#sorry the lighting is so ass btw i took this in the Early Morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cinnaminsvga · 5 years ago

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Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

�� summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #no more smut for 2020......... NO MORE #next fic is angst idc anymore I NEED TO CLEANSE MYSELF AHHHHHH

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mimizepp · 4 years ago

Note

may i request poly bruabba relationship hcs if you’re okay writing that ? 😛

i can never get enough bruabba goddamn i love them so much.. fluff + nsfw hcs and i added some scenarios for how the relationship came to be just for some fic practice i guess? enjoy !!! (also sorry my nsfw headcanons are never great but i tried)

poly bruabba relationship hcs

- bruno and abbacchio always saw their soon to be s/o in libeccio, alone most days but sometimes joined by a friend or two. they sat at a table relatively close to + facing the entrance, visible to anybody walking in

- half due to suspicion, abbacchio always made unbreaking eye contact with s/o. it wasn’t anything threatening but he surely didn’t make himself appear too friendly. the way s/o never failed maintain this mutual gaze intrigued abbacchio, enough to tell bruno about this strangely sexy person of interest

- bruno was equally compelled to s/o, and even started to subtly express his interest once he and abba discussed the possibility of a polyamorous relationship

- bruno would slow down as he passed by s/o, just barely dragging a long finger along the table as he gave a soft, bidding smile. abba would follow behind, a mellower expression than usual, which s/o returned

- little bouts of small talk sprouted from this, s/o charming the hell out of bruno and abbacchio. s/o would occasionally join abbacchio outside for a quiet smoke, which he thought to be quite endearing

- for a while s/o never joined bruno nor abbacchio for a proper meal, as they were always with their associates or whatnot. it was a tad disappointing and s/o almost felt as if this friendliness between the three would never become anything more, but one morning bruno and abbacchio walked in libeccio, abba going the usual way and bruno approaching s/o

- ‘cara/caro, would you care to join us somewhere more private?’

- after melting under that sweet, familiar voice of reason, s/o gladly followed. in the private area sat abbacchio at a table in the corner, bruno escorting s/o to a seat beside him. abbacchio smirked and poured s/o a cup of (NON PISS) tea before questioning them about loads of things

- before s/o knew it, they were in a poly relationship with two of the sexiest gang members in italy

fluff

- abbacchio softens up a bunch and always has this understated, loving expression when with bruno and s/o

- bruno becomes even more of a mommy and loooves babying s/o and abba on their days off

- YES THIS MEANS HE LETS THEM SIT AROUND AS HE DOES EVERYTHING FOR THEM IT’S HIS PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE AND ITS SO SWEET

- if he’s been overworked due to passione business, s/o and abba like to take care of him for the day so he can unwind

- bruno and abba feel really bad that they have to leave s/o for work so often so they’re always calling to check in + love bringing little gifts home for their s/o

- if bruno and abba come home exhausted / beat from work they’ll cuddle up with s/o and form a little bruabba nap sandwich for a little while

- if s/o’s back is ever turned, either bruno or abba will be going in for a soft little embrace just for a few moments (or longer if they feel like chatting and swaying for a bit)

- bruno and abba love bringing s/o to libeccio, whether it’s to accompany them in meetings with the bucci boys or just for a comfortable meal together (it also just reminds them of how this beautiful little relationship came to be)

- btw the bucci boys really like s/o + love how abbacchio softens up when s/o is present (saves giorno from constant berating and glares)

- little comforting things with hands are all the pda abba is able to tolerate (there will be arms wrapped around waists, hands resting on lower backs, and hands held AT ALL TIMES)

- s/o and bruno love teasing abba and like to kiss one another in public, just to see if he will want to get a peck of his own (leone usually doesn’t induldge himself when they’re out but will defo be glaring with an eyebrow raised until s/o and bruno stop)

- one time s/o just went for it and placed a little kiss on abbacchio’s cheek + bruno took a photo just as abba’s face was its deepest shade of red

- if any single one of the lot is sleepy, all three are required to cuddle up and get cozy (it’s an unspoken poly bruabba rule)

- the same goes for little kisses at home. if abba gets three, then bruno gets three... etc.

- s/o and bruno often wake before abba and love surprising him with breakfast in bed :,)

- just once did abba wake up super early and try to surprise his babies with a meal... he burnt everything and was later found on the kitchen floor sipping a glass of wine and eating a blackened piece of toast

- abbacchio likes doing his hair and makeup in the quiet company of s/o + bruno (who will be doing whatever necessary to make sure his braid + bob are up to par)

- abbacchio sometimes gets really indecisive and asks s/o and bruno if he should try out his black or green lipstick, but he always ends up going with his safe choice despite anything said (light purple)

- on lazy days at home abba ties his hair back loosely and wears a large tshirt with boxer briefs and some comfy ass slippers + bruno has his hair styled very slightly and wears a cute little sweater with comfy pj pants. s/o wears one of abba’s large tshirts with just undies underneath as well as some fuzzy socks

- bruno is often dreaming of having children with s/o and abba + really wants to have a nice little house to raise them in the countryside someday

- dates are usually planned by bruno, who loves having s/o and abba in cute family-owned restaurants or niche little locations that he knows his babies would adore

- abbacchio has planned several wine tasting dates along with a few afternoon picnics. he always takes s/o and bruno to this quiet, secluded park that has the loveliest view

- sometimes abba and s/o tirelessly try to come up with ways to surprise bruno + thank him for all his hard work as a milf, and they normally end up trying to cook his favorite meal (bruno is so grateful for this even if it doesn’t taste the nicest.. he loves the sentiment though and his heart feels so FULL)

- bruno says ‘i love you’ not only through his words, but also with his touch. s/o can always tell when bruno is embracing them in a way that communicates such a feeling, whether it be a kiss on the forehead or the squeeze of a hand. he most often likes to stand behind s/o with his hands on their hips, so he can lean in to kiss their cheek and bring his arms around their waist and hug them as tight as possible

- abba says ‘i love you’ with his eyes and facial expressions. whenever doing daily / domestic tasks with s/o, abba holds the warmest, most adoring look on his face as he looks at his dearest. s/o always meets his eyes and blushes before reminding abba how much they love him, to which abba responds with a light ‘mm’ full of intimacy

nsfw

- as much as s/o abba and bruno hate to admit it... jealousy and lust are MAJOR players in the bedroom

- bruno gave s/o more attention than he gave abbacchio? abba’s making sure he gets his share of it and has the two follow his every demand + won’t let them finish until they’re begging for it with tears in their eyes

- so many hickies / love bites EVERYWHERE

- also loads of purple kisses will be all over s/o and bruno’s chests

- abbacchio loooves having s/o take him from behind as bruno plays with himself (and vice-versa)

- ‘bruno can’t wait for his turn to get inside you... i know you’d love that, you fucking whore.’

- abbacchio likes being pegged by bruno while giving s/o oral more than he’d like to admit + still won’t let s/o or bruno finish until he wants them to

- whenever pegged by bruno or s/o he usually gets super bratty and loves being punished with many slaps on the ass / accross his face

- shibari.

- abba will intricately tie s/o with their hands bound behind their back. he and bruno will have a liiittle too much fun teasing s/o until they’re nearly crying + begging one of the two to fuck them senseless

- if bruno ever gets to take the lead he makes it much slower and intimate most times, focusing loads on foreplay

- he likes having s/o and abba wear blindfolds so they never know where his next touch will come from + is always down to tease with some nipple play

- looooves lightly tracing his fingers down s/o and abba’s torsos until he reaches their inner thighs and watching his babies shudder beneath him

- if s/o or abba ever whine during foreplay or lean into his touch, bruno will punish them by making the other cum first and then edging the impatient party until he’s satisfied

- ‘hm, it seems you’re coming close, amore mio.’ he will cease movement completely and smirk, ‘i’ll let you finish soon enough.’

- abbacchio likes cumming inside s/o or bruno, but doesn’t mind having to pull out and finish in their mouth or on their chest

- bruno loooves finishing all over s/o and abbacchio while they have their mouths wide open and waiting for him

- as for what happens after sexytime, abba is the first to get sleepy and ask s/o to cuddle + bruno goes and gets towels and some glasses of water for his two favorite people

- s/o bruno and abba will cuddle for a little while and make sure each of the three is satisfied and soothed + then they’ll all lovingly drift off to sleep at some point during the night

- they will all be showering together quite sensually in the morning with plenty of sudsy groping

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ivyglow · 4 years ago

Text

Thinking ‘bout you | Mat Barzal NYI

A/n: Hey, guys! This request was from the song prompt list that @with-the-words-all-wrong tagged me, you can check it on her profile <3. I’m sorry I took too long, but I decided to write a whole ass piece and here it is (and guess what? I hated it lmao).

- Btw if someone wants to proof read my pieces it would be great, just dm me if you’re interested!

Word count: 3.3k

Requested prompt: 10 “Can I see you again and not feel bad about it” & 13 “I liked when you cared about me too”

Summary: Y/n and Mat met through mutual friends and it’s not long before they start hooking up. She’s has a wild spirit, he’s looking for someone to settle down. Is it possible to meet the right person at the wrong time?

Flashbacks in Italic!

Things started slowly but surely people knew it was coming. Since the first time y/n was introduced to Mat’s circle of friends, everyone noticed the way his eyes sparkled with interest and the way she seemed to reciprocate it. They were both young, reckless and any slight chance of love or affection sounded good to Barzal at that time. He was living on his own, and sure most of his time was at practice or out with his friends, but the home-alone time made him think about some things such as settling or at least going for something more serious than the eventual hookups that he would have.

Y/n was funny and beautiful. God, was she beautiful.

The first thing he noticed about her was the eyes. On that low lighted bar, her eyes were glowing green in contrast with her skin. She was wearing jeans and sneakers, outstanding everyone. She was so simple, and maybe that was the thing that drew him towards her. The feeling of not caring about what people would think, not being open to doing everything as expected but doing it as you wanted to.

And maybe, just maybe, it was this exact feeling that made y/n choose Mathew.

Everyone in her family was expecting her to get into a serious relationship as soon as she landed in New York, but as her friend, Kayla would say “New York it’s not the place to find a lover”, and she was well aware of being on the age of glory. Her early twenties and the freedom of living on her own, paying her own bills something she dreamed of since she turned fourteen.

She wanted to have fun and Mathew Barzal was definitely a funny guy.

They went to many friends’ meetings before finally taking a step on the obvious sexual tension. That did not mean it was time enough to become best friends, it was time enough to become mutuals. He knew some things about her and she knew some about him. He knew, for example, that she hated when people tried to make decisions for her, she liked independence in every way and damn was y/n mad when their friends tried to pair her with Mat before she could make her mind about it.

The thing she knew about him was that he liked her and she knew it because he was an obvious guy or at least he was obvious when it came to her. Not in the sweet romantic way, but in a cute and affectionate way.

Or at least that’s what she tried to remember while things started to escalate quickly with movie nights and nights in, or morning sex. They were getting attached, but it wasn’t what y/n planned at all and she knew she had a short amount of time before she would get attached herself.

It was a Friday night, she had an average day at work and the guys were celebrating friendship, just the possibility of having their small and closed group whenever they needed. These kinds of celebrations started with Kayla, she was the one always wondering and getting the best of life, pulling her focus towards the small details of life that usually made it better. Her biggest fear was to die without enjoying life, y/n was always down for her ideas and shared a fear that looked a lot like Kayla’s.

They were chilling in Tito’s balcony, drinks in hand, enjoying the feeling of the cold New York air hitting their faces and the noises of the city that never sleeps being drowned by the many floors below. Kayla was telling one of her stories while Mat, Joe, Katy, and Isabela listened carefully. Tito was sitting by them but seemed lost on his own little world, the reason why y/n would sometimes call him ‘dreamy boy’. A random song was playing low on the speakers, but everyone heard when y/n finally arrived.

“Why you always late?” Joe asked before swinging the rest of his beer in a long sip.

“I’m never late…” she faked confusion before going for the wine bottle. “You guys just always early.”

Mat chuckled and Kayla rolled her eyes slightly, he liked her so much he even found her shitty jokes funny. Or maybe it was just Mathew, he usually was the first one to laugh, anything was fun to him, almost like he didn’t curse or lost his mind every 5 minutes on the ice.

“That one is old, y/n” Tito finally left his dreamy thoughts and provoked his friend. He loved to joke around with y/n, it was like she had an answer for everything and she also happened to be a great listener whenever he needed a sincere opinion that wasn’t from Barzal.

“You’re getting old too and I’m not saying that in your face...and Mathew laughed, I would say my jokes are aging well” y/n walked over greeting everyone properly. Barzal was the last one and kiss she left too close to his mouth wasn’t unnoticed by Anthony.

“Wanna sit with me?” He asked still holding her by the hand. All the available surfaces to sit already occupied.

“You mean to say ‘sit on you’?!”

Isabela that was sitting closer to Mat laughed out loud, “You guys are so obvious…”

“Are you drunk?” y/n replied back trying to sound nonchalant and sitting on Mat’s tights.

His hands found its way on her waist and she was a bit impressed at how comfortable it felt to be that close. He was wearing his cargo pants and a grey sweatshirt, hair an aesthetic mess at the top of his head and lips glowing from his beer.

It was short before Kayla went back to her story and y/n start sipping her wine.

Mat’s hand would travel up and down her waistline under the soft blouse she was wearing and eventually her left hand found his neck hair. It seemed natural, almost as if the exchange of physical affection were something they did every day, and considering their friends were not chirping or making a huge deal out of the situation it seemed even more common.

“Are you driving home?” y/n asked when Mat finished his second beer bottle and she was still on her first wine glass.

He turned to look at her, a slightly confused and curious frown on his face.

“You’re drinking...I know you handle your alcohol just fine, but drink and drive it’s no good” she explains being more detailed than usual.

Barzal chuckles before pressing a kiss in her cheekbone, “You look cute when you’re worried.”

“It’s not-” she starts but the look on his face says it all, he already knew. He had her figured out so easily sometimes it was scary. “I just wanna sleep in peace knowing all my friends are fine… I care about you.”

“You wouldn’t have this problem if you sleep with me tonight.”

And indeed, that was the first night they spent together and it was far to be the last.

Usually, she would be gonna by the sunrise, but this time y/n was exhausted with work and school and having to deal with her family constantly asking about plans they had for her, besides the physical weariness of a whole sex night with Mat. That morning she woke up not to a silent house, but to a shirtless Mat cooking breakfast while blasting her playlist of favorite songs.

“Normally I woke up without feeling like it, but Frank Ocean is playing and you’re doing pancakes...although I’m not really sure about how the food is going to turn out” y/n walked in the kitchen catching Mathew’s attention.

“Good morning to you too” he mocked her, glancing at his oversized shirt that hung her body in a baggy way but still so beautiful.

“You need help there?” she asked going to the water bottle sitting on the counter.

“This is the last pancake, everything’s ready” he walked away from the stove just to wrap one arm around y/n’s middle.

She thought to herself that Mat was the whole package, he knew her so well, he even put effort into cooking in the mornings they spent together -which were few, but still- and he was a great listener, although he liked to talk just as much. He was funny and hot, and he could do both so easily it was painful sometimes. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she kept to herself and left their silence to hug their bodies together. His face resting on the crook of her neck and her hands brushing his long locks.

As soon as the song switched to Lost, y/n’s lips left a loud gasp. Mat would be surprised or confused, but it wasn’t his first time seeing her enjoy her favorites Frank Ocean songs, some he knew the entire lyrics. It was funny to see her wildly dancing and singing as if the world would end anytime soon. And it was those same eyes that made him leave breakfast for good and join her private show. They spent almost thirty minutes stuck on the dance-sing-perform-y/n’s-favorites.

These were the moments where they would be more friends than ever. Sharing the intimacy of the voice of each other and the awkward dance moves, getting to know the songs’ preference, and almost getting a noisy complaint by the neighbors.

And so when Mat started to miss her in the mornings and wish her by his side at night he realized that the intimacy of the moments they spent together could fit as a relationship intimacy as well. Y/n was so easy to be around and she would always have her own way of seeing random everyday things. She liked to go straight to the point too, she hated to lie and hated to left people read one thing when she was trying to say another. That’s why when they started to hookup she told Mathew she wasn’t looking for a lover, she liked him for sure, but being in the years of glory and living in New York wasn’t something she wanted to leave for a relationship.

After almost four months going on like they used to, Mat thought maybe y/n changed her mind. Maybe she liked him as much as he liked her.

And she was point-blank when Barzal brought the subject, “I like you a lot, but I love my freedom.” She didn’t try to put much into it, telling him about her problems would only make him built hope, and she knew that maybe by the time she was fine with the idea of a serious relationship she could be in love with someone else or even he could be. Y/n liked Mathew indeed and that’s why she left him.

Keep it up would only hurt him.

And so they said their goodbyes without a huge fight, but the silence still hurt just as much.

Mat shifted his focus to the season that was about to start, the travel around and games non-stop would take his mind away from how complicated feelings could be sometimes. Y/n, on the other hand, dived into work and school, however, still gets herself wondering about Barzal and how things would turn out if she said yes to his proposition. She missed him in the simple tasks of the day and had to constantly remind that they were not texting each other anymore and no, he definitely did not want to know about the funny dog that ran to her at the park.

Nevertheless, they had the same group of friends and when the season ended and so did midterms, it was crystal clear that they would need to face each other again.

It was a Friday night, just like the first time they spent the night together, and she had an awful day at work, still, Kayle was able to drag her to Tito’s apartment where the small group where reunited. This time it was not one of her best friend random celebrations, it was actually because they spent too long without meeting.

When they finally reached Anthony’s floor y/n still had no idea how she would talk with Mat. She was nervous. They went from 2 a.m calls to zero communication and the lack of it was the reason why she had no idea how he was feeling, if he was doing fine, if he hated her, if he was ok with keeping the friendship etc.

Everyone was in the living room surrounded by bottles and snacks while a random pop song was playing on the tv. He was the first face she searched for but was nowhere to be found, and so y/n settled for greeting each of her friends with a warm and tight hug.

Except for Tito, he was the last one on the sofa line, “where’s my wine, Beau?”

“Kitchen counter” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Alright, now I can give you a hug” y/n joked before lowering herself and draping her arms around Anthony’s shoulders.

“Bring me another water bottle too, please” Joe requested when she was making her way towards the other room.

The hardwood floor felt cold against her feet and she enjoyed the feeling, trying to switch her thoughts to something other than why Mathew wasn’t there. But before she was able to, she reached the kitchen and there he was sitting on the stool while working in one of his drinks.

It was like the cold from her feet reached her whole body suddenly and she was nervous again.

Mathew made y/n nervous.

It was new to her and she was torn between trying to figure out more about the unknown feeling or ignoring it by shoving it down her pocket.

“Hey!” she tried to sound cheerful, but only got a nod as the response.

Y/n couldn’t read him with his eyes away from her, but he seemed a little out of tune. His hair the usual aesthetic mess at the top of his head and his so friendly white sweatshirt.

She walked over to the freezer reaching the water bottle Joe asked for and then going for the glasses and pouring her so loved wine.

“For a moment when I walked in and didn’t saw my wine at the coffee table, I thought Tito had forgotten about me” her remark did not bother Mathew that kept working with the lemon and vodka in front of him. The pang on her heart now so much vivid. Maybe he hated her indeed, maybe he was heartbroken after everything they went through. And she couldn’t help but finally let some kind of guilty sink at the top of her stomach. “Can I see you again and not feel bad about it?”

The thirty seconds of silence were filled with Mat’s breath since y/n was holding hers.

“What do you mean?” Mat sounded genuinely confused.

“I mean you ignoring me...I never intended to hurt you, you know?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just out of the area today, my sleep schedule is all fucked up and I’ve been a little grumpy lately, there’s nothing to do with you.”

She wanted to ask how he was doing, if he were hurt when things didn’t go as planned, she even wished to ask about hockey so he would smile bright and big and keep talking for the next two hours. But instead, she took the wine glass and water bottle, making her away to the living room while holding her heart in her hands too.

Joe started a conversation about vacation and so it was the main topic for two hours straight, and even though Mat knew a lot about the subject he kept his mouth shut, mainly just listening to everyone while sipping his drink. It was unusual considering Barzal was usually the one who couldn’t shut up, you would always hear him on the friends’ get-together either his loud voice or his laugh.

Y/n found herself looking at Mat right across her, but she was still able to miss him, cause it didn’t felt like he was there. He was far away in all meanings.

“There’s something I can do to help?” y/n asked while walking to sit beside Mat in the bed they were, certainly, going to share that night, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to make you feel better, I guess you know by now that it wasn’t your fault.”

Mat was moping since he got home, the islanders had lost and the cherry to the cake was the fact that they lost a home game, and y/n was by his side time enough to know that he absolutely hated to lose this way, but she wasn’t time enough to know how she was supposed to deal with it. She wasn’t in the mood for sex and he sure wasn’t too, however she couldn’t stand the pouty lips and the moody Mat, it gave her heart a little pain.

“You don’t need to say anything” he mumbled underneath the covers.

“But I want to. I care about you, Mathew.” she insisted. “What can I do?”

Mat had this soft smile in the corner of his lips watching y/n sitting by his side and looking at him as if he was the most important thing to her at that moment. ‘I care about you’ wasn’t an ‘I love you’, but it meant something deep and they both knew it.

“You can just lay with me.” He gave up scooting to the side and opening his arms for her to lay on top of him. “And stay the night.”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” y/n’s lips found Mat’s in a slow and sweet kiss that last only some seconds before her face was on the crook of his neck.

Everyone was too caught up on the conversation to notice y/n walk to the balcony and sit in one of the big cold chairs, everyone except Mat and it didn’t take long for him to grab a blanket and follow. He knew she was barefoot and she usually was cold at night. Mat knew a lot of things he never thought he would when they first started going out. Yes, he was looking for a lover, and yes he wished with all his willpower to be y/n, but she left him dazed, living each day by its time - as it’s supposed to be -. Maybe that was the reason why in the middle of it all he didn’t stop too much to think about how things were turning in an unknown road...and when he did, it took them to the mess they were living.

Barzal said nothing as he dropped the blanket around y/n’s body and lowered himself to sit by her side.

“Thank you,” she mumbled a bit dizzy.

“No need to thank me, I just still care about you, that’s all.” His voice was low but firm. He didn’t sound spiteful, it was as if he was letting himself to be soft after every solid thing that hit both of them.

And y/n took the time to process that information.

Mat still care!!!, her insides screaming in pure joy and confusion, and she felt as unsteady as ever. All the ‘what if’s’ making room inside her thoughts. But ‘What if he still cares, but don’t want anything?' ‘What if things don’t work out?’

“I liked when you cared about me too…” Mat voiced taking y/n’s silence as an answer itself. .

“Mat, I’m just…” she thought for some seconds more, her head still bubbling with doubts. “I still care about you.”

His head was still low, fingers playing with a random bracelet, he was deep in his thoughts just as y/n.

“I wasn’t ready to commit, I have so much shit going on and it’s a whole package. A relationship is different from how we were working before. It demands a lot more…I also needed these months to think again and again about it.” She ranted while staring at the building in front of them. “But I still do. I still care about you.”

“I wanna give it a try, the whole package, and everything. I like you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice drowned by the noise of the city, but she was still able to hear him, the soft tone, the truth underneath each word. “Just text me and let me know when you’re ready.”

She nodded while they exchanged a meaningful look. Truth dripping from each other’s eyes along with affection and a new kind of feeling.

They sat there in silence for some minutes, just listening to the city’s noise and feeling the cold air hit their faces before y/n took her phone typing a simple message and sending it to Mat. He looked at her, a hint of amusement and happiness, and she shook her head yes.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #ny isles #nhl imagine #fic request #nhl fanfic #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #hockey imagine #latina!reader #black!reader #new york islanders #i lowkey hate this #but i just did it anyway #there are some good parts tho #so yes #bye #night post #mels writing

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killmongerkink · 5 years ago

Text

Eatin’ Good

Summary: A birthday surprise for the birthday boy.

Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens X Black!Reader

Warning: fluff, domestic!Erik (???), lightlightlight smut.

Length: 1k.

BTW: this has been collecting dust in my drafts for a lil min, but i wanted to get bcd p.2 out first before anything else. hope you enjoy and sorry for any typos! & let’s pray this gif doesn’t get my page in trouble lol.

MASTERLIST

Waffles. Check. Biscuits. Check. Eggs. Check. Bacon. Check. Sausage. Check. Cake. Double Check.

Smiling to yourself, you looked at the time illuminating the stove clock before walking over to the table and setting his plate down. Your heels seemed to click louder than usual against the floor, your steps careful and precise in order to not scratch the wood that Erik was so adamant about having when you guys were house-hunting.

It was his birthday and although you had the luxury of taking off, Erik’s line of work didn’t permit it. As a paramedic, his schedule was pretty straight forward. A 24 hour shift, followed by 48 hours off. He had promised that you both would celebrate tomorrow, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t do a little something for him on his actual birthday.

You heard him shuffling around before he was jogging down the steps, the sound of his new shoes (that took you an entire month to find might you add) that you gifted him early making you take a deep breath before rushing to stand by the chair he usually occupied by the table.

“Happy Birthday baby.”

His head jerked towards your voice and he stared at you for a moment, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking. A scarf/bonnet and one of his t-shirts was your usual morning attire, but with your braid out already fluffed and lingerie providing little to no coverage, you could tell that he was taken back.

“I know I don’t usually have time to make you breakfast in the morning so ... surprise?” You trailed off, swaying a bit in your shoes.

“Come here for a second.” He threw his jacket and backpack over the banister, head tilting to the side. “C'mere” He repeated and beckoned you over with his hand when you didn’t move.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped around the chair and walked slowly towards him, stopping before reaching the short hallway. Erik always said that he didn’t care what you wore, but he was a man. You were pretty sure that he wouldn’t actually be opposed to a sexy fit if you donned one and you were right. He peered at you closely. Your big hair, big titties, big hips and big thighs all exposed for him to see. Your fluffy tummy was slightly hidden by the thin material of the lingerie-styled apron and you crossed your feet, the thin material of your thong now damp. It seemed as though the atmosphere had completely changed in just a few seconds. You twirled around on your heels and spread your feet apart, ass jiggling lightly as you shook your hips from side to side. The sound of the heat turning on was the only noise made in the quiet home, that was until Erik was throwing off his beanie and moving to pull off his shirt.

“Uh-uh.” You turned back around, causing Erik to stop. When he took a step forward, you took one back. “Stoooooop. I’m serious.”

“I'm serious too! Shit. How you expect me to not touch you when you looking like that? Shaking ya ass like that?”

“Sounds like a personal problem. Now come eat.”

You made your way back to the table, heels clicking loudly again before a loud “Bruh!” bounced off the high walls. If he was mad now, he was going to be seething while he was at work because you had no plans of stopping your little teasing session once he got to work.

With a playful eye roll, you pulled out his chair and waited until he was seated to mess with him further. You didn't even bother asking for permission before you threw your leg over him and plopped down in his lap. One hand rested behind his neck, while your other went to work by popping open the syrup and drizzling it over his food. Waffles coated just the way he liked them, your finger caught the remnants of sweetness that dribbled down the side of the bottle and you made a show of circling your index finger with your tongue before sucking on it lightly, releasing with a pop once it was clean. You even went as far as cutting him a piece of the doughy goodness and holding the fork up to his mouth, his eyes set on yours and full lips opening. Light conversation was held between you two and Erik must've thought that you were distracted enough when he tried to by-pass your thong and finger his way between your cheeks.

"Stop being fresh."

After feeding him a few more bites, you left him on his own and got started on his lunchbox. Leftover salmon, rice and asparagus was the main course with a couple protein bars and granola as a light snack. He had been on his healthy tip for the past two weeks and trying to be supportive, you had joined him. That didn't mean you weren't hiding a pint of snickers ice cream behind the frozen fruit bags that were used for smoothies. It took you less than five minutes to pack everything up and just as you were about to grab his coconut water from the fridge, hands were trapping you against the counter and hips were pressing into you.

"I thought I told you to stop being fresh."

He gave you one of his infamous 'i'm not really listening' grunts and peppered kisses along your neck, your hand cupping his cheek before your other one went racing between your thighs, catching his a bit too late.

"Erik, you gotta finish eating."

"Whatchu think I'm trying to do?"

As much as you were trying to play it off, you really did want him to touch you and Erik knew that. He used his middle and ring finger to rub the front of your thong roughly, the force he was using making you back up against him, and you didn't dare stop him when he slipped his thick digits past the material. You felt him pause and smirked, turning to look back at him. A surprised curse left his lips as he looked back at you, a small grin forming as he started rubbing his fingers against your smooth skin. It seemed as though all the tears you shed on the message table was worth it.

"Oh yeah, I'm bout to be eatin' good tonight."

"Please, you were gonna eat whatever I gave you."

"Shit, you right ... you right."

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onyxiana-is-obsessed · 5 years ago

Note

Ello! I dont know where to request since i'm stupid but i usually use this place to request! I saw those two 1A scenarios/drabbles and since i loved them, can you please make another 1a (with the characters Bakugou/Tokoyami/Mina/Todoroki and Aizawa plus Monoma) scenario/drabble with fem!reader where Monoma keeps pranking her and one time it got to reader and almost killed him, but BTMTA (the characters) stop her and calmed her down and Monoma got scolded! ❤️❤️ Love your writing btw 😌

Hiya lovely! You’re not stupid, this is exactly where you send requests! I’m glad you liked them and I really hope you liked this one! Ugh, I love a sassy reader at times xD Thank you so much!! Btw, I aged them up here, so they’re all 3rd years because Baku needs work before he’d ever be this friendly lmao.

Length: 1.9k words

Warnings: Mild swearing

Your Name: (y/f/n)

Quirk: (y/q) - preferably one that increases strength and speed.

Age: 17

“Good morning, (n/n),” Tokoyami greeted as (f/n) walked towards him with a bright smile.

“Morning, Fumi! Sleep well?” She inquired, making him nod. She walked around to her desk and pulled her chair out.

“I did, yourself?”

“Eh, could’ve been better. You know-” As she went to sit, the legs of the chair broke, making her squeal as she fell flat on her butt. The loud racket garnered more attention as worried classmates ran to her, including Bakugou and Mina.

“(f/n)!” Todoroki and Tokoyami yelled as they ran to her, making (f/n) groan as they helped her stand.

“What happened?!” Mina exclaimed, her hands landing on (f/n)’s shoulder.

“Th-the legs broke,” (f/n) explained, rubbing her back, “h-how? I thought these were brand new chairs…”

“What happened?” Aizawa’s voice came through as he walked into the classroom and saw the broken chair with a few students gathered around (f/n).

“(f/n) went to go sit, but the chair broke!” Mina explained, turning to her teacher who was now approaching them. His tired eyes gazed at the chair for a moment before he sighed.

“Class B should have extras. They’re next door, go get one.” (f/n) nodded and quickly left her class to get another chair. When she walked into their classroom, she had to embarrassingly explain that she needed to borrow an extra chair due to hers breaking. She did NOT miss Monoma’s pathetic attempt to cover up his laughter.

“Oh, you’re breaking chairs now? What a surprise, class A has no regard for our school’s reputation or supplies.” He muttered as she walked past him.

“Shove it,” (f/n) glared as she quickly grabbed her chair and left the classroom, returning to her own.

Turns out, Monoma had been responsible for her chair breaking. But that’s not where his stupid pranks ended. For example, her project went missing and she had to completely redo an entire week’s worth of work. He changed the locks on her dorm room so she couldn’t get in until Bakugou broke her door down. Let’s not forget the camp incident (heh), he was also the reason all her white clothes turned blue in the wash making her buy a new shirt for her uniform, and he also sent mean texts from HER PHONE to Bakugou, Mina, Todoroki, and Tokoyami. She had a difficult time explaining those texts weren’t her.

Now, it was starting to get too much. There was no way (f/n) could prove what happened was exactly Monoma’s fault. She never caught him in the act nor did he ever outright admit to pulling those pranks. He’d always make sly comments like towards her situation, but those weren’t enough. She had zero proof.

However, (f/n) was 100% sure that Monoma was behind all of these dumbass pranks and she was starting to get furious. However… that could wait because…

“OI! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!” (f/n) immediately screamed and covered her eyes as she turned away. She was positive this was the girl’s bathroom.

“S-Suki! I-I’m sorry!” (f/n) ran outside, pulling the door shut behind her. Her eyes flew to the sign next to the bathroom and widened. Girl’s bathroom? She backed up, looking around the hall and realized the girl’s bathroom was on the other side. Someone switched the signs?

She frowned and rubbed her eyes. She had been training with Todoroki and Mina all day, so she was a bit tired. She hadn’t even noticed she was on the wrong side of the building. Monoma came all the way to their DORMS to mess with her? Well… it wasn’t the first time. Her frown quickly melted into a look of anger.

“Monoma, I’m gonna kick your ass. Prank me one more time…” She muttered to no one in particular.

~**~

“Hey, (n/n)!” Mina chirped, slinging her arm around (f/n)’s shoulder. (f/n) smiled at her and gave her a side hug.

“Hello, Mina! Sleep well, I take it?”

“Maaaybe! Hey! Wanna go out for dinner tonight? Fumi and Sho are coming too! Not so sure about Suki.”

“Sure! Sounds fun, I’ll talk to Suki and see what he says.”

“Gosh, I’m jealous of that little soft spot he has for you.” Mina pouted. “But then again! A cutie like you probably gets all the dudes, huh?” (f/n) laughed and moved away from Mina, who’d started tickling her sides.

“You’d be surprised. By the way, you’re early today.”

“Yeah, Kiri woke me up early this morning. So, I decided to get ready instead of laying in bed.” (f/n) squinted at her.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” She teased, making Mina giggle and place her hands on her hips.

“I am Pinky! Or wait, no! Alien Queen! Bow before me mortal!” (f/n) giggled and gave her a little curtsey.

“Hello, your highness. Welcome to the halls of UA! Oh! May I introduce you to sir Peppermint?” Mina turned around and saw Todoroki approaching them with an amused look.

“Hello, your majesty. I am sir Peppermint, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hello! Sir Peppermint! Oh! Who’s that?” Mina feigned innocence and pointed behind (f/n). The (h/c) haired girl turned around and saw Tokoyami and Bakugou approaching them.

“Oh! That’s sir Tsukuyomi and Knight Kacchan.” Bakugou’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

“The hell did you call me?!”

“Ooh! Hello, Knight Kacchan!” Mina greeted making him groan. As much as Bakugou liked to pretend he hated that nickname, deep down… he didn’t. Especially when it came from his… friends.

“What are you idiots doing?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Well Mina here is Alien royalty and thus, must be treated as such.” (f/n) said, matter-of-factly.

“You’re a royal pain in the ass, that’s for sure,” Bakugou responded, making Mina pout and Todoroki laugh a bit.

“We all know you don’t mean it, Kacchan.” Todoroki teased, making Bakugou glare at him.

“Listen here, you half-n-half bastard, I’m go-” Bakugou was interrupted by (f/n), who shrieked when she opened her locker. The second she opened it, her entire uniform was covered in blue paint. Some speckles even landed on her cheeks, mouth, forehead, and hair. Everyone froze as the paint slowly dripped down her now dirty clothes.

They all turned their heads when they heard laughter and saw Monoma doubled over trying to keep his laughter in. (f/n)’s shock turned into a death glare. She clenched her fists, ready to pummel him into the floor.

“I didn’t know you wanted to die today, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Before anyone could do anything, (f/n) sprinted to Monoma and tackled him down, spreading the paint to him as well. He let out a scream as they both collided with the floor, the paint smearing beneath them.

“KICK HIS ASS, (N/N)!” Bakugou encouraged her, however, Todoroki, Tokoyami, and Mina tried to stop her. Knowing he’d just copy her quirk, (f/n) settled for simple hand to hand combat.

Well…

“L-LET G-GO!” Monoma strained as (f/n)’s arm wrapped around his throat in a chokehold. (f/n) ignored him as her arm tightened around his neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he fell on his back, leaning his weight on her. He struggled, trying to stand up but to no avail.

“(f/n), you have to let go!” Todoroki yelled, as he and Tokoyami attempted to pull (f/n)’s arms off of Monoma, but she had a good grip. Todoroki pulled both (f/n) and Monoma up so they would stand. “Bakugou! Help!” The blond rolled his eyes, but complied, coming up behind (f/n) to pull her off. Ideally, he’d let (f/n) beat the shit outta him, but he also didn’t want (f/n) getting in trouble.

All the commotion caused their classmates to pile up at the doorway to watch the fight. Most of them were on (f/n)’s side.

“Goddammit, woman! LET GO!” Bakugou yelled, struggling to pull her off. Monoma was starting to see spots and his vision was getting hazy due to the lack of oxygen. Both Tokoyami and Todoroki noticed, making them pry harder.

“Let go, (f/n)!” Tokoyami yelled as Dark Shadow joined in. He tried to wrap around her, much like he would with Tokoyami, in an attempt to make her loosen her grip.

“NO!” (f/n) yelled back, making Mina’s eyes light up as she got an idea. She quickly ran behind Bakugou, slid her arms around him and tickled (f/n)’s sides. It took a few seconds, but their friend let go, making Todoroki and Tokoyami stand in her way, grabbing her arms and pressing their sides against her as Bakugou held her waist.

(f/n) was a strong fighter and here was proof, 3 fully grown men having to hold her back. Monoma felt his soul leave his body at the sight.

“STOP IT!” Bakugou yelled as she struggled against him.

“Let go of me! Let go of me right now, Kacchan! I’m kicking his ass!” Monoma was currently leaning against the lockers trying to catch his breath as he watched the furious girl attempt to… kill him?! She wanted to kill him! She was trying to choke him to death!

“ENOUGH!” Everyone froze at the booming voice and (f/n) shrank against Bakugou when she saw her teacher standing there with his hair and scarf floating. Her hands reached out to grab Tokoyami and Todoroki’s arms. His red eyes glared at the group demanding answers.

“She tried to kill me!” Monoma yelled, holding his throat. (f/n)’s eyes widened and shot to Aizawa.

“This jerk’s been pranking me for the last three weeks! Everything that’s gone wrong is his fault!”

“You have no proof of that!” Monoma argued, glaring at her.

“No pro- you’re always laughing at me and making snide comments! I know for a fact it’s you, asshole! Don’t even act like your innocent!”

“I am innocent, asshole!” (f/n) shoved Bakugou off and slipped in between Todoroki and Tokoyami, running towards Monoma when Aizawa’s scarf quickly wrapped around her.

“Out of your entire class, you’re the only one who hates us, dumbass!” (f/n) retaliated as she struggled against her teacher’s bindings. “Let me fight him, Mr. Aizawa! LET ME KICK HIS ASS!”

“That’s enough!” Aizawa interrupted their petty squabbling as he approached them. His eyes stopped glowing and his hair fell down. (f/n) was still wrapped around in his scarf but was no longer struggling. “Have you been pranking (l/n) this whole time?” Aizawa asked the blond.

“NO!” The hallway was so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. Aizawa glared at Monoma as he grabbed his arm and made him stand up.

“You’re lying.” The scarf loosened around (f/n) and fell off, returning to Aizawa as he looked at the students. Bakugou, Todoroki, Monoma, (f/n), and Tokoyami- not to mention his scarf- were covered in the blue paint. “Go clean yourselves up and come back, we’ll discuss your punishment for starting the fight later, (l/n). For now, I’ll be handling this one.” With that, Aizawa took Monoma away leaving everyone in awkward silence.

Until Kaminari broke it.

“Damn, (n/n)! You really kicked his ass! That was awesome!”

“I think you’re rubbing off on her,” Tokoyami said, looking at Bakugou who smirked proudly.

“And the problem with that is?”

“We’ll have another you to deal with.” Todoroki responded, flatly.

“What’s wrong with me, IcyHot?!”

“You guys are awesome!” Mina giggled, wrapping her arms around both Bakugou and Todoroki. “(f/n)! Get in here! You too, Fumi!”

“I’ll get the paint over you,” (f/n) muttered, looking down at herself.

“Either you come here or I’ll give you a bear hug.”

“You just want to go back to your room so you can lay in bed.” (f/n) argued, as she and Fumi joined the little group hug.

“Maaaybe!”

BONUS:

Later that day, Aizawa had met up with (f/n) and explained that her punishment was going to be detention for 3 days, as well as cleaning up the dorms. Although Monoma got something similar, it was worse.

However, whenever their classes were paired up for sparring matches or mock fights, Aizawa always did his best to pair (f/n) against Monoma, so she could teach him a lesson. Properly.

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retro-rezz-the-est · 5 years ago

Text

Brat Tamer (Roman Reigns/Reader smut)

Summary: The reader’s not a wrestler, but she’s being intentionally bratty bc Ro doesn’t come back home to her. Ro decides to take things in his own hands when she takes her brattiness and her teasing too far.

Word Count: 6,510

Warnings: voyeurism, a small tiny large ass bit of possession/possessive behavior, Roman being an absolute beast who I want to wreck me into oblivion, mutual masturbation and I believe that’s it??? Forgive me if I’m wrong.

(A/N: This was supposed to be for reaching 600 followers, but I’m re-purposing it so it’s now @writing-reigns’s birthday gift! To my lovely talented amazing fantastic beautiful sassy big sister: thank you. You’re an absolute delight to be close to and I hope you know how much I love you. Happy birthday, darling!)

(A/N #2: Bracket texts are Roman’s btw lol)

You never did like it when he was away for so long.

In fact, you hated it.

You knew this was a part of his job: the leaving for long periods of time, the sparse days that he spent with you when he was home with you, the repeated sadness of seeing him leave. But, you knew that he loved you and you loved him, so you supported him anyway.

It would always be months before you saw him again, all smiling and warm with him in your arms. Video calls and late night chats on the phone weren’t enough for you. You needed him here and at home with you.

You longed for his touch, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin at night when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. But now, his side of the bed was empty, and his babygirl would curl herself around his pillows to imitate the feeling of him against her.

You missed the way his hair would flop forward into his face and his constant struggle with trying to push it away, you laughing every single time because it was just too damn cute. Just thinking about all the little things he did just brought a smile to your face.

But, you also missed the more…sensual parts of your relationship.

He would always do things to you that none of your previous lovers ever did, and just thinking of them sent excited shivers down your spine. You missed the way his hands felt on your skin, pulling at your hair and tugging at your nipples as he too you with wild abandon and left you satisfied for hours.

You missed the feeling of his mouth on yours and his body pressed against you as he made love to you and made you cum more times than you could ever count on one hand. You missed the way he'd wrap a hand around your throat and hold you down on the bed as he pounded you from behind, banging the headboard against your bedroom wall as he called you his good slut over and over again.

He always had a way of making you feel like the most pampered princess in the world and the most dirty, naughty brat to ever exist and that was just perfect. You missed the sting of the marks from his hands on your ass whenever you misbehaved; doing it to yourself just never felt right at all.

You pined for his hands groping your slick breasts as he took you against the wall in your shower right after he got home from a long day at the gym, and you craved the feeling of him burying his tongue in your pussy whenever he woke up early on weekends.

All in all, you just…fuck, you needed him.

Which is why it hurt so much when he rang you up that night right as you were about to leave.

“Wait, what?! What do you mean you can’t come home yet?!”

“I mean, I can’t come home because I’m still on the road, babygirl,” Roman told you again, him sounding frustrated over the phone. You could hear the rumble of the bus he was on in the background, and the sound of the other Superstars chatting away right after.

“Ro, I’ve been planning this dinner for weeks! You said we’d go out when you got back, and that was supposed to be today!”

He was supposed to come home that Saturday afternoon, with his princess welcoming him at the door as he finally got back from the European leg of the company’s tour. It would’ve been your birthday the day he shou;d’ve been back and when you told him, he had promised to take you out for a nice dinner and left it to you to plan out the details.

You both were supposed to have fun, celebrate him coming back from the latest leg of the tour and you surviving another year on this planet, and come back to your apartment to reconnect after months of being away from each other.

It was supposed to be perfect.

But it wasn’t and he wasn’t here, and you were left without your man, fully dressed in the skin tight red sleeveless number he always loved, hair and makeup done with your heels on only to be left alone at your door.

“You can’t just cancel on tonight because of your stupid fucking job!”

You kicked off your heels and stormed into the living room, throwing your purse on the kitchen counter and stomping over to the couch. You glared out into nothing, hoping that he could feel the weight of your stare through the phone. “I literally got all dressed up for you to just ghost on me!”

“You watch your tone with me, babygirl,” Roman warned, venom seething from his mouth. “I’m sorry that I can’t just hop off this fucking bus, grab my bags and stow away on a plane for you and get there in five minutes! You said you supported me going away when we started dating, so support me.”

You’re full-on yelling at this point, red in the face and close to tearing his eyes out when he actually gets back. “How can I support you if you do shit like this to me?! You fucking promised-”

“Stop!” he shouted, shutting you up immediately. He never used his dom voice outside of the bedroom before and frankly, it scared you but you weren’t going to let down your front that easily. “Don’t fucking tell me what I promised, babygirl. I said I was sorry and Daddy will make it up to you when he gets back, as long as you stop being a fucking brat about all of this.”

“What-me? Being a fucking brat?! Excuse me, Roman, but I am completely justified in-”

“Babygirl, look,” he sighed, the deepness in his voice fading slowly. “I swear to you that I’ll make this up to you, okay?”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes. Whether they were out of pure anger or sadness, you couldn’t tell. “B-But Daddy-”

“No buts, princess. I’ll see you when I get home. We’re about to reach the hotel, and I’m really fucking tired. This conversation is over.”

And with that, he hung up, the dial tone beeping in your ear before you turnt your phone off.

You managed to call the restaurant and cancel your reservation, take off your dress and your makeup and remove your jewelry without throwing your phone across the hall or punching a hole through your bedroom door. Slipping on one of Ro’s old merch tees, you climbed into bed and sniffled, crushing his pillow against your chest and sighing angrily. You contemplated between tearing your hair out before you went to bed that night or just screaming into the pillow. So, you chose the latter.

“How dare he?!” you yelled. “Fucking hypocrite saying that he doesn’t break his promises, and yet goes and breaks one himself! And he called me a brat for being angry? The audacity!”

All he had to do was give you a warning beforehand, a message or anything but nothing! Nothing from him because he put so much attention on his fucking work that he never even thought about you at all!

You flopped onto your back and kicked the blankets away, grumbling and staring into the dark void that was your ceiling for what seemed like hours until an idea popped into your head. You grinned deviously as you began to weave the idea into a full-fledged plan and you rubbed your hands together maniacally.

If he wants a brat, fine. I’ll give him a brat. Let’s see how much good that does him in the long run.

Game on, Daddy, you thought as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a grin slowly making its way across your lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in the hotel gym with a few of the other Smackdown Superstars when you had texted him that morning. Setting down the weights he was lifting, he paused his music and wiped the sweat from his brow. Just seeing your name light up his phone made him smile a little, even if he did insight the argument the two of you had a few days ago.

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

morning Daddy 😚😚

[Gmorning princess. How've you been?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

just missing u, that's all 🥺

[You know I'll be home in a few days. We've been over this]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i know, but i can't help it. i miss having u here to take care of me 😢💙. ur babygirl's pussy is so wet rn & she needs her Daddy to come take care of her 🥺

[I'll take care of you and all your needs when I get back, just how you like it ;)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

you better, or i may have to do it all by myself 😏😏😏

Roman looked down at his phone with wide eyes, sensing that you had something up your sleeve.

[Babygirl, what are you planning to do?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

nothinggggg 👀😏

[Don't lie to me now, princess]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

okay fine, you're no fun >:P. i'm rubbing my clit thru my panties rn. they're

the ones u got for me for my birthday, and they're *soooo* soaked rn 💦💦

i'm all wet and aching and needy bc i miss u, Daddy 🥺

He could feel his eyes getting darker by the second and quickly got up, saying his goodbyes to everyone in the gym before grabbing his gym bag and speed walking through the door. He made his way to the elevator and felt his phone vibrate again, cursing to himself as the doors opened and he leaned against the back wall.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

fuuck Daddy it feels so good but it doesn't feel the same

i miss your big fingers, Daddy. mine are too small and yours make me

feel the best 😻

[Princess, did I tell you that you could touch yourself?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no???

[Take your fingers away, princess. I didn’t give you permission]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no

[What did you say?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i said no 😈😊

fuck, my pussy is so wet for you, Ro. i’m sliding my fingers thru my folds and they’re so wet for you 😩

i have to text with one hand bc lefty’s busy with my slick hole rn

[You better stop teasing me like this or else]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

or else what? you’ll punish me? i already have two fingers in me, about to be three

She’s really testing me today, isn’t she? Roman thought as the elevator doors dinged and opened on his floor. He quickly walked to his room, placing the keycard in the door and swinging it open. Throwing his gym bag somewhere near his suitcase, he walked outside onto the balcony and swiped a hand over his face, imagining you in one of his merch tees with your legs spread and your folds wet and swollen for him.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i can’t hit my spot like you do, Daddy. you always finger-fuck me so good

fuck, i feel like i’m gonna cum already from this 😩💦

[Babygirl, I said no]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

too late, Daddy. i’m pushing in my third finger ;3

it feels so damn good Daddy. i can’t wait until you get back anymore

His eyes got dark and clouded over with lust as he felt his cock grow in his gym shorts. Fuck, what is she doing to me?

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i’m rubbing my clit with my thumb now. dragging my nail across it too

i’m picturing it as your teeth bc you love to use them when you go down on me 🥺

[I said to fucking stop already. Listen to me, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

Hmmmm….how about…no 😋

i’m about to cum Ro. gonna squirt all over my fingers for you 💦

Is she really going to…? No, she wouldn’t disobey me like that, would she?

[(Y/n), you better not or else you’ll regret it when I get back]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

shit, i’m cumming Daddy fuuuuck

His mind is immediately bombarded with the vision of you soaking your bed, your juices flowing from you and staining your sheets. He heads back inside, closing the balcony door before throwing his phone on the bed and sitting down himself.

[You done having your fun, princess?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

mmhm ^^

i came so hard for you, Ro. you wanna see?

He gets a picture right after, opening it to see your inner thighs glistening with your juices, your hand forming a peace sign as your digits are coated with your cum. Growling deeply, he closes his texts and moves to call you, the phone seeming to ring endlessly in his hand before going straight to voicemail.

“Hello person calling my phone, you’ve unfortunately reached the phone of (Y/n). Someone must’ve pranked you or something, because this is obviously the wrong number. But, if you meant to call this number, I’m clearly busy with something important so if you need me, leave a messa-”

Roman hung up quickly, throwing the device next to him and sighing, flopping onto the sheets and staring at the ceiling defeatedly. The concentrated throbbing of the hard-on in his gym shorts made him angry. You were testing him, teasing him, and he was buying into it big time. The phone buzzed next to him suddenly, making him grab at it and lean his head up.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

gotta go, Daddy. i’m gonna go take a nap. byeeee 😚💗

[You’re really gonna do this to me?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

yep ^^. Talk to you soon 😘

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For almost a full week now, he’s had to deal with the torture you put him through, showing up to press talks and photoshoots and working out non-stop with a constant hard-on from the things you’ve been sending him. For a full week, the sexts became an almost daily thing as you recounted all of the things you were doing to yourself behind his back: touching yourself constantly in the bed you shared, grinding against his pillows and taking selfies with only his shirts on, sending him pictures of you in your newest dresses.

The “home movies” you sent him were equally as troubling, showing him exactly how well off you were without him there to take care of you and please you by teasing him with the various vibrators and dildos that you had in your chest.

You even had the nerve to call him during a meeting with Stephanie and tell him that you were wearing the vibrating panties he bought you last year for your birthday while you were out with friends, causing him to shoot up in his chair and try to hide his erection.

And for a full week, he’s been pent up with sexual energy, counting down the days and waiting for when he can finally come home to you and punish you for what you’ve been doing to him.

But, they’ve also been dragging on for what seemed like an eternity. So when he pulled up to the arena that Friday night, Roman was more than a little pissed off. You tagged him in a selfie you took on Instagram of you in a fitted black and turquoise lace bodysuit with a black lace collar, posting that you “had a surprise waiting for a special when they finally gets back to you”.

He felt a hot streak of possessiveness run clean through his system when he shut off his phone, and his fingers twitched with the need to let everyone know that you were his as he read through the comments. But he persisted, gripping the steering wheel of his rental tightly before getting out with a plan in mind. Grabbing his bag from the trunk, he pushed the doors open and walked inside with a grimace on his face as he tried to maneuver around the various stage crew and other wrestlers that littered the hallways.

Roman was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t seem to acknowledge bumping into one Mustafa Ali and walking straight through the man. He fell back with a yell, rubbing his shoulder as the Samoan continued on his way with his suitcase rolling behind him.

Rising to his feet, Mustafa brushed himself off before chasing after the other man, cupping his hands over his mouth to yell over the countless voices around him. “Hey, Roman! Hold up, man!”

Oh fuck, he groaned internally as Ali pulled up beside him, a smile on his face as he tried to match Roman’s pace. “So, how you been, buddy? It’s been a minute since we last talked, huh?”

Roman grunted, brows furrowed as he ignored him. His phone buzzed in his pocket again - most likely another message from you - and his mind immediately went back to you, thinking about how delicious you looked in that bodysuit.

She’s gonna fuckin’ get it when I get to the locker room, he thought, his hold on the bag’s handle tightening as Mustafa continued to try and speak with him.

“Ok, not much of a talker today. That’s fine. I just wanted to discuss our strategy for our match tonight. You know, for our tag match against Ziggler and Corbin? I was thinking that maybe you come out first and give ‘em the verbal one-two hit before I come out since they don’t know I’m your partner yet, but we could change that if-”

“It’s fine the way it is,” Roman replied, moving some stray hairs from his face before making a left towards the locker room and finding the one with his name on it. Before opening the door, he turned around to see the smaller man looking back at him holding his thumbs up and smiling.

He entered the locker room and shut the door, his mood somewhat lightening as he rolled his bag into the corner. Shoving his hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened the newest message from you.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

(photo attached)

bought another one for you, Ro 💜💜

Roman walked over to the bench and sat down, taking his hair out of the messy bun he put it in earlier with his free hand and sighing as he felt the crotch of his jeans grow tight. There you were, spread out on the couch on your back wearing a lavender keyhole lace teddy with one of your legs bent towards the camera. You were smiling back into it and biting your lip, which made him groan and tug his hair a little as he ran his hand through it.

[You’re really milking this teasing thing, aren’t you?]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Why yes I am. This is why you don’t lie to me, Daddy

[Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it later, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Can’t wait for it ^3^

He smirked deviously when he read that, loving how coy and innocent you sounded but knowing how wet you became just from him sending that. He did secretly love this game you were playing with him, riling him up with texts and pictures and videos, but as your Daddy he had to put you in your place. You had to know who was really in charge.

Standing and shoving his phone back into his pocket, he walked back to the door to unlocked it, only to hear the sound of someone suddenly knocking on the other side. He opened it to find a stagehand standing in front of him with a clipboard.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Reigns?” she started, tapping her fingers nervously on the board, “I know this is kinda sudden and we only have, like, an hour and a half until the show starts, but the big man and some of the other guys upstairs switched around some of the matches on the card for tonight’s show.”

“And? What does that have to do with me?”

“Your tag match was one of the ones moved and, well….it was moved to the beginning of the night. Like, right after Baron’s segment. So, you’ve got to start getting geared up since some of the people in the film crew wanna start shooting some of your pre-show promos in a bit.”

She then turned on her heel and scampered away, reaching in her back pocket for a pen and clicking it to scribble something down.

He sighed, closing the door as he looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed that he only had a few minutes before someone else came knocking. Roman walked over to his suitcase and turned it over on its side to open it as he sighed.

Guess I’ll deal with you later, babygirl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowd was roaring in his ears and he was loving all that energy, soaking it up like a sponge as he knew you were tuning in to watch him fight. He loved knowing that you could see the Big Dog in his natural habitat, watching him kick the crap out of anyone he was put in front of and feeling the apex of your thighs tingle from how turned on you were becoming.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins throughout the entirety of the match, from when he slapped the taste out of Corbin’s mouth before Mustafa made his presence known to when he finally pinned Ziggler after hitting him with a third Spear during the nearly 15 minute long tag match.

Seeing “King” Corbin pull his new lackey from the ring and scamper to the back while holding him by his arms brought a quick smile to his face as he yelled “You can’t handle all this!” and the ref raised their arms in victory.

“I’ll see you around, okay? You were awesome out there!”

“You too, Ali,” Roman said smiling, panting slightly as the duo made their way through the curtain. Promising to check in on him some time later on, the two pounded fists and shared a brief hug before Ali began limping to the back with one of the medical personnel in tow, leaving Roman by himself.

“Now,” he told himself, smile dropping and eyes narrowing as he tore his way through the halls to get to his locker room, “time to take care of business.”

He immediately locked the door when he got inside, ripping his tactical vest off and throwing it into one of the open lockers before going over to his bag and unplugging his phone from the wall next to it.

His chest was shiny with sweat underneath the fluorescents, so he grabbed a towel that one of the stagehands left on the bench inside to wipe himself down. Drying off his hair with one hand, he used the other to unlock his phone and video call you, with you instantly picking up after only two rings.

“Hi, baby! You were so great out there during your match tonight! That was probably one of your best this ye-”

Your voice died down when you saw the look he was giving you: eyes holding yours in a steely gaze, neck vein starting to pop out a bit and a clear glint of mischief running across his entire face, but he disguised it all with a smirk. It sent shivers down your spine to know that secretly, you were the one to do this to him, to get him like this.

“How’s Daddy’s favorite little tease doing?”

“A tease? Me?” you feigned shock, mouth dropping open as you placed your hand on your chest. “Why would I ever have the gall to tease you in any way? I’m a good girl, remember?”

Roman’s face deadpanned and you had to stifle a giggle from bursting. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, (Y/n). You’re not slick, and your Daddy isn’t a dumbass.”

His eyes flowed down to your chest, and how you were starting to angle the phone to show him more of what you were wearing. He chuckled at your latest attempt to get him riled up but unluckily for you, he was filled to the brim with pent-up energy and was all too ready to take it out on you.

You pursed your lips and blew a kiss to him as you crossed your legs on the bed. What seemed like miles of red mesh ran up your legs to your upper thighs and was held up by a frilly garter belt, leading his eyes up your body as the other two pieces of the red lace lingerie set hid all of your goods from his heated gaze.

“You like it? I bought this little number a while back and I was gonna send you a pic of it as a congratulations gift but since you called me, I figured now was as good of a time as any! So, what do you think?”

He could feel the crotch of his ring pants grow tight as you giggled again and stuck your tongue out, dropping the towel next to him as he ran his hand over the newly formed bulge. “I think,” he started, moving towards the bench and sitting down, “that it’d look much better on the bedroom floor. Speaking of which, take it off.”

“Huh?”

“The bra. As much as I love how it frames your perfect breasts, I want it off. Now.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you placed your own phone on your bedside table and angled it against the lamp that stood there before reluctantly reaching around and unsnapping the lacy piece, sighing as the room’s cool air made your nipples perk up. You tossed the discarded garment in the direction of your closet, smiling faintly and awaiting further instruction.

“Now, since you wanted to tease me for over a week with those fucking texts, those videos, those tags on Instagram, now I’m gonna do the same damn thing to you. And this time, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Oh shit was the only thought that ran through your head as you gulped and felt your fingers twitch.

“So, what I want you to do is take out that cute little toy chest you have under your bed-”

“How do you know about that?!”

“-and take out the dildo you got molded for me. You know the one I’m talkin’ about, right?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you muttered under your breath as you stood up, wondering how in the fuck he found out about it and turning around to bend over suggestively and give your man a show. You could hear the jingling of his belt clasp and heard him suck in a breath, smirking to yourself as you pulled out the black box from underneath your bed frame.

For Roman, he loved the view that he was given, loving how the lace and the garter belt framed your ass as you reached into the box to pull out the silicone toy and show it to him. It was shaped and colored to look exactly like his own cock but before he could say anything, you climbed back onto the bed and sat cross-legged with it in your lap. He could see a slight flush dusting your cheeks and he laughed darkly.

You could see him fully now, his arm with his phone in his hand partially outstretched while his other hand held his half-hard cock as he coaxed himself to full hardness. Looking down at the dildo resting on your legs, a shudder went through your body. Although your new toy will never compare to the original, you’re gonna make damn sure that your money is well spent.

He watched as you let out a shaky breath, moving to lay down on our back at the head of the bed and picking up the dildo. You raised it to your lips and suctioned your lips around the head, getting it nice and wet for him before trailing it down your neck and circling it around your breasts and nipples until they were shiny with your spit.

With wide eyes, you looked back into the camera and asked, “What do you want me to do now, Daddy?”

“Cut the innocent crap, babygirl,” he sneered, making you moan softly. “Trail that thing down your stomach and run it over those pretty panties you bought.”

You answer him with a “Yes, Daddy” before doing as he told you, dragging the dildo down over your stomach and circling your belly button with it before running the head over your pelvis and throwing your head back with a moan.

It felt good running it over your skin like that, almost as good as if Roman was actually there with you and teasing you himself, but you’d never say that to him outright. Raising your hips to meet it, you slid the toy’s shaft in-between your legs and ran it over the thin strip of fabric that kept it away from your lower lips. You could already feel how wet you were becoming, seeing as after a few seconds of this that the dildo was faintly glistening with your juices when you held it up.

“Babygirl, don’t you fucking stop until I tell you to,” he growled over the line, making you jump out of your own little fantasy world. He was angling his phone downwards towards his hard-on, showing you how he’s already leaking cum onto his fingers as he touched himself at your expense. “Keep rubbing that dildo over that wet little pussy of mine.”

You spent the next few minutes running the toy over yourself, grinding it against your clit and moaning but taking it away when you got too close to cumming as to prolong what you had going on. The arch in your back became more prominent as time went on and as sweat began to bead on your own temple, making every moan made and every breath you took much heavier.

He finally told you to stop, seeing how he could spot your juices staining your inner thighs from where your phone stood on the bedside table. “Pull those soaked panties to the side, (Y/n), and fuck yourself with that toy for me. I want you to be fucking dripping and soak that thing so badly that I can see your cum from my end.”

You can audibly hear him stroking his cock now, his pre-cum making it easier for him to pump and twist his thickness. A smile broke out onto your fae but by the look in his eyes, you knew it wouldn’t last as you pulled the red panties to the side with your free hand and rubbed the head of the toy between your lips before sliding it into you slowly.

A heady groan rang out from within you and your eyes snapped open as you began to fuck yourself with it, pressing the silicone balls against your clit to drive you to climax quicker. Moving back into your own little world, you could feel it moving against your inner walls and running against every spot that made you tick.

You threw your head forward with a moan, both of you watching how perfectly all of it fit within you in one go and how quickly you started thrusting it. You raised your hips to meet it with every pass, sighing whenever it filled you to the brim.

You were so lost within this space, your mind so cloudy with arousal, that you almost didn’t hear him call your name.

“Slower, babygirl. I don’t want you cumming yet. You’re not the only one who wants to drag this out.”

So from that point on, he directed your pace and your every movement, telling you to go slower or faster and leaving you hanging on a damn thread every time. Roman laughed heartily when you huffed and puffed out your cheeks, calling you adorable despite being a teasing brat.

“I’m only giving you what you asked for, so don’t blame me for any of this.”

He made you grind down on it every time the dildo went balls deep, making you cry out when he made you take it out right after and pass the sticky head over your clit. You were balancing on nearly nothing at that point, a heavy sheen of sweat now covering your body and seeping into the mesh tights you were wearing until he finally tossed you a bone.

“Now ride it. Ride that fucking toy like you will once I step through your goddamn door. Ride that dildo until you’re screaming my name and letting everyone on your block know who fucking owns you.”

He says this with a snarl, tightening his grip around his shaft and stroking himself quicker as you rose to your knees and moved a pillows between your thighs to suction the dildo onto it. You sunk down on it immediately, your juices making it much easier for you to slide it in and your walls hugging it closely. You grabbed another pillow and moaned loudly into it as you started bouncing, bits of your hair flying around your face and lightning running through your veins.

Your hands started to move in opposite directions; one drifted towards your breast to pluck and pull at your nipple, and the other fell to your pelvis as you began rubbing at your clit with your fingers. Looking at Roman through the phone didn’t do you any better at all, him showing you how hard and thick and ready he was for you.

His chest and forehead were covered in a thin layer of sweat as he stroked himself to a climax throwing his head back with a moan and tugging at his long hair. You could see thick streaks of white fly from the head and splatter his chest and stomach, making you moan as he lowered his head and looked straight back at you. His eyes were cloudy and lost but still dominant and utterly him which made you close your own eyes to keep yourself from reaching that peak.

But despite that, you could still feel it building up in your abdomen as the dildo hit all of your deepest spots and made you cry out to the heavens. Words could no longer spill from your mouth when you felt that twinge of arousal run directly through you and drive you closer and closer to that edge you were seeking. He was finally going to let you cum after what seemed like hours and hours of teasing…

...which is why it shocked you so much when Roman told you to end it.

“Stop.”

“....wait, what?”

“Babygirl, I said stop. Take the dildo out now.”

Even through your daze, you could hear him clearly. His eyes were nearly black, clouded fully with lust as he gripped the phone with one hand and held his softening cock with the other. Isn’t this what he said he wanted? You were so close, why should you stop now?

So you kept at it, grinding the toy down harder as you moved closer to the phone so he could see. You arched your back and pretended not to hear him, lost in your own little world of pleasure and dipping your hand back to your hard bud to rub at it furiously.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-”

“(Y/n), I said to fucking stop.”

And stop you did, ceasing all movements and quickly taking your hand away from your clit. The tone he used surprised you as he never really used his dom voice outside of the bedroom, so you knew he was fucking serious.

You moved to grab the phone from its place on the bedside table and whined as you slowly slid off the toy, the crotch of the lace panties a deep marroon as your walls clenched around nothing. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you put the dildo next to you and were sure to get it in frame, all shiny and glistening with your juices.

“Now what, Daddy?”

“Pick it back up and clean it off, baby.”

You did so without hesitation, moaning obscenely as you made a show of picking the toy up and running your tongue along its sides. He let out a low moan as he watched you watch him while you licked your juices off of it, swirling your tongue around the fake head like you would’ve if he was laying right there with you.

He hummed, the deep noise sending shivers down your spine as you placed it next to you and held the phone up before resting your head on the pillows behind you.

“All done,” you said coyly, biting your lower lip again as he ran a hand through his hair on the other side of the screen. Always did love when he did that.

Roman told you to put the toy back in the drawer where you found it and to change - both of which you did, dropping the dildo back into your toy chest and swapping out the soaked red panties for a tank top and silk shorts.

That’s future me’s problem, you thought when you noticed the wet spot staining your sheets, wearily moving around it before slipping under your blanket.

“I miss you, Ro. When are you getting back? Like, actually?” you asked, pouting your lips.

“I’ll be home in a week, babygirl,” he told you, out of breath and nearly falling back into the open lockers behind him. “You better not touch yourself until I get back.”

Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to sit up. “Huh? Why not?”

He ignored your question, moving over to his left to grab the towel that laid on the bench. Wiping off his chest again, he said assertively, “Your Daddy’s giving you a command, (Y/n). Follow it, or else I’m gonna put the belt on you for as long as I want.”

You gulped audibly, holding your tongue as your eyes grew wide. After a few seconds, you let out a soft “Ok” and he nodded in approval.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good girl for me, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

He didn’t even wait for your reply, hanging up the call and shutting off his phone. Roman threw it back into his bag and sighed as his deep brown eyes wandered to the ceiling and he slumped back against the wall next to it.

She’s gonna end up killing me someday, he figured, wiping his hand down his face, but what a hell of a way to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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dylshoney · 6 years ago

Text

when you’re ready

requests: maybe a shawn fic based on “when you’re ready” but you’re not the girl he sung about? and the girl shows up 10 years later and tries to get him back and you guys have been together for like 3 years and it just causes insecurities ?? does this make sense?? (love your work btw❤️)

Hellurrr! I have a request, if you will? TW Anxiety Attack Like if the female!reader has an anxiety attack because she thinks she's not good enough so Shawn helps her and holds her?

a/n: this was my first time trying to write angst (cause im usually an optimistic ass bitch) so if its bad just lie and scroll post ahahaha but i wanted to try and @superiorsoph sent this request in and i couldnt resist. im sorry i didnt follow it exactly, but i hope you like it love.

warnings: language, angst

“Stay still!”

You hear him say for the umpteenth time, but you pretend not to hear him, twirling around in the dress, laughing and shaking your hips.

He makes noises of disgruntlement and soon you hear the shutter of his camera go off, the flash blinding you for a few seconds, but you don’t care. You glide over to the full-length mirror on one side of the store and smile at your reflection. He was right, the dress is gorgeous.

You push down the fabric, loving the smoothness under your fingers and twirl once more. You can see Shawn roll his eyes in the reflection, but you can see the hint of a smile threatening to peak through. He places his camera back in the casing and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning down to press his head on your shoulder.

You’re both silent for a moment, just staring at the pair of you in the mirror. You hum, your head falling back into him, “I think we found the one.”

“I told you I’d be useful,” he tuts, pinching your hip. You flinch, turning around to smack his chest, “You only just started being useful. The past hour has been torture.”

He’s laughing, the beautiful crinkles on his face making your heart melt but you love teasing him, so you can’t give in just yet, “Trying on twenty dresses definitely wasn’t necessary.”

“No.” He agrees, smiling down at you with a shit- eating grin. “But we had to test all out options, didn’t we?”

You shake your head, turning back around to see yourself in the reflection, triple-checking that this was the right choice.

“You have to delete those photos, you know?”

“No!” He sounds almost offended. “Those are memories, there’s no way I’m getting rid of that.”

“But I look horrid,” you pout, blinking innocently.

“Don’t give me that face,” he shakes his head, “They’re all blurry anyway.”

You grin victoriously, winking at him, “The music in here is just too good – I couldn’t resist.”

He pauses for a moment, raising his finger to the ceiling, eyebrows raised. You focus on the sound of #Selfie by the Chainsmokers, your ears getting hot as you begin to nod slowly, “It has a nice rhythm?”

He shakes his head, but you’re already dancing again – thankful that there was no one else in the store on an early Wednesday morning.

“If you dance like that tonight, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”

You ignore him, taking his large hand into yours and spinning into him, his laughter getting louder as the two of you stumble around together.

The music changes to Troye Sivan’s Dance to This and you squeal a bit, getting overly excited as the two of your start shouting the lyrics at the top of your lungs. You can see the nice sales associate trying to contain her giggles as she pretends not to watch you, but you don’t care.

You’re watching Shawn. Your eyes never leaving him as he throws his head back, laughing as you mess up the lyrics. His hands pull you into him, your chest hitting his as you begin doing some sort of heightened version of a slow dance. His hands are warm against you, sending a current of energy through your body.

You’ve never smiled wider in your life, your heart clenching as he places a kiss on your forehead and you can’t believe that you’re still so in love with him after two years of being together. It’s never stopped being butterflies and sweaty palms with him – you’re body reacting to his touch like it was the first time.

Everyone around you recognized that as well, even the sales associate as she checked out the dress a few minutes later. You two are adorable, how long have you been engaged?

Shawn had squeezed your hand extra hard as the two of you tried to contain your giggles, explaining to her that the ring on your finger was a promise one. But Shawn made sure to add that he was hoping to fulfill that promise soon.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, leaving the store with a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You knew that Shawn was it for you, never once doubting that he was the person you were going to marry.

You just didn’t expect that maybe; you weren’t it for him too.

Later that night you found yourself at yet another event with Shawn, wearing the pretty red dress and smiling widely as people approached you.

You were happy to find that you could easily recognize and talk to many people, a stark comparison to how you were when you had just started going out with Shawn. You were more confident now, excepting that you belonged next to Shawn, that if you stood up straight and acted like you were meant to be there – people would believe it too.

You were sipping a Shirley temple, bopping your head lightly to the beat of the song radiating through the room, talking to Lina – the daughter of a famous record producer. She was probably your closest friend related to the industry, but she was usually too busy to attend these kind of parties – so you were taking in every second you could get with her.

“Ok look at Marsha,” Lina lifted her chin, motioning to a woman a few meters away from you, “She’s about to go talk to Roger. For the sixth time tonight.”

“No way.” You shook your head, cringing as Marsha started making her way over to the older man again. “He’s said no to her single like a million times already.”

“Have you heard it?”

“No.” You paused, “Wait? Have you?!”

She snorted, “I wish I didn’t.”

“Come one!” You threw your head back, “I would have paid to see your reaction.”

“I can perform some for you, if you’d like?”

You were quick to shake your head, but she was already going.

“If I could fly … I would never leave you dry ….”

“Stop! Please!” You were bent over, holding your stomach as you tried to contain your laughter. She was so off pitch that you were tempted to cover your ears.

“Maybe we could last forever ….”

“I don’t know what sadder,” you heaved, “The song – or the fact that you know it by heart.”

“She made me listen to it six times!”

“That sounds like – ”

“Excuse me.” You turned around at the sound of the voice, feeling a light touch on your shoulder. You were greeted with the sight of a beautiful blonde staring at you with a small smile.

“Hi.” You were quick to return the grin, trying to figure out if you remembered her from somewhere. She looked oddly familiar.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Shawn?”

You smiled, “I can go get him for you. Give me just a second.”

“Thank you so much!”

You found Shawn in the back, talking to someone you recognized to be very important, but his eyes lit up and he was on his feet the second he saw you.

“Hey angel, everything okay?”

“Hey,” you nodded as he wrapped a hand around your waist pulling you to the side, “There’s someone looking for you.”

You took his hand in yours, leading him through the mass of bodies in the space, over to where Lina and the stranger were waiting.

“Hey!” Your tone was light as you called out to her, “Found him!”

She turned around, an expectant look on her face before her eyes finally settled on your boyfriend.

“Kate.” Shawn’s voice was laced with shock, a smile gracing his features as he let go of your hand and shot forward to hug her.

You made eye contact with Julia from behind them, her light ones wide and looking at you with something you could only describe as sheer worry. You tilted your head, trying to understand what she was mouthing to you.

“It’s been so long.” You could hear Shawn say as they pulled apart, his tone laced with something you didn’t recognize.

“It has. You look amazing, Shawn.” Now that was something you did recognize.

You placed a hand on Shawn’s back, his eyes wide as he turned back to look at you, almost as if he’d forgotten you were even there.

“Kate,” his eyes were back on her immediately, “This is y/n, my … girlfriend.”

You hated the hesitation in his voice, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, smiling gently at her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“So, how do you two know each other?” Julia stepped forward, sipping on her drink as her narrowed eyes trained on Kate.

There was a moment of reluctance, which definitely didn’t help with your unease.

“We go way back.” Shawn finally said, Kate, giggling in response. Your smile faded. So they went way back. That was definitely code for used to date.

You hated the jealously that flooded through you. Your stomach clenching as your boyfriend continued to stare at the girl with an unrecognizable look.

Everyone was silent for a moment, Shawn’s eyes not leaving Kate, something you weren’t too happy about. You were used to being the center of his attention. And you felt selfish the second those thoughts filled your mind.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, the wide grin never leaving his face.

She smiled for a moment until her eyes traveled over to you and the expression faded, “I uh – was hoping we could talk?”

You didn’t like the look she was giving you, and you definitely didn’t like the sound of that. But Shawn was nodding and not even a second later he was turning to you, “I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you the chance to. He was already walking away, hot on her heels.

“What the actual fuck.”

You didn’t know how to answer. So instead you turned over the bar, immediately ordering four shots, making Lina talk them with you.

You had hoped that the alcohol would ease your nerves, but instead, you found yourself pacing in the bathroom, your head spinning as you tried to explain to Lina what was going on in your mind.

She did her best to try and calm you, easing your mind that it was nothing. Shawn loved you. It didn’t matter that he was slightly tipsy. Alone. And talking to his ex.

You trusted him with everything in you, but you didn’t trust the look in Kate’s eyes. And the look in his.

Shawn came back a half hour later, his eyes bloodshot and begging you to leave with him. You didn’t hesitate to agree, taking his outstretched hand and following him to the car.

You were both silent for a few moments but there was unspoken tension hanging in the air, your hands folded in your lap – trying to figure out how to phrase your words.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” You finally blurted, hating the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Shawn was silent for a few seconds, before he cleared his voice, “Everything’s fine. Kate just wanted to catch up.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. “How long were you together for?”

You could see him tense again, his shoulders tightening, “We weren’t. Almost though.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. She wasn’t ready, I guess.” His tone was clipped; sounding like he had uttered those words millions of times before. You could feel your breath catch in your throat.

She wasn’t ready.

You replayed those words in your head a million times before you could finally utter something else. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Shawn could sense the uneasiness in your voice, the unfamiliar tremble as you tried to calm your breathing.

His hand was quick to take yours, twisting it out of the clasp in your lap and holding it in his tightly, “Baby –”

“I’m just curious – I know there’s nothing to worry about I just –” your voice was higher than normal, Shawn’s hand tightening around yours.

But he was silent. Staring straight ahead at the stoplights. The bright red glow illuminating his impassive features.

“There is nothing to worry about, right?” You found yourself saying.

“Of course not.”

Your heart was in your stomach, and you suddenly felt like there was no room in the car – no air.

“Shawn,” you whispered, “Did something happen?”

He swallowed again, “No.”

You were both silent for the rest of the ride home, Shawn’s hand holding yours – the only thing stopping you from falling apart.

The second the car parked in your driveway, you let go of him and jumped out, not waiting for him to follow – speed walking to the front door. Your hands were shaking as you tried to stick the key into the lock, your blurry eyes making it hard for you to focus.

“Y/n – ”

You could hear Shawn coming up behind you, but the door burst open just in time – saving you from having to look at him, “I – I have to go to the bathroom.”

You could hear him shout something back but you were already sprinting up the stairs and into your shared room, shutting the door behind you and bolting into the bathroom.

You were shaking, pulling your phone out and googling the one thing on your mind since the second you heard it.

The lyrics to Shawn’s When You’re Ready showed up on screen and you tried to calm your breathing, scrolling for a moment before your tears began collecting again and you were sobbing.

You gripped the sink, your breaths choked up as you tried to control your heart rate.

You could feel a tightness expanding through your chest, like a weight that was pulling you down. You were on your knees before you had a chance to blink, your hands wrapped around your dress as you tried to get a grip on yourself.

Moments passed but your breathing wasn’t picking up, you tried to blink away the tears, but they kept flowing as your shallow breaths increased.

You stood; your head spinning at the sudden movement, making you fall back and steady yourself against the sink. A jewelry box slid off at the impact, falling and smashing on the floor.

You flinched back at the noise, your ears registering a muffled yelling from behind your door, but you couldn’t make it out. You didn’t understand any of it, your chest heaved as you fell back onto your knees, sounding like you were chocking on air. Black spots began to cloud your vision, the room starting to spin.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you back into a hand chest, but your mind was too cloudy to process any of it.

“Breathe – ” you could just make out his words, “You’re having a panic attack.”

“I can’t I –”

Shawn spun you into him, on his knees before you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he placed his forehead on yours. You tried to make out the golden color of his eyes but you couldn’t focus on anything but the tightness in your chest.

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” His thumbs were lightly massaging your jaw, “You’re going to inhale for me on the count of three.”

“1.. 2.. inhale.” You obeyed, your chest filling up with air as you shook in his grasp.

“Now exhale,” he said, his voice shaky, “Now again.”

“Inhale…exhale…inhale….exhale.”

It was working, your mind slowly clearing as you focused on the sound of his voice.

You sighed easily for the first time in a while, your eyes finally opening and meeting his tear-streaked ones.

You pulled away from him immediately, falling back onto your butt as you crawled further away, the cold tile the least of your concerns.

“You – you.” You heaved, trying to catch your breath, “You wrote it about her.”

He tilted his head, looking like a devastated, confused puppy, “Angel I don’t know –”

“When you’re ready! You wrote it about her, didn’t you?”

Shawn blinked, a single tear falling from his eye as he crawled over to you. You flinched, scooting away until your back hit the wall.

“Y/n I –”

“The song was written four months into our relationship.” You sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your dress, not caring about how much money you had spent this morning. Now, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You had said that Teddy wrote most of it. That it was a spur of the moment thing. That none of your songs were based on anyone until you met me.”

He was silent, tears streaking down his cheeks as he tried to catch his breath, “Baby –”

“You were waiting for her. This entire time. Weren’t you?”

“No!” He tried to get closer, but stopped at the expression on your face, “No! I love you, I –”

“Cause ain't n –nobody like you. F- familiar disappointment every single time I do.” You began to recite, your hiccupping sobs making it hard to understand.

“Y/n. Baby, please let me explain – ”

“Every single night my arms are not around you. My mind's still wrapped around you.” You shut your eyes, your entire body shaking as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to figure out how this was happening to you.

“Baby, tell me when you're ready.” You opened at the sound of a choked sob coming from the other side of the room. Shawn was on the floor, his head between his hands as he sobbed, shoulders shaking.

You were silent, trying to stop yourself from rushing over to him and holding him in your arms – something you had grown so accustomed to that now you felt like you were having an out of body experience.

“Do you still love her?”

That wasn’t what you had planned to say, but you needed to hear it. You needed to know if the last two years were a waste, if the ring on your finger had ever meant something to the boy you thought was going to be yours forever.

Shawn was silent, his shoulders slumping as he threw his head back.

“Shawn?” Your voice was sterner than it had been all day.

“I – ” Another wrecked sob flew through him.

You covered your mouth as you felt your chest close up again. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath – you were not about to have another panic attack right now.

You gripped the vanity to your left, using it to pull yourself to your feet. Your mind went hazy from how fast you rose, your head already pounding from how hard you’d been crying.

“She told you she was ready, didn’t she?”

All Shawn could do was nod, his eyes not opening as he placed his head back in his hands – his elbows on his knees as he started crying again.

You threw your head back, urging yourself not to cry – but nothing could stop the whimper from flying out of you, your eyes shutting again.

Everything was silent again. For a few moments, you hoped that he would say something. That he would get to his feet and explain that everything was a misunderstanding – that he would take you in his arms and hold you, telling you that you were the one he loved. The only one he loved.

However, things weren’t that simple. They never were with Shawn. But never before had you doubted where you stood with him.

“I – I can’t do this.” You found yourself saying, his head snapping up – bloodshot eyes meeting yours.

He was on his feet before you could blink, “No. Y/n – let’s talk about this, please.”

You hesitated, before shaking your head. It was too late for talking now. You had waited for him to act and he had left you dry.

“You need to figure yourself out before we can do that Shawn.” You spun the ring on your finger. “I can’t be with you if you’re not a hundred percent sure about me.”

“I love you.” His voice cracked, a single tear traveling down his sculpted cheek again.

“I love you too.” You sniffled, taking the ring off your finger – Shawn immediately flinching back, “Please. Please don’t leave me.”

“You lied to me. You used me as a placeholder for her. You still love –”

“I don’t. I don’t.” He was shaking, his hands coming up to fold behind his head, “It was a spur of the moment, baby – ”

“I know you, Shawn.” You were tired, and he was delirious. You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, and you were afraid that if you kept this up any longer – he could convince you to stay.

“Call me when you figure everything out. And then we can talk.”

You placed the ring on the counter, the clang of it hitting the marble making Shawn flinch again, but you didn’t let yourself get phased.

You took one long look at him, before turning around and walking out of the bathroom – and ultimately the house.

He didn’t call after you once.

__________________________________________________________________

permanent taglist: @tw-stydiaaf @egg-in-a-spork @alone-in-madness @yourwonderbelle @musiclover1263 @spideyshcllands@savingmartinski @unconditionalcalum @carolinabiondi @polishcrazyone @mendesmusical @prettymuchnew @melli-studies @sharkboy-mara @itrocksmysocks @alinashawn @jerseygrayson @royalexperiment256 @aboutthefantasyinmyhead

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Lemon's Misadventures in Dating, Chapter 6 (Lemon x Everyone) - Mermelada

A/N: Hi everyone! Here’s chapter 6, as seen on Ao3! I found out that Lemon’s irl mum is Scottish, so naturally, I had to include her as a character and base her on my own! More is coming soon, so watch this space! :D I love you all!!

[07:24] HEY GIRL!

[07:24] I’m so sorry but I ate your sister for breakfast

[07:24] She was a grapefruit lololololol

[07:24] I’m sorry please don’t hate me

[07:24] But she was delicious

[07:25] So what’s the tea on Little Miss Lemon? I want to know everything! What’s your favourite type of pasta?

Lemon read the messages again as she sat at the kitchen island, sipping her coffee. She couldn’t help but smile. That was not what she was expecting at all from Priyanka, she looked so poised and regal in all her photos, yet in reality she was coming across as a complete goofball. Although it had been three hours now, and she was still awaiting a reply.

[09:58] Umm how fucking dare you?

[09:58] Don’t even expect me to respond to that until I get a full apology, you murderer.

Was the joke not obvious? Fuck, what if she thinks I’m serious? But then she started it…

“What’s got you smiling, princess?”

She jumped with shock as her mum walked through the door, placing her handbag on the counter and opening the fridge door. She knew her mum only worked a half-day on Thursdays, but her sudden appearance was a surprise nonetheless. Lemon felt like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t be.

“Oh, nothing,” she sang, quickly locking her phone and putting it back in her pocket, away from prying eyes, “how was work?”

“Well you’re not acting like it was nothing,” teased her mum, moving around the kitchen in a blur as she prepared her lunch. “Is it a girl?”

Lemon failed to hide the blush rising on her face, she knew her mum meant no harm, but she was not prepared to get into a conversation about dating and hookups with her so early in the day, and with so little alcohol to hand. “Muuuuuuuuum” she groaned, hoping that the coolness of her hands would remove the redness as she placed her chin in her palms.

“I’m just glad you’re happy, darling, you deserve it after the summer you’ve had!” Lemon couldn’t deny that her mum had been an absolute angel these last few months. She listened to Lemon way back when she had first admitted that things weren’t working like they should be, and never once offered any judgement or tried to convince her to stay. She had even helped Lemon move her things out of her old apartment as quickly as was humanly possible for the pair of them, while she was at work. “Are you up to date with your tetanus shots though, because you’ll need one if she’s doing that to you!”

Just when Lemon felt she couldn’t get any redder, her mum’s finger was poking the mottled bruise peeking out from under the loose collar of her t-shirt, her whole body burning as her mind flashed back to the moment it had been placed there… the body above her trembling, grabbing a handful of platinum hair as they grinded against each other’s thighs, the muffled cries in French… “Oh my god, mum, please stop!”

“What?! You can’t just disappear for two nights in a row and not expect me to be curious! What’s her name?”

She audibly groaned at her mother’s prying tone, laying her head on the cold marble countertop. “Mum, I love you, but I am not having this conversation with you right now!”

Fucking Rita, I’m sure she’ll find this funny at least, Lemon made a mental note to text the other woman later, wondering if she’s had any similar happenings with her work colleagues, or if she had enough experience - and common sense - to hide the evidence of her Tinder trysts better. At least she had put on leggings after waking up today, as shorts would have only showcased an even more incriminating patchwork of colourful marks across her inner thighs.

Her mum simply smiled and wrapped an arm around her from behind the high kitchen chair, planting an affectionate kiss on her daughter’s temple. “Well, you know what I always say, pumpkin, as long as you’re happy and safe, go out there and have fun! Are dental dams still a thing? Do you need some?”

Lemon could only muster a grunt in response, her head making an audible bang as she threw it onto the counter, deeply wishing that the conversation was over. Right on cue, she felt the phone in her pocket buzz with a new notification. She practically leapt off her seat, ready to run to the safety of her bedroom. “Well, on that note, I’m going to remove myself from this deeply uncomfortable situation. Thank you, mother!”

“Ooh is that her texting you? When are you seeing her next?” The enthusiastic questions fell - as her mum expected - on deaf ears, Lemon gulping down the remainder of her cold coffee and placing the empty mug in the sink.

When she finally reached her safe haven, she pushed the door closed and jumped back on the bed. Despite knowing her parents wouldn’t mind at all, she still wasn’t ready to admit she was trying to move on, let alone with an assortment of random ladies from the Greater Toronto Area. She grabbed at her phone excitedly, her eyes lighting up when she saw that Priyanka had finally answered.

[13:35] My dearest Lemon, I must beg for your forgiveness, for I have sinned gravely. Upon awakening from my slumber and entering my cooking chamber, my stomach began to sing a dreadful tune. In the search for something to quell its anger, I encountered a grapefruit, as cute as your face and as juicy as your ass probably is. With no other option, I slaughtered it, dressed it with some sugar, and devoured its flesh. Would you please accept my most sincere apology in the form of a drink sometime?

This crazy bitch. No other interaction on the app had left Lemon feeling so giddy, her heart had sped up and her stomach was doing somersaults. Yes yes yes yes oh my god of course! Luckily her common sense kicked in, and she realised she should probably act a bit less… desperate.

[13:40] Let me think about it

[13:41] Loljk of course!

[13:41] Any day/time work best for you? I’m afraid I’m fully booked this weekend

[13:41] Mourning my sister and all

[13:41] (I mean the grapefruit btw sorry that could have been weird)

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long for a response.

[13:42] LOL I’m glad it didn’t turn dark

[13:42] Any night that’s not a school day is best for me!

[13:43] Speaking of which I better get back and entertain some little people, ttyl xo

[13:43] KIDS, btw, just in case xx

Lemon shook her head as she smiled, Priyanka was certainly something else. Cute, funny, sexy… hopefully she didn’t ruin it by having bad breath or murderous tendencies. She couldn’t explain it, she already felt something special about the girl, something she hadn’t felt since- no. Let’s not ruin a good thing by thinking about her. But the more she looked at Priyanka’s profile, the more memories of Juice kept flooding her mind. Taking a moment, she sat on the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her and breathing deeply and rhythmically, a makeshift meditation to nip any panic in the bud.

Is it still too soon? Maybe I’m not ready to be moving on if I still think about her so much, and if I still get so emotional doing so. Images of the former couple danced around her head; walking hand in hand, snuggling on the couch under blankets, even just helping each other cook, or drinking coffee in bed on a rainy morning. I thought it was what I wanted, but maybe I was wrong. She sat silently for a few minutes, trying her best to think of nothing but a dark sky filled with distant, twinkling stars, but even that took her mind back to the nights they’d spend wandering around their neighbourhood, talking about their hopes and dreams, where they’d live once they got married, how many cats and dogs it was acceptable to have. It seemed like the natural course for them, but not everything can work out the way people want it to.

She didn’t know whether it was the buzz of her phone on the bed behind her, or Gus’s gentle panting as he pushed through the door which awoke her from her semi-trance, but she took the opportunity to stand up and shake the stiffness out of her body. It was a natural impulse to bring her hands to her eyes to wipe away her tears, but she was pleasantly surprised to not find any there today. Maybe things were getting better after all.

She and Gus both slid onto her bed, the dog circling three times before plopping himself down in the crook of Lemon’s elbow, which she rewarded with a firm scratch under his chin. Picking up her phone, it buzzed again in her hand with messages from Rita.

Dr Rita <3 [14:02] shared a link

Dr Rita <3 [14:05] Bonjour! How are you today, mon citron? I had a nap after work and I am now ready for the gym :-O Last night a colleague told me about this dance school where his daughters go, a teacher is pregnant and will need someone to cover the classes when she is off. I thought of you :-) I hope you slept better than a baby! X

Dr Rita <3 [14:06] Also I found a bruise on my ass yesterday, I was in pain every time I was sitting down, thank you very much…

Lemon had always believed in fate to some degree, and upon seeing the link Rita had sent, she had no doubt that destiny had been on her side during the events of the last few days. She stared at the familiar tan bricks of her old dance school, the smiling face of her old principal teacher finally giving her the push she needed to get back in the saddle. She threw on a pair of jeans and a woolen cardigan, replying to Rita with one hand as she pulled on her ankle boots with the other.

[14:10] Merci merci, I’ll check it out!! Have fun at the gym, you crazy pomme! How was sexy kidney lady?

[14:11] And de rien 😘 my mum saw the one on my neck today, she thinks I’m being bullied 😞

Jumping down the stairs two at a time and shouting a quick goodbye to her mum - closing the door before she could hear the inevitable embarrassing reply - she walked as quickly as her legs could possibly take her to the dance school, a path she had already walked hundreds of times throughout her childhood. Even if they said no, she would sign up to classes or find some auditions, how could this not be a sign from the universe to start dancing again? As she reached the heavy iron door, she checked her phone one last time.

Dr Rita <3 [14:14] Courage, ma belle! They would be idiots to not want you! Well, she made me my favourite tea and told me she liked my lipstick, so I think we are married now?

Dr Rita <3 [14:16] And I am so sorry! :-( Do you have arnica cream? I hope your mother knows it was at your request? ;-)

She had really lucked out with Rita, she needed a good friend like her in her corner right now. And as she stepped inside, navigating the bright corridors to the principal’s office, she was really glad she’d downloaded Tinder.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #mermelada #lemon #priyanka #rita baga #kyne #kiara #juice boxx #submission #lmid #can1

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sterling-starlight · 4 years ago

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No Texting During Drama Club

Me: Alright! Week two of Vesuvian pride is all about the modern day AUs, I can do this!

*Eight pages later*

What happened? (Pen pals/online friends meeting in person for the first time. Not quite as adherent to the prompt, but I think it works well enough)

Unknown Sender

3:30 PM.

“-heard u have a&p with prof valdemar. If you let me copy ur notes, I will owe u pizza for the rest of our lives.

-this is Julian, btw. from the theater club.

-in case u thought this was some, u know, random creep.”

You

3:35 PM

“-Fine. But only because no one deserves to be failed by Valdemar.

-I’ll drop them off at the dressing room tomorrow. I like pineapple and olive pizza.”

Unknown Sender

3:37 PM

“-pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, u monster!

-sigh. but I'll let it slide since you’re saving my ass.”

You

3:41 PM

“-Did you really just type out ‘sigh’?”

Unknown Sender

3:43 PM

“-….

-Yes.”

----------------

You

6:30 PM

“-So, hey. Congrats on getting to play Hamlet.”

Julian

6:34 PM

“-not the most original production we’ve done, but a role’s a role. seeing Lucio’s face when he realized he wasn’t the star was worth it.”

You

6:40 PM

“-Remind me who that is.

I’m seriously drawing a blank here.”

Julian

6:43 PM

“-blonde. rich. Insufferable. loud.

-he has that fancy prosthetic arm that somehow makes him better than everyone.”

You

6:50 PM

“-Oooooooooh. Him.

-He doesn’t really come to bother us production people unless he wants to bitch about costuming or the sets. Which is a lot.”

Julian

6:55 PM

“-i think I've heard you chew him out a few times. Ur the girl with the venterran accent, right?”

You

7:01 PM

“-Aye.

-Surprised you could even understand me. Not a lot of people can when I get PO’d.”

Julian

7:10 PM

“-i understood enough to know you called him a prick.

-my mom and dad took me to venterre once. it was almost as pretty as you.”

You

7:20

“-Wow.

-That was horrible and you should feel horrible.”

Julian

7:12

“-I have no shame, and never will, my dear.”

-------------------------------------

Julian

3:00 AM

“-natalia

“-hey, natalia.”

“-tali”

Julian 3:05 AM

“-how did people in the middle ages first think to start using leeches?

“-like, did they stick leeches on themselves and realize that pain and blood loss and disease was the medicine?”

You

3:06 AM

“Jules, it is 3 in the goddamn morning. Go to bed.”

Julian

3:07 AM

“I work the graveyard shift at supermarket. it’s my lunchtime.”

You

3:08 AM

“-Then fuckin eat your lunch and let normal people sleep before I cram it up your ass.”

Julian

3:10 AM

“- I can think of much more fun things we can do.”

You

3:15 AM

“-Fuck you, I’m going back to sleep.”

-----------------------

Jules

2:30 PM

“-So you really had a pet ram as a kid?”

You

2:31 PM

“-Technically, I still do. I just couldn’t bring him with me.

“-my flat allows large dogs, but won’t allow rams? It’s bullshit.”

Jules

2:32 PM

“-rams aren’t really normal pets tho.”

You

2:33 PM

“-Says the guy who has a pet crow.”

Jules

2:34 PM

“-malak is a raven, number 1.

-number 2, he is an absolute delight. how dare you say otherwise?

You

2:40

“-Rufus is better.

“-Behold the glory”

Jules

2:50 PM

“-oh, so it’s a pet off then? Fine! May the cutest animal win!”

You

3:00 PM

“-Fine!”

Jules

3:05 PM

“-Have at you!”

-------------------------------------

When Natalia’s phone rang, she was actually shocked to see Julian’s caller id flash on the screen. They had never actually... talked on the phone before.

The worst-case scenarios instantly popped into her head. Was he hurt? Did something happen? What if this was the hospital calling her to say he was in critical condition. Why would he put her as an emergency medical contact without telling her?!

Her phone buzzed again, more insistently, and she pressed the answer button with a trembling finger.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi~” The feminine voice from the other line was definitely not Julian, not even at his most dramatic falsetto. And she sounded too chipper to be the bearer of doom and death. Natalia let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding. “This is... Tali? Right?”

“It’s Natalia, actually. Who is this?”

“My name is Portia! I’m Ilya’s- oh, sorry. One sec,” Portia put a hand over the speaker, muffling the commotion on her side of the line. There was thumping, shuffling, and her shouting “You have her listed as ‘My Dearest Tali’, Ilya! Come on!”

A voice that sounded somewhat like Julian’s shouted back something, but Natalia couldn’t hear it clearly. There was a sound like static or rushing wind, before a door slammed and Portia let out a triumphant laugh. Portia’s voice fully came back on the line. “Sorry. But, yeah. I’m Ilya’s little sister. I would have liked to meet you in person, but my brother is completely hopeless.” Someone thumped against the door, and Portia lowered the phone again. “You know I’m right!” She yelled at the door.

Back to normal. “Aaaanyway. He’s been lamenting, and sighing, and wallowing over whether or not he should ask you out. So! You wanna go on a date with him?”

Natalia opened and closed her mouth a few times, wordless sounds escaping. She was sure her face was burning pink. She could feel the heat spreading from her cheeks to her neck. “Take your time. I can be in here all day.” Portia said casually. Natalia could almost picture her reclining back casually on whatever it was she was sitting on.

“Ah- Ah,” Natalia finally managed to choke out. She took in a deep breath, and let it out in a slow whistle. “...if he really wants tae.” She finally said.

“Oh, he does. Trust me, I know him better than anyone.” Natalia could hear Portia’s smile through the phone. Distantly, a lock clicked and a door swung open. “She said yes, Ilyushka. You can thank me later.”

“That wasn’t- you’re missing the-!” Julian stammered. He took a breath and lifted the phone to his ear. “Listen, whatever Pasha said, you can just forget it. Really. It’s nothing.”

For a moment, Natalia found herself stunned by the sound of his voice. It wasn’t anything new to her. She had heard it from behind thick velvet curtains and up on catwalks. She had heard him bellow for lost love mournfully, monologue passionately, and condemn his enemies. But those were all characters. Hamlet, and Romeo, and Othello. None of them had been Julian Devorak. Not really.

“Natalia?” His voice broke her out of her stupor, and sent a shiver down her spine. The way his tongue curled around the syllables of her name, like he had never spoken anything more sacred, sent her heart aflame in the best possible way.

“Julian.” She spoke his name barely above whisper. Natalia leaned against her desk for support, head spinning. When had- how did- why didn’t he- she- they-? She took in a breath through her nose, just as Julian heaved a resigned sigh.

“Good night, Tali.”

“No, wait, Julian! Don’t-!” The dial tone droning in her ear was all she got. And when she tried calling him, all she got was his voice mail.

Try again. Voice mail.

You

8:00 PM

“-Julian, you asshole! Pick up your phone!”

*Last Read by Jules at 8:05 PM.

--------------

Natalia Valeth was not a quitter.

She hadn’t given up when she left her home country to become a pharmacist. She hadn’t lost hope when she didn’t make the cut to be on the acting team. She didn’t back down even as Professor Valdemar verbally tore the first draft of her thesis to shreds. So, when she drove to the community theater the very next weekend, she was a woman on a mission.

She was hours early for once, but not so early that the doors to the theater weren’t already unlocked. The only person who would wake up at the ass crack of dawn for theater was Julian, and that was exactly what Natalia was betting on. She threw open the auditorium doors with a resounding bang that echoed resoundingly all throughout the room. Sitting on the edge of the stage was Julian, who looked up at her when she made her entrance. The script he had been looking over listlessly fell from his grip, scattering like leaves in the wind. In such a quiet room, Natalia could hear him curse as if she were right at his side. She steeled herself and marched down the steps of the auditorium, stopping less than an arm’s length away from were Julian sat on his haunches collecting the papers.

“We need tae talk. Face tae face this time.”

“Do we?” Julian finally collected the script and rose to his full height. Despite having a good foot on Natalia, he had never looked smaller gunmetal gray eyes looking everywhere but at her. He turned his back on her to tap the pages crisply against the stage.

“You bet yer ass we dae! Whit th’ hell urr ye thinking’s? Whit, did ye think ignoring this wid mak’ it go away?”

“...Maybe a little.”

“Och! Yer impossible!” Natalia threw her hands up with the exclamation. “Did ye think Ah juist said ‘aye’ tae fuck wi’ ye? A’m waantin’ tae gang oan a date wi’ ye! Mibbie even twa! If we feel really crazy, we’ll mak’ it three.”

It might not have been the three magical worlds that would have been most dramatic. If this were a stage production, this would be the part where the lights would dim, and the spotlight would narrow over the two lovers, giving the illusion that they were the only two people in the world. With the theater as empty as it was, they might as well have been.

“Do you... Do you mean that?”

Such vulnerability didn't seem like Julian. Julian could throw out innuendos as easily as breathing. Julian was overly dramatic in everything he did, even when he wasn’t in front of an adoring audience. But it was the Julian who wanted to be a doctor. It was the Julian who looked at all the pandemics of the past, and wondered why so many people had to die. The Julian who was wound up so tightly like he was bracing himself for ejection like it would come as a physical blow.

Sarcasm felt like it would just add fuel to the fire, so Natalia opted for compassion instead. When she brushed her hand against Julian’s cheek, he leaned into it like he needed her touch the same way needed air.

“I’m willin tae huv a go at this.” She said gently, like everything would shatter around them if she was too abrasive. “Ye in?”

“Absolutely.” Julian placed a hand over hers and tilted his head enough to plant a shy, fleeting kiss to her palm.

Maybe this would end in a romance for the ages. Maybe this would end in tragedy. Whatever happened, it was better than not pursing it at all.

#Vesuvian Pride 2020 #vp2020 #julian devorak #natalia valeth #julian x mc #the used alchemy to combine college aus with drama club aus #in which Portia tries to play wingman but Julian is too busy being insecure to appreciate it #the arcana #the arcana game

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hajimesh · 5 years ago

Text

lokasenna pt. 9

word count: 2.1k

pairing: jötunn!loki x healer!reader

summary: an unpleasant visit ends up hurting you but your new friend, Loki, will come to your rescue... right?

a/n: it’s 4am here and i’m not sleepy so here you have an update from my insomniac ass. btw ST season 3 is ooouuutttt!♡

Masterlist

- Níu -

The next day you spent the majority of it at the infirmary. You had a few patients, but overall everything was calm and silent. You sat on the small waiting room, that had a sofa and chairs tucked in a corner, with a book on your hands to study in the meantime. But it didn't matter how hard you tried to focus, your mind kept wandering off to last night.

Loki and you kept talking until the early morning. The rising sun made you realize that you missed your sleeping hours but you really didn't mind. Loki was great company and quite funny if he wanted to. Seeing him so carefree and relaxed in your presence made you so happy, you had always wanted to spend time with him and you blamed Frigga for that. She was always talking about him with you, saying how smart and witty he was. But she didn't make him justice, at all. She didn't mention how his eyes glimmered when he talked about all the mischief he did when he was a kid, or how wide his smile got when talking about his favourite books and poetry. It warmed your heart to see him so happy, he deserved it and you wished nothing but the best for him.

Steering away from your thoughts, you stretched and yawned, feeling tired and sleepy. Until someone barged in the room.

The doors opened and a group of guards marched in until they stood at the centre of the room. Once they halted their movements they switched their positions, making room in the middle. Walking from the core of the group, Princess Angrboda made her way until she stood at the front. Her eyes skimmed around the room and you took your chance to quickly examine her.

Her platinum hair was pulled up in a set of intricate braids that fell on her back and she was wearing a very well-fitting white dress that contrasted beautifully with her pale blue skin. Her stormy eyes finally landed on your form and she raised her brow.

You were confused but the harsh glare of one of the guards quickly made you realize your mistake.

“Oh-OH! Apologies, your Highness.” You made a curtsy and waited for her to speak so you could stand straight again.

Her skirts flowed behind her as she encircled you. A soft hum came from her throat and you were starting to get cramped in the uncomfortable position.

“You must be Loki’s pet.” Her voice was strong, holding an air of authority.

“I beg your pardon?”

Her statement threw you off and your mind went blank. A pet?

But she paid no mind to your words as she continued speaking. “I must admit I never thought he’d choose an Asgardian. I had in mind a more exciting creature.”

Your jaw dropped at her words. How rude!

“I’m sorry but someone must’ve informed you wrongly, your Highness. Yes, I am an Asgardian but I’m not King Loki’s pet, I work here as a healer.”

Angrboda smiled mockingly as she walked closer to you. “Of course, my bad.” She winked, her smile turning into a smirk and before you could reply she interrupted you again. “Now, if you’d be so kind go to my quarters and run me a bath. Afterwards I want a massage.” Rolling her eyes she kept complaining. “Traveling all the way from the south has taken a toll on me.”

You were fed up with her and her rude words. Yes, she may be the Princess but you were not going to stand there and take shit from anyone. Not even from her.

“No.”

Whipping her head around she stared at you, eyes narrowing in a threatening way. “Excuse me?”

Trying to look firm and unwavering, you tilted your chin upwards and steadied your voice before answering her. “I said no. I’m no servant nor anyone’s pet. I’m a healer, so unless you’re feeling sick I’m afraid I cannot help you.”

Angrboda’s body stiffened and you could see her jaw muscles tightening as she turned to face you, a crazed look on her eyes.

“How dare you speak to your future queen in such a way!?”

Without a second thought she threw her hand at you, slapping you on the cheek. The room grew silent and her ragged breaths could be the only thing you could hear. The sting on your cheek quickly grew warm and tears welled up in your eyes.

You rose up from the previously slouching position you were in and as you were to retaliate, your eyes caught sight of Loki, standing on the entrance with a neutral face.

Angrboda’s eyes followed yours as she saw a lack of reaction from your part and found Loki on the doorway. His eyes briefly caught hers but a second later he switched them back to you.

“Angrboda. Come with me, please.” His voice sounded distant and flat.

She straightened up before answering him. “Of course, my King.”

After nodding his head once, he turned around and walked away from the scene; Angrboda trailing right behind him.

The guards left as soon as the royals left the room and some of them had the decency of looking sorry for you, yet no one said a thing.

You were left alone but now with a red mark on your face and hot tears running down your cheeks.

* * * *

“There. That should help with the redness.”

Ægir’s hands left your cheek as he inspected his work.

After everyone left, you sobbed yourself to sleep and when you finally woke up you found it was already dark. As you were about to leave, Ægir appeared on the doorway, claiming that he heard from one of the guards what had happened earlier and that he went to check up on you at your room. When he didn’t found you there he grew worried and somehow, the last place he thought he’d find you was the infirmary.

He immediately offered to help you, rubbing ointment on your cheek. You hadn’t noticed it but when Angrboda hit you she was wearing a ring which cut your skin, leaving a red line with dried blood.

“You know, I’m the healer here. I should be the one doing this.” You joked, wanting to lighten up the mood a bit.

You heard him scoff, his back turned to you as he got rid of the dirty cloths he used to clean the cut. “Nonsense. I’m more than glad to help. Although, it’d have been better if it were in a different situation.”

You sighed. Suddenly the bracelets on your wrist more interesting than your conversation with Ægir.

“I can’t believe he didn’t say anything.” He stopped for a moment, disbelief clear on his voice. “One would think he’d care more about his friend than a stranger.”

You saw him shake his head and you sighed again.

“King Loki and I are not friends.”

At this, he turned around so he could face you properly, a confused look on his face. “But– you have known him since you were children. Have you not?”

“Yes, but he has always been up there.” You answered him as you motioned with your eyes at the ceiling. “And I’m down here.”

Ægir gave you a look of pity which you hated. He crouched down to your eye level, holding your hands in his and gave them a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry. If you ever find yourself in need of a friend know that I’m here for you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, you could really use a friend like him in a place so hostile as Utgard. “Thank you, Ægir.”

He gave your hands one more squeeze before he let them go and stoop up. Holding a hand in front of you he gestured for you to take it.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?”

You took his hand and he helped you up. “I’d like that very much, yes.”

The both of you started walking, side by side, across the castle. A nice silence sat between the both of you and you took the chance to imagine what would you do once you got to your room.

A nice, warm bath was first, of course. And then you were wondering if you should read a book from the library or work on your magic, seeing as after that nap you were not tired at all. Sadly, your happy bubble busted when you saw Loki making his way straight to you.

He was a good distance away from you but eventually you’d meet, seeing as he was walking in the opposite direction.

The inevitable happened and when he stood just a few meters away from you, you heard him call your name softly.

“Y/N…”

With a curt nod you greeted him. “Your Majesty.”

Loki grimaced, a pained look on his face. “Can we talk?” But when he saw you stepping away from him he couldn’t help but plead for you to stay. “Please?”

You looked at Ægir and he gave you a nod, stating that he’d be there if you needed him. Ægir walked a few steps away from you to give you a bit of privacy and only when he was away Loki dared to speak.

“How is your cheek?” The pained look was still present on his face and you were starting to grow irritated by it.

“She has a cut. There was blood.”

Ægir’s voice called from the distance and Loki gave him a short but menacing look before switching his gaze back to you. “I can see that.”

You rolled your eyes at their interaction. It was as if two boys were here instead of a King and a well-respected sea jötunn.

“I’m fine.”

Your tone was neutral which made Loki uneasy. He took a step forward but you immediately took one back, keeping your distance from him.

“Y/N I’m truly sorry. What happened was totally–”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your question caught him off guard. Not only because you interrupted him but because you were now looking incredibly hostile. Something he had never seen in your eyes before.

“Wha–”

“You saw it. You saw what she did yet you chose to remain silent.”

Remembering the scene only made your heart hurt again. Loki, your only friend here who could understand how lost you felt in this realm, turning his back on you. You were well aware that your heart broke not only for the friendship but for the could’ve been. What could’ve been if you were more than a healer. He was a good ruler, you were certain of it, but he couldn’t care less for you.

“I couldn’t possibly interfere–”

Once again you cut him off, the rage bursting out of you. “That’s bullshit!”

Both Loki’s and Ægir’s eyes grew wide at your outburst and Loki was quick to try and calm you down.

“Shhh! Not here!”

You ran a hand down your face, wincing when you rubbed at your sore cheek. “Just– answer me one thing. Are you going to marry her?”

A silence sat between the both of you. Loki’s eyes seemed to burst out of their socket as he paled considerably.

At his lack of answer you repeated yourself. “Are you? Because if you are then there’s no point in me staying here any longer. I will not tolerate such behavior from someone who is not my princess and who will never be my queen.”

With his mouth agape, Loki stared at you, completely speechless. Was he going to marry her? Hel– he didn’t even know himself.

The sudden noise of steps approaching got Ægir’s attention but Loki and you were very busy staring at each other, your heart hanging on a thin rope waiting for his answer to either cut it or save it from an ugly fall.

“Are you?”

You saw a guard ran with all his might towards you. “Your Majesty!”

But Loki paid no mind, still debating on what to say.

“I–I..”

The longer he took to answer, the more you felt your gut wrenching in pain.

“Your Majesty!”

With his nerves on end, Loki finally turned around to face the guard who now stood a meter away from him.

“What!?”

The guard had panic written all over his face and you suddenly felt even worse. Something was wrong.

With one sentence the guard managed to suck the air out of the three of you, fear and confusion placing themselves on the pit of your stomachs.

“We are under attack.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

help me with feedback and/or a reblog if u enjoyed it :)

lokasenna taglist: @perceptorxbrainstorm / @immakween / @ellaxiv / @pinkmoontribe-blog / @help-i-need-a-social-life

loki taglist: @slytherinsassembletofightsith / @memmucci / @servamp-addict / @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 / @theworld-is-ahead / @crescent-night / @godhateskyleigh / @deathofmissjackson

marvel taglist: @for-the-love-of-the-fandom

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x y/n #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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punkcupcakestyles · 6 years ago

Text

Love Song

“Of course it does. I’m fucking cute.”

“You are. And I really want to kiss you right now.”

“But you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

Catch up!

I had messed up, I knew that much, or at least a part of me, the smart one, knew it. The other part was reeling in excitement, a smile plastered on my face as I kept replaying the kiss in my head.

God, that kiss.

I could remember every second of it, the sweetness of his lips, and the eagerness of his touch as he explored, with nails scraping lightly on my skin as his fingers dug on the curves of my body.

We had kissed until our lips were swollen and there was no more air in our lungs.

"Sorry," He had chuckled as he broke the kiss, pulling away just enough to look at me. His fingers were caressing down my arms, so softly that a million goosebumps rose at his wake, and I couldn't help but let out a shaky breath. His lips were as purple as mine, swollen with the kisses we had shared, and his cheeks were pink flushed, giving him a boyish look that only added to his already ridiculous charm.

"S'okay," I whispered, the warm fuzziness of the kiss still buzzing on my kiss. I could feel it on my chest, as my heart thumped in somewhat joy and somewhat guilt. It made my fingers prickle and my brain to jump from one memory to the other, still uncertain that it hadn't been just a fickle of its active imagination. Real or just my imagination, I was never going to have a kiss like that again.

But then again, it hadn't been just a kiss, it was a moment of complete abandon, one where I had let curiosity win the battle, and allowed myself to go far beyond from where I was supposed to go.

I wished I had kissed him a little more, with those butterfly kisses you see in the movies, with my hands cupping his face and his own fingers tangled in my hair. It would've been a lot nicer that way. But instead, I had untangled myself from him and went to sit right by his side, my fingers slipping from his as he allowed me to go.

It was easier to breathe that way, easier to think too, without the temptation of his cherry lips so close to me. I smiled shyly and my fingers knotted in my hair, bringing it behind my ear, in a clumsy attempt to give myself something to do.

"What I said earlier was true, y'know?" Harry finally said, breaking the air that was filled with tense electricity, the same one that was bubbling in my tummy and prickling on the tip of my fingers. His words made me look at him, deep into his eyes this time, and to notice the curiosity that was burning in them. "I can play by your rules."

"I thought what you said earlier was that we could be friends."

"That too. I'd really like that too. I just...I just got a feeling they're important to you." His smile was sincere and shy, his little dimples popping out on his face as he cast down his gaze. What was I supposed to say, anyway?

"So, no more kisses?"

"We can figure that out." His smirk grew and I realized just how stupidly easy it was for him to jump from a sweet boy to the dashing man he actually was. He rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and leaned just a little bit, enough so his breath fanned over my skin and I could smell his cologne. "We just need to behave," he whispered, a secret for both of us to keep and break.

"I behave, Styles," I whispered back. "Maybe you should be the one to stop smirking and...kissing me."

"I'll try my best. Can't promise anything, though."

"You're an idiot," I giggled for a second, before inhaling deeply as I licked my lips. For the first time that night, I failed to look him in the eyes. "It's not about sex, you'know?" It wasn't. I had no idea what it was about, though. I just needed those rules, that security, that sense of control, the idea of being in charge of something, of anything, really.

"You don't have to explain why they're important, Sof, I just know that they are. That's enough, innit?" He said, and the sincerity in his voice made me smile, and look at him as his fingertips brushed lightly over my hand, a simple touch meant to reassure me. "What?"

"Haven't met many guys like you, Harry," I said. "I still can't figure out if that's a good thing."

"It's a sad thing for sure."

"It is," I chuckled, even if there was not much to laugh about. His lips were sweet and soft when they met mine in a quick kiss, fingers cupping gingerly around my face as he pulled me closer. Just a second, not long enough to get lost in him, but able to make my breath hitch.

"That was the last one," he whispered as he broke the kiss.

"You promise?"

"I can't," he smirked in response. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Now? It's almost day!"

"I know, but I, uh, I need a minute alone. Or maybe two," he replied bashfully, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize what he meant. When I did, I looked away from him, so I could hide the flush on my cheeks.

"Go."

15 minutes had gone by and Harry still hadn't come out of the bathroom. Time was my enemy, really, cause it gave me the opportunity to think, to dwell on the awkwardness and regret the things that didn't happen, and the ones that weren't going to happen. The more I thought, the more nervous I got, dry mouth and thumping heart.

The shower finally stopped running and I could hear Harry as he rummaged through the bathroom, getting ready to come out. I closed my eyes and let myself slid into the covers, pretending to be asleep when I heard the door open. A sigh echoed in the air, a couple of steps and a door closing again. The lights were off and I was alone in bed.

Harry had left.

***

- INFO YOU NEED TO KNOW -

Name of the show: The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon

Host: Jimmy Fallon

Time slot: 11:35/10:35 C

Location: New York

Who will be featured with you?: Saoirse Ronan and John Legend.

Sketches: You’ll be participating on either Box of Lies (he’ll give you an object and you either lie your ass off or tell the truth about it, while he tries to guess); Dance Battle (there is a dance move generator); or Egg Russian Roulette (literally, you’ll be cracking eggs over your head).

You’re gonna be wearing an Elie Saab black dress with a plunging neckline (it’s already picked, Midge loved it). We would very much rather if you didn’t play the Egg Russian Roulette. We’ll see what we can do.

Jimmy Fallon laughs a lot. Try to ignore that.

If asked about Harry, divert. We’re still not talking about it.

We’ll leave to New York at 3. Be early.

I left a new script at your place this morning. I would like to touch basis with you on the plane, see if it’s anything that interests us. (I wonder where you were 🤔)

We’re having dinner with Harry and his friends tonight. We’ll be arriving at the hotel at around 9ish, so you won’t have a lot of time to get ready. I left a couple of outfit options as well.

BTW, we need to talk.

***

Maybe I could still make it. After all, it was only 12:15, which left me a little less than 3 hours to go home, take a shower, pack, and get across town to board the flight.

I wasn’t going to make it.

Diana was gonna kill me.

I was dashing through the room, picking and piling the few things that belonged to me onto the bed, and sighing in desperation when I realized they would simply not fit into the ridiculously tiny purse I had with me.

There was no way I was putting on the dress I had the night before, I wasn’t looking forward to being seen on it as I left Harry’s house, or to have my picture taken as I did what it would look like a “walk of shame”. Instead, I had decided to keep on Harry’s clothes, even if his sweatpants felt tight around my ass and the upper part of my thighs. My hair was dangling dangerously from a top knot, threatening to fall apart if I moved too fast and my eyes were puffy from the lack of sleep.

God, let there be no paparazzi outside his home. I wasn’t photo-ready anyway.

“You look nice.” The voice startled me, making my heart jump before I turned hastily to look at him. There he was, leaning onto the door frame, as he wore a clean black t-shirt and black jeans, and he leaned onto the door frame.

Harry smiled in satisfaction at my reaction and slowly walked into the room. It was only then that I noticed the pink suitcase he was carrying, one that looked exactly like the one I used for short trips.

“Is that mine?” I asked him.

“Yeah. Diana called, asked if you were ready for the trip. I told her you were. Then I woke up Sam, called your sister and asked her to pack your stuff, and Sam went to get it,” he explained. “Perfect plan, innit?”

“Y-you talked to Cat?”

“Yeah...I know you said “no families”, but uh…”

“Thank you,” I replied softly before he could explain himself any further. He had saved my ass, after all.

I realized I wanted to kiss him, lightly and sweetly. A tiny peck on his cheeks, or a quick kiss on his lips, anything to have him close once more, to feel his warmth, and get a chance to nuzzle my face in the crook of his neck. That was something I probably shouldn’t do.

Harry brought the suitcase over the bed and sat next to it. It was pink and soft, covered everywhere with the bright orange logo of the high-end brand. It had been the first stupid purchase I had ever made after I had made sure we had a roof over our heads, food on our table and Cat was enrolled in a private school, all expenses already paid for. My mom was slowly coming out of her haze and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again. So I had bought it, a way to celebrate myself and the fact that we had peeked out of the darkness.

“What are you wearing?” Harry drawled, as I started to look for something to change into. My cheeks blushed, pink and hot, and I looked at him with a shy smile of my own.

“I, uh, didn’t want anyone to see me wearing the same clothes. I didn’t want the rumors.”

“So you decided to wear my clothes instead? That’s a great plan.”

“I didn’t think about that,” I smiled. I finally found a V-neck white tee, and a pair of light blue jeans that would be comfortable enough to travel in. “Where did you sleep?”

I wondered if the question had come off accusingly, or if it was as casual and carefree as I had intended it to be. Either way, I realized I shouldn’t have asked it.

“A guest room...”

“Oh.”

“I figured you wanted space. Didn’t you?”

I nodded in response, which was easier than to say what I was really thinking. Like it would’ve been nice for him to stay, or that his bed was too damn big for just one person.

I didn’t know if he quite believed me, a curious glint burning in his eyes as he looked at me. If he didn’t, he didn’t say anything, but licked his lips and remained silent as he let himself fall back on the bed. It shifted under his weight, and I smiled at him when he looked up.

“We should get our story straight, y’know?” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we should know our story, especially if we’re meeting my friends tonight.”

“Just tell’em the truth, Harry.”

“I really don’t wanna do that,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to look at the ceiling. He clasped his hands over his tummy and pressed his lips together, deep in thought.

“Ok, how about this?” I put my clothes down and climbed on the bed to lie by his side. “You saw me at a party, thought I was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, told Jeff that if he didn’t get my number you would burn down his house, and here we are!”

“That sounds like something that could happen,” he chuckled, turning to one side to face me. My smile widened as I looked at him and felt the soft tickles of his fingers as they snuck under my shirt. It was soft and sweet, meant to have me close to him and nothing else.

“Of course it does. I’m fucking cute.”

“You are. And I really want to kiss you right now.”

“But you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

***

I had made it.

I was sitting on the leather chair, with my knees against my chest, as the plane got ready to take off. Diana, Jeff, Harry and I were the only passengers, and the two boys were talking as Diana sat in front of me.

“You know there’s a lot of actors out there that don’t travel with their agent everywhere?” I asked the blonde girl, who rose her eyebrow as she offered me a smirk.

“Consider yourself lucky, then,” she replied.

“I do.”

“Did you have time to check the script?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t.” I felt myself blush in embarrassment, as I looked at the way she rolled her eyes at me.

“Good thing I got a copy. See? Having your agent by your side is pretty useful,” she handed me a thick script, with a handwritten note on the first page, and the title of the movie written in bold caps.

“Dear Midge,

I think this would be perfect for Sofia, and Sofia would be perfect for us. Audrey wouldn’t have been Audrey without Holly.

To our new Holly.

Kisses,

B.”

“Breakfast at Tiffany's?” I chuckled in disbelief. “Are you crazy? This is one of the most beloved characters in cinema’ history.”

“I know.” She replied simply, a sweet smile replacing the sly one from before. “And they want you. This is a great remake. They’re gonna play Holly’s bisexuality and Paul’s homosexuality, which obviously wasn’t featured in the original one, she’s gonna be an actual scort, even smoke weed. You’re gonna be the Holly that Truman Capote intended her to be.”

“I’m gonna murder Holly,” I sighed. The script fell on the coffee table between our seats, and I got up from my chair to walk to the back of the plane, where they had coffee and snacks ready for us.

“Let’s do this.” I heard Diana say as she followed behind. “Read the script and we can talk about it later. The role is yours if you want it.”

It was time for me to roll my eyes at her.

I poured coffee for both of us and leaned into the counter as she stood by my side. For a second, it looked as if she had something to say, but didn’t know how; her lips rolled into her mouth and her eyes cast over the red coffeemaker. The silence upon us was suffocating, even for just a few seconds, and I cleared my throat to call her attention to me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just…” There were very few times where I had seen Diana struggle with words. Each time was scarier than the other. “I talked to your dad.”

“You what?” We were well out of earshot, but I still hissed my words under my breath. My heart felt as if it could stop at any second, racing fast and strong as Diana shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

“I, uh, he called, asked for you. I thought that, well, I’ve never heard you talk about him, so I decided to see him, find out what he wanted.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing...He, uh, asked about you, about Cat, wanted to know you were ok. I made sure he was as comfortable as he could, and that he was able to go back home.”

“You gave him money…”

It was actually a relief, to see her doubt for a second right before she nodded. He wasn’t after me, or Cat, or mom. I could live with that.

“Yeah, Yeah,” Diana continued. “He didn’t want to, though. But I, I wanted him to…”

“Get the hell out of L.A.? Thank you, me too.”

“Yes, but he had this crazy story, y’know? About how you left home. Pretty fucking away from the standard ‘She always wanted to be an actress and we let her move to a corrupt city when she was way too young, so she could shoot her shot’ one.”

“D…”

“I don’t wanna know, Sof. We just need to make sure this doesn’t come out.”

“Yeah.”

“And please, consider the movie. We need a second Oscar,” she said in a loud voice, while she took both of our cups in her hands and turned to go back to her seat. “Better yet, win that first Oscar!”

I stood where I was, leaning against the counter as I tried to imagine what my father had told Diana. It could’ve been anything, even the truth. I was unable to move or even breathe, so I just stared at the group of people that were sitting in front of me. Harry was laughing loudly at something Diana had just said, while she sat primly on her chair. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and he leaned forward as his arms hugged around his own tummy. They seemed happy, far from the darkness that was pressing down my chest and making everything seem distant and bleak.

“Excuse me, miss? I need you to sit down, we’re about to hit some turbulence,” the petite flight attendant told me. She had popped out of nowhere, and I stared at her for a second, wondering how much, if any, of our conversation she had heard. She smiled shyly at me, but still, her firm hand guided me to my seat, repeating her order to everyone so they would sit.

Harry sat next to me and looked at me in surprise as I took his hand in mine. “Are you scared of flying?” He asked and I replied with a swift nod of my head. I wasn’t, I just needed something to anchor me to reality. Closing my eyes, I leaned back onto the chair and tried to focus on the loud thumps of my heart, counting them as Harry began to rub soothing circles on my skin.

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

“We’ll fall together.”

“Literally.”

***

“So, let’s talk about sleeping arrangements,” Diana told me as the plane was landing.

I looked up from the script, which I had been reading during the whole flight, and quirked my eyebrow at her sheepish smile. Harry, whose head was resting on my shoulder as he slept, stirred just a bit in protest.

“What?”

“Well, Harry has an apartment in New York. We’re staying at a hotel in Tribeca and Harry would come and go as he pleases. Unless you want to stay in his apartment, he offered.”

“I’ll stay at the hotel.”

“That’s a good idea.” Diana smiled proudly.

Between landing and getting our things in the car, we arrived at the hotel at 9ish, just as Diana had predicted. What she hadn’t told me was the fact that there were going to be paparazzi waiting for me in front of the hotel. I glared at her as she offered me an apologetic smile, and without saying anything, she jumped out of the car, with Jeff following suit, to get our stuff.

Harry came out first and went to help Jeff carry our suitcases into the hotel. When it was my turn to come out, I just dashed to the entrance, getting into the hotel without answering or even acknowledging the insidious questions thrown my way. I wasn’t in the mood for them, or anyone really.

Diana and Jeff stayed at the lobby, while Harry and I got to the top floor of the hotel without saying a word. He stood right next to me during the whole ride, holding my suitcase on one and an overnight bag over his shoulder. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were puffy, revealing just how little sleep we had had the night before He looked tired, and somehow still managed to be the most handsome boy I had seen that night, week, year.

“You ok?” He asked as the elevator opened its doors and we were met with a pristine corridor. The hotel, that mostly looked like a remodeled speakeasy bar, was spotless and modern, with high ceilings and trendy decoration.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Wanna skip tonight’s dinner?” He offered, waiting for me to open the door to the room.

“I’m sorry, yes, I’m not in the mood for people. Do you mind?”

“No, please, get some rest” he reassured me.

I hurried to turn the lights on as soon as we got in, revealing a luxurious room with black and white furniture and a huge window that looked over the Hudson River. There was a huge TV, and a couple of warm blue blankets over one of the couches, and a bar table with whiskey and champagne on it. A giant sliding door lead to a private rooftop, with chairs to take the sun.

“Harry…Could you stay with me? I don’t wanna be alone.”

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