the floor, haphazardly fastening the button of his jeans together just enough. Changbin awkwardly rolls a bit, then pulls Jeongin into him by the neck, the two of them exchanging a warm, soft kiss with each other.

They kiss for only a moment or so. “We should probably clean up a little bit and then get out of here.” Jeongin chuckles once. “You kind of made a mess and I’m sure we probably scared off some people.

“You’re the reason I made that mess,” Changbin quips. “Besides, we’re not the only ones that have fucked in here tonight, I bet. We won’t be the last, either.”

After a bit of awkwardly shuffling around in skates, some commentary about never fucking in roller skates again, and a bit of cleanup, they emerge from the stall. Jeongin rolls over to the sink to wash his hands, smiling at Changbin through the mirror. “I think I’m gonna like you,” he says, and the older man makes eye contact with him through the mirror, then rolls up next to him.

“Yeah?” He presses a kiss up to the younger man’s cheek and adjusts the beret on his head. “You say that now, but wait until I go on a rant about the Library of Congress’ organizational system versus the Dewey Decimal Classification, or about how dumb university students can be.”

Jeongin turns his head and gently kisses Changbin’s lips as water drips down from his hands. “It’ll be cute, I bet. You had me hooked at listening to records and smoking weed while laying on the floor, but nerdy ranting? Icing on the cake, man.”

Changbin scoffs and grabs a couple of towels from the dispenser behind the younger man. “Stop dripping all that water over my skates, dude. Maybe you should come home with me and we can find out just how fun that all actually turns out to be.”

“I think that’s—“ Jeongin starts to speak, taking the towels from Changbin, until they’re distracted by the loud squeaking of the washroom door. They both turn to look at the noise, and Changbin’s not really sure if he’s imagining what he’s seeing due to drugs.

“Changbin?” The voice of the intruder sounds as shocked as Changbin feels.

“Chan?” Jeongin squints as his face as he looks at the man that walks in.

The three of them awkwardly stare at each other, and Changbin frowns. “You know him?” He asks Jeongin, who stares back at him with wide eyes.

Jeongin shrugs his shoulders. “It was, like, a year or so ago, but yeah. You slept with him, too?”

#roller rinks and raspberry berets #sks smut #skz fics #seo changbin x yang jeongin #yang jeongin x seo changbin #jeongbin #changbin x jeongin #jeongin x changbin #wherevermyway

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