#if i end up not getting drunk alone on my bathroom floor tonight im counting today as Not Drinking because 2 sips of cocktail is like

[isdalinarhot]

thinking about that post thats like you are not hating the character you are hating Your Dad From Real Life as i have an Uncomfortable Interaction irl that makes me go Damn I Should Draw This As Gavilar And Dalinar

[onceuponadetectivedemigod]

hmm well i don’t wanna bother you but maybe you could do two endings to the fic? one very angsty and one smutty (like threesome). The fic could start angsty too

Drunken Mistake

Smutty ending

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader, Tigerlily Taylor x Reader, Ben Hardy x Tigerlily Taylor x Reader.

Warnings: Smut, cheating, serious LANGUAGE, alcohol,

An: HOLY SHIT I HAVE SINNED. im probably going to hell for this one. This is probably the best smut I’ve written so far and it is steamy. sorry this took so long but here it is. Life just keeps throwing shit my way every time I’m like “yeah” so you know. ALSO I DONT CONDONE CHEATING. And WOW THIS IS LIKE my dream fantasy but I still don’t think cheating is the way to go about that. (Also sidenote im inexperience so some of this may not be accurate therefore I’m sorry)

Ben walked in the door. You were sitting on the couch ready to confess your drunken mistake from the night before. He set down his gym bag and came over and kissed your cheek.

“Hey babe. I’m gonna get in the shower. Then you can tell me all about girls night.” He smiled. God his smile made you melt. Which made you feel more guilty.

“Ben we need to talk. Now.”

“What’s wrong?” His face grew concerned. He looked at you and sat down on the couch. Tears started streaming down your face.

“Ben...”

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He sounded more adamant.

“Me and Tigerlily went out last night and got shitfaced right?”

“Yeah so? You didn’t bring home another guy did you?” He half joked but you could tell he was slightly serious based on his breathing. His breathing became shaky, he isn’t quite sure what will happen next.

“No. But I told you last night I was gonna stay at her place cause I didn’t want to drive or risk taking an Uber alone. Well when we got back to her place we decided to watch Netflix. But her only tv is in her room so we cuddled up on her bed. And next thing I knew... Ben, I fucked her. I fucked Tigerlily. I cheated. I feel so horrible. God. I don’t even know what happened. I am so sorry Ben. I understand if you don’t trust me anymore or if you want me gone-“

“Who said anything about you leaving?” Ben looked at you. You were balling your eyes out and you couldn’t read his expressions.

“Ben I cheated on you! Why wouldn’t you want me gone?” You said wiping your tears.

“Y/N... listen, yeah I’m hurt. But if I’m being quite honest with you I still trust you, I mean it was with your friend, someone I know, you had the decency to tell me first thing, it’s not like you picked up some random chick or dude from the club. It’s not someone you’ve been fucking behind my back. Also you were drunk. Honestly Y/N the thought of you and Tigerlily fucking kinda gives me a boner.” His voice was calm and collected the entire time he spoke. You gathered your thoughts and tried to grasp everything he had said. When you finally spoke again, the tension subsided.

“So if I were to invite her over right now..?” He laughed.

“Well right now you kinda look like shit. Maybe once you get yourself together?” He laughed.

“Fuck you.” You shouted and playfully hit his arm.

“But having two girls at once is like a fantasy of mine and I can’t even begin to tell you how horny that makes me feel right now.” His eyes darkened as they set on you. “But I bet I can show you a helluva better time than she can.”

“Oh really? Prove it.”

And he did.

You made arrangements for the three of you. You explained the situation to Tigerlily. Although she felt just as guilty as you did. But she said she’d be happy to oblige with ben’s fantasy. And you’d definitely be lying if you didn’t think about it every day until the next Friday.

“You two get started. I’m just gonna sit over here for a minute. Also remember: safeword is pineapple.” Ben said as he sat in the chair across from the bed, where you and Tigerlily both sat in nice new lingerie.

“Well maybe you could tell us what to do? It’s your fantasy and I don’t remember much of what happened last time?” Tigerlily spoke up.

“You know if you’re going to sass me all night it might just get you in trouble.” He replied.

“Oh I count on it. But still.” She said.

“Why don’t you try making out? Foreplay it.” He recommended.

“Who you want on top?” She asked.

“I don’t give a fuck. Just do something!”

“Ben baby. It’s alright don’t get pissed off, we just want to do this in a way that will please you.” You piped in. But instead of letting him answer you immediately attacked Tigerlily’s face with your own. You climbed on top of her and started viscously making out. Her hands found your hips. She let her hands slide down to your ass and gave your bum a little squeeze.

You moved you lips from her mouth to her neck and collar bone. She moaned and moved her head back to give you more access. Her hands started to wander and feel around your body. You started sucking hickeys on her neck as one of your hands found her boobs and your legs became entangled.

You heard Ben mutter a low “fuck.” And you were almost sure he had started working his cock.

You started moving your lips farther down her body and found her other boob. And decided to move your hand down, rubbing her leg and low abdomen. Her back arched toward your mouth and her hand found its way into your hair. You snapped off her bra with your other hand and helped her out of it, throwing it on the floor next to Ben. She moved to do the same to yours.

Now you were absolutely sure that he was working his cock as you could here his moans becoming more audible.

You started kissing lower and lower until you got to her underwear that had become visibly wet, but so had yours. You moved her panties down her legs as you quickly licked a stripe up her wet core. Her hands had found their way back into your hair.

Suddenly Ben shouted for you to stop.

“Y/N hop off.” You did as you were told.

“Tigerlily go over to the edge of the bed.” He pointed standing up. She let her legs fall off the bed granting you easier access. She sat up. He was already naked from jerking off before. He walked over to her and hovered over her. He stroked her cheek. “Suck my dick.” Was the order he gave her. And you knew that he was about to face fuck the shit out of her for talking back to him earlier. Yet you still felt a slight tinge of jealousy. She leaned back on her hands as his fists found clumps of her hair. She put her mouth around his cock and started working on it, but he immediately took charge. He looked at you.

“Finish what you started.”

“Yes sir.” This made him groan. He loved it when you called him sir. And frankly you loved the way it affected him.

You went to the edge of the bed and started eating her out. Making sure to completely encompass her clit. Ben started fucking her face faster and faster. She was moaning so much at the sensation of both of you. Suddenly you could tell she was reaching her high as well as him. You were jealous of not getting any friction as they were. When she finally came in your mouth, you did your best to clean up every bit of it. Ben would like that.

When Ben finally came in her mouth, she fell back on the bed and he rolled over next to her.

They were both breathing incredibly hard and despite fear of punishment you really just wanted to cum. You straddled ben’s thigh and started riding.

“Ben baby. I’ve been good. Can you please make me come?”

“Fuck baby. Take off your underwear.” You stood up and did as you were told. “I will take care of you. As for you...” he looked over at Tigerlily. Go sit in the chair and finger yourself. She did as was told. Every now and then you would top Ben, but tonight was all for him and his dominance was definitely showing. He laid his head and back against the head board. “Come ride me.”

You went over to him and sunk onto his cock. And started to ride. His hands found your ass and his lips found your tits. You started chasing your own high and it would have been long before you’d come.

“You see this Tigerlily, don’t ever fuck her without my permission again. This cunt is mine. I want you to know I will always fuck her better than you.” His words rang through your ears and turned you on more.

“C’mon baby. Come on my cock.” He whispered in your ear, pulling you closer to him to hit just a little deeper and reach your g spot. He guided your hips for you.

Suddenly you were seeing stars but he helped you ride out your high as come started spilling out of you onto him.

“Good girl. You did great baby.” He said encouragingly. “Tigerlily you can stop. Go take a shower. We set up the guest bedroom for you.”

She gave an awkward goodnight as she left the room. You had finally come down from your high as you rolled over next to Ben. He got up and went to the bathroom to bring you a wet rag to clean you up with. Once you two had actually gotten in bed, he leaned over and kissed you on the forehead as you entangled in each other’s arms.

“That was a lot of fun.” He spoke up. “But please don’t cheat on me again.”

“Never. But I’m not opposed to that ever again.”

Ben taglist: @sevenseasofrog

[thepencilnerd]

- 𝐈 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 -

➳ Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

➳ Summary: AU! After a one-night stand with Park Jinyoung, the infamous campus fuckboy, life goes on. You were only looking for a good time, so you didn’t need to worry about catching any feelings, but Jinyoung had other plans

➳ Genre: Fuckboy x Fuckgirl AU, light angst, implied smut

➳ Word Count: 4.1k

➳ Warnings: Mature situations, swearing, alcohol

♪ Single- The Neighbourhood

a/n: jinyoung feels hit me hard and im trash so i rushed this, forgive me

The night was still young as you entered the club with your group of friends. The clock read 11:53 p.m. as you all swarmed the bar like flies, immediately trying to kiss-up to the bartender for free drinks. Having mastered the art of flattery to the last detail, it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. Downing a shot of vodka and chasing it with strawberry soda, you exhaled as you felt the soothing burn of alcohol coat your throat. 

It was a few days since the semester had ended and you had already planned out your summer break down to the hour. The majority of it consisted of hibernating in your room for days on end until the time came to visit your parents back home, but before that, you had a week to waste drinking, partying, staying out all night, and maybe chatting up a few guys here and there—with no intentions of actually taking them home, of course. Being a tease was so much more fun than giving people what they wanted. 

“So what happened with you and Jinyoung?” one of your friends shouted through the loud music that blared through the speakers. 

“Oh yeah,” another squealed. “Was he as good as everyone says he is?” 

You scoffed. “As if. He was so distracted by these—” you gestured to your chest. “He couldn’t even get his own pants off.” 

“Bullshit!” they all whined. “Be honest—was he good?” 

Taking another sip from your glass and swishing the liquor in your mouth, you shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.” As you winked, your friends all groaned in frustration at your routine habit of never talking about your hookups. It wasn’t your place to say something a bit too honest (as per your other habit of being brutally truthful) and then have your loudmouth buddies spread a rumor like a wildfire. You were never fond of rumors or sugarcoating things, so you decided that it would be best to keep your personal life personal, especially from your gossip-mongering friends.  

“Enough talk about boys,” you silenced, standing up and smoothing out the edges of your thigh-length dress. “Feel free to actually have fun instead of blabbing away like high-schoolers.”

Making your way to the center of the floor, the rest of them followed your tail, waving goodbye to the bartender and signaling him to leave his number under their drinks. When the song changed to one that you all knew, the four of you couldn’t help but sing along and sway your hips to the upbeat tempo. 

About five or six songs in and seven or eight boys getting trying to cop a feel before getting ‘accidentally’ getting kneed in the crotch, you felt sweat begin to bead at your hairline, indicating that it was time for you to take a trip to the bathroom and dry off. Holding your hand up to your drunk energetic friends, they ushered you off and continued flopping around like robotic fish. Stepping between the crowds of people and making sure that you didn’t trip over your own heels, you finally reached the bathroom. Considering the location of the place and time of day, you were surprised at its immaculately spotless state. 

Patting your forehead dry with a few paper towels and gargling with some water, you pat the edges of your lips with the back of your hand, thankful that you opted for lip stain rather than lipstick tonight. Making sure not to smudge your light eye makeup, you double-checked to make sure that the rest of your makeup was intact. Waterproof mascara could only endure so much before it started to crumble. 

Examining your face, you pulled out your small makeup pouch and applied another layer of the deep red stain, patting it in with your ring finger and being cautious not to draw outside of your lip line. After puckering your lips and marveling at the finished product, your mind began to wander as your finger trailed your chin and dipped down to your jaw. 

“Do you like it when I kiss you here?” he asked, whispering to the point of near silence as he pressed a kiss just beneath your jawline. 

“Stop teasing,” you sighed, grasping him by the roots of his hair and tightening your grip gently, causing him to hiss in pleasure. 

“Again,” he pleaded as he moaned. Each time you tugged at his hair, you were rewarded with his plush lips that began trailing down to the top of your breast.

You purposefully gripped his hair tighter this time, using your dominant position to your advantage to guide his head up so that he was now eye to eye with you. Lowering his head so that you could whisper his ear, you were centimeters from each other as you were able to see the goosebumps that formed across his skin when you spoke. 

“Stop. Fucking. Teasing,” you snarled while licking your lips. 

“Y/N?” your friend called from the door. Snapping you out of your daze, you hurriedly gathered your stuff and answered. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” 

“You were taking forever,” she mumbled. “Uh—it’s him...”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion at her uncomfortable state, wondering if she had been confronted by someone who she wasn’t interested in. “Is someone bothering you?” 

She quickly held her hands up in defense and shook her head rapidly. “No, no, it’s just—Jinyoung. Jinyoung’s here and he wants to see you.” When she finally spit the words out, you let out a noise of disdain. 

For the past three weeks since your hookup with the campus fuckboy, Jinyoung hadn’t stopped texting you and asking to hang out. Hourly text messages that turned into weekly rejected phonecalls had blurred into him being so desperate to the point of sending his own friends to go beg you to meet up with him. What the hell did he want this time?

“He’ll find someone else to bother soon enough, just ignore him,” you assured, brushing it off as just another one of his desperate attempts to hook up with you. 

“But he said he really wants to see you. Like—he has to see you,” she repeated, looking down at the floor in guilt. 

“Is he going to die if I don’t see him?” you irked. She was starting to get on your nerves now. “Give me one good reason why I have to go to him at his beck and call?” 

“Because he brought the rest of his friends and we’re leaving with them for the night?” she forced out an awkward chuckle. 

“You’re joking, right?” you gaped. Your friends had just flaked on you to hang spend the night with the school’s preppy princes. No big deal. “You fucking traitors...”

“Come on, Y/N,” she pleaded. “Just do what you always do and tease him until he gets frustrated and runs off. You’re good at that. Please?”

“Fuck off,” you sighed, pressing your finger to your temple and rubbing the pulsating vein. “Just this once, you unbelievable brat.” 

Her face beamed with joy as she gave you a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to join the others. You hunched over the mirror and breathed calmly as you tried to compose yourself. 

So I’m good at teasing, am I? you thought to yourself. I’ll show him a fucking tease if he’s ever seen one. 

Your hands drifted to unbutton his blouse while he began stroking your bare thighs. Teeth clashing against teeth and lips demanding for more contact with pure desire, you peeled back his blouse and traced your fingers over his defined but svelte muscles and made him shudder.

“If I get you off like this with just my fingertips, imagine what my hands could do to you?” you coyed innocently. 

He let out a scoff before guiding his fingers under his chin and silencing you with another kiss, lightly tugging against your lower lip with his teeth and smirking. “I could imagine a few things that pretty mouth of yours would be able to do too...” 

Shaking the past out of your head, you lightly slapped your cheeks a few times and told yourself to pull it together. Stomping out of the restroom, you leaned onto the arched doorway and looked over to the table your friends were previously stationed at, only to be greeted by a single all-too-recognizable figure. With his arms spread out over the sofa, Park Jinyoung sat comfortably alone on the circular cushion which normally would’ve hosted six people. 

Known as the school’s academic and aesthetic extraordinaire, this boy had built a reputation for himself as the brains and the looks of the popular group. He and six of his closest friends walked around campus like business moguls as girls and guys alike dropped like flies at their feet. 

Even though he also had a reputation for being well-liked and favored, fuckboy Jinyoung was all the buzz. Girls who had sworn they wouldn’t fall for his flirty pick-up lines and false compliments were left drowning in their own tears the morning after. However, unlike the previous girls who had hooked up with him, you knew what you were getting into when you went to his party that night. 

“So you’re Y/N?” an attractive man greeted as he came up to you.

Lowering your solo cup and studying his facial features, the corner of your lips turned upright into a smug grin. “Who’s asking?” 

“Jinyoung,” he answered with a tone of arrogance in his voice. “Park Jinyoung.”

Shaking his extended hand, you were taken aback when he brought his lips to the top of your hand and pressed a light kiss to it, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. 

You held back a chuckle. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to make a move, junior?” At this comment, you could see his pupils dilate even in the dim lighting. Almost as soon as you caught the change in his expression, it quickly disappeared and was replaced by a cocky smirk and a flash of a perfectly white smile. 

“Meet me upstairs in ten minutes,” you murmured in his ear. It was your turn to be in control tonight. 

Turning away, Jinyoung immediately grasped you by your wrist and pulled you into his chest, inclining back slightly so that you were angled against his body and could feel his excitement pressed on your thigh. “Make that two.”

This party might have actually been worth coming to. 

Your mind drifted off as you were captivated by his features. Whether it was his angular yet soft jawline, his acute eyes, or just the way he pulled off a loosely buttoned dress shirt, you bit down on your lip in anticipation. 

The moment his eyes met yours, the music skipped and changed to another favorite of yours. His mouth dropped open slightly as he contemplated how to approach you. Deciding to take the lead once again, you beckoned him to follow you to the dance floor where you would do what you do best; be in control. 

Jinyoung was quick on your tail as you began moving your body with the music. All those years of dance lessons had finally paid off. A pair of familiar hands came from behind you and found their way to your waist; one wrapped around your body and the other trailed up to your throat. Moving your hair out of the way, you felt his warm breath tickle the crook of your neck as he began to blow a trail of warm air down to your collarbone. 

Two could play at this game, you baited. Pressing yourself into him harder along with the music, you felt a grunt come from his chest as he wrapped his arm around you even tighter. When he began placing open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, you felt heat spread across your cheeks. 

Shifting your position to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and leaned into him so that your mouth was millimeters away from his. Feeling him exhale into your lips, you bit your bottom lip gently before weaving your hands into his hair ever so slightly, giving you the ability to make him do as you pleased. You knew he was the type who had a hair kink the second you laid eyes on him. 

He made his iconic smirking face before gently taking your hands into his and pulling them away from his head. Resting your left hand on his shoulder, he brought your right hand to his lips and stuck out his tongue, running it along the pad of your ring finger that you had used applied your lip stain earlier. 

“You still use that pomegranate flavored lip balm?” he asked, the question coming out more in the form of a statement rather than an actual question. 

“It’s a stain—a lip stain,” you stuttered. 

What the fuck was that? your conscience screamed. Pull it together. 

“So it’s safe to assume that,” he paused, running his thumb over your bottom lip, which was probably bleeding from how much you had gnawed on it earlier. “—this won’t come off no matter how hard I kiss you?” 

“You want to test that out?” you grinned and raised your eyebrow, provoking him to do his worst. 

“Y/N,” he sighed, your name rolling off of his tongue so effortlessly as if it were second nature. “Why have you been avoiding me?” 

“Why have you been trying so hard to see me?” you replied dryly. 

He laughed at your response. “Is it such a crime for me to be so intrigued by someone?”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you continued to move to the mellow rhythm of the bass. “Was I that mind-blowingly amazing in bed that you wanted to come back for more?”

Jinyoung brought his head to my level and pressed a quick kiss to my pulse point before answering. “I needed to come back for more, princess.”

A shiver ran through your spine at the unfamiliar title he had given you at your first encounter. You weren’t really one for pet or nicknames, but for some reason, hearing it come from his lips was like liquid ambrosia; you could get drunk off of it. 

“And how do you know I want more?” you pouted, wanting to push him to his limits and see how far he’d be willing to go before exploding. 

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think about that night,” he said firmly. With a gaze that pierced through yours and arms encasing you in a death grip, you felt shy for the first time in years. 

“I don’t-” you started but were interrupted by Jinyoung’s hands cupping your backside that fit like a perfectly snapped puzzle piece. 

“Tell me you don’t think about how well I marked you here,” he reminded. Licking a stripe down your neck before clamping down on it lightly with his teeth, you closed your eyes and savored the sensation. He repeated the process a few more times until you halted him by winding your hands in his hair.

“I don’t,” you answered, faking confidence and knowing damn well that he could see through your facade from a mile away. He knew what game you were playing and the ball was now in his court. 

Jinyoung clutched you securely into his chest, not knowing if it was even remotely possible or not, as the two of you were virtually joined at the waist. You could feel his heart pump rapidly under the material of his thin blouse as his hands then resumed tracing the back of your dress where the zipper was; likewise, the material of your outfit choice was also on the thinner side. The realization dawned upon you when you felt his fingertips fondle with the zipper line and barely skim the edges where the metal met your skin. 

“What about when I unzipped this last time?” he recalled, stare boring into yours with the same hunger as the last time you saw him. “You got frustrated and threatened to leave so I practically ripped it right off of you...” 

Hands guiding your hips to move in unison with his to the beat, you felt his growing urgency show as he was pushed over the edge and cupped your face, pulling you into a scorching kiss. His lips were just as soft—if not softer—than you had remembered, and you felt him kiss harder when you part your lips in a gasp. 

Your hands wandered and knotted your fists into his shirt for leverage to tug him closer to you, the distance between the two of you now nonexistent. Your heart was pounding in your chest so loud, you felt your pulse ring in your ears. All the nerves in your brain began rapid firing to your senses; the taste of his lips against yours, the scent of that mouth-watering cologne he used, the feel of his body giving in and simultaneously fighting for control, and the raw sight of him crumbling beneath your fingertips. 

“You sure you’ll be able to handle me, princess?” he inquired with a vain expression while he started unbuttoning his shirt. 

“I should be asking you that,” you retorted. Pulling down your hair, his mouth watered as he gulped, admiring the volume of your tresses. Wagging your finger back and forth, you tsked. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already drooling.” 

Without another word, he pinned you underneath him and devoured you in a greedy kiss.

Pulling away for air, Jinyoung looked up at you and chuckled deeply, breathless from the kiss that had nearly consumed the two of you. “Let’s go back to my place,” he managed to say. 

With a crooked smile, your body commanded him to follow you as you walked back to the bar. Waving to the bartender for another glass of whiskey, Jinyoung quickly followed your tail and found a seat next to you. 

“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” he asked gravely, wearing a frown as his brows knit together into an expression of genuine confusion and hurt. 

You coughed as the drink seared your throat, accidentally taking in a larger gulp than you normally would have because of his outlandish question. “Is it really not that obvious?” 

His expression answered your question for you. 

“Jinyoung,” you started calmly. “The point of one-night stands is that they’re a one-time thing. You’re used to those, aren’t you? I wanted a good time and you offered one. We used each other once and now we’re done. What part don’t you get?” Your words were laced with venom as you tried to prevent him from getting involved any further. 

Jinyoung’s jaw tensed as he jutted out his chin slightly and nibbled on the inside of his cheek. “What if I don’t want it to be a one-time thing?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows at his absurd request, you let out a nasal scoff. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean I want to have one-night stands with you all the time. Only you.” Whether it was because of the alcohol of because he was telling the truth, his eyes never drifted away from your for even a split second. 

“Are you asking me out or for me to be your fuckbuddy?” you gawked, appalled at his bizarre and unusual attitude.  

He ran his hand down the back of his neck awkwardly as he tried to preserve his ‘cool guy’ image. “The former. I mean if you don’t that’s fine. We can just hook up again.” 

You were full-on giggling now. Wiping the tears from the edges of your eyes and gripping your aching stomach, you calmed yourself and tried to form words. “What makes you think that I even want to hook up again, let alone date you?” 

“Because I saw the way you stared at me during passing periods before we even hooked up. Before we even knew each other-” he pointed out bluntly. Outlining your lips which were damp from your drink, he smoothed his finger over the corner of your mouth. “I always caught you staring at me and biting your lip or tracing that perfectly shaped cupid’s bow of yours.” 

Sipping on your chaser nervously, he caught your chin with his fingertips and brought you into a light kiss, making your heart jump again. 

“You’re nice but still have a smart mouth, intelligent but still know how to have fun, pretty goddamn attractive,” he explained in detail then brought his lips close to yours again, but only to feel his breath fan against yours. “-and you taste so fucking good...” 

“I never took you as the dating type,” you muttered under your breath as you swirled your drink. 

“I never took you as the one-night stand type of girl either. Crazy how first impressions can be so misleading, right?” he remarked half-sarcastically while resting his cheek on his propped elbow. 

You shook your head again. “So why do you want to date me?” 

His eyebrow quirked up, not understanding the question he thought he had just answered. “Because I like you?” he replied begrudgingly, hating how he had to be the submissive one whenever he was with you. 

“But you don’t exactly seem like the committed’ type, per se,” you shrugged. 

“You don’t either, so it looks like we’re a perfect match.” Taking your drink from you and handing it to the bartender, he shot him a glare when you tried to ask for another drink, causing him to hold his hands up in defense and help the other customers. 

“What the fuck?” you scoffed in disbelief, surprised and annoyed at his strange attitude tonight. 

“I don’t want you around other guys. The thought of anyone else other than me touching you or even looking at you makes my blood boil. I want to be there for you when you’re sad and be the one who makes you happy. I want to wake up and send you those stupid cheesy good morning texts and fall asleep while video calling you until 3 a.m.,” he rambled with no signs of stopping any time soon. 

“I—” you tried to speak but couldn’t form words. In his case which he felt too much all at once, you didn’t know what to feel at all. Sure you had sparked an interest in him the first day of school two years ago, but that was before you were warned left and right about his playboy games. It took you a good six months before you got over your already-blooming crush on him, but you hadn’t realized that the feelings still lingered. 

“I want to be the shoulder you cry on, not some random guy who doesn’t know jackshit about you. It scares the shit out of me because I’ve never felt anything like this before, especially after a one-night stand. For anyone. Ever,” he broke his sentences shakily.

“How am I supposed to believe that you’ve changed?” you asked thoughtfully, skimming over the prospect of being in a real relationship after a few years. This was a side of him you weren’t sure anyone had ever seen before. 

He looked up from his hands and spoke quietly. “Because I want to believe you have too. And if you tell me to fuck off and leave you alone and that you really don’t want this, I’ll go.”  

“We don’t know each other that well, if at all,” you defended as you tried to support your earlier statement. You found him attractive both physically and personality-wise, but you had trained yourself to be immune to the feeling of companionship and were at a stalemate. Jinyoung was the first boy to actually confess—practically beg you—to stay with them after a fling. 

“I’d like to get to know you better as a person, Y/N. Maybe on a less intimate but more personal level,” he grinned mischievously at his own comment before smiling genuinely, eyes glinting and teeth beaming even in the ambient lighting. 

“We’re going to argue. Especially knowing how stubborn the two of us like to be,” you rebutted once more, trying to push him away as best you could. 

He nodded. “I know. I don’t mind.” 

“And we’ll disagree on things,” you added, making him nod his head in agreeance again. 

“I’m fine with that,” he grinned. 

“You really think you can handle me?” you gawked as your jaw nearly unhinged at his tenacity. 

“I should be asking you that,” the smart ass replied smugly, using your own words against you.

“I’ll piss you off like a bitch.”

“And I’ll deal with it,” he answered matter-of-factly. 

“You’ll get mad.” 

“And so will you.” 

No wonder he liked your smart mouth; he had the perfect attitude to match. Scoffing at his boldness, you couldn’t help but grin. “What if I break your heart?” 

"It would be an honor to have my first heartbreak with you,” he answered warmly without an ounce of hesitation. 

“You really want to do this?” you asked, still questioning if he was truly being 100% honest or whether it was just another one of his mind games. 

“Yes.” His serious expression and unchanged gaze indicated that he was indeed telling you the truth, and you couldn’t tell what scared you more; the way he spoke without a single lie laced in his words or the way his gaze captivated you longingly. 

“Okay,” the word slipping out of your mouth absentmindedly, revealing your deepest subconscious desires. You never thought a single word would intimidate you so much. 

“But first,” he chuckled as he leaned into you. “I’d rather do this—” 

Capturing your liquor-laced lips, your mind floated off into pure bliss. Your hands pressed onto his chest to anchor you and prevent you from tearing each other’s clothes off in the middle of a bar. Warmth spread across your chest as you felt him smile heartily into the kiss. 

“Are you going to be mine, princess?” his beamed, arms still wound securely around your body. 

“If you’ll let me be yours...” you replied in a whisper, shuddering at your new favorite pet name as your hands tangled into his hair and brushed it affectionately. 

Where would we go from here? 

[lokishornns]

Champagne and Heights

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masterlist

mcu masterlist

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type: fluff, comedy

rating: pg13

summary: You hated Loki. Not really, but you did. But like, not really.

word count: 3,151

warnings: a few curse words

request: anonymous – “A request for a Loki x Reader. Where she is like just bearly 5 feet tall?”

notes: im just now getting around to this, sorry! but this is a cute little fluff oneshot that just makes my heart thump, so i hope you enjoy

—

Water runs off of your skin, dripping to the floor and leaving hazardous puddles as your bare feet slap furiously against the compound’s floors. The facial expression you wore as you stomp through the hallways was petrifying, a clear warning sign to anyone in the compound that you were mad as hell and not to be messed with. You turn corners, ignoring the agents that jump away from you in fear as the feeling of tension in the air intensifies.

You were going to kill that alien prince son of a bitch.

You looked absolutely horrible. Your hair was in tight columns from coming out of the shower, water still pouring from the strands; your face was dripping wet makeup, turning you more into a raccoon than anything else. A towel was wrapped tightly around your body and you were visibly shaking, but most couldn’t differentiate if it was because of the temperature or the amount of rage being pent up inside of your small figure. It was probably the latter.

“Shit, they’re at it again,” Bucky yelled, scrambling for his phone to text a warning to the group chat. He types quickly, his fingers a frenzied mess as he sends the text. Not soon after, his phone rings and a picture of a redhead making a goofy face at the camera pops up on the screen. “Oh, thank god, Natasha.”

“What happened?” her voice sounded staticky through the phone speaker as he peers cautiously out the doorway as if anything could attack him at the moment.

“I’m not sure, but I just saw agents running from the hallways and she storms past, dripping wet,” he babbles quickly, unable to keep the word vomit in her mouth.

“Could you see what he did?” Natasha’s voice now sounding strained and a loud gunshot sounds through the phone. Bucky, unphased by the regular sounds of calling Natasha, continues.

“Doll, she was walking so fast that I’m not even sure Steve would be able to beat her with his motorcycle,” he responds, biting his lip nervously.

“When are they-” a grunt sounded from the other end of the line, “going to realize?”

This was a regular occurrence, but still dangerous, nonetheless. A couple months ago, the bickering had started out of nowhere. You two were getting along just fine, attending your own business in the kitchen, when the next thing you know, the team bursts into the room, food painting the cabinets that surround you and occasional broken glass mixed in with the mess. When attempting to confront you two, Loki just shrugged and you pointed out that the compound needed a remodel anyways, saying you did everyone a favor.

However, now, Loki had really done it. You turned a corner sharply, your eyes narrowing on the targeted location. You don’t even knock, throwing the door wide open, your small body becoming a barrel of sorts. You look around the room, making sure to fling some water on his bed, knowing wet sheets is one of his biggest pet peeves. The sound of water running catches your attention and you whip your face to the bathroom, hurriedly opening the door, and glancing around, rage swimming around in your eyes.

You realize he’s in the shower, however, nothing stops you as you fling back the shower curtain, Loki jumping and yelping loudly, stumbling for a quick moment before regaining his footing. Loki’s eyes are wide as his hands go to cover his parts, panic evident in his figure. You would regularly laugh at this instance, but you only shook with rage as you stared at the god. When recognition seeped into his expression and as he glanced down your body, his signature smirk filled his features.

“Getting ready for your date, huh?” he asks, quirking an eyebrows up and you huff, a quick breath being exhaled from you. He no longer bothers to cover his body as he noticed this was another fight brewing between the two of you.

“Loki, undo it,” you say firmly, your eye twitching.

Loki steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel. He turns back to you, peering down at your figure, making sure that you knew how much of a height advantage he had over you. He was past six feet tall and you had only barely made it to five feet, really a pathetic gain on his figure.

“And why should I do that?” he wraps the towel around his waist before turning back to the mirror, looking his figure up and down, seemingly satisfied. You had to admit, Loki was stunning. His body was one thing, but his face was the real masterpiece. While he was fit and relatively big, he was slim compared to his brother (whom you were positive had drunk some type of Asgardian protein shake). His face was gorgeous with high cheek bones accompanying his bright, icy eyes. His skin was pale, contrasting deeply with his dark hair. You shook your head; Loki could not be a distraction now. He was your enemy.

“Loki, I can’t go to the gala looking like this,” you wave down to your body which somehow had taken on a bright orange tint, causing you to look like a glistening Cheeto. Loki stifled a laugh as you groaned, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes to rub furiously, only smearing your makeup more.

“Okay Princess, I’ll reverse it on one condition,” he bends down while speaking, hands on his knees while taunting your height, causing your ears to go red in frustration and embarrassment.

“Don’t call me that,” your nostrils flared dangerously and Loki’s smirk almost faltered. Almost.

“Do you want to keep your Presidential tan?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow high and you huffed, rolling your eyes. “You have to grab this,” he smiles, lifting his hand high above his head, a random bottle of hair product in his hand. You turn your brows down quickly, directing your frustration to the arrogant god as he taunts you with the bottle. You grumble, hating Loki’s guts currently.

“No,” you grumble out reluctantly, crossing your arms in front of your chest, biting the inside of your cheek, annoyed that you had given him the small victory. “Loki, please. I just-” you shut your mouth quickly, knowing that you would word vomit the second you get the chance. Loki’s eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.

“You just what?” he asked, leaning his face closer, causing your eyes to darken.

“It’s nothing, don’t bother,” you step back, unsure about the close proximity. His eyes search yours for a moment, seemingly in thought.

“I’ll reverse it if you tell me,” he decided, his voice softer than normal. You eye him curiously, temporarily taken aback by his change in tone, but you just ignore it knowing it’s probably another trick. You groan, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, taking a deep breath before starting.

“This date wasn’t just like a date. I don’t care for the guy too much, truth be told. But like,” you stop for a moment, your eyes shifting downwards under his gaze, “it made me feel normal.” You almost whisper out the last part like it was some horrible secret that needed to be protected at any cost.

Loki doesn’t say much, and as each second ticked by, the more and more uneasy you became. Loki finally seemed to decide on something as he glanced his eyes over to his closet and back to you. He stood up straight, no longer leaning over you.

“How does this pathetic excuse for a man make your evening normal?” he asked, more curious than anything else. You glance at the god, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m supposed to be angry with you. I still look like a fucking highlighter,” you say, stepping back, one hand absentmindedly going to tighten the towel around your body.

“Don’t ignore my question,” Loki almost threatens, his stare intense enough to bore holes into you.

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Just because I get to go around people who won’t know or care who I am. And even if they do, I get to dress up and look pretty for once in my life. I bought a new dress and makeup and-” you close your mouth, knowing the word vomit had said too much.

“You won’t be going with this man,” his voice cadenced to show the end of a conversation. Your eyes widen and your face flushes once again with anger. Loki turns his back, instead going to the sink of the bathroom and inspecting a bottle of some sort of hair product.

“What do you mean I won’t be going with him? Matt’s super nice. You aren’t the boss of me,” you spit, stepping in front of him, your lower back pressing against the counter. Loki looks down at the proximity between the two of you, his eyes dancing back up to your own.

“I would suggest you prepare for tonight. You do have a gala to go to, darling,” he drawls out the nickname, firmly pushing you aside, your feet stumbling slightly. Your head whips back to look at his figure, pissed off at his blatant arrogance. You catch a sight of your complexion in the mirror, noticing its normal hue. You almost sigh in relief until you remember you’re next to Loki, your mood dampened.

“Whatever, you’re a pussy.”

“Bitch.”

“Cunt,” you call behind your shoulder as you walk out.

“Whore.”

“Twat.”

You double check yourself in the mirror, almost crying in relief. You had been watching countless makeup videos on youtube, never seeming to be able to get anything right. You had finally given up, calling Natasha into your room once spotting her in the hallway. She had been surprised at your request, but excitedly agreed, immediately getting to work on your face. You looked hot.

You were now alone in your room after Natasha had to report to Fury with the mission details. You walked over to the dress that laid on your bed, quickly slipping it on. You slip on your heels, deciding it was easier to do before putting on your dress rather than trying to bend over in the fabrics. You grab the zipper, excited to dress up for once. The zipper only went around halfway up the metal teeth before stopping. Your brows drew together, concentrated on the hindrance. You tugged again to no avail. Pathetic panic begins to seep in and you glance at your outfit in the mirror. You pull the zipper again, only to have it jerk the back of your dress. Before you can practically rip your dress off, your phone rings loudly. You huff, waddling over to your phone.

“Hello?” you answer without checking the caller id.

“Hey,” Matt’s voice rang out through the speaker and your face drooped at the thought of your dress getting in the way of the night.

“Hey, Matt, what’s up?” you tug on the zipper once more, attempting to make your voice not sound very strained.

“I have bad and good news. Bad news: I’m going to have to cancel for tonight,” he says and your face falls, immediately embarrassed and humiliated. You bite the inside of your cheek, taking in the silence carefully. “Good news: I found a replacement date,” he tries to say in a reassuring voice, but you cock your head at this. You only find slight comfort in this, as you could be going with a  complete stranger.

“Who’s the date?” you ask, glancing at your dress in the mirror, still contemplating on how to solve your zipper issue.

“He’s a friend of mine named Loki Odinson. He’s handsome and a lady-killer; I’m sure y’all will hit it off,” before he can finish, you hang up, feeling your face flood with red as anger seeps into your pores. Your eyes are squinted as you throw open the door to your room, stomping out of your room, your heels clicking violently on the floor.

Natasha shovels a mouthful of ice cream into her mouth, sighing as she sits at the counter of the kitchen. She pauses, hearing a clacking sound that seems to be growing closer and closer. She strains her ears in order to make out the sound, only registering it right in time before you fly past, your loose dress flying behind your small figure. She stares at you, her spoon hanging in her mouth, before she scrambles to her phone, fingers flying to shoot a warning text to the group.

Your fist pounds loudly on the door once finding it locked. You don’t stop your banging until the door flies open, revealing an empty room. You hear shuffling in the bathroom and you stalk over to the god, eyes piercing into his back, despising the tuxedo that now adorns his body.

“Darling, back so soon?” he teases, turning his head towards you briefly before returning to groom himself. You freeze, noticing how stunning he looks before cursing yourself for being such an idiot.

“What the fuck did you do to Matt?” you ask, crossing your arms over your dress.

“I reminded him of his priorities, like seeing his sick mother,” he responds smoothly, leaving your mouth open.

“Do you enjoy torturing me?”

“I’m far from a form of torture, now, turn around,” he instructs, turning his body to face me fully. You scrunch your nose in confusion.

“What-” before you can clarify his thoughts, Loki cuts you off.

“Turn around,” he says again, his eyes staring you down as if daring you to test his will. If it weren’t for your height, you’d be much more resistant against his demands, however, a slight change of his posture could bend you to his will. You roll your eyes and huff before reluctantly turning around. “For being such a feisty girl, you sure are quite obedient,” he remarks, his fingers traveling to your backside. You’re surprised at his cool touch, but you don’t move away when his fingers gently pull up the zipper past the previous place of issues for your dress. You unfold your arms, glancing at the trickster with uncertainty.

“We need to get you a girlfriend,” you start. “She’ll knock down your ego a bit. And your ass. Oh, I’d love to see that. Loki being completely in love with a girl,” you snort, walking out of the bathroom swiftly, your previous anger miraculously diminished as you feel Loki’s eyes trail after you.

“Love, you’re so dumb that it’s painful to hear you speak,” he says, stepping out of his bathroom and through the threshold of his bedroom before offering his arm to you. You slip your hand through the hook of his elbow, grasping onto it tightly to make up for the height difference.

“Do you already have a girlfriend?” you question, looking up to his face, your eyes widening. You ignore the sharp pain in your chest, quickly shoving all emotions out of your mind.

“Now why would I when I have a perfectly good woman on my arm right now. It does not seem I am in need of replacement,” he says and you scoff, glancing down at yourself. He slows his pace, leaning down to lightly brush his lips over your ears, causing you to shiver. “You look ravishing. You should have told me you would look like this, there would be a lot more galas planned,” he whispered and you feel a rush of excitement through your body.

Loki groans for what seems to be the fifth time that night as your heels puncture his shoes. He grits his teeth. You only giggle, the effects of a surplus of champagne just now kicking in as your feet dance carelessly across the floor. Loki’s height towers over you that it already makes it so difficult to dance with him.

“How is it possible that you look so stunning, yet you are a horrible and incapable dancer,” he makes the snide remark, only prompting more giggles to bubble up from your stomach. If you weren’t so tipsy, you would notice the slight turn of his lips at the sound of your laughter.

“This champagne is like Stark’s liquor, it’s so powerful. What’s in it?” you ask Loki, your words probably coming out a lot more garbled than you think, your heels stumbling over something random. You lean back in his arms, forgetting the height difference between the two of you before you slip through his arms, landing on the floor in a thud. You laugh loudly and you can’t help but hear the soft chuckles that come from the god.

“Let’s get you home,” he whispers, mainly to himself, before lifting your frame off of the floor.

As Loki cradles your frame in his arms, there’s a group of four Avengers, sitting anxiously in the kitchen, waiting for disaster to strike. The slight sounds of shuffling causes their ears to perk up, making their heads dart to the hallway. They peer from behind the wall, jaws dropping at the sight before them. Loki carefully trying to cradle your body with his arms while trying to open your door is something they never expected. At first, their brains went into panic mode, silently shuffling to the room that Loki had now disappeared into, fearing the worst of the god. When their eyes caught sight of the god gently pulling your heels off and slipping you under the covers, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you liked it, they almost went into cardiac arrest with shock. The four watched Loki intently as he conjured a glass of water and a tablet to soothe a hangover. Loki turned to the door, freezing as he saw the figures standing there, all of their eyes trained on him. He quickly regained his composure before briskly striding past them, softly closing the door in the process, heading off into darkness.

A text rang out on all four of their phones, prompting them to reach into their pockets.

Shuri: u all owe me five bucks

Peter: don’t forget me

Tony quickly texted back, having dealt with the pair far too frequently.

Tony: Nobody is giving anybody money

Thor: How do I use venmo money? Why is it asking for banke information? I only have shiny metal disks on my wooden box.

Shuri: thor what the fuck

T’Challa: Language

Tony: T’Challa’s turning into Steve, confirmed evidence

Bucky: He’s far from Steve. Steve is packed in all areas. T’Challa’s got a pussy.

Steve: Oh, God bless America.

Peter: OH MY GOD MR BARNES

Shuri: HUBSDHBSVBSB I CHOKED

Thor: Someone call that mortal phone that is angry with us all the time!

Tony: Thor…do you mean 911?

Natasha: How long did you guys know about Loki?

Peter: lol since he saw her

Peter: i know because he looked like me when i first saw liz

Shuri: ^

[yoon-ing]

Thin Line (m)

Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

It doesn’t take a big step to cross over a fine line.

Crimson red tints your cheeks, embarrassment your shade of blush for the night as you sit on the floor with a group of friends (and a so-call friend who has just outed your crush to the entire group), playing a game of Truth and Dare that has your skin on fire at the hand of Park Jimin who decides it’s his duty as your best friend to announce the name of your crush, who also happens to be your roommate and also happens to be sitting directly beside you.

“You’re supposed to say your crush,” you snare through your teeth at the boy who sits across from you, his eyes glazed with intoxication and arched with the stupid smile that’s on his face. It’s Jimin’s turn, choosing Truth after having to lick the underside of Taehyung’s foot sprinkled with hot sauce in the last round. ‘Who’s your crush?’ was blurted out as the first instinct of any Truth or Dare player, having all eyes on him, until his words are directing everyone’s attention to you.

“I don’t have one!” he says defensively. “So, I said yours!” is his pathetic attempt at an excuse and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“That’s not how it works!” you respond with your jaw clenching, hands balling into fists.

“Oh, why so defensive, Y/N?” Jungkook teases, “I guess it’s true.”

“Shut up Jeon,” you shoot at him, glaring in his direction for a moment before returning your death stare to Jimin.

“Yoongi’s a cool guy! What’s so wrong about crushing on him!” Jimin is just making it worse at this point and all you wish is that your physical existence in time and space would evaporate into nothing more than particles in the atmosphere, sparing you from the embarrassment and teasing that pursues, your drunkards of friends having a little too much fun, and definitely too much to drink.

“Y/N and Yoongi sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g” is being chanted and you can’t believe your pinkened ears because you’ve defied all laws of physics and have literally just discovered time travel, being sent back to middle school where you’re surround by immature little pricks, making a big deal just because you like a boy.

“I’m going home,” you mumble, taking one last, long swig of tequila before pushing yourself off the floor and haphazardly making it to your feet, the alcohol hitting you hard once your feet are the only part of you planted on the floor after spending the better half of the night sat on your ass.

Yoongi is quick to stand, not a drop of alcohol in his system because of his car out front, and he steadies your swaying figure.

You try to pull away from him, waving him off as you (unsuccessfully) try to convince him you’ll be okay on your own, not needing this small interaction to be more ammunition for the group of idiots still sprawled out on the floor.

“I’m your ride home,” he says when you tell him to sit back down.

And the ‘Ohhh, Y/N and Yoongi are going home together’ is met with the finger as your only response before you turn on your heel and walk, or rather stumble, away.

The burning on your skin has definitely sobered you up enough to think somewhat clearly, although your body lags behind and physically you’re pretty disorientated, and the embarrassment is suffocating, especially now that you and Yoongi are alone.

He laughs it off when you profusely apologize for Jimin’s behaviour, insisting that he was too drunk to even know what was coming out of his mouth, and that his words hold no truth.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Yoongi says half way through the drive, probably unable to put up with the apologizes that spew from your mouth. A ruffle of your hair has your lips smacking shut, you feel like a child, especially after tonight’s events and you can feel your heart cracking into pieces as if the universe herself has taken a chisel to it, letting you know that you’re nothing more than a kid to Yoongi, someone he likes to tease and poke fun at, someone who won’t have his heart the way he does yours.

//

The patterned fleece blankets and poster cluttered walls tell you you’re in your room, tucked into your own bed, where you must have spent the night, but the throbbing headache that pounds your skull from the inside out doesn’t tell you how you got here. Your memory is in shatters with edges so sharp that the only thing you can feel is splitting pain in the place of your mind; you wish you can say last night is a blur, but it’s not even that, holding no place in your recollection of yesterday and it is as non-existent as your phone seems to be at the moment. Your arms flail beneath the sheets in search of the device and you’re like a butterfly fluttering about, trying to break out of your cocoon looking for freedom, except it’s your blanket that has you trapped and you’re not nearly as graceful as nature’s bursts of colour.

Hooking your chin over the edge of the mattress, sweet victory rings in your ears in the form of muffled buzzing, paired with the dim light of an LED screen coming from beneath the thin sweatshirt you must have discarded on the floor at some point during the night. Snatching up your phone, you’re met with a number of notifications, namely from Jimin and worry sweeps across your features as your thumb sweeps across the unlock button. There are over ten messages from him, some still coming in as you pull up your conversation with him, scrolling up to where you last responded and you hope that his words will give you some insight to last night’s events because you’re blind to what happened between dinner and right now.

Jimin Park that ass [12:47pm]

Y/N

hey

im so sorry

i didn’t mean to say anything last night

i was drunk and wasn’t thinking

when am i ever thinking??

god

i feel like such a jackass

i should’ve kept my mouth shut

it wasnt my secret to tell

im sorry, i hope i didn’t fuck everything up for you

please tell me what i can do to make it up to you

i’ll do anything i swear

Insight is the opposite of what you get because these texts just make you more confused. Why is Jimin apologizing? What did he do to be sorry for? You two have been friends for so long that there’s hardly anything you can do to offend each other, or so you think.

The next message rolls in and everything is clicking, your brain moving like clockwork as everything comes back into place and your memory is clearer than day on a sunny morning.

Jimin Park that ass [12:48pm]

if you want me to talk to Yoongi and tell him i was just kidding whne i said you have a crush on him ill do it, i’ll convince him its not true

It’s as if you hadn’t even drunk last night, your memory sharper than ever with the scene replaying in your mind, the reel rewinding and playing over and over again, taunting you in your embarrassment and dread.

Yoongi knows you like him. Yoongi knows you like him. Min fuckin’ Yoongi knows that you like him.

It’s the only thought that goes through your brain, unable to process anything else because oh my god Min Yoongi knows, he knows!

You decide you’ll deal with Jimin later, suppressing all violent urges to march over to his house and ring his neck like a rag, and instead you simply hold down the power button on your phone until the device shuts down. The phone is released from your hand, landing with a loud thud on the floor, unable to care at this point and you let your eyelids flutter shut, taking a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of the tension that is pinching every single one of your nerve endings. Breathe in, breathe out, you tell yourself, but your body tenses and the next thing you know, you’re burying your face in a pillow to muffle the scream that you’re belting out of your lungs; your arms and legs flail around like a fish out of water and you kick your blankets about in a fit of frustration and desperation. The screaming comes to an end and you’re sure the pillow didn’t do much to conceal the sound that reverberates throughout the apartment, but you don’t really care that anyone within the vicinity of the building probably heard you because it’s only Yoongi who you’re self-conscious around and after the whole secretly crushing on him, then not so secretly crushing on him, nothing else really matters.

Laying in bed aimlessly screaming into the void won’t do anything to help your case, so you decide to bite the bullet, face Yoongi once and for all because you’re going to have to eventually, you can’t live your life hiding from your roommate. And who knows, maybe he doesn’t even remember the conversation, or rather, Jimin spewing unfiltered words to no one in particular. Who are you kidding? Of course he remembers. He wasn’t drunk and he isn’t dumb. He knows the truth and there’s nothing you can do to change that.

Creeping out of your room like a burglar in your own home, you keep on your toes, listening for any signs of Yoongi, trying to locate him before making any rash decisions. Biting the bullet quickly turns into trying your best to stay out of sight as you peep down the hall to see his bedroom door is left half open, the way he has it when he’s not inside and you mentally cross off his room from the list in your head of places to avoid. Your eyes travel to the bathroom, but the light is off and there’s no running water to be heard; bathroom: clear. The tension rises as you move further down the hall, sneaking towards the common living space where he’s most likely to be if not in his room, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your own ears, the reality of all of this crashing down as you think of what you’ll possibly say to him when you see him. ‘Sorry’? Or maybe ‘Haha fooled you’. Or even better, you won’t say a word, the both of you pretending nothing happened as you slowly drift apart until the inevitable day comes when you no longer speak, and you are freed from the lease of the apartment and you can move to the other side of the world where you won’t need to worry anymore.

The creaking floorboard beneath your foot brings your attention back to the task at hand and you freeze in your spot, hoping you haven’t been caught. There’s no call of your name or wary ‘who’s there’, and now that you think about it, there’s no other sound other than your shallow breathes and you realize that it’s much too quiet for Yoongi to even be home. This gives you the courage to move faster as you poke your head into the living room, finding the TV off and the couch untouched; whipping your attention to the kitchen, the only sign of life even passing through the space is a coffee mug left on the counter. You visibly relax when the still room confirms Yoongi is no where to be found and your stiff muscles are loosening in relief; at least this will buy you some time to figure out what you can possibly do to remedy the situation.

Your steps are less calculated and your demeanor less apprehensive; you can finally walk through your home as if you own the place, because well, you do. The fridge is where you head to first, grabbing a glass of water to cure the dehydration you’re sure is plaguing your body from the amount of alcohol consumed the night before. Next on your To-Do list is shower, you just want to wash away the filth you feel from last night and you hope that the mess that clouds your mind will be able to rise with the steam, clearing your head so you can spend a moment in peace.

Your moment of peace doesn’t last long once you’ve wiped away the fog from the mirror and you’re returning to your room to throw on an oversized sweater. It’s when you’re already one step from the kitchen that you hear keys jingle at the door, the lock clicks and panic crawls your skin; you’re trapped like a deer frozen in headlights and maybe if you run you can make it back to your room before he steps inside, but your brain and body forget how to function and you’ve gone from a deer in highlights to a deer plucked right out of its habitat because acting natural is the last thing you’re doing right now.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow when he catches you scampering around like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing and a forced smile is all you can muster in return.

“Um, hi?” he says once he’s stepped into the apartment, throwing his keys aside and toeing his shoes off.

He has a plastic bag in his hand but you can hardly pay attention to that because you’re dumbstruck by his simple attire of black jeans and a plain white tee, the clothing adorning his body in a way that makes him look like he just walked out of a magazine and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on his collar bones that poke out from his loose shirt. Your gaze continues to trace his every feature, working your way up to take note of the cap you bought him last Christmas that has his dark hair pushed back, allowing his brows that are normally hidden behind bangs to nicely frame his face. It’s like you’re in a trance until the naturally pouted lips that have you completely captivated are moving to form words that you don’t quite catch and you shake yourself out of the daze to focus on what he has to say.

“You okay there?” Yoongi asks with the slightest hint of amusement hidden in the arch of his brow.

“I- uh, yeah,” you manage to say, still not completely back to your senses.

“Are you sure? Because you were staring,” he casually mentions as he strolls into the kitchen and places the bag down on the counter.

“No I wasn’t,” you say back too quickly and you mentally slap yourself.

“A little shy, aren’t we?” His tone makes him seem cocky and the lop-sided smile makes it even more so.

Your at a loss for words because although Yoongi’s smugness hardly ever comes as a surprise to you, it has never been aimed directly at you and your mind is in a frenzy as you try to comprehend what’s happening.

“It’s alright,” Yoongi begins when you leave him without a response, “it’s normal to get shy around your crush.” He finishes his sentence with a wink that leaves you gawking at him because never would you have expected Yoongi to be so bold in his actions, playing with your feelings so thoughtlessly.

“Since when were you a douche bag?” is the first sentence you’re able to form since Yoongi stepped through the door, and it’s a damn good one because what has gotten into Yoongi? You’d expect this behaviour from other members of the male species, but not from Yoongi; he’s a close friend, close enough to know which lines not to cross and which buttons not to push. But today something seems to be malfunctioning and you think you need to hire a repair man to fix your friend or maybe you can just get a new one all together.

“Aw, Y/N, I’m just teasing, there’s no need to get upset.”

His words only infuriate you further and you channel all of your anger into your clenched fists, clamping your lips shut to keep you from lashing back and you decide to be the bigger person as you turn on your heel and storm off towards your bedroom.

You don’t make it over the threshold in time to relax and Yoongi is just half a step behind you, calling out to you as you rush through the doorway.

Spinning around to face him, you can’t keep your cool any longer. “Leave me alone, I hate you!” you blurt out, childlike in your manner as you attempt to slam the door shut almost as if you’re a kid all over again and you’re throwing a fit over some silly mishap.

But Yoongi’s reflexes are fast and his hand shoots up in time to halt the door in its tracks, pushing it back open to be face to face with you.

“There’s a thin line between hate and love, darling,” he remarks with a voice as soft as velvet, the words rolling off his tongue so smoothly. You catch the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk before he leans in close, bringing his lips to your ear to say his next words. “And there’s a thin wall between our rooms.”

You can feel your face drain of all colour at the insinuation while simultaneously setting your skin on fire in utter embarrassment and it feels as if your flesh is wax melting off onto the floorboards, seeping into the cracks how you wish you could. The smugness is thick in his voice and it’s clear that he means exactly what you think; your little secret isn’t so secret anymore.

He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze intimidating but captivating all at once and you can’t bring yourself to look away. “You really thought I didn’t know? Every little sound, every moan, every time you called out my name – I heard it all, Y/N. It was torture sitting there in my room listening to you touch yourself when it could’ve been me touching you instead.” He pauses, his eyes darkening at his next words. “Tell me, how many fingers did you have inside of you when you were imagining it was me?”

You’re at a loss for words, but what Yoongi has in mind doesn’t need any because instead of saying anymore, he’s leaning down low and tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss that you’ve only ever had in your dreams. Everything stops and you feel like a cliché in a teenage movie; you’re frozen in time and space and the only thing that matters is here and now, you and Yoongi. It takes a moment for you to come back to your senses, realizing that this is actually happening, Yoongi is kissing you right now and you should probably kiss him back.

Snaking your arms around his neck for leverage, Yoongi groans into your mouth when you pull yourself closer to deepen the kiss and his hands automatically find their way around your waist to hold you flush against his body. Eagerness has your lips parting and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to let his tongue slip into your mouth, greedy to get a better taste of you and it’s messy and rushed but perfect in every way. Somehow his hat is on the floor and your fingers thread through his hair, his own fingers finding their way to the hem of your sweater to get under the material; his hands are cold against your flushed skin, heightening the sensation of each of his movements as he rubs and squeezes at your flesh, working his way to your ass.  His firm hand massages your bottom and you’re breaking the kiss to moan out in pleasure, your hips buck forward and you begin to grind on the bulge forming in his pants.

The sounds are like music to his ears, not muffled behind closed doors and drywall, but loud and clear as you whimper at his every touch and Yoongi thinks he can get used to this. He’s quick to pepper kisses along your neck, biting and gnawing in all the right places, anything to hear you whimpering and with every moan all that goes through his mind is ‘mine, mine, mine’. He wonders what other noises he can get you make and he’s greedy to find out as soon as possible, hooking his fingers under your sweater to pull the fleece over your head.

Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra beneath the fabric and he stares at you almost in disbelief. “You’ll be the death of me,” Yoongi breathes out, his eyes raking over every curve of your body until a flash of darkness crosses over them and they glaze over in desire.  It feels like an eternity with the way he’s looking at you, admiring you, before he’s attacking your lips, hungry for more and he takes a step forward, the two of you stumbling to the other side of the room. This kiss doesn’t last as long because you’re just as impatient as Yoongi and your roaming hands find their way to the hem of his shirt just as the back of your legs come in contact with the mattress and your knees buckle to fall back on the cushion. The eagerness has Yoongi practically ripping the shirt off of his own back before he climbs up on the bed, crawling on top of you as you pull yourself up the length of the bed. Lips lock and you’re chest to chest, skin to skin to finally feel Yoongi against you, touching you in ways you’ve only ever imagined.

Yearning for more, you’re no longer in control of your body when your hips begin to move against his, looking for any kind of relief from the aching desire deep within your core. The dry humping is short lived when Yoongi’s grip is pinning your hips to the mattress and his lips break away from yours to trail down your jaw, neck, and chest; licking and sucking every part of your exposed skin. The hand on your hip doesn’t hesitate to find its way to your panty clad cunt, and your mind almost goes blank when Yoongi’s thumb begins to massage your clit through the fabric. You’ve long ago soaked through the material and Yoongi can’t hide his satisfaction that has a hum leaving his lips once he’s face to face with the cotton that clings to your folds with your arousal.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whine out in the way you’ve done so many nights before.

His eyes flash up at you and you can see the way he’s riled up, desire flaring in his irises. “Say it again,” he says almost as a demand with his voice lowering and you don’t hesitate to whimper out his name when he’s puts more pressure on your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the bundle of nerves.

‘Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi,’ escapes your lips in between heavy breaths and the sound alone has him worked up almost as much as you although you’ve yet to lay a finger on him. Yoongi’s patience wears thinner and thinner with each moan of his name until it’s non-existent and he rids you of your panties in seconds, finally getting a look at your bare body in all its glory.

A single finger slides up your slit, collecting the juices that are already leaking out and all you want to do is shy away when Yoongi puts the digit in his mouth to get a taste, but his grip on your thigh keeps your legs open and exposed for him. He sucks it clean as if your arousal is the most delicious thing he has ever had the pleasure to taste on his tongue and the sight sends shivers down your spine; a lick of his lips and a flash of a smirk are the last things you see before his face is buried between your legs and you feel as if every tension in your body is being released. You gasp out at the sudden sensation of Yoongi’s mouth on your folds and your eyes screw shut while your fingers get tangled in his hair. He runs his tongue up and down your slit, getting lost in the taste until he stops at your clit, licking and sucking in a way that has you mewling beneath him. His fingers find their way to your entrance and there’s no more time for teasing because he pushes two in without warning and the stretch feels so good you’re tugging at Yoongi’s hair, pulling him closer if that’s even possible, before grinding into his face. This has him growling against you and the vibration mixed with the quick thrusting of his fingers almost has you losing it.

With a cry of his name, you’re clenching around nothing when he pulls his fingers out from your walls; his jaw slackens and tongue flattens, and he lets you ride out your high on his face, drowning him in your cum that he’s eager to lick up.

Exhaustion washes over you almost as hard as your orgasm did and you release your hold on Yoongi, your body going limp as your bones and muscles feel as if they are melting into the mattress. You fight off the forces that anchor your body, that’s more Jell-O than human, to the bed just enough to lift your head and find Yoongi peeking up at you. His rounded eyes make him look cute despite the aftermath of your climax smeared across his face and he looks so innocent it’s almost deceiving. Yoongi keeps his curious gaze locked on yours as he leans down and licks one big swipe up your slit, mischievousness creeping its way onto his face as you wriggle around at the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation.

“Yoongi, stoppppp,” you playfully whine, dragging out the syllables as he continues with kitten licks in between his lighthearted laughter. Your legs lock around his head in hopes of hampering his movement, but his fingertips poking at your sides in light tickles have you loosening your grip enough for him to move.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he says, his voice losing all playfulness and going back to gruff and husky with an undertone of lust.

Yoongi sits up on his knees, lifting your legs with him and your ankles lock behind his neck as he manages to maneuver out of his pants.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking, desperate for attention that you’ll very gladly give it. He takes his member in his hand and you swallow hard as he slowly pumps it, watching as the bead of pre-cum drips from the tip and his thumb rolls it over his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you have a taste later,” Yoongi says smugly, and you have to forcefully break your stare away from his dick to meet his eyes. You’re all but drooling and with the way he stares at you with a cocky smirk pulling at his lips, you know your every thought is written across your face.

Having enough of the chit chat, Yoongi leans in closer with you legs still in the air, practically folding you in half, and if you knew you’d be testing your flexibility today, you definitely would have stretched before hand. Your legs rest on his shoulders and he groans in approval when he sees your cunt glistening for him once more; it’s not surprising that you’re wet already with all the filthy thoughts of his cock going straight to your core.

Yoongi’s breath comes out heavy when finally there’s contact between his tense member and your slick folds and he can no longer restrain himself, positioning his head at your entrance and giving you a moment’s notice before he’s slamming into you. It’s as if the wind has been knocked out of you and you grasp at the sheets to ground yourself because if you thought the stretch of his fingers was otherworldly, this sends you traveling through space and time to another dimension. There’s no holding back the cries of pleasure that pour from your lips when he begins to thrust and you yell out his name in ways you only wished you could every time you were tucked away between closed doors, fingers buried within yourself, calling out to him in a soundless whimper. But there’s no holding back for you or Yoongi, moaning out his name relentlessly as he responds in the form of grunts each time his hips collide with your skin, pounding into you like he’s a starved man and you’re his saving grace.

Your second orgasm comes as a tsunami, as if the ocean floor is cracking open and unleashing the sheer force of the natural disaster in the form of unmeasurable bliss. The sun and moon play tug of war with every gravitational pull and waves of pleasure surge through your body with each roll of his hips, leaving you to float off into oblivion as Yoongi chases his own high that has long pushed him over the edge, hardly grasping at reality when his seed fills you and slick, lewd sounds mix in between heavy breathes and uncontrolled moans.

Exhaustion hits you hard once the adrenaline dies down and Yoongi is practically dead weight curled around your body in a way that conveys so much innocence that it’s almost unbelievable that this is the same man that a few moments earlier was balls deep within you. His head rests on your breasts and the warm air that leaves his lips with each breath tickles your skin; the arm that is strewn carelessly across your hips tightens around you and you peer down to find Yoongi staring up at you.

“How long?” he asks after a moment of silently gazing at each other.

Your question of ‘how long what?’ is heard unsaid and he’s replying instantly.

“How long since you started touching yourself to the thought of me?”

The words sound vulgar now that your body has drained of all arousal and you’re returning to the shy mess you were earlier.

“Mmm,” you ponder for a moment with your lips pressed together; there’s really nothing to lose at this point. “A few months probably? Maybe more?” you say unsurely, but you’re not unsure at all, you remember very vividly when this began and you could tell him an exact date if he asked. “It was that day I accidentally… walked in on you naked.”

Except you didn’t really walk in on him, you more of ripped the sheets off of his bare body after barging into the room.

8:36. Shit. You slept through your alarms (stress on the ‘s’ because you set approximately 6 different alarms to avoid this exact situation). You bolt up from your bed that’s still scattered with notes from your late-night study session and flail around the room in a panic trying to collect your books and yourself. 8:41. You’ve managed to get semi-clean clothes on your body and a toothbrush in your mouth. Your school bag is slung over your shoulder and you burst into Yoongi’s room without a second thought. It’s a 10 minute drive to campus, Yoongi will take 6 minutes to get out of bed and make sense of your uncoherent squabbling, 1 minute for the elevator to get you to the garage where his car is parked; leaving you with 2 minutes to spare before exam papers are slapped down on your desk and the ‘no talking or you get a zero’ rule is implemented.

Still running numbers through your head, you frantically call out to Yoongi who is sound asleep while reaching for the blanket that has him tucked in. Your hand balls around the fabric and you tear it away from his sleeping form in one swift movement. One second you’re trying to figure out if you’ll make it to school in time to write your exam and the next, you’re staring point-blank at Yoongi’s erect cock.

Morning wood is no where close to being a new concept to you, it’s an odd, but natural occurrence that you came to terms with at some point between middle school and high school when you woke up next to your best friend, accusing him of being a pervert. But here and now? It’s a completely different situation. Yoongi, not only your roommate but also your long-term crush, can get you hot and bothered by just coming home sweaty after a workout. You’ve been able to suppress all the dirty thoughts that creep into your mind late at night, but naked Yoongi in your imagination is nothing close to naked Yoongi in real life. As much as you wish you could stand there and admire him in all his glory, the sight leaves you flustered, blushing violently when Yoongi startles awake and you apologize profusely, not looking back as you run out of the room.

You take an Uber to school and barely manage to make it through your exam without the image of Yoongi popping up in your mind every other question. You take the long way home, getting off the bus a few stops early to aimlessly walk through the park, stopping to buy coffee from the cozy shop on the corner, only returning home once you’re sure Yoongi is not there. That night, when the naughty images seep into your thoughts, you don’t have the willpower to deny it any longer and Yoongi’s name slips from your lips when your fingers slip into your walls.

“So I could’ve been listening to you moan my name for months?” Yoongi questions, shock and disappointment crossing his features all at once. “And here I thought I stumbled across a gold mine a few weeks ago when I heard you through the walls.”

Neither of you say anymore and the room falls silent save for the shallow breaths that have your chests rising and falling in sync. Yoongi stays wrapped around you and you begin to feel sleep heavy on your eyelids until he’s speaking again.

“How long?” he questions once again and confusion crosses your features because didn’t you just answer that question? “How long have you had this crush?” he clarifies.

This question, you’re not so quick to answer, feeling embarrassed and shy that he’s even bringing it up. It somehow feels more intimate than the last question and you weren’t planning to confess to him like this (you weren’t planning to confess to him at all if you’re being honest). It seems silly that your skin still flushes under the weight of his gaze after everything that just happened, but you can’t help it and you avert your eyes trying to collect your thoughts.

“I don’t know,” you mumble after a moment, needing to give him some sort of answer even if it’s inadequate and you’re positive he can hear the way your heart races in your chest, fluttering away with nerves and timidity.

Yoongi is perceptive and your silence on the matter is a clear indicator that this crush has been going on longer than you care to admit, not to mention the way your heart pounds beneath where his head rests, sounding like there’s a marching band making its rounds in your rib cage.

“Don’t tell me that not only could I have been listening to you moan out my name for months, but I also could’ve been dating you for months?” The question is rhetorical with the revelation of your well-kept secret and instantly, implications of his words have you dizzy with a million thoughts whirling around in your mind.

Before you can get any words out to ask for clarification, frantically searching your brain that’s a muddled mess for a coherent sentence, there’s a loud knock at the front door and you instantly freeze, the sudden intrusion startling you. Yoongi is thinking on the same wavelength as you when he stills, as if the slightest movement will tip off whoever’s at the door that you two are indeed home. The knocking persists and despite the blush that seems to permanently paint your skin pink, there is nothing in this world that can bring you to leave Yoongi’s arms.

‘Y/N!’ you hear being called and you groan for what feels like an eternity before reaching for Yoongi’s wrist to remove his arm from your waist.

Yoongi only resists, tightening his hold on you, “can’t we just pretend we’re not home?”

‘Y/N, open the door!’ Your best friend’s voice travels through the walls in between the pounding of his fist on the wood and you sincerely wish it was that simple.

“This is Jimin we’re talking about, he’s not going to leave,” you inform Yoongi, knowing your friend all too well.

“It’s not like he’ll know that we’re here,” Yoongi counters, trying to find anyway to convince you to stay here wrapped up in your own little world where you and he are the only thing that matters.

‘I know you’re in there! Y/N, please!’

You look at Yoongi pointedly, “I’m only ever at home or at his place, there’s no getting out of this.” And although you’ve made your point, you’re reluctant to leave the arms that you’ve spent countless hours day dreaming about.

“Okay, how about you get rid of him, and I draw us a bath?” he proposes with a soft smile finding its way to his lips.

They way he says ‘us’ has your heart going through another frenzied fit of fluttering and Yoongi chuckles at your reaction that you don’t even bother to hide. You squeak out a small ‘okay’ and the smile he gives you in return is breathtaking, heartwarming in the way his pearly whites and pink gums show nothing but pure joy.

Yoongi shifts to press the softest of kisses to the skin between your breasts and untangles his limbs from yours, “see you soon, doll face.”

He’s already on his feet, strolling out the door before he can witness the way you squirm in the sheets and if he wasn’t on the other side of a piece of drywall, you’d be squealing into a pillow in delight, feeling like you’re dancing on the clouds with the world at your feet.

Jimin all but drops to his knees when you swing the door open, begging for forgiveness as he apologizes over and over for his big mouth that causes nothing but trouble. You have to laugh at that because his big mouth has done quite the opposite this time around and you tell him you’re not mad, trying to convince him that you truly mean it and you usher him back out the door as you let him know you have something to tell him later. With a quick hug, you’re closing the door, a small ‘thank you’ slipping from your lips, leaving him to stare at you in confusion for the split second before the door clicks shut and you’re turning around to run back to Yoongi.

The small space is filled with steam and Yoongi greets you from the tub, already submerged in the hot water with bubbles foaming around his body. A smile breaks across his face when you enter the room and he holds out a hand, waiting for you to join him as you rid yourself of the sweater you threw on to answer the door. You take his hand and step into the tub, settling between his legs as warmth envelopes your body in the form of limbs and water and everything good.

Bubbles tickle your toes and it feels as if you’re melting in delight; your back is to Yoongi’s chest, your head lolled back to rest on his shoulder and he nuzzles your neck, peppering your skin with featherlight kisses. It’s all so surreal and if someone had told you yesterday that you’d be taking part in such affectionate activities with Yoongi, you would’ve laughed in their face at the absurdity. But as dreamlike as it may seem, the arms wound tightly around your waist are too secure to be an illusion wrapped up in your subconscious and the lips on your neck, the nibbles on your ear are too gentle, too soft, too wonderous and unimaginable to be something conceived within the confinements of your own mind. You’re living out your every dream and with the way Yoongi silently hums in content as he holds you close, tracing your skin, he’s living out his too.

[roman-reigns-princess]

Cat & Mouse (Roman Reigns): Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Read it on Wattpad Writing Masterlist

Warnings: alcohol consumption, r*ndy *rt*n gets a little rapey, um i really cant think of anything else??

Word Count: 2156

A/N: I’m so sorry its been like 2 months since i updated, i went thru a writing slump lmfao. i think im back now tho, and there’ll be actual smut in the next chapter (im alr like half way thru w it). Also I know a lot of yall changed your usernames, I dont remember every new user name, I tried my best to change them but if im tagging your old account please let me know

Tag List (if anyone wants to be added, let me know): @m-a-t-91@mrsamberlopezgoodanoai@simulated-heat @greatbreadwizard @hoodgirl163 @sabrina-blyton @reignwithflair@sunflowers-and-swear-words @alexahood21@ii-love-roman-reigns @queenreignsempire @flawlessglamazon @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @fivefootxo  @finnbalorsdemonqueen @romanempressfics @rocketgirl2410@sausagefest1996 @vebner37@macfizzle @cute-face-chubby-waist @wwefoever70@horcruxhunter5972 @cool-snowball-22-blog @designrwriterchic @metaldeedsblobfish@inkedirishbbydoll-blog-blog @calwitch (sorry if i missed anyone)

Finally around 9pm, they headed out of the hotel to meet the men in a club a couple blocks away.

15 minutes later, Lyra and Naomi entered the club to find the guys occupying a secluded booth near the bar, and away from the dance floor. Even as they walked up to the table, Lyra could see Jimmy's eyes change colour as he drank in his mate's flawless figure.

Lyra was thankful that the club was mainly filled with humans, there were a couple of Alphas and Betas sitting at other tables, but most didn't seem to notice her. She made it a point to avoid them, and try and mask her scent with the humans.

On their way there, she'd managed to convince Naomi to keep quiet about her heat. She didn't need the guys treating her weird, or worse, making her go back. Naomi went to join the guys while Lyra went to order an Appletini for her friend, and a Vodka Sunset (A/N: these are really good tbh) for herself.

Lyra hopped up onto a barstool to wait for her drinks. It was a pretty busy night due to the fact that it was a Saturday, and wrestling fans going to the Rumble the next day were also out and about. Roman and his cousins had chosen a darker corner to hopefully minimize people interrupting their personal time.

Lyra glanced back at her friends and chuckled when she saw Jey looking bored and a little irritated as he tried to ignore his brother and Naomi who were basically grinding on each other, not giving a fuck about either of the other two men at the table.

Despite promising herself that she would not acknowledge Roman that night, Lyra found her gaze sliding over to him. He was already staring at her, an intense, hungry look in his eyes that had turned a bright silver-grey. A shiver of lust ran down her body, and she forced herself to turn away.

It was going to be a lot harder than she'd anticipated to ignore him. Not only could she barely keep her eyes off him, but his scent had hit her the moment she walked into the club. Her heightened senses constantly drew her attention to him even when she tried to focus them elsewhere.

She stiffened as she picked up on his footsteps through the clamor of people and music. She pretended not to notice him until she heard him clear his throat. She slowly turned the bar stool to face him.

"Oh hey, Roman," she blinked up at him, putting on a sickly sweet smile; he stood before her, arms crossed with a stern look on his face. She hated to admit it, but he made the simple jeans, shirt, and a leather jacket look mouth watering. "Can I help you?"

"You shouldn't be here," he said. She should've known he'd say something like that, of course he'd notice, she grumbled to herself. Rolling her eyes at him, she turned back, not wanting to deal with his shit at that moment, earning a snarl from him. "Don't fuckin turn away from me."

"Don't fuckin tell me what to do," she shot back, refusing to look at him. She let out a soft whimper, and her grip tightened on the bar in front of her as she felt his fingers sliding under her jacket and shirt to grip the right side of her waist; her cheeks flushed as he brushed her hair aside with his other hand, leaning in till his breath tickled her ear. His scent wrapped around her, calming her nerves down; he smelled like a delicious mix of hot chocolate and caramel, and she wanted nothing more than to drag him back to her room and let him play out his worst fantasies with her.

"Baby, you can't be here, you think us Alphas don't know what a shifter in heat smells like? That little jacket's doin shit to mask your scent," he spoke low enough that the noise around them would hide his words from any wolves or shifters nearby. Part of her knew that he was right, and that he was only saying these things because he cared, but she was too stubborn to agree with him.

"I'll be fine, I can handle myself," she mumbled, luckily Roman's reply was interrupted by the bartender bringing over her drinks. Roman let go of her as she grabbed the drinks. "Listen all I'm asking is that you leave me alone tonight, you clearly aren't interested, and I get it, but I deserve to have my fun."

She brushed past him without waiting for his reply; silently, he followed her, looking like she'd just punched him in the gut. Putting a smile on her face she slid in next to Naomi, handing her the Appletini. The older woman downed her drink then waited for Lyra to finish hers before dragging her out to the dance floor.

Several dances, and even more drinks, into the night, Lyra staggered over to their booth that was now empty. She had had a little too much to drink, and the room was starting to spin a little; groaning, she rested her head on the cooling surface of the table.

She'd given Jimmy all her cards both for safe keeping and to make sure that she wouldn't be able to drink anymore, but she'd cut herself off too late, and she knew she was going to have a splitting headache the next day.

The sound of someone sliding into the booth next to her had her head jerking up, she shook her head a little as the room was still swimming. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she saw Randy Orton, one of the other Alphas in the locker room, sitting next to her, his head tilted a little as he looked at her with a sneer.

"What's a pretty little shifter like you doing getting drunk during her heat?" He said in a soft, condescending tone, as his eyes swept over her, lingering a little too long on her chest.

"I-I dunno what you're talkin bout, I think I should go now," she mumbled, trying to inch away from him, pulling Naomi's jacket around herself, but his smirk only widened when he heard her words.

"Is that right?" He replied, his voice had a dangerous edge to it, and, unlike Roman, his scent set her nerves on edge as he leaned in. She tried to cringe away but she was pressed up against the end of the booth, and he blocked the only way out. A shiver of fear ran through her as she realized she was cornered by an Alpha that was both bigger and stronger than her. "Well you certainly smell like a shifter in heat, first day am I right? Why don't I take you back...make sure that no one gets to you, it's not safe for a little shifter like you out here."

"N-no I dontwanna-," he ignored her words, grabbing her wrist and pulling her out of the booth despite her slurred protests. She had no choice but to stumble after him, her hazy mind still trying to work out what to do as they exited the club. Before she could think her way out of the situation, a large hand grabbed her free wrist and jerked her back, making her yelp in pain.

"Let go of Lyra," came Roman's voice from behind her, she looked up to see him glaring at Randy.

"Oh yeah, why should I? What I do with this little shifter is none of your business," Randy retorted, his voice adopting a mocking tone. Lyra glanced between the two Alphas, this wouldn't end well if it got physical.

"Because I fuckin said so, she's mine, get your dirty little paws off her," Roman warned, Lyra's eyes snapped to him, the surprise at him calling her his was evident on her face.

"She doesn't seem to know that, I've seen they way the two of you act around each other, you send some very mixed signals, Roman, no wonder she's getting drunk on the first day of her heat if her Alpha can't satisfy her," a viscous smile carved across Randy's face as Roman snarled at him. He finally let of of Lyra, allowing her to curl into the safety of Roman's arms. "Or maybe that's what you were waiting for, so you could do whatever you want to her with minimal resistance, can't say I never thought of it."

A shiver of revulsion ran through her, making her cling to Roman's shirt. Randy turned away and walked back into the club before Roman could spit back a reply. He stood there for a moment, glaring after the retreating Alpha.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed, you're gonna have a shitty hangover in the morning," he said, turning her around and walking her in the direction of the hotel. He kept a hand on her waist to stabilize her so that she wouldn't trip over in her heels. "D'you got your keycard?"

"Left it with Jimmy," she replied, not in the mood to talk, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground to try and avoid any more stumbling.

"Ah fuck, okay you can have my bed, I'll take Jimmy's, I got no idea when or if he's coming back to the room," he said, more to himself than her. They walked the rest of the way in silence. Lyra was practically falling asleep against Roman by the time they reached the elevators. He had to half carry her to the room, then pushed her towards the bathroom. "You gotta get that makeup off, can't have you messin up the sheets. I think Naomi keeps some of her stuff with Jimmy's shit."

He left her leaning against the counter as he went to rummage through his cousin's things. She had to grab the edge to stop herself from falling over when he left her side, the alcohol mixed with the fatigued caused by her heat was not a fun combo. By the time he came back with a little makeup bag, and a black shirt in hand, she was falling asleep standing up. He gently shook her awake and handed her the stuff.

"I hope Naomi got some of that makeup remover stuff in there, and you can change into this shirt if you wanna, is up to you," he said, she mumbled her thanks and unzipped the little bag to find a small packet of makeup wipes as he walked out, leaving her alone to change.

Eager to get to sleep, she made quick work of the makeup, washing her face with some warm water to get rid of any residue. She pulled off her boots, shorts and tank top and left them in a pile on the floor of the bathroom along with Naomi's jacket. Finally, she pulled on Roman's shirt, the material soft and soothing against her skin, before making her way out of the bathroom.

She found Roman perched on the edge of what she assumed was his bed, and she headed straight for it.

He looked like he was about to say something to her, but her exhaustion prompted her to ignore him, and crawl under the covers with a groan. She heard him snort; in amusement or annoyance, she couldn't tell.

The bed shifted as Roman stood up and padded over to the bathroom to take a shower, leaving her tossing and turning on the bed as she tried to find a nice spot.

By the time Roman was done, coming out in nothing but a pair of shorts as usual, he found Lyra buried under the covers, face down in the pillows. He sighed to himself, walking up to her to turn her over.

"Babe, you had a lot to drink tonight, you shouldn't be sleeping face down or face up," he said, not even sure if she was awake as he rolled her onto her side, but before he could pull away she grabbed his arm and hugged it to her.

"Cuddles please, warm," her sleep riddled mind barely even registering what she was doing. Roman froze, torn between wanting to give in, and wanting to keep his distance as he'd managed to do so far. He tried one more time to dislodge his arm, but her grip held tight as she nuzzled her face against his palm; groaning to himself, he careful slid onto the bed until her back was pressed against his chest.

As he pulled the covers up around them, he halfheartedly promised himself that he'd sneak out once she was properly asleep.

He took a sharp breath as she wriggled around, trying to find the perfect position, which just happened to include her ass pressed against his dick. He wrapped his arms under her chest to keep her still against him burying his face in her hair. Taking a deep breath, he slowly drifted off to sleep.