#(or should i say pa— *i am forcefully dragged from the room*)

[pokimoko]

If you’re doing pride animals still do you think you could make a pan tiger maybe? If not that’s ok ofc :)

I can absolutely do that for you, my friend. Here you are!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

You weren't a jealous person by nature. 

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway. 

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least. 

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it. 

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered. 

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red. 

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything. 

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp. 

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket. 

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows. 

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction. 

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you. 

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway. 

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

-

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two. 

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited. 

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine. 

"What'd he do?" 

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight? 

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking. 

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe. 

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys. 

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air. 

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again. 

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop. 

And then you realized that he, too, was crying. 

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation. 

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest. 

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist. 

"Don't..." 

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now? 

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably. 

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain. 

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him. 

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten. 

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties. 

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy. 

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief. 

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow. 

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air. 

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm. 

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before. 

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard. 

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving. 

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap. 

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face. 

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake. 

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around. 

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes. 

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm. 

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control. 

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering. 

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second. 

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

-

part iii

--

masterpost

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Fire For You

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles,Harry Styles/Omc x2

Rating : Strong R 100% porn w/o plot tbh

Warnings: *cracks knuckles* orgies,sex parties, anal sex, male oral sex, female oral sex, anal play, sub!dom play, drug use, vaginal penetration, squirting

A/N: Look, never posted fic. And I haven't checked anything 😳 Due to the heavily noted anon prompt fluttering around my dash that read: "My friend went to some weirdo eyes wide shut kind of party in the Hollywood Hills last year and overheard 'yeah you can't use that room, Harry Styles is high as fuck and getting railed by some dudes in there" plus that damn 🍉 video... well, I am at peak feral in quarantine and 3k of smut just popped right out. Title actually the Cannons song cos it's such a sex song innit? I'm doing this at 4.20am after starting this at 11pm my time so..good fucking night. ✌🏻🍉

—--------------------------------------------

You were petrified. 

You'd moved halfway across the world with your best friend after a shitty person broke your heart and your spirits. 

A circumstantial opportunity had arisen to become her PA,after her chance audition for a series had turned into cult viewing overnight.

She was everything you weren't. Confident, effortlessly cool and entirely comfortable in her own skin and sexuality. That's why, as she sauntered away with a tuxedo clad tall stranger, you stood frozen on the spot trying to remember it was okay to watch. 

It had been her idea for you to submit an application after you'd said you needed to take risks and feel good in your skin again. Your best friend had told you you were wasting your youth, after years wasted on the ex you were in this country trying to forget. That you should embrace you were young, hot, single and getting older by the second. So you'd rolled your eyes and submitted your video application. You wouldn't get a reply for such an elite thing. 

And yet, here you now were, in a millionaires mansion watching two men fuck a bunny masked stranger infront of you. She looks up at you through the velveteen eye holes and offers you to join with her finger come hithering you over. Your eyes widen. 

You immediately remember your stiff upper lip and bound up the right hand staircase as fast as your heels will allow. Hoping to find a cool place to catch your breath. 

Maybe you weren't as free spirited as you were in your head. Open to trying things theoretically, but now, as you see a flurry of naked bodies out of your peripheral vision and hear sounds you'd only heard in more private settings, you felt quite overwhelmed. 

You were no virgin but not to say you could count on two hands your conquests past kissing either. 

You came to the one shut door at the end of the long hallway, assuming it was a bathroom. Heels clicking against the pristine marble floor below as you approached. You put your hand to the cold metal handle, if you weren't prepared to see strangers fuck, you certainly weren't prepared for this. 

There were five people in the room. 

Three men on the bed and two women. The first woman sat open thighed across a low backed plush chair. Another on all fours on the floor licking into the others cunt as one guy stuck his fingers into her own folds from behind. He was then, with the rest of his olive skinned built body, sharply thrusting into the man on the bed at such a pace you could hear his balls slap against the sweat glistening flesh. He held his hip nearest to you so tightly, you could see the red marks appear from under his large hands. 

The slender man receiving all this action was being silenced in his pleasure by the guy kneeling up in front of him. He hummed loudly through his nose as his mouth was busy bobbing up and down the guys length. Eyes closed in the orange low light as he was thrust into still, with such force he deep throated the guy he was swallowing down. He suddenly gagged and the man moaned then pulled his head away and nodded to signal if he was okay to continue, he agreed then he got right back down to business. 

It was probably one of the more explicit scenes she'd seen. Making her feel hot and cold all at once. Not because of what was happening, no, it was who it was. 

His face was disguised by a navy blue, high winged, theatrical mask. As were those involved, or some variation at least. 

You heard a voice beside you at the door frame. A deep voice talking to a white bunny beside him

"Nah, that rooms got enough going on, Harry Styles is high as fuck getting railed by two dudes" 

And that's all the confirmation you damn well needed. You'd been in L.A three weeks. Three weeks was all it had taken for you to be stood watching Harry fucking Styles getting Eiffel towered by two guys in the Hollywood Hills whilst you watched, mouth agape in barely any underwear. 

No one had seemed to notice your intrusion, if the screaming of the red head  in the chair reaching her climax was anything to go by. She rode out her high on the blondes face before getting up, lighting a joint and pulling the blonde up by roots. No real concern that she hadn't climaxed from Mr. Powerthrusts fingers yet. Dragging the young white cat back towards the door with a glistening mouth and chin, you were still entranced at the boy on the bed pooling your sheer briefs and the sight before you. 

The redhead looked at you, to where your focus was on, then back to you. Giving one condescending chuckle. Still with the small blonde girls hair in a vice hold she spoke roughly into your ear as she passed. 

"He's soft and ready to go sugar, strike whilst he's still loose" with that, she kisses your cheek and her Loboutins clicked away from you. 

You stood there. Tits up to your chin from the force of the practically sheer black bra you were spilling out of, the suspender belt grasped your hourglass shape perfectly too. There was delicate, black designer underwear framed by the belt and thigh high stockings. You'd felt beyond confident at the beginning of the party. New eyes dragging over you in a way they didn't when you were in your regular get up of jeans and a t shirt. But behind the Japanese type kitsune half mask, you had felt invincible.

Right up until the point people actually started fucking. 

But this, this was different. 

You'd never been into guy on guy action, not even in porn. It didn't ignite any fire inside the pit of your stomach like it should. But seeing someone you'd casually ogled through the media like the other few million in the world had, well the chances of being in this position again were rare. Suddenly, the thrill of being able to possibly turn dream into reality spurred you on. He'd never know it was ever you if you met again right? 

The three of them were still going at it. Powerthruster behind, contorting his face as he placed smack after smack across the pale flesh of Harry's ass. Grabbing a fistful in each hand as he sped up even more to reach his climax, he cried out when he did pulling Harry's hips flush against his own, it was only now, amongst all the activity that you notice Harry's cock for the first time. 

The rumours online highly underestimate it. 

He's long and thick and his drippy head is causing a string of pre cum to trail from its opening onto the white silk sheets below. 

You clamp a hand between your thighs, the first time you feel your inhibitions falter that night. You had to relieve some of the friction your body needs. Watching the man remove himself, and toss the condom in the bin by the door frame you were still fixed to. 

Harry scrambles to the other muscular guy infront of him, kneeling back on his calves, hissing a little as his legs under each cheek spread his already tender hole a bit. He doesn't miss a beat though, the already close to orgasming guy looking down at green doe eyes as he pushes Harry's mouth from him. Harry knows where this is leading and opens his mouth for him spill his seed onto his waiting tongue. 

By this point you'd moved quietly from the door and across the wall so you were in prime position to watch Harry swallow all this man's cum whilst you just stood watching. 

Feeling like a pervert, feeling turned on, feeling fucking everything to be frank. You'd question it later. Right now you needed Harry to touch you. 

One leg kicked up behind you so you could slightly part your thighs and rub your middle finger down your folds beneath your knickers. You began to put on a show. The other hand is inside your bra cupping and squeezing your nipple between your index and forefinger sharply. Panting quietly as you see Harry's eye clock you in his peripheral vision. You're terrified of his reaction for a second before remembering the setting of the evening, but he smirks the best he can do with an open mouth and looks you up and down slowly. His dick twitches in his lap and that's all it takes for you to start rubbing two soaked fingers fast against your clit, your ego inflated that you could be the cause of his heightened arousal. You're going at such a pace on yourself that you almost don't catch the ropes of cum descending into Harry's mouth as he watches you trying to get the release his actions have caused. The guy stills, spent. Harry is still watching you pant faster as you take the hand on your breast away to steady a palm against the wall. He holds the guys cum in his mouth before tearing his eyes away from yours to kneel up and place an opened mouthed kiss onto the guys lips, transferring him back into his own mouth, forcefully. Switching the dominant role back in his favour to show you who was really in control in the room despite how it may have looked. He breaks the kiss, both men chuckle at each other before Harry taps the other guys cheek with his palm playfully. Like his just scored a goal at the Sunday football league, but definitely not like they'd both shared a mouthful of semen. 

Your pace has slowed down slightly but you see him whisper something into the man's ear before he hops off the bed, grabbing only his black briefs and closing the door behind him. But not before saying "have fun" to you with a knowing wink. 

It suddenly feels very intimate. When there were a few more people in the room it felt easier to blend into the festivities, but now you were essentially alone with a stranger who was watching the slow movements of your hands in your underwear. You decided to carry on, to keep up the pretence that this is the sort of thing you do all the time of course. 

It wasn't. 

So when he stands straight up off the bed, taking the few steps towards you, slightly pouting into the air as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and gently grabs your wrist that leads to the hand on your pussy  bringing the two digits that had been furiously rubbing your clit, up to his mouth. He never breaks his gaze as he sucks them fully, with the same technique you'd just seen on that man's dick minutes previous. Closing his eyes and humming approvingly at your sweet taste. 

Your insides are screaming but your present body moans and he drops the hand to grab your waist and pull you tight to his torso. He kisses you hungrily and you taste mostly of yourself and try not to think about the other taste from the strangers cum on your tongue. 

He kisses you like he's getting to know you through this alone, grazing his palms from your waist to your shoulder blades then back down slowly to your ass, gripping it tightly to his body as he hooks a thigh over his hip. His cock is sandwiched between you, droplets of pre cum on both your bellies. The crotch of your underwear is rubbing his length slightly as you rock your hips down onto his. 

His tongue is lapping and swirling languidly against yours, it's unexpected given the setting but, it's fucking glorious. You grab fistfuls of curls at the back of his head between your fingers and once you get to the nape and give a sharp tug on the baby hair there, his breathing hitches. 

"You're quite good at this" he says casually,taking a breath. You pant in response and chuckle slightly. Mostly at the contrast of moods he appears to have. 

"Not s'bad yourself" you smile. 

There's a heartbeat whilst he takes in your accent similar to his own he pulls back, brows furrowed causing his forehead to wrinkle down slightly at the top of the blue mask. This isn't the time to get to know one another though, you get that, and despite your reservations on this place you suddenly don't give a shit. You push your mouth into his neck suckling lightly and finding a sweet spot at his pulse that has him shaking. His nimble pianist fingers undo the flimsy material of your bra as he goes back to the weirdly passionate make out session, you let it fall off your shoulders, shaking it down your arms to the ground. 

He walks you both back to the bed and sits down pulling you to straddle his thighs. You both moan at the reconnection and don't miss a beat rolling your hips over his slowly. Giving him a taste of what's to come. He grunts through his teeth out of frustration, pulling away from you both once more to reach blindly for the fishbowl of condoms, provided by the host, on the nightstand. 

"Fucked anyone else tonight?" he asks matter of factly. 

Your eyes looked shocked, even though they probably shouldn't be. You furiously shake your head. 

"Hm" he chuckles as you lay your hands in your lap submissively, he clearly notices and you see an eyebrow raise over the mask. "that mean you're a good girl?" 

Cottoning on to the game he's starting, and that you're more than willing to take part in, you take one side of your bottom lip between your teeth and nod quickly. 

This is an absolute fantasy. But you're aware you could get interrupted at any moment so you'll take what you can get before being pushed out, and no doubt off, this absolute wet dream of a man. 

He tears the packet open with his fingers, sitting back, a little hunched over to roll the rubber down his length. He hisses at the brief contact after being edged so much the last hour or so. You start to wonder how he's keeping up his stamina before he sits back up, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and interrupts. 

"Gonna be a good girl f'me then love?" he leans forward places wet opened mouth kisses at each of your breasts in between his words, looking you straight in the eye. "Gonna slip those pants to the side and get on me then?" 

No sooner had he spoke, you were grabbing his cock in your palm with one hand, and pulling the crotch of your soaked fabric to one side with the other. You hadn't done this in a fair few months and definitely never taken a cock as big as his, but your arousal was so high that you were desperate for the sweet pain of being stretched around him. You pumped him barely as to not roll up the condom, just grazing him and feeling him twitch in your fist as he watched you briefly stick two fingers into your cunt. The wetness being heard as you opened your mouth and gasped at the sensation. You didn't want to waste anymore time checking you were prepared so you scooted forwards on his lap. Brushing his swollen head against your clit, before tapping it a few time as you sunk down onto his length. It burned so good as you got to about halfway before lifting yourself up and sinking down again further. It took three times of doing that to be completely seated and drowning his cock in your juices as your pelvises locked together. You both took a second to pant out curses against each others necks. 

"Jesusfuck. You're so fuckin' tight. Can you move? Fuck! Please move" he strained into your throat. 

You sat back a bit so you were facing one another and with fingers pulling at those nape hairs you reconnected your mouths before rolling your hips experimentally against his. 

"Oh fuuuuck" you shot out, the feeling of him so deep inside you and him pressing against your clit was other worldly. The friction of the underwear you still had on, gathered between your folds and caused the sweetest friction. He grunted once as your jaw lay slack at the contact, before getting impatient and guiding your hips to slam into him harder as he thrust up at the same time. 

Your head was spinning. 

His strong hands pulled you close to him he smeared your lips together as he flipped you so he was on top, manoeuvring you up the bed and slightly diagonal so his feet didn't dangle off the edge. 

It became a power battle then. You knew he was on the edge and holding back. He pulled a leg to hitch around his waist and thrust into you at speed. Enough to leave you sore tomorrow. You smirked into his mouth, pulling both up further to lock behind his neck, knowing the angle would make it so much tighter and so much easier to reach that sweet spot inside you. With your head thrown back at the new angle he began leaving marks around your neck and breasts, trying so hard not to cum before you. 

Then you had a brilliant, foolproof idea of how to win this game. As he was preoccupied leaving a red mark against your clavicle, you sucked your middle finger into your mouth for your planned attack. Before you could do anymore though, he moved two of his digits against your soaked clit at speed, tapping every now and then and making you writhe and grip the sheets with overstimulation. You held off best you can but he was hitting that spot that few had taken much longer to find before. You knew what was coming but it was too late to warn him. 

Your orgasm took over your body from the middle down to your toes and up until your eyes practically rolled back in your head. You heard the lewd, wet sounds his thrusts were still making and wanting to even things up you made a quick recovery enough to part your mouth and make your middle finger drip with saliva as you gripped his ass to guide him into you. You could tell by his speed he was almost there so you went between his cheeks with your slick finger and suddenly buried it inside him to the hilt. He was still stretched from the previous guy so you sink to the knuckle easily. It only took two movements to feel him spill inside you. Long drawn out moans left his lips like a dirty drawl from his throat. You took out your finger and went slack onto the mattress. 

He was spent but he wasn't done. 

As he pulled out of you carefully, gushes of your cum cascaded down onto the expensive sheets. If he didn't know you were a squirter, he did now. He stared watching it fall from your weepy hole blind removing the condom and tossing it into the bin behind. 

"Holy fuck. I.. I've never managed that before. You're a fucking dream….so fucking sexy. Fuck" he looked at you like a feast. Your saturated underwear stretched out beyond repair now. Laying against your thigh and the material dripping. He pulled the stockings from their clips quickly, not taking them off but so he could peel the knickers from your sticky thighs. You noticed he threw them down near what you assumed to be his tux. 

And that was it, he pushed your thighs up and back to your body so your knees were flush against your chest. You felt some of your cum still seeping out if you and he growled watching the last few drops drip down your bum and onto the bed. 

He dove into you like he'd not eaten in weeks. Lapping every bit of fluid from your pussy, clit, thighs and ass. He licked around your puckered hole as he sink two fingers into your cunt at pace. 

"You got one more in there for me hmm?"

He said huskily, keeping one arm across your thighs as he sat up on his haunches to look down on you falling apart. You nodded frantically, feeling the bubbles in your stomach growing again. You felt the pressure build between your thighs. Completely living in this moment with this beautiful man you got to see so desperate for you to cum. He dived back in to trace figure eights across your clit with the tip of his tongue before laying it flat and going up over it again and again. He alternating the two before you were ready to burst. He felt it on his fingers so he stilled them inside you still lapping at clit but using his whole arm to move at speed up and down to keep pushing at that one ridge inside you. When he felt the first wave of your climax hit he quickly put his face infront of your cunt and let the force of your squirt hit him the face. He caught a good amount in his mouth before repeating the signature move of crawling back up to your face and getting your soft, limp body to open up so he could spit your cum back into your mouth. It was tart but sweet probably due to the pina coladas you'd sipped downstairs to get you loosened up a bit. 

"Good girl. Swallow, show me y've swallowed it all up" he panted kneeling at your side. 

You gulp and meekly open your mouth to prove it was all gone and he smirks and gives you a slow, lazy Sunday kind of kiss that sends its shivers down your spine. You stare at each other as he sweeps your sweet drenched hair from the front of your face. You're not sure what suddenly changed in the room but you've created your own bubble. Your own bubble where a millionaire pop star a Jenner has shagged, whispers praises against the shell of your ear in some sort of awe and kisses your neck and face tenderly. What even is life? 

It's stupid but you don't want to go. Well, it's not stupid as this boy is a hurricane in the sheets and why would you not want more!

But you know the deal. This isn't a date. This is an elite fuck party. A. Fuck. Party. 

The realisation dawns on you like a thorn to the side. You can't just lay here in a post orgasmic comatose state. There's people waiting, people he's waiting on too. He sees your eyes widen and watches in confusion as you take a white robe from the hook behind the door, still in your heels you pick up your bra. You smile briefly before closing the door behind you and practically sprinting to your car. 

Not before seeing the guy Harry had been deepthoating earlier, now standing fully clothed with a headset at the door you'd just come out of with a suit and headset on. Like nothing had ever happened. Of course you weren't interrupted. Of course he had security. You rush back down the staircase before you have a panic attack in plain sight. Your thoughts scrambled beyond what you thought was capable. Did that really just happen? With him? Is this who you are now?

It's only when you get to the end of the street after texting a quick "sorry wasn't my scene, call me when you need picking up" to your mate before leaving that you're suddenly aware you're missing your underwear...

[honestsycrets]

Like Me VI: Giving In

❛ pairing | ivar x oi!reader

❛ word count | 3k+

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | ivar misses his dear friend. he seeks to give her all she wants. even if it includes him.

❛  warnings | rivalry, jealousy, arguing, one of them will kill the other.

The worst part of being a walking cripple was to have to endure the need to be in the goodwill of the only other cripple you knew that could walk as well.

“Ow!” Your fingers deepen in strokes upon the bird whose claws hollow the glove you wear. The blacksmith recoils from your nasty cry in the back of the royal quarters. Your earrings jingle as you shake your head to rid yourself of the sting that came from the blacksmith’s clanging. Your friend rears his head from his goblet of ale to your seat, grinding tooth together.

“What are you doing to her?” Ivar seethes. “She is screaming.”

“It is too tight on her legs, King Ivar. It is restricting movement.” He rumbles. “I was only adjusting them for improvement.”

Ivar droves off of his chair, dragging himself along the floor toward you. He sits himself up, dragging the leather strap of his bound legs directly in front.

“If her legs come out of that injured, you’ll answer to me, hm?” Ivar resounds with his war pick, flipping the blade at the blacksmith to reassure the man without question what will become of him.

“Uh-- of course, of course, my king. I will take these for repairs” He slips the braces off of your legs again, pulling the heavy straps of metal onto his arms as he stands. It doesn’t escape Ivar’s notice that you quickly chuck your dress over your notched legs to shield them from your view. Mangled legs, he reminds himself.

“Goodman,” Ivar replies with sycophantic smoothness as the man makes himself scarce from the room. You sit with your hands in your lap, one on top of another. Your lips have gone flat, calming your strokes across the bird. “Goodman… (Y/N)?”

“Yes?” You look toward the silken straps that bind your legs down. You need to bind them to be able to return home, this time on your forearms. The spirit of relaxation that you previously had with Ivar seems to have eviscerated in exchange for a tense and wary background.

“I did not mean what I said of your legs. And the prince. I was led by anger.” He reaches out to set his hand upon your knee.

“Rorik?” You say, leading him on to say the prince’s name. Ivar much rather eat his words than say the ruddy-haired prince that came with strange Persian, Swede and dark-skinned thralls. Yet if he had to in order to repair this relationship, he would.

“Rorik of Novgorod.” His thumb strokes your kneecap through your warm dress. Then, bouncing off your knee, he looks to you. “Sigrunn told me you saw him in the waters the other day. You enjoy his company, don’t you?”

“More than anything.” You answer too quickly. Enough that his face drops completely at your assertion. They are too soon, too raw. He clenches his jaw to avoid a raw reaction, tightening his grip upon your knee. He’s about to blow again, you know. In order to curb his brash reaction, your hands drop down to his gloved fingers. His Viking skin is calloused-- reflecting the days of his childhood and those of being truly Viking. The first touch that you had given him since the wedding and so he’ll take it.

“In another way, Ivar.” You say. “You are my friend, I understand our relationship. Freydis is a fair queen and you are a k--”

“A god.” Ivar cuts you off, dry in nature. “And you are a goddess. My equal.”

You’ve heard such things before from Freydis who worshiped Ivar’s feet in her own way. Still, you do not know what to say nor how to respond. Ivar brings the back of your palm to his lips, planting a gentle kiss upon the knuckle in tender care. Your love of the king always went like this. At times, tender and loving. At others, harsh and unforgiving.

“I have decided. As a goddess, you should be free to spend your time with who you wish without fear.”

Should you bend down on the floor and thank him for being such a fair and pious ruler? Your lips quirk into a smile, unable to contain it. Fighting Ivar in this state-- where his mind was degenerating… it would get you nowhere.

“So you approve of him becoming my lover?” You ask.

“I never said that.” Ivar sibilates when a white-hot prick of anger sears through his bones. “Only that I’m giving you an opportunity to choose.”

Your jaw relaxes, bending with your great beast on your arm. You lean to the shaved side of his head, planting a small kiss upon the scar that follows his cheekbone down. His cheeks almost could have reddened.

“Thank you, Ivar.”

He hates to admit it, but a gale of glee fills his stomach when you speak to him like that. Your voice is sweeter than his cups of mead. He feels as if he’s done something right when he notices the sharp eyes of the falcon on your other arm, his wings lifting as if he’s gotten too close.

“Where did you get that beast anyway?” He grumbles.

“Oh, the falcon?” You ask. “Rorik brought it to me from somewhere past Jorvik. Isn’t he cute?”

“He is anything but cute.” Ivar looks up and down the beast on your arm. “Babies are cute.”

“I heard Freydis is with child,” You gleam and know full heartedly that well, any child from their union was likely not Ivar’s in blood. You realize moments later, that it did not matter. The child was his in the soul. Freydis was right… this, this was good for him.

“I’m going to be a father.” His lips prick up, shifting the short hair of his mustache up along with it. “Do you want to be a mother, (Y/N)?”

Your heart drops, weak as you consider his suggestion. You shake your head at the absurdity of the statement and then look down to your skirts. Your face is practiced in emotion, eyes almost empty when Ivar shifts to look at you. No one expected a family of a cripple, of someone that could barely walk. How were you to chase a child? To care for a child? The thralls you would need!

“I don’t think so. I am a cripple.” You say after a moment in which your heart beats painful and deep. You relax your shoulders when Ivar leans up, coursing his hand along your thigh to your hips.

“So am I.” He leans in. His hand shifts up to the sky. “And Frigg has given me a child.”  

“It is easy for you, Ivar. You are a man.” You then groan, a tremulous sound from your lips. “I can’t imagine the strain in carrying a child. I have heard of bleeding, malformations and small children in women like me as little as they may be. Even sex makes me...”

“Whitehair hasn’t fucked you?” Ivar asks.

“Of course not!” You shout. Dyr, or so you decided to name him, flared his wings. You hush him back down. “I’m sorry. I-- Can I tell you something, Ivar?”

“Yes.” Ivar hands you a chunk of meat for your beast. He pecks determinedly at his dinner. You take a wary breath as you decide to put it out there and far more than that, trust Ivar again. Your bird takes the meat with keen interest.

“I want to be a grown woman. Not just because I am married. But everyone will see me for only my legs. Like you.”  

“I don’t see you as--”

“If I had been born like a normal woman.” You say sharp, but diaphanous in tone. Ivar feels the words before you actually finish them. “Would I have been your queen?”

There is no witty comeback from his lips this time. He turns to stare at you as if you’ve slapped him across the face instead of the other way around. You could have been, you think, and for a moment, you take in a long breath.

“No that-- that is…” Ivar stumbles.

“Ridiculous.” You say. The words scrape off your tongue, disdainful in an answer. Ivar has no other desire but to stop his slip up. Dyr swallows his dinner much like Ivar swallows his words. The gulf of emptiness in his stomach spreading. “Sigrunn!”

“Yes?” She turns the corner, clutching dark leather veils that are curtains. Her hands in front of her lap.

“Take Dyr. I am going home.”

As much as Ivar wants to ask you why you are like this… why you push him out, well, he can’t. He knows your affliction all too well. It’s his own.

It was late at night when Rorik heard the knock upon the door. His men shared the living space of the longhouse they took up in. His men were about the fire, roaring in laughter. He settles them down, roaring shut up! Shut up! As his booze sloshes over his pasty knuckles. As he works the latches, each harder than they should have been-- he hears the banter on the other side of the door.

“Why am I doing this?”

“To show her how deeply you care.”

“Yes and when she shows with child, what then?”

He pops the door open. Therein flesh and blood is Ivar standing arm and arm with his wife. Rorik stands in trousers alone, legs wrapped and stuffed in lazy boots. His tattoos blotch over his shoulder and chest.

“If it isn’t the god Ivar!” He roars, giving a lazy bow at the waist. Ivar’s hand flexes about his crutch, clearly debating if he should kill him now or later. “And Queen Freydis-- she’s far too pretty for you, you know.”

“Rorik.” One of his warriors intervene and cause a banter between the prince and his warband in words that Ivar truthfully cannot follow. They argue shortly in a quick swap of tongues before Rorik huffs forcefully out of his nose and steps aside to let them in.

“What can I help you with?” Rorik asks, forcefully closing the door with a lock. If Ivar was here to burn them too, as he learned Ivar was fond of, he probably wouldn’t do it if he was in here too.

“With her,” Ivar says.

“Her? Who her?” Rorik leads. Given the other day, he’s not sure if the moment in the bar or the wedding is the question. The men about him consider their prince as if they were entitled to know whatever was going on in his life.

“(Y/N).” Ivar starts. His headache was welling up in the front of his head. A furrow of newfound concern creases Rorik’s brow. He comes to sling his arm around Ivar’s shoulder to pull him from Freydis.

“Let us talk in private.” Ivar looks away from Freydis who sits confidently among the men. She motions him forward with a face as flat and hard as she ever wore among foreigners. His patience is visibly unwinding.

“What about (Y/N)?” He shows Ivar to his backroom, gripping the waistline of his pants once they got in. Ivar shifts around, head bobbing as he looks to the dark wooden walls, a spiraling shield up on the walls. A half wobbly smile takes his face. “Have you done something to her?”

“Have I done something to her?” Ivar’s gaze goes hard, voice grating at Rorik’s assertion. “If I were to do anything it would be to you.”

“Then get on with it.” Rorik flicks his hands into the air. He could have-- Ivar thinks. The man is drunk and incredulous. With his queen in the other room though, he would do nothing. To Rorik’s obvious amazement, Ivar holds up his gloved fingers.

“Shut up.” Ivar orders, soothing over any bite to his voice. “As little as I like you, I like seeing her upset less.”

Rorik snorts as he takes a few lazy paces around the room. The longer he stayed, the itchier his skin became. He scratches the long runic marks of his arms when finally Ivar finally admits why he is here.

“Have sex with her.” He says.It aches him to say, but he knows Rorik is the only one to see you than more than your disability. Perhaps, more than him. “She wants to be made a woman.”

Rorik’s brow lifts. He wants to laugh, but he can’t, he can only run his hand up through his loosened braids.

“Ahhh. King Ivar.” He says, acrid amusement festering in his gut. “I know you think you control her. I know you do! But you are late. She has asked me herself.”

“What?” No answers come to him though-- Rorik’s cocky smile simpers the waters of his tolerance into a full-blown boil. The foreigner comes up, patting Ivar’s shoulder.

“She wants me to deflower her,” Rorik says in a would-be-good-natured tone. “But I appreciate your approval, keeper of the keys. Truly. I’ve never heard anything better. I’ll keep it in my heart. Now is that all?”

Ivar’s hand flexes at his belt. His patience blown-- and the last semblance of a relationship torn.

“Yes.” He sneers, incredulously. “That is all.”

Perhaps Freydis was right. You needed someone. But there is no way that this man deserved you.

Rorik had sex with many women. But… not a cripple. He tried not to think of you in that way; crippled. His men consider it a fetish because why, in their eyes, would he want a cripple if he could want an able-bodied woman? Even Ivar did, making that heated request in the deep of night.

They didn’t understand.

“You won’t like them.”

“I’m certain I will.” He almost fights your hands upon your skirts, wet kisses moistening your neck as he ground himself against your shy body. Your knees knock together, too shy to let him see your pretty pussy behind your skirts. His other hand grabs all that you offer, squeezing your nipples between his thumb and index finger to tug gently.

“But what if you don’t?” You breathe out in a hushed gasp. “What if they are so disgusting that you run from them? Women are supposed to have gorgeous legs.”

“Shhhh…”

He knows why you’re so anxious. King Ivar, as he was told, told you that you had ‘mangled legs’ as you later recounted to him. It took work to dispel those fears and still you fought him. Even with Ivar’s so-called approval, men watched him wherever he went. They look for a foul up. A reason to kill him in justification so that you would not hate the king. His pride must be wounded because now, more eyes than ever, he feels the hate.

“You will,” Rorik says, growing hard in his heated desire against your side. The prince shifts over your body. “Just let me see them.”

You tug your blue skirts over your legs, squeezing your eyes and shifting your face away. It lets him take your body in. His piercing eyes glance over your twisted legs up to your hips. Rorik slides down between your legs, shifting one over each shoulder.

“Oh!” You squeak adorably.

“See! Look at you and that glorious--” Rorik spreads your lips apart, gazing at your well-kept pussy.

“Rorik, stop.” You say. He leans in, swirling his tongue against your inner lips. He pulls his head back once again, sweeping his tongue against your puffy wet pussy in smooth licks. Your head drops back, adjusting to this strange new feeling. Slowly you roll your hips down upon his tongue, gasping when Rorik gave a playful suckle against your outer folds.

“Why?” His laugh almost vibrates hot breath against your pussy. “I can’t wait to get my dick in that pretty pussy.”

Rorik moves on when you don’t respond, suckling playfully. The pads of his fingers playfully slap your wet pussy, delighting in the knowledge that you’re moist and wet for him. His tongue shifts down, flicking his tongue in the tight little hole.

“Mm, do you touch yourself, hm?” Rorik hums, nudging his nose against your folds. His beard tickles against your wetness, a soft but prickling feeling against your body. He goes to work, lapping and licking at your sweet pussy with loud slurping noises.

“No-- No.”

“You should. I can see it in my mind already.”

“Do you have to talk so much?” You weave his hair between your fingers, shoving him forward into your cunt when there’s a long, loud thwack, thwack, thwack at the door. You shift with your forearms, legs slipping off Rorik’s shoulders.

“Ignore it.” He says, turning his head to huff against your thighs.

“I have to get it. It could be Ivar.” You say and push past him. Rorik lets loose a long draw of annoyance. You slide down onto the ground, using your forearms and palms carry you over to the door, ignoring the hot pulse of your pussy engorged with the need for your orgasm that you denied yourself.

“It’s always fucking Ivar,” Rorik growls, low under his breath. You throw a look back at him that leaves the prince exasperated upon the bed.

“Be patient.”

“Patient!? Děva… I was that close!” Rorik drops back, flopping on the bed while you reach-- unfortunately with difficulty toward the door. The locks of the door are too high up when you’re out of your braces. Unfortunately, the blacksmith yet still had them.

“Rorik, please. Sigrunn needs her rest.” You call out to him, pointing toward the door. He flips his hand midway in the air, dramatically dropping on his chest.

“I’m coming.” He pushes himself off the bed, jamming his hand into his pants to adjust his cock comfortably. He grasps his uncle’s sword from the wall and sways over to the door, jerking it open. You drag yourself out of the way to avoid getting smacked.

The first thing he says, of course, is said with a sigh.

“Queen Freydis.”

Checkmate.

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